So I started the night off not understanding anything anyone was saying. Could be due to the meds. Could be due to the fact that most of the other bloggers were British.
Seriously, how can we make it through the chaos without a gaggle of girlfriends? They are there for us in a variety of ways. Maybe not the same girlfriend every time, but a different one for a different need or a different chapter in our lives.
Cruising through streets and neighborhoods that we once loved reminiscing as we navigate our way through our own history. It’s about a trip down memory lane and fond memories. It’s about putting your hands on the wheel and feeling something familiar that grounds us to our past. Don’t take it personally, it’s not about you. It’s all about us.
If Martha Stewart would’ve concentrated more on these tid-bits of information versus insider trading, I probably wouldn’t be in the pickle I am in tonight around the Lawrence of Arabia dining room table.
Do you know how badly it would hurt us to see the disappointment in our children’s eyes, if years from now we told them story of the opportunity we abandoned which would’ve changed their perspective for the rest of their lives? That’s why we chose to go away.
It is a love affair with the unknown. An addiction to the experience. A memory that may never be forgotten.
Twice I was in a room filled with people who looked just like me — and it was odd. Nobody with dark skin. Nobody with a Middle Eastern accent. Nobody dressed in their country’s native clothes. Only white people, in white people clothes, having white people conversation — and I was bored.