Outfit Details Joie Skirt, Rails Top, Ash and Ky Bracelet “Do you want to go to a flapjack eating contest?” I often think about how different my life would be had I said no to this question a year and a half ago. I was living in Portland, Oregon at the time and visiting my cousins in Newport Beach, CA. They had to go to an event one afternoon so suggested I go to a flapjack eating contest with one of their friends in Laguna Beach. I had about a 0-5% interest in attending. But, I made a . . .
A year ago, before I moved to Orange County, I told my employers in Oregon that I was moving because I’d won a writing competition at Chapman University and was going back to school to work with a professor on my novels. The truth was I hadn’t actually won the competition yet. I’d only entered. But I believed that what I’d written was good enough to get me accepted and more importantly, I WANTED that to be the way my life unfolded. So I made the move BEFORE I knew the results, which helped me . . .
For the longest time I hated the smell of cigarettes—probably almost as much as most people hate Valentine’s Day. But then I went backpacking through Europe and stayed with a handful of wonderful people—all who smoked cigarettes. And almost overnight cigarette smoke became synonymous with good times and great people. I’ve found that you can change your relationship with just about anything—and anyone—by a simple shift in perspective. I, for one, have always been a sucker for Valentine’s Day. . . .