Tag: stacie chadwick
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Is That Your Daughter’s Bra Hanging From A Tree?
Because it’s not my daughter’s bra. Or at least, not yet. I took my girls to the mountains last week for some didn’t-get-around-to-doing-all-the-cool-things-I-promised-you-this-summer-and-sort-of-need-to-fit-it-all-into-one-day family fun. Well, family – two + two, because my husband had to work, my son was already back at school, and each of my daughters decided that bringing a friend would…
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Why You Can’t Pimp My Ride
Most people view the car they drive as a direct portal to their super-shiny souls. O.K. that’s not true. They actually see their wheels as a reflection of the bulging, glossy, shark skin wallet poached off an endangered Great White on some spendy dive trip to Belize. Not me though. I consider my car, or…
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Colorado is Burning
I’ve always been a big non-believer in luck, at least the kind that bleeds bank accounts dry because it’s tied to an arbitrary sequence of numbers that careen down a treacherous path to nowhere. The definition of luck I subscribe to isn’t random. It can’t be bought or sold. It’s more of that mathematical equation…
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If It’s True You Can’t Go Home Again, Does It Matter If You Get Close Enough To Knock On The Door?
Everyone on earth yearns to connect with someone, to find meaning in the moment and value beyond the day-to-day. Unless you’re that dude wearing yellow crocs and a vacant stare trolling up and down the street. If that’s the case and all you want is a Butterfinger and a ride on your pet unicorn so you…
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How Do You Move Forward When You’re Grinding All Your Gears?
As humans, we’re constantly in motion. But motion and movement are two very different things. Just because you’re in motion doesn’t mean you’re necessarily going anywhere. Trust me on this, I know. If I could catch a ride with Richard Branson on his uber-expensive Virgin Galactic Gateway to Space, I’d easily be able to assess…
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I Think I’m Smarter Than You
No, not you. The you I’m referring to in this post is my seven-going-on-seventeen year-old daughter, Essa. Running short on time and long on things to do, I had a simple conversation with my little girl the other day that went something like this. Me: Essa, we’ve gotta pick up Taylor and Grace. Get in your…
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Coming of Age in a Jeep Wagoneer
During a Christmas break sophomore year in college so lame it seared a slow burn straight through the shelf, my mother released me from the death-grip of boredom and into the open arms of memories being made. The call to adventure went something like this: Susie, college friend from not-so-sunny Cleveland: “Hey Stacie, wanna go…
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My New Dog is Gone
When I started this blog a few months ago, my intent was simply to build an audience to support the book I’m writing, so an agent could cyber-stalk me and see that people were interested in what I had to say. Or so I hoped. But as I began to post, a beautiful yet unanticipated…