Lights, Action, Content!
Daddy was a Buckeye (Ohio) and mama was from deep Alabama from the poorest side of town. I was raised knowing that who dotted the 'i' during Ohio State football was important and thus began my love of a big college band. I was born in October during the World Series, raised in the Air Force and lived in at least three states before I was five years old, and lived in Germany during the swinging sixties. We were close to mod London and stayed connected to the exploding music scene in the states through Radio Free Europe. I was oblivious to anything outside of the military, but developed overly sentimental feelings about small town America. A Woolworth store and a nickel in my pocket, made me happier than a bug on a tomato. An icy cold Orange Crush in the original bottle out of an original Coke machine in Lancaster, OH, made me want to live. Fast forward to settling in Cocoa, FL, during the Apollo program, then being transferred to Bowie, MD, where I graduated from high school. My graduating class had 900 graduates and I was ranked smack dab in the exact middle. Oddly enough, nearly all of my boyfriends were in the top 10. I like 'em smart. College three years. Quit. Worked as a legal secretary in DC with notables and learned so much about life and the importance of manners. Married Jerry (Notre Dame and Yale Law) who sent me back to college (George Mason, Social Work) and who was, coincidentally, a fellow lifelong Steelers fan. Joshua Morgan made me a mom. Had a bunch of dogs before I became the cat lady. Ran from the mad rapist one time. Two excellent wonderful jobs after the legal stint and then back to George Mason for MPA (Public Admin). Quit--because I'm an idiot--and moved to FL in 2010. Unemployment ... for four long years. Remember my infatuation with small town America? I'm neck deep in "main street" bidness.
Okay, you're up to date. Now time for a quote on "what I've learned."
“Never put down your bread pudding with whiskey sauce where you were sitting, leave, and then sit back down without picking up your dessert first. Unless you’re lucky enough to have pig pants as PJs.”
