When I was an undergrad my email was infiltrated by a barrage of inane chain letters. READ THIS, they said…this REALLY happened to my friend, they proclaimed, send this to 15 people or you’ll never find true love, they warned.  I hated all that crap.  I just deleted it.  I didn’t care that for every person I forwarded it to $0.10 would be donated by Microsoft to help little Jessica with cancer.  I never read the sob stories of loves or limbs lost, only to be found again by the grace of God.  Read the rest of this entry »

When it came time for me to learn how to drive, my mother taught me. This accounts for why I play little games with myself while driving.  “I wonder if I can coast to a stop at this red light and when I finally come to a stop, not be able to feel it?�  Or sometimes I see how far I can go without pushing the gas pedal.  My entire mission while learning to drive was to not freak my Mom out. My mother gets overly excited in the car.  If she thinks you’re going to fast she starts pushing her imaginary brake pedal for you.  In my old car I had fingernail imprints on the passenger handle where she felt her life might be spared from my crazy driving if she just held on a little tighter. 

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I don’t have any plants, any pets, any kids. As soon as you meet me you realize I’m not a nurturer. I kill all types of vegetation, I don’t even have silk plants. Things that need constant attention like a dog or cat are an annoyance to me. It goes without saying that I don’t do feces. I’d be the kind of mom who would leave the store saying, “I know I’m forgetting something. I’ve got my purse, my keys, my sunglasses, but I thought I came in with something else….� Kids don’t match the décor in my house.

Slightly humorous, but completely true which makes it a little sad.

Not sad like starving Romanian baby sad, but sad like when you meet someone who has never tasted something, like say the joy that is Coca Cola. Read the rest of this entry »