December 6, 2015 • Laurie Newbound
I am fifty nine years old and I am losing my mind. Ok, I am not technically losing my mind, at least not yet. I see a therapist irregularly, and she assures me of this.
Of course, she is fifty nine, too, so not sure how much she can be trusted. I just FEEL like I am losing my mind. And, to my defense, I think most of my friends are, too. As defined by Wikipedia, (yes, this is lazy, but it is as good a definition as any) “the SANDWICH GENERATION is a generation of people who care for their aging parents while supporting their own children.” The term was officially added to the Merriam-Webster dictionary in July 2006.
June 13, 2016 • Laurie Newbound
My parents moved to Los Angeles from Toronto in their thirties and greeted the sunny lifestyle there like a long lost friend. Both fair and blue eyed, neither of them started using sunscreen until well into their fifties, and even then it was sporadic. In my household growing up, one of the biggest compliments to get or give was to say, “you caught the sun,” meaning you were tan or even working on a sunburn.
June 1, 2016 • Laurie Newbound
Last week, while loading cartons into my car during my office move, my cell phone fell out of my pocket and hit the pavement with a worrying sound. I have occasionally dropped my phone before, but it usually makes a thud, while this made a crack.
Sure enough, the display screen was, if not quite shattered, definitely altered. Images were fractured, as if you were looking through a fun house mirror.
May 19, 2016 • Laurie Newbound
I didn’t drink much in college. It wasn’t a big part of the culture of Sarah Lawrence, (weed was way more popular) but I did a guest semester at Mount Holyoke, and that was, absolutely, a drinking school. Girls at Mount Holyoke actually had bars in the dorms. They would stock the top of the dresser with what you might put in a bar cart, they had mixers, they had CHERRIES in jars and LEMON slices.
May 11, 2016 • Laurie Newbound
This week I am packing up an office I have had for seven years outside my home. I rented it during a time when our house felt noisy and chaotic and I needed a place of my own. Really, as Virginia Wolf famously said, a room of my own, because this is a pretty tiny room. But it was for a long time such a refuge for me.