I am not Richie Cunningham nor do I have a wife named Oprah.(Pop culture reference.) I AM fortysomething and can be fabulous when blessed with enough boredom to shut my laptop and ignore social media alerts. Lately, these blessings are few and far between so I thought why not be even more fabulous and write as much as I read and scroll. I have come to terms that my unused B.A. in Journalism will not make me millions but, what the hell? Those student loan payments have to count for something!
I’d like to write about anything and everything interesting enough to get me typing and away from Criminal Minds marathons on cable. (Two words: Shemar Moore.) Sharing my writing with others is a huge risk to my ego but I’m a big girl…I think. Frankly, Facebook and Twitter trolls scare the bejesus out of me (Just Googled “bejesus”. Wow.)
I’m in complete denial that not everybody enjoys James Bond, Dutch oven cooking, wine bottle label art, stretch jeans, Howard Stern and horror movies as much as I do. I secretly hope to gain a soul mate or BFF who shares in my belief that the world completely revolves around the beauty and perfection that is Daniel Craig.
I like food but I am in no way a food critic. Yes, my background includes over 15 years in hospitality, particularly restaurants. Yes, I’ve worked closely with chefs, servers, bartenders, dishwashers, managers, bussers, prep, line cooks, and basically any back or front of the house staff imaginable. But, this does NOT make me an expert in cuisine or dining perfection. My experience DOES give me bragging rights to recognize what’s good and f**kin’ ay awesome.
A few years ago life happened and I become not so not busy anymore. I’d like to claim the situation came out of nowhere but that wouldn’t be true. I loved what I did but I never thought it loved me back. So, indirectly, I retaliated with fatigue and lack of enthusiasm which does not bode well in the business of hospitality.
Therapy can come in many forms. So thank you for reading!