Guess what? I’m divorced.
Ok, fine. I am dating myself. I mean, I am outdated. I mean, ugh, never mind.
On May 22, 1998, I graduated from high school. If you do the math, that would make me … upset with you. Don’t do that. Continue reading
So, there’s this guy … his name is Daren. Some may call him Forrest, but that’s only part of his story.
When I first heard about Daren Wendell, I’m pretty sure he was in the middle of a run somewhere. Sure, lots of folks run. I even run sometimes. I know … hard to believe. But, Daren runs for a purpose; to bring awareness to the world’s water crisis. And for every $40 he is able to capture as a result of his crazy pursuits, he ensures clean drinking water for another human being. For life. For.life. Continue reading
You know what’s funner than fun? Taking a two+ hour drive with a couple of girlfriends into the city for an overnight adventure. With no real agenda.
It may be mid-March, but I’ve been thinking about this post for a while now and doggoneit, I’ve got to just get it out there. It’s been burning a hole in my pocket. Or something like that. Continue reading
I was on a conference call earlier today and we were battling the typical audio interference … trains blaring, excavators tearing down buildings and, of course, sirens sounding. Wait. Sirens?
I missed #tbt, or Throwback Thursday for those of you who aren’t hip to the kids’ lingo these days, by about twenty minutes and I don’t think you can be late for hash-tagged events. Right? I mean, then it would be all #laterblog and no one even knows what that means. Right?! Besides, at the time, I wasn’t alert enough to enjoy a walk down memory lane. But now? Because it’s Friday. Because I can’t read another.stinking.email this week. And because I cried in the card aisle at Target earlier, I walk. Continue reading
Because it’s been a month. Yes, a month. I know … I keep hearing, ‘why aren’t you blogging?’ ‘when are you coming baaaaaccccck?’, ‘i miss reading the amazing insights you have to share!’ Wait, I think I keep hearing things. I’m hearing things. Crap. Continue reading
I was pretty worried (and mildly relieved) that last Christmas would also mean our last visit from Santa but oh HO HO HO was I wrong. It actually seemed like his fervor for the gentleman in the old red suit grew this year. Which was fun.
Not long after the tree went up Thanksgiving weekend, Connor wrote a letter to Santa. Pinterest to the rescue for an adorable template that I drew up on a piece of his sketch paper for him to complete. I forgot to note this would be in addition to the list he’d already given me … which was completely different. Of course. Continue reading