What a beautiful thing, to be glued to the tv, not in terror and tears, but in awe and aspiration. It’s a new day, and the list is long, but we have a new president and a new attitude and a new direction. There’s an energy in the air that’s almost palpable. Can you feel it? Get to work. Please. The for-sale signs line our neighborhood, friends are being re-deployed
I’ve been beating my brain to remember the names of colleagues and friends I worked so closely with nearly a decade ago. How I can remember where we kept the secret stash of copier toner to this day, but not my VP of marketing? Weird, that selective memory. We knew each other so well back then, how could I possibly forget? Day in and day out . . . nights too, and
New Year’s Resolution 2009: don’t be a Nana. I don’t want to be the woman who can’t work a tape deck. Or use an ATM. Or a VCR. Or drive a stick. Perhaps I was a bit behind the times waiting until the 90s to get a microwave, but that’s all changing. Today. The technological revolution has left me a bumbling grandma and I’m not 50 . . . yet. But I
Every flippin’ year I try not to be happy, not to kick up my heels with glee when the holidays are over, but I am. I’m frickin’ ecstatic and woman enough to admit it. Yes, I’m excited to bring Christmas out of hibernation after Thanksgiving, but with this comes the ominous knowledge of what’s to come. The endless shopping, cooking, cleaning, wrapping, working, reeling, talking, hiding, eating, preparing, driving, returning,
I’ve got my list and I’m checking it twice. Family, kids, neighbors, cousins . . . and, uh oh, clients. I’m a freelance copywriter and want to remain in good standing with my clients so I, like many other vendor/client relationships, plan on bribing them with extravagant gifts for the holidays. You see, lobbying isn’t restricted to Washington. We all do it, every holiday season. I know how it works. As
We did it! Twenty-six guests: kids, cousins, sisters, aunts, a boyfriend, uncles, buffers, the Reverend-Doctor, a couple in-laws, friends, grandparents, and even an estranged Great-Aunt Thanksgiving crasher and still, Thanksgiving was great! Kids connected, turkey was eaten, pies were baked, cards were played, memories mocked, photos taken, and it was all so blissfully calm and bright. I don’t mean to brag, but . . . No one threw dishes. No
There’s one less middle school student in my town today. One less Boy Scout, one less baseball player. One less swimmer. One less brother. One less son. A boy died and our hearts broke. Time stood still while moms, dads, neighbors, teachers, coaches, and friends tried to negotiate the traffic jam of gossip and rumors and finally, sadly, truth. Sometimes you can do everything right and still nothing is okay.