{ a page from my diary, dated October 26, 2002 } I turned 50 today. Guess that means I’ve officially lived over half my life. My vacation is half over. Michele* surprised me and flew in from Maine. We went shopping all day at the outlet mall. It was a
Living in NYC has always been on my before-I-die list. I’m not sure you’ll call a month ‘living’ in NYC, but hey, I’ll take it! The first time I landed in that magical city, I felt an energy I had never experienced before. Years passed. The job led me to
I remember the day, oh, 30 something years ago, I was making a sales call to Harris-Lanier. My hope-to-be-client asked if my company had a fax machine yet. “Nope!” I proudly answered. “I believe in face-to-face customer service.” At the time, Coca-Cola was a client and I bragged that I
A dear friend assembled a group of us for dinner the other night. Most of the gals in this group are going through the same stages I am – the empty nest, post menopausal, midlife crisis, omg-now-what? syndrome. Most are traveling through it with much more grace than I am,
I am so excited I can hardly breathe. It’s Friday night, April the 8th and I just got back from doing my first trial walk. As many of you know, I plan to go back to school this summer at Parsons in NY and walk every square mile of Manhattan
A chain letter came across my email a few years back, asking us to name the 25 things that most identified us. Here are mine: 1. Although I dearly love Atlanta, I’d love to live in NYC at least for a year. 2. My favorite art form is graffiti. When
I have to laugh. When I tell friends about my trip this is, by far, the comment I hear most often: “A whole month B Y Y O U R S E L F in that apartment!” Imagine: One whole month. Thirty days. Thirty nights. No husband. No children. No
When a group of us gals got together for one of Tavey’s Enneagram classes, “Set Your Intentions” we were instructed to grab a magazine, scan its pages, and pull out things that interested us. We were given a small piece of poster board on which to assemble our finds. Here’s
As I mentioned in one of my previous writings, I took my son to New York just three months after 9/11. I remember asking friends if I should expose a ten-year-old to such a fresh visual reminder of horror. You see, my son is an avid historian. In my heart
When I started in my field 35 yeas ago, the tools of my trade consisted of a jar of rubber cement and an exacto knife. My desk tilted upwards and I used a t-square to line up the board on my desk. I used a proportion wheel, a loupe and
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