It’s been four years since I sat in a conference room with two other adults crying my eyes out. It was the first time I heard the terms “severance,” “COBRA,” and “position elimination.” Well, maybe not Cobra, but that sure did not turn out to be what I was familiar with. What I did know was that it meant the job I moved to another state for and spent three years doing didn’t exist anymore. My job had just broken up with me.
Since it was recently announced that my alma mater, Sweet Briar College, intends to close it’s doors at the end of the current semester, alumnae have rallied to save the school, many of them sharing their personal stories of why they chose to attend Sweet Briar and what Sweet Briar did for them. There are so many inspiring stories from former and current students, parents, professors and friends of the college. The outpouring of love and support has been overwhelming and in many ways apparently long overdue.
A beautiful expression of love for a dear friend, Sweet Briar College. We are all Sisters, and we do not all look alike, nor do we think alike. That’s one of her charms and challenges. My eyes were opened as much as anyone else’s while there and I can’t think of a safer place to learn who you really are. They can’t take that from us. We will not give away an opportunity for women or their futures and we sure as hell will not go down without a fight.
I have clearly been holding quite a lot in for quite a long time. I realized this when I caught myself bawling uncontrollably while listening to “Let It Go” from a little movie called “Frozen.”
What the hell is wrong with me?!?
The morning of my birthday I woke up to swirling clouds of tiny white flakes against the soft yellow glow of the street light across our street. It was beautiful. I now know where the cliched image of blanketed with new fallen snow comes from and it is as peaceful as it sounds. I also now know what it looks like snow up. That’s right folks, Mama got a blizzard for her birthday. Continue reading
It’s funny how a name can shape your perspective of the world around you. As I experiment with sharing my life, I have already shifted my perspective of what stories to tell and how to tell them. I’ve survived the anxiety of sending my words into the great beyond hoping for a sign that someone found them entertaining or helpful. (That is truly terrifying, by the way.) I have decided instead to stay true to my original intention of easing my own mind through sharing what I need to share, rather than crafting things that should be shared. In other words, write what you know. Be who you are.
While we were away for our fabulous all daycare expenses paid family vacation, construction on our neighbor’s house began. They are adding a second floor, finishing their basement and doing a complete gut and renovation of the main floor. The contractors are very nice, work from about 8 AM to 4 PM and their job site is extremely organized. Every time I look out our window, I see progress. This, of course, causes me extremely undue stress. It is absolutely maddening. Continue reading
High school me would have been horrified at the thought of being seen without a full face of makeup by anyone other than my parents to be a harbinger of the apocalypse. My mother always had “her face on” and I it never occurred to me not to be done up at every moment. Reading all those magazines did not help. How could all those issues of Seventeen be wrong? Why wouldn’t I want to know what was the BEST mascara of all time while only in 9th grade?
Let’s just get this out of the way right off the bat: I am very particular and slightly obsessive. I like things my way and I get twitchy when I have to ask for help. I am also lazy as all hell and last time I checked, I have only two hands and extremely limited telekinesis. Continue reading
Suburban Jackpot 