My office has a window with a nice view to my front patio. It provides me with little distractions throughout the day while I'm sitting here writing. I can watch the people walking their dogs, the cars coming and going, and the birds flitting about.
My boyfriend and I were trying to figure out what our taste buds wanted for dinner. Pizza was the obvious choice, but somehow it just wasn't resonating. As soon as I said Chinese, we started salivating.
And, I knew just the place. It had been many years since I had last been there and I missed it. I initiated my internal GPS and guided us to Crown Chinese Cuisine.
I've always wondered where my business cards went. I assumed that like much of the clutter that invades our lives, they just get tossed in the trash.
I have worked hard to make my business cards memorable, or at least to make them too pretty to throw away. It seems to have worked.
I just got done filing my state sales tax form for last year. Nothing like waiting until the last minute. Thankfully, I didn't have that much to pay. Unfortunately, I didn't have that much to pay.
A couple of weeks ago, I called Morgan Stanley to take some money out of my account. I've done this before, they have all the appropriate paperwork on file, and it's an easy process. Right?
Bright and early last Sunday morning I took my artwork in for jurying. I am trying once again to get into an art show I have been trying to get into for years. It's been over a week and I am still waiting to hear back from them. I guess I am a glutton for punishment as this is the eighth time I have tried to get into this show.
I think that as artists, we are all plagued by self-doubts. I know I am. There is always that incessant voice in the back of my head that keeps asking, "Am I are good enough?"
Yesterday, I pulled my violin out of its case. I even trimmed my fingernails, but on my left hand only. What prompted this sudden interest in playing the violin again is that my new boyfriend is a bit of a musician himself. Now, I'm not ready to subject anyone else to the sounds that barely pass for music emanating from my violin at this stage. (Plus, I really don't want to scare this guy away.)
I recently started dating again. I joined a couple of those online dating services. I created an interesting profile and posted a bunch of photos.
I've received quite a few responses. They seem to fall into three general categories:
Last night I went to my very first rock concert. I know, not something terribly earth shattering, but it was a new experience for me.