I almost wish my kids were down the hall, sleeping. That I had bought some ham and tortillas and potatoes and salsa and eggs to make the boy a breakfast burrito. That I had bought the girl some melon, a banana, and maybe some kind of bakery pastry. That I could make her a cup of tea. But they are on the other side of the county. And that is how it’s supposed to be.
Am I serious? Privilege? Yes. At least when I'm not joking. While privilege can teach you what color shoes to wear with navy blue, nothing beats the privilege of being alive. So let's talk style, in the context of culture. Let's focus on the over-50. For more, please go here. Or you can reach me at my email: email@example.com. That's the name I wanted to be called when I was 16. Ah. 16....