The Grinch, The Grudge and the Truth.

Recently, I was burgled. I was saying "robbed" until someone corrected me. I guess saying you were robbed sounds like being mugged, which I was not. I wasn't there. I wasn't present.

My holiday shopping and personal effects were locked in the trunk of my friend's car... in what I thought was a secure parking garage.

They took a lot of stuff, including my keys and my coat... my passport and some expensive stuff I can't afford to replace.

A TROPHY JUST FOR SHOWING UP

Millennials. The internet generation. Once called generation Y, to follow X, some pundit or scientist decided that it was more apt to coin the term that refers to those who came of age during the turn of the millennium. It includes pretty much myself and probably 80% of those who most impact my life. I'm not a big fan of the label. Then again, it was probably never meant as a compliment. I think we also could be called The Lost Generation. Unless... I think maybe that was another term for The Beatniks. Not that we are dissimilar. I digress.

AMBITION AND FAILURE

     It's a funny thing... ambition. Too little of it and you end up on a couch in your mom's basement until she dies. Too much of it and you haven't got a friend in the world. The happy medium seems to be what someone should strive for. Finding that sweet spot somewhere between the destitute longing of poverty and the glassy-eyed empty shell of someone who can't enjoy the fruits of all their labor. You don't want to be Jane Fonda in They Shoot Horses, Don't They? and you don't want to be Jane Fonda in her real-life, loveless marriage to Ted Turner, either.
     I don't need a billion dollars to be happy. I think it's actually counter-productive to happiness to have that much money and success. There's a point when it's just gauche. I don't know about you, but I genuinely do not want to be Anna Wintour. She looks miserable.

REGARDING SECRETS

     This, my new blog, will be comprised of rotating topics. This week my topic is SECRETS- Who has them, what they are and why we keep them. A coworker asked me this morning what my darkest secret is... and I was stumped. I know I have secrets. Everyone has secrets. I just couldn't think what mine were, on short notice. I still don't really have an answer. I'm a habitual over-sharer. My initials are TMI. I guess I have the opposite problem. I don't know how to keep my mouth shut.
     I think my biggest secrets are lies I told in the past, that are now irrelevant or moot. I once told my first boyfriend I was 18 when I was, in fact, 16. He found out abruptly when a cop knocked his flashlight on the fogged-up window of our SUV and I fumbled for a weak excuse as to why I couldn't provide an ID. In retrospect, most of my past secrets either make me giggle or roll my eyes. There are very few examples of my lack of veracity negatively impacting my life, or hurting others. There are examples, but they are so far in the past, I would prefer to keep them where they are and let sleeping dogs lie. No pun intended.