I’ve talked occasionally about the various phases of my life, and the person I saw myself as during them. The curious little girl who became the anxious adolescent, who became the rebellious teenager who became the bouncy extrovert in college, who became a party girl in grad school. But the person I was the longest
Since I started this project of writing and meditation every day in August, this is the first day that was a real struggle. I slept through my alarm, only getting up when Alexa reminded me to feed Callie. Then, after I made lunch and grabbed a monster, I completely forgot to do anything other than
Let’s start with the confession. I am a person who owns six E-Readers. I can see you gaping at me. Why, for the love of kittens everywhere, would a person need that many? Well, friends…it started very innocently. I had two kindles. One was a new ColorSoft, and one was my beloved but so-out-of-date Oasis
During the summer, every fourth Friday, we host our friends for cheeseburgers and games. The deal is that FL makes the burgers, I make dessert and everyone else brings…something. We usually end up with a mix of things, from side dishes and desserts to whole pizzas to butter mints. It’s delightful. Yesterday, everyone brought cake.
So, I started meditating in 2018, and I took a class at the TM Center in DC in 2019. I wrote this story in December 2020. I had been meditating like this—as described in the story—for a while, and I really liked how it focused me on what I needed in the moment. I would
I think it would make me interesting in a way that I am not currently. I mean, picture this: I’m at a dinner party and my available conversation topics are smutty hockey books, the breadth of my e-reader collection and my favorite colored pencils. Perhaps the meditative nature of diamond painting, or, if I’m really
I finished a book last night, around 2 am, and my first thought was “I’m still awake…I should get a head start on tomorrow’s blog post.” Friends, that way lies madness. I am someone who is quite prone to hyperfocus, and doing something I love so hard that, after a fashion, I don’t love it
Remember read-a-thon? You would keep people to pledge a certain amount of money per book (I think it was per book as per page would be onerous) and you would keep a list of what you read, and at the end of the month, collect whatever money you raised for whatever cause you were shilling
When I was a kid, I was in a gifted program that was run out of a local historical society. For one day per week, I and the other future disappointments would convene at this museum and do things. Some of it was crap, some of it was useful, and some of it I probably
So, after a year of waking up every day and not having much to say, this morning, my brain chose violence. I’m still not sure WHAT I have to say, but, honestly, I think I am just tired of this page having a date on it that’s so far in the past. But that’s how
justlori