A page from Gina's life - before it came apart.

Waiting to be someone else.

There were nine women working in the office I was about to join as the newest employee; nine ordinary, everyday women. All, that is, except for one. There's always one. She was a little younger than I, a little blonder, a little thinner and I became obsessed with her.

She was very friendly, thank God, because I wanted to learn everything I could from her. For instance, how did she get so smart? How does she stay so slim? She's mentioned her hair colorist but how is it that her hair color looks so natural? I was sure it was. Her look appeared effortless and I couldn't wait to become her, as if the me I was wasn't good enough.

This situation forced me to be at my very best, every day. I scoured the beauty and fashion magazines, bought new clothes and shoes and even began to eat the foods she ate. But I never quite measured up. Each day she would come in looking even more fabulous than she had the day before. I wanted to be her. I needed to be her. I would be her.

And then I met David.

Suddenly, all was right with the world and I didn't need to be anyone but me. I will always strive to better myself and reach for my dreams, and I'm so happy that while I was waiting to become someone else, I learned the me I am is a-okay.

~ Gina

...you say you have no friends?

I've not had many. There were times it made me sad, times I didn't care and finally, the time I realized I would never have two better friends than my daughter Lisa and my sister, Shirley.

Lisa and I have always been a close mother/daughter - but it wasn't until I began running, after years of smoking cigarettes and fighting the battle-of-the-bulge - that we became close women. When I thought I was all alone at my first 5K race, there she was, smiling and rooting for me. She had a lump in her throat as I crossed the finish line and thought to herself, Hey, that's MY mom. I should be out there with her. She began running then, and we ran many road races together after that. I no longer run, but she's runs marathons with her husband, Scott. Together they are unstoppable! She has always been there for me, no matter what, even when others may have written me off, she was there with her unwavering love and great big smile. My Lisa.

My sister Shirley is quirky, funny, and very special to me. She lives in Mystic, CT but that doesn't stop us from getting together whenever we feel like it. What's a two-hour drive? If one of us is in a funk, the other makes the trip. We shop, eat, and spend hours in the book store. We tell each other everything and know it won't be repeated. What friend can keep a secret, huh? She has such a flair for decorating, you just want to curl up in her little house and never leave. In fact, I feel like going there, right now!

Oh yeah, they are my two best friends in the world. Who could ask for more?

'till next time,

~ Dianne

The Look

"Hey, Mom, You've got the look."That's what my daughter Lisa says to me when I look extra nice. She knows what the look is and what it means to me. My friend Cyndi knows, too, and will sometimes say, "You've got the look, my girl."

The look is a shower-fresh, neatly coiffed, magazine-perfect look that I strive for just about every single day of my life. I try and try, but never quite achieve it. That's because it doesn't exist. The look is only a moment in time. Real beauty lies in the way we live our lives...and lasts until the day we die.

~ latah

...and the dancing goes on.

Will this rain never stop?! Yikes, I can't take it. So, what do you do when you can't get out? I dance! Today I turned on the Solid Gold Hits of the 50's and with my imaginary partner I jitterbugged and of course, did the cha cha to the old Roy Orbison tunes. I felt great, and I got my exercise!

One more revision on A Necessary Romance and it's off to the magazine! eek...
After this, it's back to Gina. When I'm not working on her story I really miss her. I'm always wondering what she might think, about whatever it is I'm doing.

My latest mosaic is Dancing Ladies, so, when I was finished dancing I went into my studio to work on my ladies. They'll be dancing across the beams on the ceiling of my studio. I love them.

I was going to use some old china for their dresses and skirts but I really want all the pieces to be the same thickness throughout, so I decided to paint some of the tiles with different patterns and colors. So far, so good.

My wrist is coming along. It still hurts to write or type, so I only do a little at a time. I'll probably be out of work for about six more weeks. Plenty of time to catch up on my reading.

Well, I've typed enough, where's the Ibuprofen?

Dance 'till you're giddy!

What feels better than finishing a piece of writing that you've been agonizing over(After ice cream, of course)? Dancing. Any kind of dancing. Ballet, belly, hip-hop or just plain jumping around. Dancing is so liberating. Just throwing my arms out and twirling around acting goofy is enough to do the trick. Of course, your feet must be bare! You must be in a position t feel the energy coming up through your feet and slowly floating up, through your body. There is really nothing quite like it. But, wait until you put on the costume. Wowza! The silky feel against your body, the weight of the skirt as it twirls around your ankles and the shimmer of crystals and sequins. What was it Virginia Woolf said about a woman having a room of one's own? Yes, you can dance in it, too.

~ 'till next time ~ Dianne

Freed by the blouse!

Liberation came for me in the guise of a roomy, cream colored blouse with buttons made of a rich, honey-colored teak in varying sizes and shapes. It was an over-the-hips blouse with two-inch slits up the sides which allowed free movement across an ample backside. This blouse covered a multitude of sins and I was in my glory. Who would have thought that the big clothes I wore to hide in would one day be in style?

That was when I was a size 4.

Sick? Definitely. Cured? Oh yeah. Let me tell you, I have a million tricks on how to cover up.
That was then. I was trying to live up to someone else's idea of what "good" looked like. Who made up the rules, anyway? Thank God I came to my senses.

Actually, I got tired of waiting to live until I was thin, quite a concept, huh?

So, to anyone trying to live up to the image, don't bother because once you get there you'll realize it wasn't your body you didn't like...

Love yourself, you won't regret it.

Latah ~ Dianne

From these roots...

When I was a young girl my mother filled my life with books. I can't remember the name of my first set, but the stories taught me many of life's most important lessons; such as, the impact a smile can have on a lonely person and how not to"judge a book by its cover." When I got a little older, twelve, perhaps, she introduced me to the Trixie Belden series. I was hooked. I've started my collection again, and it's fun to re-read those great mysteries. I think I identified with Trixie because we were the same age, and we both had short, curly blond hair. I liked to think we were exactly alike! And so, another blond, curly haired 12 year old detective was born.

Once I had read and re-read my books, however, I needed more so I begged my mother to let me read her True Detective magazines. She relented. I couldn't get enough.

I began writing as a way to document my life, to see how far I've come, how much I've grown. Once I began writing stories it seemed someone always got killed. Hmm... my sister always told me I was harboring too much anger. What a great way to get it all out.

I'm learning every day, and loving every minute of it.

Latah ~ Dianne