bitter? purge and surge

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A Momentary Departure

April 02, 2009

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In the midst of the BITTERness of unfulfilled dreams, and unlasting loves,
I admit that I am BLESSED.

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I'M BAAAACK...!

PURGE AND SURGE Nine years ago, I started this blog, and then I stopped writing. I stopped cold. I landed a part time consulting gig outside of the entertainment industry. I had to learn the job. It became a real job. A full-time job, and I was grateful. Next thing I knew, I was managing dozens of people. It became an all-consuming, life changing behemoth. I stayed for nearly eight years. During which, Mom had a stroke and life became more serious. The last 12 months have been the most challenging of my life. And as cliché as it sounds, that which doesn't kill you, returns you to who you are. The one thing I know for sure is that when your soul is called to do something, it will not rest until that work is done. In fact, it will conspire with the Universe leaving you with no other alternative. Alas, the time has come to write again. And though relaunching this blog elicits more than a few trepidations, as a very wise and talented producer counseled, “Stacey,

Haiku On Aging

Between my two breasts Appeared a single gray hair. And then, another.

Holding the Vision

Eleven years ago, I taught my godchild how to make a vision board. We grabbed a pile of magazines, scissors, glue sticks and poster boards and designed the lives we wanted. I found photos of handsome men, tropical beaches, exotic cars, big houses, stacks of cash, babies, and phrases like, "You Got This," "Wonder Woman," "Hollywood Power Player," and "Happily Ever After" and carefully adhered them to my board. When my goddaughter presented her board, I was mortified. There were no cute boys, trendy outfits, silly girls modeling makeup, or various careers. Her board had all the makings of a perfect little house. She was 17, and she was clearly preparing for domesticity. I panicked, "Are you trying to tell me something?" She laughed, "No, Nini, I'm not!" That didn't settle well. "Then why do you care about a perfect kitchen?" I asked. "What the hell?" I'd like to say that I was cool,

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A Momentary Departure

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