WashingTina

I t’s the most wonderful time of the year. That’s what they tell us. “They” being advertisers. It’s the Lexus to December to Remember and Toyotathon, when unexpected vehicles show up in snow covered driveways across America with big red bows on Christmas morning. It’s when you “tell her you love her all over again” with a hideous Pandora bracelet or other tacky bauble from Kay Jewelers. They really lay it on thick at Christmastime. And nobody lays it on thicker (or weirder) than the perfumers. In all my 45 years, I have yet to see a perfume commercial that makes sense.  Chanel has Keira Knightly sitting in her ballgown alone in a hotel room playing chess and, presumably heavily doused in Coco Mademoiselle “for the night”. There’s a lot to unpack here . . . does Keira live in a home where chess is forbidden? Is that why she must run away one night to play, alone it seems? And because it’s such a special occasion, she dresses up in her best dress and all the necklaces she owns? It st...

Woof. This year. This whole goddamn year. As it draws to a close, I’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ve been through, all of us. Our collective trauma. And what we’ve lost. It’s been a lot. We’ve lost and grieved A LOT. Seriously, there’s more grief in here than even Elizabeth Kübler-Ross could have imagined. The year started off okay enough for me. I had my blackeyed peas, courtesy of a friend who is a wonderful Southern cook. As he always says, “Imagine how bad the year might’ve been if we didn’t have them,” and I’ve tried to take that to heart. Because, if 2020 is any indication, it seems that things really could always get worse. If I’m being honest, January and February weren’t half bad. We had a great trip to L.A. and San Francisco, which was a lot of fun. And then . . . the wheels fell off in March. And for that I am grieving.  In March, I was on travel for work -- a planning retreat with my department’s leadership team. We looked ahead to expanding our team, broadening ...