She was married the first time when she was 13 or 14 years old. She was born in South Georgia to Olie and Albert. And at last count she was married five times to four different men.
She passed away about six years ago now. I love her, and I miss her.
Alice was my grandmother.
She possessed a restless sprit and an infectious laugh.
Her ability to laugh and make others laugh more often than not allowed her to cover any pain she may have harbored.
I heard that the other day and it resonated with me. I never liked cleaning.
The times I did buckle down and commit I found myself unable, or perhaps unwilling, to contain the spill. I eventually walked away leaving behind aspirations I could no longer support.
I see other women and men in relationships and I know their partnerships are just as difficult as any I have been in. I’m not special. I watch these people, who appear happy, and wonder if there will ever be a mess I like enough to stick it out for.
I continue to be attracted to men who are unavailable to me. And those who chase after me, who pamper me can’t hold my attention. All part of my brain’s mechanisms for keeping me from taking the easy way, or settling out of pure loneliness.
Continue reading “Love: Finding a mess you like and spending the rest of your life trying to clean it up.”
I was born into a large Southern family, fueled with cheese grits and dramatic stories of adventure and love: A great grandfather who ran white lightning, a grandmother who put passion before all else and a cousin with a proven strong right hook.
I have been feeling my own restlessness welling up lately.
I posted on Facebook a question, “Chrissy Clary is ready for a new adventure. Any suggestions?” After a quiet summer day watching the hummingbirds fly, and wondering if I should follow their lead, I was looking to the masses for help. But it was a small voice that grounded me.
Continue reading “Chrissy Clary is ready for a new adventure. Any suggestions?”
I was asked to do a book review by News-Journal Books Editor Karen Gallagher after she and I got to talking about all the how-to-find-romance books she gets in the mail. We joked (I thought) about how it would be funny for one of the newsroom’s single girls to write a review of these books.
The next day I arrived at my desk to find a copy of “The Man Plan: Drive Men Wild – Not Away” by Whitney Casey. Turns out I was the single girl Karen had in mind.
“The Man Plan” is a how-to guide for making sure every inch of a woman’s independence is tucked in and is slightly perfumed (careful, not TOO much smell-well girls).
Continue reading “Looking for love, ladies?”
I work in a room full of journalists. They are print people. They work day and night to meet a deadline. Each day a new deadline.
At some point in the last 15 to 20 years they were introduced to the internet. From what I can tell it was a slow introduction, recently accelerated by the shift in the economy.
This room of journalists, I can only assume, is much like other newsrooms full of writers working under the constant question of what the future will hold.
The room is abound with ideas and theories, none being obvious large revenue generators. The journalists separate themselves from the thought of how their mission will be funded and focus on the quality of their work and trying to understand the evolving beast that is the World Wide Web.
I find myself in a lucky position. I am a entertainment editor working fully online. Each day, I function in an environment fueled more by the hope of finding the link to newspapers of the future than the guarantee of a big payoff. Of course, there is a hope that the link will be the payoff.
I cannot speak to how my coworkers feel. I can only relate my own anxieties and hopes about the future. But let me make this clear, while there is a lot of anxiety there is as much, if not more, hope.
The shift in newspaper revenue, while devastating for many, may be necessary for news generators at all levels to look at their processes and procedures and put innovation before income.