I am technically middle-aged. How bizarre is that? My next birthday is right around the corner, so at the moment I'm bracingly aware of chronology and its effects on one's life. Oh, sure, aches and pains are becoming commonplace, that's a given. But I look around at my peers and friends whose ages range from early 20s to 50s+ and the idea of where I am in my life in relation to them is pretty out of whack. Many, if not most, of my high school and college chums are married with children. I sometimes feel as if I just graduated from college, as if I'm still the child.
I was an English major in college with a creative writing focus. I have always written: poems, letters, songs, journals. On the cusp of this next birthday, as another year of my life is logged and measured, I have decided to join the blogosphere. I now open up my musings for the world to see, although I have no idea who in the world will read them.
This, to me, is a memoir in progress.
Topics that may arise out of my world are: wine, baseball, love and the search for same, music, art, creativity, how to live as full and as fulfilled a life as possible, New York City, and anything large or small that enters my orbit and catches my attention.
It is indeed about time.
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