Bosom Buddies

I read this post on BlogHer and it really resonated with me. With no offense intended towards any of my friends, I’ve often felt this way.

Don’t get me wrong, I know some amazing women whom I am honored to call friends — some of them dearly close to me, a few whom I’ve known for most of my life — but I have always longed to find a Diana to my Anne. Someone close enough to be a sister. 

Strata

There’s a room in my house that used to be my sanctuary. A quiet place with a comfy couch for losing myself in a book, with room for my craft supplies, a computer, my shelves of fabrics and sewing ephemera. Most importantly, it was the one place in our house I had no obligation of sharing with anyone else — not my kids, not my husband. The only other time it was used was as a guest room when family visited from out of town. Looking into this room was like glimpsing inside my head.

You Can’t Go Back (Or: How I Made A Total Ass Of Myself)

Last Thursday night I was gifted an awesome opportunity to catch a concert I’d given up seeing, hanging out with a wild bunch of Ladies I admire and revisiting our youth. In hindsight, there are somethings best left experienced in one’s teens and early twenties — a 35yr old body can’t take the abuse dished out by a 16yr old mindset.