Customer service is a dying art. And I’m in mourning.
We sent our son to sing at Carnegie Hall, then followed him there.
I’ve been a mom for sixteen years, but that doesn’t make me old.
At least for an hour a week, there is peace.
Time is passing slowly, but gaining momentum. Shall we attempt to stay present?
Can we control how we will be remembered?
Will we allow for the crazy class to take over and dominate?
What’s the big deal? It’s just gray hair. Why can’t we all just agree that it’s really okay?
Moving kicked my butt. I’m finally starting to come back into the world.
Without social media I wouldn’t know where/how many people live. I wouldn’t envy their picture perfect vacations and creative home