Is it just me or does it seem like once you hit a certain age, every medical commercial on television is somehow personally aimed at you?
You always know this day will come. As my 12-year-old nephew reminded me recently, you sort of sign up for it from the get-go. Wise words, kid. Wise words.
Patience is the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble or suffering without getting angry or upset.
At this concept, I fail brilliantly.
I had always been a reader. Thing is I can't remember when I stopped.
First thing: It's been entirely too long since I've posted a blog.
First, let's start off the year on a "positive" note.
In prior years, this would be my down time.
So...where do I begin?
On this Labor Day, I thought I'd actually do a little "work".
What I learned at Lollapalooza 2014:
We old. The end.
On July 1st, I'm off to camp for the second year in a row.
Not an actual pitch-a-tent, mosquito-filled camp--more like "virtual" camp.
While I'm too young to remember the show Dragnet, "the story you are about to hear is true, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent" can still be found as a common disclaimer when real life infringes into a story being told.
In celebration of Father's Day, I thought I'd re-run this story about my dad. I originally performed it at Mary's Attic with the group "You're Being Ridiculous" and while I may have embellished on some of the details, a lot of what you'll read is true. So, here's to my dad on Father's Day.
Over the weekend, in a neighborhood that was once the bookmaking hub of Chicago, the Printer's Row Lit Fest kicked off. Booksellers, publishers, authors, and literary/cultural organizations gathered under tents while panels and speakers presented within the confines of the Harold Washington Library and Jones Prep College on Saturday and Sunday.
I made an offhand comment earlier this evening about about hitting 1,000 Twitter followers and how I should give something away for reaching that milestone.
Along with my anniversary with the hubby, yesterday was significant for another reason.
Two years ago April 26th, I quit drinking.
17 years ago today Ryan Duff "showed up" in my life. I was at a concert (I know, shocking) at the Abbey Pub.
Fourteen years ago today, I lost my mom to breast cancer. I've been working on a memoir about her and wanted to pay tribute by sharing some excepts from the book.
Let me start with the end.
I've jinxed myself (as usual).
Last blog, I wrote about having trouble getting back into the writing swing of things. Despite the class I am taking, I was finding it hard to sit down and work.