Two years ago, we moved to Lodi, NJ to be right along the bus route 163, straight into New York City. Being a Nebraska girl and Texas boy, we overcame the culture shock of living in the country's most densely populated area. We learned to live in a pre-war building without a washer/dryer, air conditioning, or drinkable tap water. I learned how to light the pilot light in the oven without blowing myself up. And after many parking tickets, we finally figured out what alternate side parking means, and all the necessary permits and stickers needed to park on the street outside our apartment.  For the last time, Joy and I will run our normal route by the Shoprite. We'll pass the VFW and the man sitting outside on the porch watching the traffic go by. We'll jog up the hill and past the Visenti Brothers Italian Grocery Store which tells me we just have a few more blocks to go before we're home. We'll stay in New Jersey of course, and we'll still be near the city. Bu

One of my favorite movies to watch around this time of year is Irvin Berlin's  Holiday Inn . One song in particular is great today because Thanksgiving music is so hard to come by! If you haven't seen the movie, I insist you watch it with a cup of hot chocolate immediately! Here is my take on the catchy tune, and below is Bing's version.  Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! I've got plenty to be thankful for I haven't got a great big yacht To sail from shore to shore Still I've got plenty to be thankful for I've got plenty to be thankful for No private car, no caviar No carpet on my floor Still I've got plenty to be thankful for I've got eyes to see with Ears to hear with Arms to hug with Lips to kiss with Someone to adore How could anybody ask for more? My needs are small, I buy them all At the five and ten cent store Oh, I've got plenty to be thankful for

We all move at our own pace. Some gradual and steady... Others more quickly.  There are times when we bring out the beauty in others. And times when we stand out all on our own. And though sometimes we may feel like we don't fit in, Or look like everyone else, There is something that brings us all together if we focus on what's important.

I'd let my morning run slip by for far too long. But today, my running shoes were giving me the evil eye. And so was Joy, my running buddy. The sun was out, the weather was perfect, what excuse did I have to let another day go by? Only a few minutes into my run though, I felt those missed opportunities catching up to me, taunting me as I struggled up a hill. "I'm just gonna have to face it," I thought, "This is gonna be a slow run." It was just then that I heard applause. The 4 sharp claps cut through the music that was blaring into my ears through my headphones. Puzzled, I glanced to my right. An older gentleman, the owner of a local bakery, was standing on the sidewalk outside his shop, apron and all. When we made eye contact, he gave me a thumbs up and a great big smile. I returned his smile and picked up the pace a little. And I held my faster pace all the way home. I didn't want him to catch me slowing down. Bet he didn't think that small act

I play for 8 ballet classes a week, 4 pointe classes, 1 variation, and 1 character class. It's a proud and content feeling I have to be in the position of doing what I love professionally, and one I hope to never take for granted and always strive to become better. At one time, it was just a daydream that I could be paid to play piano, or to record an original album of my very own with a New York City recording label. And yet somehow, it's become a dream come true, and new dreams for the future are ever forming in my head.  During a ballet class, while watching young, aspiring ballerinas perfect their technique, I heard the teacher describe the Arabesque position. It is one of the most beautiful, graceful, and difficult poses in ballet in which the dancer's arm creates a long, lean line in front of their body. The fingers must be just the right amount of relaxed, yet shaped with precision. The leg needs to stretch. The foot must not be sickled. The toes fiercely pointed.