I’ve been a longtime proponent of a global economy. But after the glaring absence of China from last week’s world Climate Summit, my opinion may be changing.
My little cancer baby on the end of my nose surprised everyone but me. I was awake through the whole MOH out-patient surgery. With my nose numb, the cancer surgeon took a dime size divot off of the tip and carried his new extraction into the other room to observe under a microscope.
Well, I finally did it. I’ve talked about it, dreamt about it, and needed it for years; I hired an assistant!
Now, I am a person that goes to the dermatologist every year. For years, my doctor has recommended a preventative, deep-facial peel for the sun damage done to my fair skin during my youth. The only problem I have with this suggestion is the recovery time. For a week after this procedure, you look like a reptile during molting season. So, I put it off until last November when, once again, the doctor reminded me of the peel and went on to say that it was also good for getting rid of fine lines (he should have mentioned that earlier).
In less than two months, I have recorded three new radio interviews, torn my home up in a remodeling frenzy, bought a work-in-progress business in Miami with new travel expenditures, and happened to witness the launch of Elon Musk’s first civilian space launch with Space X from Cape Canaveral.
If you haven’t read Kristin Hannah’s book The Nightingale, then you need to put it on your book list. This soon to be made into a movie book has everything, except maybe laughter.
How Kerry McCoy Became an Enterprise
You may think this is weird, or awkward, but it wasn’t. This summer my husband Grady, son Matt, and his bride, Sara, vacationed in Colorado, where we stayed with my ex-husband, Ron, the father of my only girl-child, Meghan.
When traveling, I like to catch up on movies in my hotel room. The Ruth Bader Ginsberg movie, On the Basis of Sex, is a walk down history lane and should possibly be required-watching for all Americans. It is easy, when reciting a gratitude list, to omit and take for granted today’s equality for both men and women. It was a mere 40 years ago that men were not recognized in a court of law as care givers and therefore disqualified from tax relief and other compensations like women. Likewise, women weren’t recognized as head of household, thus unable to apply for credit cards or a mortgage without a husband’s signature.
It’s not the expensive, black jacket that I bought but, rather, the on-sale, red leather, fringed jacket that I didn’t buy that preys on my subconscious of regret.
When I was young, I envied those girls who were content to stay home on a weekend night and read or wash and set their hair. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stand to miss out on a single party.