I was hot gluing my black choker back together last week when it hit me: I really should wear this more often.
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I was at a pub last week in Nashville, Tennessee talking to a bartender about which whisky concoction to order. He went on about how ‘sometimes whisky just isn’t enough.’
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I am at a crossroads in my life again. How many of these am I supposed to have? I am coming off an incredibly disappointing chapter that seems to negate the happy seasons before it. People can be such a let down.
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I lie to myself all the time, usually about a pair of jeans. I swear they will fit if I dance or shimmy in some kind of way and am convinced they will look good when the impossible finally happens (even if it means I can’t eat or sit down).
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My sweet grandmother and namesake died six years ago this week. I was there by her side when she took her final breath but I must say, it was one of the sweetest and most peaceful moments of my life and arguably of hers too.
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Bad traffic can ruin your day but it’s even more frustrating when the bad behavior is legal. When driving home from work I often find myself with the choice to laugh or cry.
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I’ve done it. I’ve managed to pack up my life into nine boxes, say goodbye to my family and friends, move to Doha and complete a week of work all in a week and a half! God is certainly good, isn’t he?
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I have been on the most elaborate, whimsical, planned and off-the-cuff dates this year. I’m talking Taylor Swift album six worthy dates.
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As I move through the years I tend to forget what tripped me up or inspired me in the stage before the one I find myself in now.
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