I’ve always felt insecure about being a graduate of NYC’s legendary Stuyvesant High School. Never went to reunions because I was such a pimple-y slacker. Well, I finally put the bad self-image to rest by visiting Stuy and exorcising some ghosts.
If you’ve got decisions to make, your own words might offer the best advice. Your words are a source of power, insight and confidence for your badass self. My free, nine-page writing workbook can help you see yourself in a fresh, creative light. Even reading through the pages might spark new ideas. For sure, you can avoid the mistakes that wrecked me — until writing saved my life.
Sorry, I’ve been MIA, re-thinking my blog. And I’ve decided on a makeover for both me and my website. New attitude, new look, new software. This will take some work but I’m going to move my blog from iWeb to WordPress.
Now that my mom is dead, I’m an orphan. It feels weird, sad, exhilarating — free. Suddenly, I’m starting live over, redefining my sense of womanhood, ethnicity and culture.
This post is all about how my mom died. It was profoundly moving, sad, peaceful, loving. Death has it’s own magic. What a healing experience.
My mom has been moved to hospice and the experience is emotionally wrenching. But we’re getting through it with the help of music therapy and my MacBook laptop.
I’m looking for something, mucking around in my feelings and the things I need to do — and be. Thank goodness for the people and cats who make up my community and keep me sane.