I really wished they asked me this more when I was a kid. My What Do You Want To Be answer always ended with “a veterinarian” and then some stiff, condescending adult would tell me I would have to go through a lot of school and be really good in math and science, thereby stomping out this dream as if it were a fire.

What Do I Want To Be? A good person. An honest person. Witty.

Always tell kids their dreams are possible. No, I probably wouldn’t make a good vet, but I didn’t need to know that at eleven. I would have figured it out eventually, the way I have figured out that I am not a good whistler nor a good volleyball player. Trial and error.

I am about to create a lesson plan for a travel/food writing workshop I am doing with kids at 826 Seattle – a writing tutoring center. I don’t have kids and am never around them, so I am really nervous they’ll think I am boring. I fear the wrath of spitballs and bad evaluations.

She sucked!
What was with that long explanation about chicken fingers and spaghetti? Does she think we actually eat that stuff? 

I suppose I should start thinking of age-appropriate jokes and stop swearing to prepare.

What I want(ed) to see:

The Pyramids (obviously)

The sod houses in Kansas (someone read a lot of Little House on the Prairie)

Belize.

Wild horses. In particular on Sable Island.

Venice, Italy.

South Africa.

Kenya. Mainly for safari purposes. Continue reading →