I always confuse Friday the 13th with the plot line from Nightmare on Elm Street. I usually blend together the stories and characters into one film that I don’t quite remember seeing when they first came out. I know Friday the 13th came out originally in 1980, which was an entire year before I was born. Growing up I saw bits and pieces when I wasn’t suppose to as my older cousins were watching. I never actually saw the entire series until 2012 when N.Y.C. was hit hard by Hurricane Sandy and I was home from work for an entire week, as my building was flooded. No movie was scarier than that life experience. I am now remembering how one of my older, wiser, cousins’ thought it was funny when we were all playing in his basement to put on the Jason mask, shut the lights, and terrify me. Perhaps that is why my wires are crossed about these films. Last night strangely enough, as I was thinking about writing this blog, I was in the car and passed by a street sign that made me imme

This is a story that is easy to share which is good because I felt it necessary to do so. This morning my honey nut Cheerios tasted like butter. In fact I can still taste it in my mouth. No matter how much water or coffee I drink it doesn’t seem to want to go away. Normally this would not bother me as butter and salt are things I crave on the regular even if I don’t let myself indulge. But today I certainly didn’t want butter to be the first taste of my day. It was so surprising I had to actually force myself to keep eating as I needed to coat my daily morning preventive meds I had already threw down my gullet. Acid reflux is a daily moment-to-moment battle as I try to balance the needs and wants of my head and stomach despite what I actually feel like having. Most of the time my head wins and my stomach, thus my life, looses. It is like my own personal version of the Hunger Games occurring within my body. To anyone else this butter flavor but have been concerning but f

As I have been pondering this topic I realized just how many books I have read that I want to write about. Even if their contribution to my life was small I am beginning to acknowledge that everything I read and take in will have some effect on me good or bad. There are countless topics rushing through my mind as I contemplate which to share. I want to focus on the books that have been the most memorable during the different phases of my life. You can be sure I have not put my finger on a book I had zero interest in. When last met (see previous post) I had just finished talking about Dave Pelzer and how his traumatizing childhood did not hinder him from becoming a positive voice for others. The books that came to me during my college years were very powerful.  For this discussion I am turning to the books I have read post school. However I decided that instead of breaking the list down by age or life stage I would instead be more specific and use their genres allowing for a

When I was a child a popular saying was, “reading is fundamental”. They never said fundamental to what, but nevertheless it took hold. Now it is one of my favorite sayings to use as a hash-tag. With modern technology used so often in the classroom these days there are no more chalkboards. Instead they are using smart boards. I am from the era where you fought with your classmates over whose turn it was to wash the chalk off the board before you went home. Yep I breathed in chalk and asbestos that are probably still in my lungs, seemed exciting at the time. I have no proof of course but these things make me wonder why I have chronic migraines. I also work near Ground Zero. Just sayin. Back in the late eighties when I was in elementary school technology wasn’t present until I was in the fifth grade. At that time we had a gigantic “state of the art” computer for all forty plus of us to share. A year later I would learn how to type on a typewriter. I wonder what year they recei

I have always been fascinated by history and as I have gotten older I have been able to appreciate the remaining relics that remind us of years gone by. Of course not all historical events worth remembering are of happy moments. In fact I believe it is probably those that are hard to deal with, process, and upset us to our core, are the events we need to pay closer attention to. We need to learn from our collective painful past. A good example of such a place is one I am simply ACHING to get to, the brand new Smithsonian facility- the National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC). It is the first museum of its kind and over a hundred years in the making. My passion for this place is based on the mementos of those who suffered for so long finally having a place of respect where their messages will be able to educate future generations for many more years to come. F.Y.I. tickets are free but booked until January so make your reservations now! The places I l