Wittie Cooper wRItes again (and again)

My friend asked me what I noticed was most different about living in Rhode Island as opposed to living in Florida. Well, actually, no, no one asked me that because I haven't really made any friends here yet.  But if I did, I bet they would ask me that.  And for the sake of this post, let's just say they have. So anyway, I was chatting with my imaginary friend Imogene Nary and she said, "Hey, what do you notice is the most different about living in Rhode Island as opposed to living in Florida?" "Well, Imogene, I'll tell you, there are quite a few things*..." 1.)  Sticks are sticks (and not snakes,) logs are logs (and not alligators) This is something that is always tripping me up.  Though I am sure there are snakes here in Rhode Island, I have yet to see one, as opposed to Florida where you often saw some slithering through your garden or cutting across your driveway.  When I would go running outside I would often feel the need to slow down every time I s...

I don't know about you but I am the worst at knowing what to do with myself when people come to my house to repair, replace or build something.  I never know if I'm best to remain distant so they can get on with their job or if I should be chatty and hang around (as if I will be able to swoop in to help if they need someone to hold a gas line or pass them the right kind of screwdriver, thus securing myself two things: a new trade and - just maybe - a new friend).  I know it has something to do with me, my constant need to be liked, and yet my total fear of judgment from other people. Typically these interactions only go on for an hour or two so by the time you've either come off as a cold bitch or helpful Harriet, it doesn't matter.  They're passing you a paper to sign and they're on their way to their next job, never to be seen by you again. However, this is not the case when you are having your basement redone.   Yes, I can hear your thought bubbles now as you...

  I have this tradition with myself that I've managed to keep going for a few years now and this year it almost didn't happen.  Not because of a lack of money (although that really should've been the reason) or lack of time (hello Unemployment!) but for the simple reason that I didn't look hard enough.   Now, this may seem a little uncharacteristic of me, being a person who self-identifies as frugal, but every year for my birthday and Christmas I like to buy myself a little piece of jewelry.  Nothing outrageously expensive but something that is special.  Something that I can look at years later and remember why I bought it and where I was in my life.  Also, since now I have a daughter, I like the idea of her one-day fishing through a box of my jewelry and laying claim to a piece because it will always remind her of me.  This year, with the total upheaval of life, i.e. having a second baby, leaving my job and friends and family in Florida, starting...