I love writing my blog.  I love seeing my words on the screen, and knowing I put them there.  I get a head rush every time I hit the PUBLISH button, and don't ask the excitement that ensues over here if I get a comment posted;  it's almost as thrilling as when I was chosen to be a safety patrol in sixth grade.  (Okay, I wasn't chosen, I begged to be part of the force, and then pretended I was Julie from the Mod Squad.)

Every morning I would put on my orange safety belt and helmet and head over by bike to my post, the corner of 66th street and Tyrone Blvd.  Because I had begged and cried and had my mother call the school every day for a week, I was given the most dangerous intersection in the neighborhood.  In St. Pete, Florida, (aka God's Waiting Room,) in the early 70's,  crossing 66th and Tyrone was much like crossing six lanes on I-75, at night, in the rain.   Imagine a road filled with Mr. Magoos driving to their eye doctor appointments, while trying to read a map.    This is what I was dealing with.

The kids would gather at my post, and I would hold my arms up until the light turned green.  At that point I would drop my arms and scream "CROOOSSSSSS!!" and basically they would run for their lives.  I never lost one on my watch although, looking back I think the school was hoping I would at least be blamed for a major injury.  Then they could tell my mother "We told you this is no job for a skinny Jewish girl who rides a purple metallic bike with a banana seat and flowered basket to work,"and get one of the more competent girls who rode their brother's rat bike to school and had to make their own after school snacks.

Just a side not here, when my kids were in school we had COPS directing the CAR POOL!  I can't imagine parents sending their kids off on bikes and putting their trust in an 11 year old girl with major anxiety issues.

Anyway, back to my blog.   So as much as I love getting a new follower and seeing my hits number get higher, I feel I need to branch out a little bit.  I really want to talk to women about my experiences, share my blog with them and get feedback and exchange ideas...blah blah blah. I believe these days it is called networking.   The problem is, I don't really like being in crowds, and by crowds I mean more people than me.

You see, it turns out I was born with an anxiety problem.   I came out of the womb and felt like I was walking into a party that was in full swing.  I arrived late and naked.  (Who knew that theme would reappear in college years?)  I immediately requested my bassinette be put in the back row facing the wall.

At age 2  I was put on some type of tranquilizer as I had yet to sleep through the night and my parents were getting sort of tired.  Now,  I am sure this was no fault of theirs, and I am sure I was not not the only 2 year old in preschool on a prehistoric form of Xanax, (Note to therapist....SEE?)

Anyway, I have decided to join two networking groups and take the plunge into the grown up form of sorority mixers.  My first event is tomorrow at the Outback Steak House.  I am hoping this won't be like the time I went to my first Journalism Club meeting in high school, where I was given the job of sharpening pencils while the other girls went to interview the new Sociology intern who looked like Vinnie Barbarino.  G'day mates, wish me luck.


Ex-Wife New Life: living life newly single at 50 while overcoming the pain of divorce and moving on. Visit us @ OR participate @


  1. You're an inspiration to many women! I find your blog entries both humorous and uplifting. Keep up the good work! We're all backing you.
    You go, girl!!

    Signed: Soon to be married again at 51! And, very happy!


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