Dear Diary, I am…at Ridge Run Park.

“I don’t want to go to the park.” Klaire slouched over and lifted her face up to whine.

I threw her sweater at her as I put sandals on her little sister.  “What else are you going to do? You haven’t done anything else all day.”

“Watch more T.V.” The five year old mumbled under her breath as she worked on buttoning her sweater. Continue reading

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Dear Dairy, I am…lonely.

I remember thinking how crazy my grad student coworker was by saying that she missed being in college. Working 25 hours a week and taking 19 credits, I thought nothing could be more beautiful than graduating, until it happened. I graduated. I receive a good job, and within months I was living on my own in my own little apartment. I absolutely loved it! I could get in my pajamas right after work, I could come and go as I pleased, wake up and fall asleep when I wanted to—everything was perfect…until life slowed down, and I realized—I was alone. I saw my college friends posting the pictures of all their fun times, and I realized that I was missing out. When I was sad, I had no one to talk to.  When there was an event going on, I had no one to go with. My heart was sad, and it hit me—I was lonely. Continue reading

Dear Diary, I am…in Wisconsin.

I live in Wisconsin, but not for long as I am actually leaving the state. But before I leave Wisconsin, I had to write about it. People don’t think much about Wisconsin—we have our cheese curds, cows, beer, “bubblers,” weird accents (even after having lived in Florida for four years, I still say “bayg” instead of bag). But really, Wisconsin is so much more than that. Really, we are an underrated gem in the treasure box of America.

Continue reading

Dear Diary, I am…being fired.

Thank goodness, not from my full-time job. I couldn’t afford that. But I was fired from my nanny job. I am so angry. Let me tell you! The mom waited for the dad to return home from his business trip. Then without telling me anything, she took the kids out to a restaurant. The kids, MY kids, that I had so many memories with—my fuzzy socks that brought them so much excitement, the boyfriend that the little boy was going to find for me, the countless hours I spent teaching the little girl math. They were being taken away from me, and I didn’t even know it yet. She took them away, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye! Continue reading

Dear Diary, I am…at Ft. Pickens.

Well, not right at this moment, but I was back during my last semester at college. I went to school in Pensacola, Fl. Just a 20 minute drive from the beach—something I happily left Wisconsin and its subzero winters for. Pensacola Beach is nice. Often it is hard to remember things like taste and touch, but when I stepped into the water at Pensacola Beach for the first time, I distinctly remembered how much colder Lake Michigan was, and I called my family into the water saying that this was bath water. But Pensacola Beach, the glowing sand (just a little, not like in those pictures you sometimes see on Facebook), and jellyfish are not what I am here to reminisce. Continue reading

Dear Diary, I am…a writer.

And not just because I decided to start my own blog. I do make a living writing, both full-time and part-time freelancing (I know what you’re thinking, “Who’d she sucker to pay her to write for them?” But believe it or not, I live off my writing. That should give you not-so-confident writers something to have confidence about. If I can do it, anyone can.). The thing I love most about writing is that as a writer you are always (or should be) growing and learning. I know I am. Continue reading

Dear Diary, I am…exploring close to home.

I love traveling. I love visiting new places, exploring different states, and flying around the world. Although I have visited a couple foreign countries and a few states, I don’t often get the chance to go on big trips. My budget screams louder than my wanderlust. And sometimes my mode of transportation that brings me to my new adventure is my bike.

When I moved into my new city, I was excited. This would give me the chance to explore something new. However, what I had seen of the city of about 60,000 was not very impressive. Continue reading

Dear Diary, I am…a dreamer.

It happened all at once—the shooting. People were screaming, everyone was running away in different directions. It looked like there would be many casualties. I heard the shooter running in my direction. I grabbed my knife and crouched. Just as he ran past, I stabbed him and grabbed his gun, saving the remaining people in the area. Once the mess settled down, ambulances cleared out the wounded, and police started their investigation, it came out that I was the hero. I saved the day. Continue reading