divergent selves

Last evening, I had the opportunity to talk to a graduate-level writing class. The class was actually one I took as a graduate writing student, and I was excited to return to the class and see what it was like a decade later. So many memories overtook me when I entered the English Department. Even though the department has been remodeled, it’s still musty and un-airconditioned. Looking at row after row of books – poetry! nonfiction! literary novels! Shakespeare! John Dunne! Alice Walker! – and the names of professors and their office hours, I felt at best profoundly nostalgic. In the few short minutes I spent in the English Department’s lobby, I ran into three people I knew. I’d come from work, so I was still wearing my extra tall black heels and a dress that sort of looks like a water color painting, and I felt foolish. “I’m invited to be here!” I wanted to yell. “It turns out, I have expertise!”

Between undergraduate and graduate school, I spent eight years of my life pursuing degress in English Literature and writing. I know my way around English departments housed in old buildings, sunlight streaming through rarely-washed windows – I am aquainted with the late-afternoon malaise that washes over before evening classes begin, which have their own special energy. I know who coined the phrase “a willing suspension of disbelief” and I understand allusions to the Bible, Shakespeare and Mythology and lines of poetry like “one man loved the Pilgrim soul in you” and “hope is a thing with feathers” float through my mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. I have listened to more conversations about Derrida and Foucault than I care to count. And when I think about how those years built upon one another, naturally, classes and papers and writing projects building upon one another, well, it comes as a rather crushing blow to remember that I am now in health care public relations, expected to have a Pavlovian response to my blackberry and keep my writing simple and straight forward.

My talk in front of the class went well – so well the students asked nearly an hour’s worth of questions afterward. It felt so terribly satisfying to take time out of my day to first of all, prepare for the class, second of all, rearrange the information for better delivery, third of all, deliver my talk to an engaged audience and fourth of all answer questions – I can’t even put it into words. I had so much fun – the kind of fun that made me realize maybe my working life isn’t as much fun as I sometimes think it is.

Right now, I live in fear that eventually I’m going to be made to wear google glass, or whatever the name is for that weird eye internet google thing. Years ago I swore I’d never be tied to a blackberry, and now I am. Later, I promised myself I wouldn’t ever tweet, and now I tweet regularly for work. I’ve since told myself the second someone expects me to attach a computer to my head, I’m outta here, but really, how can I even truthfully think that now? I’m so far from the girl who could spend hours studying Shakespeare and William Butler Yeats that I swear I saw the ghost of her walk by me last night, gently shaking her head, feeling sorry for thirty-six year old me. Of course, she was probably on her way to have a cigarette – it’s good that some things change.

The weird thing is, I’m not even unhappy! I like my work -often I could even claim to love it. I am compensated well, I work (mostly) reasonable hours, I love most of the people I work with and my work regularly interests me, so I’m not entirely sure where this sense of brokenheartedness comes from…maybe from not following my dreams? From some weird sense that I let the professors who so encouraged and believed in me down, even though many of them have either passed away or retired to esoteric parts of the world mainly to be left alone?

I think some of my angst over this stems from the fact that my current role in my office doesn’t particularly embrace intellect. One of the minor criticisms my boss gave me in my recent annual review was the idea that she thinks I overthink things too much. “This probably comes from your graduate school training, but you don’t have to think about things so hard!” she said. I HATE hearing that, even if it is true. Thinking about things hard – tackling complexity – those are the sorts of things I’m good at!

I’m lucky enough, though, to be able to look at the situation from the other side, as well. I’ve watched many of my friends, after our graduate degree, attempt to become freelance writers. While a few have succeeded admirably, many more have lived in a nightmare of pitches that are never responded to, completed work that is never paid for, and even projects canceled halfway through because a company suddenly cancels a project. Perhaps even more upsetting, none of the friends who pursued Ph.D.s at the time I was in school ended up in tenure track professorships, save one – the rest still live year to year renewing contracts with no hope of tenure and zero support for their research. When I think about that untraveled road, I wonder if I’d even be carrying this second child. Would I be able to afford him or her?

It’s funny, all the different lives we are capable of leading. Even if I’m experience a little buyer’s remorse, as it were, I’m grateful for the different opportunities I’ve been given, and I’m even more grateful I’m the kind of person able to adapt when necessary. I can recall more than one professor telling me “You should only get a Ph.D. if can’t imagine doing anything else,” and I felt so stymied by that declaration. Not imagine doing anything else? Why, I could imagine doing EVERYTHING else!

I’m not in any way ashamed of ending up in public relations – there is honor is simply getting up and going to work every day – and I am in the company of many writers. And a lot of the work I get to do is creative and rewarding. But I also don’t want to become the kind of person who, upon beginning Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections, breathes a sigh of relief for (a.) understanding it and (b.) enjoying it (not that I would know anything about that…) – I need to revise the way I’m thinking about my work, and possibly the projects I’m taking on. I am proud of what I do, but if talking to that one class taught me anything, I could do even better work – probably kick-ass work – if some of the circumstances I’m in now change.

Working is so weird, really, especially if you are lucky enough to do something you enjoy even halfway. You have to do it for a long time unless you are independently wealthy so you should probably do your damndest to make sure it’s something you like. I constantly waiver between considering myself relatively competitive and wanting to a be a leader at work, with visions of someday working for the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation or or the World Health Organization, and wishing I had a more laid-back career – maybe a free lance writing gig combined with teaching yoga, or something like that. That said, in my mid-thirties I can see a lot more possibilities for converging my interests than I ever did in my mid-twenties, and I’ve realized nothing has to be an either/or situation. I have a lot of friends who don’t like growing older, but so far, I am a fan of it – I like the perspective it gives and the opportunity it offers for incorporating what I used to think of as my many divergent interests into one full, fascinating life.



This weekend, Ian and I will celebrate our 13th year of marriage together. Before we had Grace, we most often celebrated our anniversary by a trip to the cabin or, at the very least, a fancy dinner out somewhere. This year, we are celebrating by throwing some meat in our smoker and enjoying the privacy our brand new backyard fence affords. In the last five minutes I realized maybe I should bake a cake or pie with G as well since she is fascinated by cooking and baking at the moment, both real and imaginary. Our celebrations will be pretty-low key the next couple of years, reflecting and embracing the fact that our marriage now includes our daughter and our soon-to-be second born.

In past blogs, I’ve written both mushy missives and advice-laden posts inspired by my marriage – I don’t keep it terribly hidden that I love my husband and derive a lot of joy and peace from our marriage. I also don’t keep it a secret that we have our disagreements and have to spend time working on aspects of our marriage occasionally. So, instead of going overboard on the mush or the advice this year, I thought I would present to you, dear reader, the top six disagreements Ian and I have never rectified. Maybe these will horrify you, or maybe you’ll see a little bit of you and your partner in these disagreements!

(1.) The validity of boneless, skinless chicken breasts for dinner: Before Ian and I became a couple, I probably ate boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cooked a variety of ways, at least half the week for dinner, if not more. I was raised in a cholesterol-vigilant house and my parents relied heavily on them for dinners, and I took that knowledge with me to college. Really, all you need for a delicious dinner is some chicken, some seasoning, a George Foremaan Grill and some veggies! Ian, however, believes to this day that boneless, skinless chicken breasts are only good for sorority girls and considers them terribly depressing for dinner. He will eat chicken otherwise – roast chicken, fried chicken, chicken in a stew – but he has never given in on the subject of boneless, skinless chicken breasts and, with the exception of the pesto chicken breasts from Whole foods, has never allowed me to make them for dinner. Through his sheer tenacity, Ian wins this argument, although they are the first food I make when he is out of town. Wait, that’s not right – he’s allergic to seafood. The first food I make when he is out of town is some sort of shellfish…followed the next day by chicken.

(2.) The placement of our bed in the master bedroom: We have a large master bedroom that comes complete with an area set aside for, well, we aren’t sure what. It’s a distinct area in the room architectually, and many people have recommended we turn it into a walk-in closet since our house was built during a time when people owned two dresses and one pair of shoes and so we find ourselves with a surplus of space but none of it for storage. Ian has long argued that our bed belongs in that space while I point out that if we put the bed there it will cover up one of the two heating/cooling vents and block air flow in the room. We’ve lived in the house for four and a half years and never managed to agree on the matter, moving the bed back and forth every six months or so. Currently, it’s in Ian’s preferred spot becaus he spent last weekend ripping up our probably 50 year old carpeting and moved it during the process. I guess right now he is winning this argument but I don’t expect it to last.

(3.) The pronunciation of the word lilac: I was brought up pronouncing it Li-LOCK – he pronounces it Li-Lack. This seems to be a regional thing – the farther south you travel, the more likely people are to pronounce it the way Ian does. On this same topic, you could see also the words: coupon, basil and sandwich.

(4.) The temperature in the house: Ian, I think perhaps because of some lingering autoimmune issues, likes the house extraordinarily cool in the summer and warm in the winter. He hates the ideas of open windows in the name of fresh air, and it is this issue more than any other that has me convinced we will either end up retiring in separate parts of the world or, best-case scenario, in side-by-side apartments with independent thermostats. This is an issue that actually makes me feel somewhat vulnerable in our marriage, as in “am I going to have to spend my WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE physically uncomfortable? With no fresh air? As in, FOREVER?” Because I never win the thermostat war.

(5.) Flonase: During the year of our great sicknesses, when G was first in daycare and we caught every germ that came our way, whether from her or the hospital system we work for, our family physician prescribed us both flonase as-needed to tame our sinus passages. I cannot put into words how well this worked for me, for everything from allergies to head colds, and I miss is it more than I miss wine during this pregnancy. Well, maybe not, but it’s definitely a tie! Ian to this day will not take flonase, but never can explain why. It has actually become something of a Thing – you know, the kind of thing where if I mentioned Flonase is any sort of conversation Ian immediately becomes defensive about it because I want him to take it, he won’t, and here we are. Winner? Me. I have the happy nasal passages.

(6.) Dress shirts in colors other that white or blue, creatively belted jeans and bangles: Also known as our dramatically different tastes in clothing. Ian is the most conservative dresser I think I’ve ever met, besides maybe my mother, but even she will add some splash now and again. Even my vice-president takes more risks than Ian does. He wears white or blue dress shirts, blue, black or grey suits, and a variety of ties, but never ornate or with an interesting pattern. At home, he wears jeans, khakis, polo shirts and boat shoes, and calls it good. In a way I envy him – he’s so certain about who he is and what he should look like. I, on the other hand, often let my out-of-control curly hair dictate my sense of style and for a long time mimicked Jewel. I’ve grown up a quite a bit in the time we’ve been together and I no longer torture Ian with peasant shirts and clothe jewelry and instead aim for a more classic look, with my hair usually as my sole accessory. We no longer have to argue about bangle bracelets and red dress shirts but sometimes I think we could both use a little pizazz. Maybe I will bejewel our blackberries….Winner: The viewing public who has to look at us.

There you have it! I am certain we have more disagreements that haven’t been resolved but they don’t easily pop to mind the way these six do. I think understanding compromise is an important lesson we should teach folks about to become newlyweds, but we should also teach the fine art of losing – you aren’t going to win every argument and the sooner one comes to terms with that, the happier the marriage will be!

Detroit – the next Pittsburgh?

It has felt a little strange recently, as the City of Detroit prepares to file for bankruptcy, to read various comparisons from major news outlets claiming Pittsburgh, the city I live in, could serve as a model for Detroit, an area I once also lived in. There have been dozens of articles over the last couple of years stating that Pittsburgh’s resurgence after it almost collapsed when the steel industry imploded could help guide Detroit in reinventing itself. Pittsburgh, in case you haven’t heard, successfully reinvented itself by focusing, in large part, on developing the health care industry and institutions of higher education, or “eds and meds.” Now we have Google and a thriving robotics center and a booming film industry, and more farm-to-table restaurants than you could eat at in a week. Detroit, many of these articles claim, could become the “next Pittsburgh,” if it could only be willing to shed its Motown, auto-industry dominated sense of self and focus on higher education and technological advancements as well.

Good luck with that.

Even my recent addition of The New Yorker is getting in on the act. writing “If you were to visit the Detroit Institute of Arts, home to Diego Rivera’s magnificent murals depiciting scenes at the Ford Motor Company in the early nineteen-thirties, and then take a stroll through the surrounding streets, you might be surprised at what you find: coffee shops fequented by young hipsters; old warehousesbeing converted to lofts; bike racks; houses undergoing renovation; a new whole Foods supermarket. After decades of white flight, black flight and urban decay, Detroit is being spoken of, in some circles, as “the new Portland” or “the new Brooklyn.”

It’s a shame, really, that in order to survive and then, thrive, Detroit needs to become the new anything beyond the new Detroit. I’ve told my father-in-law, who is ardently anti-Detroit, having had a relatively disappointing working experience in Michigan, that the Detroit currently portrayed in the media isn’t the Detroit I experienced from 2005 – 2008. Certainly, there was blight, and yes, I was once approached by a homeless man who threatened me for my engagement ring (lesson: don’t wear diamonds in Detroit. Hey! Could be the title of my memoir, yes?) but the majority of my experience was marked by evenings spent over mojiots and ropa viejo at Vicentes or beers and barbecue at Slow’s, watching the Tigers play at Comerica park or attending plays at Wayne State University. Ian and I both worked in the heart of the city and while my parents claimed our daily commutes to Detroit elevated their collective blood pressure for four years, I did not feel more vulnerable or unsafe than I do in the city of Pittsburgh, which is to say, not often at all.

I lived and worked in the Detroit area for four years, and I have many friends who remained there and have carved out gorgeous lives for themselves. At this point, between graduate school and my current position, I’ve lived and worked in Pittsburgh for nearly eight years, and to me there are some very definite differences between Pittsburgh and Detroit – differences that will probably keep Detroit from “becoming the new Pittsburgh” but will also hopefully become…whatever it’s meant to become next. In many ways, my answers might seem more pro-Pittsburgh than pro-Detroit, so first just let me say that while I live in Pittsburgh, and love it nearly unconditionally, and it has hold of my heart – Michigan, the state, IS my heart, and that includes Detroit.

(1.) Pittsburghers LOVE Pittsburgh – Michiganders mostly feel “meh” about Detroit – I have lived in four different states and six different cities, and I have traveled all over the country, and I really believe that NOBODY loves their hometown the way Pittsburghers love Pittsburgh. Loyalty knows no bounds here, and most people can’t imagine why you would ever want to live anywhere else. Don’t bother pointing out the dismal climate, often poor air quality and difficulty of getting from point A to point anything thanks to one-way roads, poor road construction, and oh my god congestion on the bridges – Pittsburghers will just cheerfully point out to you the rivers, the mountains, our identity as the one true Appalachian city and, of course the Pittsburgh Steelers. In Michigan, a majority of the people who travel into the city for work don’t live there, and a significant portion of the population never has to leave the suburbs at all. This means…

(2.) Pittsburghers USE their city, whereas people in the suburbs of Detroit don’t USE the city in the same way. I have friends with a wide variety of economic backgrounds, and while some of us have tickets to the ballet and others have tickets to the local football or hockey games, almost all of us have annual memberships to the zoo, the Carnegie museums and the library. It is never recommended that we take a drive outside the city, unless it’s for a very particular experience, like white water rafting or zip-lining. My friends and I take our kids to the Children’s museum, the zoo and Frick park – we go to the opera and fight to obtain tickets to touring Broadway plays – we all support our sports teams. In Pittsburgh, enjoying and using our city is a way of life. I was shocked recently to find out that the majority of my friends in Michigan have annual passes to the Toledo zoo instead of the Detroit zoo – their reasoning is sound (better zoo, + baby polar bears for the win!) but it still seemed odd to me that they would leave the state instead of supporting a local resource. Trips to the Detroit Institute of Art are considered a once-a-year luxury, as is attending a baseball or football game. Regular use really seems to make a difference, in the Pittsburgh vs. Detroit argument.

(3.) I’m going out on a limb with these next two, so keep in mind these are my personal observations and not necessarily how things are. On the whole, I find Pittsburghers signicantly less materialistic than many of the people who live in suburban Michigan. In Pittsburgh, it doesn’t feel like a race to keep up with the lastest fashions, cars and home decor whereas in suburban Michigan, it felt like people were conspicuous consumers. I’m not someone made to easily feel badly over a lack of interest in material goods, but in southern Michigan there was a tremendous emphasis on having a new model car, a new condo or home, and keeping up with trends. In Pittsburgh, rocking a pair of legggings and some rain boots is as fancy as it often gets, even in the nicer restaurants, and it’s more fashionable to take the bus or bike to work than it is to drive a car. If you DO drive it really doesn’t matter WHAT you drive but if you want to drive a Prius or other chargeable car, there are lots of stations to charge your car around the city. People live in old houses along older streets and they don’t automatically flee farther away from the city the minute they earn more money. There is an inherent focus on sustainability here that is endemic to the people and place of Pittsburgh itself.

(4.) I also think racism tends to be more up front in the Detroit area than it is Pittsburgh. I thought about saying that suburban Detroit is more racist than Pittsburgh but ultimately I don’t know if that is really true – what I do know is Pittsburgh is much more diverse than Detroit and suburban Detroit, and beyond that, I literally never hear negativity from my caucasian friends and co-workers directed toward other races or cultures. When I lived in Detroit many of my friends thought nothing about sharing their negative opinions about other races and cultures to an uncomfortable extent. The legacy of white flight from the late fifties and early sixties runs deep in Michigan, and the city and neighborhoods aren’t as integrated as they are here in Pittsburgh.

(5.) Time magazine, online, ran a great piece a while back that doesn’t appear to be saved in its archives, arguing that the very geography of Pittsburgh is what helped make its resurgence successful, and I think that’s the most important point I’ve read about this topic. Pittsburgh and the surrounding suburbs could only expand so far, limited as they are by rivers and mountains. Detroit, on the other hand, had seemingly limitless land surrounding it, so the expansion of the suburbs could go on ad infinitum. I grew up in northern Michigan, a four hour drive from southern Detroit, and upon my first few exposures to the extensive southern suburbs I didn’t understand how anyone could tell them apart. As far as I was concerned, Novi bled into Northville and Southfield bled into Canton which bled into Plymouth and they all looked exactly the same. After living there for four years I know that’s not the case, and each town is distinguishable, with its own heart and personality, but they are so interconnected by expressways it’s incredible. So, if you are raised in Novi, go to school in Novi, and do the majority of your living in Novi, you don’t necessarily feel connected to Detroit, in any way. The limiting geography of Pittsburgh prevents this sort of dissonance and makes, I think, a big difference in the way the city is embraced.

I don’t want to see Detroit crumble and fall, any more than it already has. It was once a truly great city, and it can be again. I think identifying industries that can be successful and help restore some of the economy is vital, as well. But Detroit shouldn’t be expected to shed its past – just celebrate it, learn from it and move on. There can only be one Pittsburgh, one Portland, one (thank God) Brooklyn – there only needs to be one Detroit. I think our energies could be better spent figuring out a vision for a new Detroit, one guided by its history and its present – a vision that draws on the strength and knowledge of those who live there, as well as the geography – than wishful hoping that Detroit will model itself after something its not.

A Liebster? Jeepers!


I have such a fun post to write on the heels of my vacation! My friend and fellow blogger, Katy, has nominated for me a Liebster award. According to her blog, a Liebster award is a way to recognize smaller blogs (defined as blogs with fewer than 200 followers). So first, THANK YOU, Katy, for this – it was such a nice way to return from vacation. I am looking forward to the day when our babes are a bit bigger and we can make time for hanging out over beer or coffee (or both!).

When you’re nominated for a Liebster, here’s what you do:
1. Thank the Liebster Blog presenter who nominated you and link back to their blog.
2. Nominate 11 blogs who you feel deserve to be noticed and leave a comment on their blog letting them know they have been chosen.
3. Answer the 11 questions you were asked and create 11 questions for your nominees.
4. Display the Liebster Award logo.
5. No tag backs, meaning you can’t just re-nominate the person who nominated you.

To begin, here are the questions Katy posed:

1. What sort of milk do you prefer to drink?
If I had to choose, I would choose chocolate, but only under duress. I do not like milk and never have – the mere thought of a glass usually makes me gag. When I’m pregnant, for some reason, I occasionally enjoy a glass – and when I do, I like 2 percent.

2. Do you prefer baths or showers and why?
I like each for different reasons but if I had to choose one for the rest of my life I would choose baths…there is nothing more relaxing than a long bubbl ebath on a cold winter night.

3. What percentage cocoa do you prefer your chocolate to contain?
Well, I’ve had 70 percent cocoa bars and really enjoyed them but since I am being entirely honest here, I prefer high-quality milk chocolate and really don’t know how much cocoa is actually in milk chocolate. I know, I know, we are supposed to prefer dark chocolate in this day and age but hey, you know what? At least I am at the point where I buy proper milk chocolate as opposed to the Milky Way bars of my youth.

4. What is your about-to-begin-the-workday ritual?
I wake up around 6:00 a.m. each day, prepare a cup of coffee and read part of the New York Times. Around 6:30 or 7:00 I wake up Grace and set her up with some juice (she also doesn’t really like milk and hey, neither did my grandmother! It’s genetic!) and a little television, and Ian and I take turns get ready for work. Around 7:45 or 8:00 I either drop Grace off at daycare (if I’m driving) or take the bus (if Ian is taking her to daycare). I always, always, always procure a second cup of coffee and spend the beginning part of my day, per my awesome job, catching up on world news!
5. Describe your perfect lunch meal.
Aw man, this is nearly impossible! Lunch is my favorite meal of the day and I have a very strong allegiance to it. Don’t even bother inviting me out for brunch – I HATE ruining my appetite for lunch. The thing is, there are just too many variables here…am I at home? At work? On vacation? On vacation in Italy??? Well, okay. I used to adore sandwiches above all things, but despite my best efforts I am growing up a bit, so…if I’m eating lunch at home, nothing beats a bowl of black bean soup with a little hot salsa, cheese, and sour cream, accompanied by a slice of fresh-baked chili cheese bread. If I’m at work and able to leave the building, I love a glass of chardonnayglass of sparkling water and either mussels from The Sharp Edge or the lobster roll at Eleven</a. On vacation? One of my most memorable vacation meals I enjoyed with Ian at some little hole in the wall on the Chesapeke Bay…an (unedited) cold glass of chardonnay and a plate of perfectly fried calamari. On vacation in Rome, I will always remember the pizza and wine my mom and I enjoyed before joining the hoards to tour the Vatican – everything about it was just perfect.

6. What are your thoughts on flavored dental floss? Unacceptable.

7. What is the most important thing about a dwelling? (Bonus: does your dwelling succeed at this thing?)
Well, anymore I beieve your home should support the lifestyle you like to have, so if you love rehabilitating a house then an older home might be right for you. If you prefer spending your weekends traveling or writing your home should not be difficult to maintain. This is a lesson Ian and I learned the hard way. Our dwelling is becoming what we need it to be, but doesn’t currently support our lifestyle.

8. Do you really untie your shoes before you remove them? Every time?No, never. If my mom knew it would drive her batty – she always used to tell me I was ruining the heels that way. Since I mostly wear high heels anyway, this isn’t too much of a problem for me.

9. What is your goal in blogging?
When I began blogging at my old blog, my goal was to practice article and story ideas out on the blog, and connect with other writers. My goal here is still to connect with other writers, but this year I’m really trying to adhere simply to the schedule of posting once a week – to keep showing up and hitting the keys no matter what Grace’s toddlerhood throws at me. I’m sure that goal will morph again as my children grow up and I’m able to devote more time to writing.

10. What part(s) of your current life is/are the way you imagined when you were in middle school?
Well, I thought I’d be an unmarried, childless Broadway actress, really and truly. So honestly? None of it. Thank God.

11. What would you say to your young self if you encountered her on her first day of college?
Figure out how to get properly involved with the English department. Try and write for the literary magazine, try out for the school paper, make friends with other English majors! (This is really my only college “regret” – I made lots of friends, studied by butt off, acted in plays, went to football games, but I struggled to really gain footing in the English department while there). Well, that and don’t open that shady credit card. You don’t know it now but you won’t pay it off until your thirties.

Now, for choosing my nominees! Please, please don’t be offended if your blog has more than 200 followers and I’ve nominated you – there is really no way to tell how many followers a blog has so basically I’m choosing blogs not affiliated with blogher and babble. The blogs I’m nominating are blogs I love for different reasons.

1. http://www.capriciousreader.com/
2. CharlotteOtter
3.Crummy Mummy
4. Emily Barton
5. Jen’s Feeling Forty
6. More than a Weed
7.Make Tea Not War
8. Musings from the Sofa
9. Smithereens
10. Tripping Toward Lucidity
11. Queen of Spain

And now, my eleven questions for my eleven beautiful blog nominees!

1. What is your favorite cookie?
2. You are home entirely alone, with no obligations to clean the house, catch up on homework or any other such nonsense. For my writer friends, you’ve already written that day. What do you do? And…
3. What do you eat and drink?
4. Is your day job also your vocation, or do you dream of doing something else one day?
5. Describe your dream vacation.
6. Do you know who the Kardashians are?
7. What’s your greatest health-related fear?
8. What’s the most recent, nice thing somebody has done for you?
9. How many pillows do you sleep with?
10. Dog person? Cat person? Neither? Both? If both, how do handle shedded fur management?
11. To go with a couple of upcoming posts I have planned, what is the best financial advice you ever received? Did you actually follow it?