I remember the first boy who liked me. Larry. And I know he liked me because he pulled my hair and chased me around the playground during kindergarten recess. And until his efforts escalated and my daddy had to come to school and have a “talk” with him – I suppose I liked him too. […]
TO ALL THE BOYS I LOVED BEFORE Read More »
NO, I am not headed to a funeral. YES, I do wear black – a lot – thanks for noticing. I am a very happy, cheerful, sunny person. YES, I do have other colors in my closet. White and cream and grey… oh, and one pink sweater – told ya. On the east side of
VERY NICE BUT DOES IT COME IN BLACK Read More »
Beyond the geographically desirable (and seemingly attainable) boys I wrote about in my diary – there were others I yearned for. And by others… I mean the fellas written up in Tiger Beat magazine. While glimpsing them on television, oogling their photos taped to my bedroom walls and replaying their albums, I dreamt about meeting
THEY LOVED ME..but only in my mind Read More »
It has been pointed out that I am in constant ‘hum’. At times I am cognizant of said hum, but mostly it makes its appearance unawares. And it seems, per dear family members, annoyingly so. Really?? My melodious vibrations are not a delight for your ears? How rude. There is almost always a melody in
HUMMING A HAPPY TUNE Read More »
I had cancer. I was squished, prodded, zapped, poked, sliced and diced. My first diagnosis was met with varying degrees of shock, fear, pragmatic acceptance and the “oh no you di’int” just tell me that! My left breast had betrayed me and I was not having it.Then my thyroid hoodwinked me. Finally, that left boob
These are the questions often asked of me… ARE YOU STILL DANCING? “Yes, on Monday nights from 6:00-7:30 and in my kitchen the remainder of the week”. DO YOU MISS PERFORMING? “Nope, let the young ones have their turn”. YOU REALLY DON’T MISS PERFORMING? “Hmmmmmmm…let me think…nope”. NOT ONE THING? “NO. Oh wait…I do miss
WHERE THE MAGIC HAPPENS Read More »
After my extraordinary mom passed away I had to deal with her ‘filled to the brim’ condo; along with the aching loss. For four years her cheerful residence was buried in medication and all the accoutrements that go along with the loss of independence and demise of well-being. And despite my mom’s valiant efforts to
I was thisclose to being a statistic – a child of the streets – a runaway…wannabee. As an only child, living in the happiest of households, I felt the need to stir up some drama. Soooooooo after packing up my yellow rain slicker, Mary Janes, and ‘Bunky’ (the monkey) I announced my intentions. I was
I’M LEAVIN’ AND I AIN’T NEVER COMIN’ BACK Read More »
Dear Diary… my little white diary with the latch that could lock away thoughts for my eyes only… I’ve deceived you. I was a teller of untruths – a spinner of yarns… fabricator, falsifier, PHONY BALONEY! Before I make known my fraudulent handiwork here is proof that a number of my entries were ‘the whole
LIAR, LIAR PANTS ON FIRE Read More »
Quit telling me how I should age. Yes, my body is aging and my mind wandering and wondering. I feel as though my soul is searching; searching for that level of acceptance, or at least acknowledgement, of the aging process written oh so favorably in magazine articles. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? I so want to
IT’S NATURALLY MY HAIR COLOR…I PAID FOR IT! Read More »
