Amongst other things I’d like to see pigs fly.

I’ve decided – during my writing drought – to take it back to the beginning. I found this site of writing topics for all grades of learning, so here goes Grade 1.

Topic – “I’d like to see . . .”

The rings around Jupiter, but I don’t have a telescope and it will only be viewable for the month of August. My friends in Truckee, but my time is tangled around an unpermitting schedule. Blake’s happiness, but he’s sixteen and angst happens. The digits of my bank account increase to six…I didn’t say seven so it shouldn’t be too much to ask. Justice for Jeffrey, but it’s not easy when no one is trying to convict. A healthier wife, a healthier life. ‘Romy and Michele’s High School reunion with Carolyn. Blackberries in amount of plenty to share with Ray. Adam & Shay eating Mighty Taco with me. A desert retreat of Justin and company dancing to drum beats. Rebecca meditating with the monks. Mark Bradley go Ivy League.

I’d like to see every classic black and white movie; no shedding of hair from my doggies; Stella soften to cuddly; mom in NYC and free; roadside attractions from an RV; more postcards from Murray; the Mapleleafs win the Stanley Cup; My feet standing in every country; an acronym next to my name (preferrably with the letters C-E-O); dolphins swimming next to me; this tattoo actually removed; and pigs fly.

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The Forbidden Fruit of The Big Apple.

Do you remember the first time you settled somewhere and became rooted, even if it was inadvertently?

I do.  I’ve mentioned before how many places I’ve lived (20 different zip codes).  Without a doubt a gypsy was born when I turned eighteen.  A fly-by-her-seat gal that could easily fit everything owned into a coupe and jet off into the sunset on any given day.  It was a freedom unlike any other with just the open road, music, and me.  Pulling into unknown territory with a discovery high.  It never ceased to amaze me at how quickly I met people since I considered myself somewhat of an introvert, but in retrospect it could have been my romance with who I wanted to be.  Once the discovery was over, it was time to pull a Christopher Columbus (sans the raping and stealing from the Indians) and head into uncharted territory.   This was my life for six years, and then I took a bit of the forbidden fruit – the big apple.

I’ve got to be honest, when I first landed on the concrete paradise I didn’t think I would spend a year here much less 9 years.  Alas, here I am writing this post from postal code 10036 (Midtown).  I certainly never expected for my feet to dig into the ground, firmly planted, and grow roots.  So you trade in the concrete for a yard, which puts you in either Brooklyn, Long Island, or where I live, New Jersey. Had you told the gypsy she would be a homeowner in New Jersey, living with a woman, and chasing after three extremely spoiled animals, she would have told you to get off the acid.

I had always been the one leaving, departing for a new adventure.  I had a reputation to live up to  – my high school awarded me ‘Most Adventurous’.  Under the stability of today, friends all around me bid their goodbye and head into my previously chartered territory; a new life.  From where I stand, home, the fruit is bittersweet.

Good Morning.

This is typically how my day starts (pre traffic, pre work, pre bi polar NYC weather).

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Alas, this is how it usually ends.

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Until the weekend, then it’s more like this…..

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I mean minus the beach, palm trees, and super relaxing hammock!

The factory warranty on my car ran out a long time ago, so stop calling me.

The area code may change on the screen of my cell phone, but the message is always the same, “Hi, this is the second notice that the factory warranty on your vehicle is expiring.”

Apparently, most of NYC’s factory warranties on their cars are running out because everyone I meet and talk to lately has been cell-phone spammed (with this message).  It certainly seems like they have picked the wrong city since according to the 2000 U.S. Census, more than 75% of Manhattan households do not own a car.

Maybe they should just stand at the subway turnstiles and try to sell a Metro Card swipe instead?

How To Get Rid Of These Calls


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