I stood in the French Quarter today. Specifically, I stood in Jackson Square. It was 55 degrees, but the sun was shining and the people were happy. It’s a tourist weekend here, and yesterday, the weather did not make friends. …
A Sunday in San Francisco
I’m but six blocks from the office, but I’m worlds away from Market on a Monday. On Sunday, on a warm day, the streets are L-I-V-E; the streets are raucous. It's a Sunday in San Francisco.
My heartbreak; your headache. How to handle divorce in the workplace.
This story originally appeared on Relate by Zendesk. We sat across the kitchen island, my forever husband and I, chatting about our day. There were periodicals strewn amongst the dinner dishes—magazines nicked from airport lounges, the daily newspaper that’s thrown over …
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Blue dogs and blue underwear
It’s Election Day; it’s raining today. At 6am I walked the 300 feet to my polling place. I left the house with my newly minted Louisiana ID in one hand and a good cup of coffee in the other. I …
Are you kidding me? You BOUGHT a dog? Yes, we bought a dog.
We were reminded last week, painfully thanks to social media, that we said goodbye to our old corgi two years ago. Seeing Iona’s craggy, yet smiling face on my Facebook and Timehop feeds was both lovingly memorable and deeply painful. Twenty-four …
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You want to visit New Orleans, do you?
It’s novel to live back in a city where people want to visit. With three dates already on the books, we’ll quickly surpass the visitors we ever had to Norfolk. Yeah, we don’t blame you either. If this is your …
Everything in New Orleans is a good idea
Another new state, another new city. The Reeds keep the moving trucks rolling. It’s been what? A month? 6 weeks? No matter the time, the city of New Orleans is grabbing hold—tightly with her dirty, gritty, unwashed hands. Everything Norfolk wasn’t, …
What did we do? It’s a puppy.
I never birthed a child. My stepson came to me at the delightful age of potty-trained, able to feed himself, and with the capability to use words to ask for things. This pleased me. I never owned a puppy. Iona …
You can call me Oy.
I am obviously not the first dog in this rodeo. I am not even the first corgi. These people seem to get me. They also seem to get me confused with the thing they call the Max. And then there …
It’s Monday: a new week, a new year
I woke up this morning with three extra pounds of holiday cheer. My hot husband calls his the Christmas wreath. I’d made it to Hawaii and back with nary a gain. We’d run almost every day and the indulgences, while …
