Hickory Smoked Turkey

Tonight as I walked to buy  a bottle of wine I crossed my favorite  pedestrian bridge and took in the summer air of Pittsburgh.

It's like "Wife Swap"... only way better! Listen to four local writers, have some snacks and donate to a good cause.  See you on August 20th.

While drying my hair this morning, I felt hopeful for the day to come.  The sun was bright, birds were singing outside the window and I had just returned from a family vacation in Northern Michigan.  The mere seconds I basked in optimism for the day were thwarted by my own negative thinking.  I began to wonder: "Why would I love my life? I have a low-paying job that forces me to not only work full-time during the day but also at night, I'm a few pounds overweight, the apartment is messy, I don't have enough money and I haven't figured a damn thing out yet! What is there to love?" As soon as I caught myself in the downward spiral of negative thinking I re-routed myself back onto the optimism highway.  I was feeling inspired, damn it! Most of what I harbored on above is true, but what is wrong is my viewpoint, my own outlook on life.  Yes, I have a low-paying job and have to work multiple gigs to make ends meet but I am teaching, a vocation that feels right to...

It's like "Wife Swap"... only way better! Listen to four local writers, have some snacks and donate to a good cause.  See you on August 20th.

I've never been one to dread birthdays.  Turning a year older just meant, I turned a year older.  A few years ago, when I hit 31, I became the cliche.  I noticed my body began to change and it was no longer "easy" to lose those extra pounds.  Suddenly, having nachos for dinner, three nights in a row, wasn't a good idea. Recently, a student of mine wrote about the moment she realized her luck in life had run out.  I was immediately drawn to the piece because of the place I'm at in my own life.  In my mid-thirties, my perspectives, goals and realities have changed in a way I didn't expect.  My twenties, although there  were moments of distress, sadness or frustration, were seemingly smooth. I earned two master's degrees, moved to a different state, found work easily and moved along the days.  I spent time with good friends, ate good food, drank good beer and rarely worried about my future health or my future in general. Things woul...

Interesting article about the role writing plays in our own healing. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/25/magazine/why-talk-therapy-is-on-the-wane-and-writing-workshops-are-on-the-rise.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

It's like "Wife Swap"... only way better! Listen to four local writers, have some snacks and donate to a good cause.  See you on August 20th.