But Wasn't There Some Sort Of Rule

We All Laced Together—a Brothel Madam, An English Professor, A Mute Cook, A Quadroon Cabbie, And Me, The Girl Carrying A Bucket Of Lies And Throwing Them Like Confetti.

One Day When I Was Fourteen, I Told Charlie That I Hated Mother. “don’t Hate Her, Jo,” He Told Me. “feel Sorry For Her. She’s Not Near As Smart As You. She Wasn’t Born With Your Compass, So She Wanders Around, Bumping Into All Sorts Of Walls. That’s Sad.” I Understood What He Meant, And It Made Me See Mother Differently. But Wasn’t There Some Sort Of Rule That Said Parents Had To Be Smarter Than Their Kids? It Didn’t Seem Fair.

Sometimes There Is Such Beauty In Awkwardness.

I'm A Binge Writer. I Work In The Music Business Fulltime, In Artist Management And Developing Songwriters And Recording Artists, And So Juggling My Job I Carve Out As Much Time As I Can On The Weekends.

Decisions, They Shape Our Destiny.