My godfather, Elwood Randol, was a raconteur. Erudite and possessed of a playfully sardonic spirit.
As a child, I was an inveterate questioner, oft, doubtless annoyingly to others, about the obvious. 245 more words
Because it involves backing up your words with actions.
As if South America is a model for anything when history is the biggest honour culture sample of all. 392 more words
While rehearsing for my upcoming contract as a cruise ship dancer last Friday, I dislocated my shoulder. Yesterday I found out I need to have surgery, which means that I will spend the next four to six months in recovery, unable to pursue my career as a performer in musical theatre. 495 more words