From relationships taking a turn for the worst; to crappy jobs and scenarios; to other internal interpersonal conflicts, I’ve spent a lot of time ignoring my instincts. What have I learned from this? Two things: 1) trust your gut; 2) when the Universe calls, listen. The times I ignored my gut-feelings about something always ended…
We gathered at the top of the hill in the building called the WIG, taking off our shoes on the porch and entering barefoot. The pine boards were cool beneath the arches of my feet. Last year at this time, we had joined Otha Day for a drumming circle. There was sisterhood woven together with…
If someone had said to me that attending a facilitated session called Dance, Draw, Write would overwhelm me with emotion, or that I would rediscover a part of my childhood spirit, I would be extremely skeptical. There I was Sunday morning, the last day of women’s weekend, saddened by the knowledge that in a few…
I was supposed to get to camp much earlier Friday morning than I had arrived. As that morning went, nothing was going according to plan. By the time I did check-in, I had already missed the morning sessions, but I had arrived in time for lunch where my weekend would be kicking off with a…
This is the first post in a series of reflections about attending YWCA VT Women’s Weekend. 2017 was a terrible year. Liken to a country music song or Lifetime movie except no one ended up in jail. Just about everything else happened. I had a miscarriage. My marriage fell apart and resulted in divorce. As…
I saw a woman picking her leggings out of her crotch and I thought that’s kind of disgusting and then I noted how she probably shouldn’t be wearing leggings to begin with. At least not with such a short shirt. This breaks one of my legging rules. Now before, you jump all over me, I…
I am about to rant about thongs. I’m sure you guessed that. This post is inspired by a recent time getting ready to go and sit near the pool. I had a pair of bottoms to go with my top that I would say probably technically fit, but that I would not feel comfortable wearing…
Guess what I discovered inside my zipper? And no it’s not my lady bits. I discovered those decades ago. Inside my zipper I discovered a patch. Not that kind of patch either. (You’re dirty-minded, aren’t you?) It’s a patch of fabric running vertical that says “lucky you.” Now, I bought these jeans over a year…
Note: This post stemmed from a prompt flashback to misery. I’m writing a book and it’s a shitty long look backwards. I mean the writing isn’t shitty, but the looking back certainly is. Memoir seems to be a deliberately-written exploration of a series of miserable flashbacks. Or flashbacks on misery. Flashbacks with misery? Flashback…
I’ve read this in a book. You’ll laugh. It’s the story of a damsel. You’ll know exactly this story as soon as I start simply by the way this story begins. Once upon a time … … in a land [insert some adjective that indicates far, followed by one that suggests foreign and a third…