Warning: This post is a rant. If you are not in the mood, or you’re super sensitive, or maybe even if you bring your dog into Starbucks. You should close out and come back later. Take Our Daughters…and Sons to Work Day. Stop. This has really got to stop. The day was originally Take Our Daughters to…
I had to buy a new pair of spin shoes. I mean I guess I didn’t have to, but the ones I have are almost a year old and they’re not as pretty as some of the other shoes in class. They’re losing their structure, they’re a little sloppy. For those of you that don’t…
I never feel more like a rat in a maze than I do in a Metro or subway system. Don’t get me wrong, there’s an energy. So many different kinds of people moving en mass, all with different agendas, it’s electric, but the the underground shuffle is a soulless place. There’s very little eye contact,…
Hemingway called Paris a “movable feast.” I’m not really a Hemingway fan, but when he says, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris … then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast,” I have to agree. There is something about…
I feel like a crockpot tonight. Like I’m stewing in my juices and it’s only a matter of time before I cross over into something rich and nourishing, something I can finally understand and enjoy. I have spent most of my first fourty-two years searching for who I am, what makes me special, and what…
“Fuck” sounds like Fük or “Foook” if said by a sixteen year old French exchange student. Last year I exclaimed, “never again,” but I’ve come to realize that no one ever really listens to me, so here we are, one more time committed to scholastic international relations. We have a French exchange student staying with us…
Live like you’re dying, but never take yourself too seriously. Well, which is it? I’ve read myself onto a long balance beam. I need to focus, be serious enough to watch my step and carefully plan my trip from one stop to another. I need to believe in myself, give myself credit, stop caring what…
Apparently short hair is not sexy. Victoria’s Secret, who I guess are the protectors of sexy these days, aired an ad in which one of the models had chin length hair. She was obviously a beautiful woman, half dressed and by all other standards would be deemed sexy, but her hair was to her chin.…
I went to Ray’s Pizza last night for dinner. I’m pretty sure everyone has a Ray’s Pizza by now, but I really like mine. It has red vinyl booths, odd “where did you even buy this” artwork, some sporting event is always on the television, and the menu is lit from behind on a 1985…