I was 13 when I had my first drink. At least one that led to a total blackout. Maybe I’d had a taste before when I was younger but not like this. This time I was dead weight in my fathers arms on a gorgeous September evening. Now being a parent myself I can only … read on….
I get it. Personally, I hate writing capital letters. It stops my flow when the words are actually and finally breaking through. Sometimes I find myself trying to write as fast as I can so I’m not late for work. But, you can’t rush moments. Feeling. Breathing. Life. I know we’re all pressed for time. But … read on….
I was not an athletic child. Let me rephrase that. I did walk a lot, performed the classic Jane Fonda thigh lifts and butt squeezes and even some old school sit ups on occasion, but I was not a sports player. Not by a long shot. The less “on a team” I could be, the better. … read on….