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On Thursday last week, I woke up with the goal in mind of updating and writing my resumé– the shock of being laid off still quite fresh and the need to just keep moving pressing upon me. I went to my favorite coffee shop with my laptop, ordered the biggest cappuccino I could, and got to working. Writing your resumé is somewhat of a boring and mundane task, if not an exercise in ego inflation.
Read moreI remember when I first started writing this blog. It all started with inspiration from the Oxford English Dictionary at a time in my life when I was trying to get back to my English Major roots…and the creative writer that I was once was in college. I was a new mom with an infant desperate to find a way to fill the gap that staying home and not working had created.
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Clouds are usually around, in the sky, floating past and shaped like things that exist in our lives that are made of matter, not water vapor. They block our view on airplanes, turn black to signal bad weather, and often, inspire us.
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Graham
This summer has been the year of the big boy summer camp for my seven year old son. Up until this summer, it was all popsicle sticks, Elmer’s Glue, sprinkler running fun. His past summers were nothing but a haze of happiness.
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Several weeks ago after a tough few days at work, I started reading The Art of Happiness at Work, by the Dalai Lama. I purchased this book probably close to a decade ago at the Ruben Museum of Art in Manhattan – a regular visit of mine while we lived in Brooklyn. I never read it. It traveled with us from Brooklyn, to Maplewood, and now here, to Cranston – never having been read.
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Oh the sleep I used to get. There were some Sundays when I wouldn’t get out of bed until 1 pm. I would just lay in those crisp sheets letting their cool wrinkles enfold my rapturous laziness until my body and mind felt it was just the right time to rise, shower and go out for a mimosa filled brunch on Smith Street. And I had the nerve to complain during those days – of how hard I was working and how stressed I was – all while getting 20 hours of sleep every weekend. I was a seasoned, professional sleeper.
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record player
I’ve been turning over a blog post in my brain for several weeks now and am finally writing these few words down after such a long hiatus from this site. I toyed with the word “analog” after using my old typewriter a few weeks ago for an unrelated project…and then the other morning I was rather peeved on the drive into work so I wanted to write a post about wanting to be Kanye West.
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scaramouch
Today I opened up the old OED the way I used to when I started this silly blog and flipped around looking for a word. I landed on scaramouch and am pretty happy with it. I have heard, like everyone else in the world, the song Bohemian Rhapsody a few hundred times throughout my life, I am sure. I always glazed over this word and didn’t think much about it. I wasn’t even really sure it was a word until I found it today.
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It has been a long while since I have written here. A year to be exact. It’s time to return to this practice of writing again.
So calumniate. A fitting word for the current politics of our time. It would be easy to write something about Donald Trump or Ted Cruz, but how boring would that be? You can just go watch the media outlet of your choice for an update on that.
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cooper_kiss
’ve had this post in my for some time and since Valentine’s Day is around the corner, it makes sense to post it now…I think. Way back when I was a pre -teen, I (like every other girl I knew) had a massive crush on Kevin Arnold and obsessively watched the Wonder Years. I wasn’t technically allowed to watch it, adult themes and all, but I snuck it in on the little black and white TV I had won selling chocolate bunnies during the Easter fundraiser at St. Anastasia’s Elementary.
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