A Very Lucky Girl

My time at Sandy Beaches is almost up and it has certainly been an adventure!  Take yesterday for instance.  A customer, I'll call her K, came into the store in tears. I had met her only once before, but I immediately leapt up from my seat, and came around the counter to hug her.  I'm no stranger to tears. And hugs usually don't hurt.  She confided in me that she had found out sad news about many of her friends recently. Her husband is also seriously ill and she feels like everyone around her is dying. She is also seriously worried about her son.  I listened as best I could as other customers came in and out of the store to tan. I had nothing profound to say. I cannot understand her struggle, but I can imagine.  I finally set her up in her tanning bed and on her way out she stopped again to talk to me.  She told me I was a blessing to her. She told me she sees caring and love in my eyes, to the point where my eyelids are white (what?). She told ...

I love so very many things about traveling. I love every kind. The kind where you walk somewhere. The kind where you drive to a new state. And especially the kind where you get your wings and fly across state lines.  Airports seem to disintegrate social divides, even with notions of first class and coach. Everyone is on an equal playing field, dependent on the airlines for a schedule. Real life is suspended in an airport terminal. When I flew to Baton Rouge to visit Mimi and Didi, I met the nicest characters on my return flights. One rather large man had the unfortunate privilege of sitting next to me in a middle seat. He wedged himself into the space and I graciously offered him the armrest, but stubbornly held on to my window seat winnings. He made small talk, offering that he was traveling back from a Bachelor party in New Orleans with a large group and had once upon a time wanted to major in English Literature. After take off, I inserted headphones and lost myself in round af...

Paul and Shari need their own show. With special guest appearance by yours truly, because I definitely add a little bit of technicolor to their exchanges. We never see Oakes so he’s not really necessary to production. Shari has said to me before that she lives in constant dire fear of what I will tweet, Facebook, or blog about next. She will say something funny or blonde and I will just happen to be typing on my phone, and the next instant she’ll shriek and exclaim, “DON’T tweet that!” Sorry Mom, it comes with the territory. For instance: I went to eat with them at Slim Chickens this past weekend. I think it was karmic retribution for making Megan be a third wheel a few weekends ago because I was president of third wheeldom on Friday night. Dinner conversation somehow meandered to my age. Dad: I wish you were 21. Taylor: Me and you both. But why do you wish this? Dad: you could come to the bar with me tomorrow night and watch this show blahblahblahblahmojomen?bl...

I'm not into shallow relationships. I've always been the kind of girl that has two or three close friends at a time. It's exclusive, there are tryouts and everything for this valued position!  I can count on one hand, mayyyybe two, the people that are always there for me. And the people I wouldn't hesitate to help with anything. For this reason I have the hardest time talking to strangers. (Which, in retrospect, was an excellent thing when I was younger. I was never in danger of getting lured by candy to the sketchy van.) But now, I'm going to have to talk to strangers for the rest of my life in order for them to stop being strangers. I envy people that can comfortably waltz up to someone they have never talked to in their life and have an enjoyable conversation. I usually stand by awkwardly in awe, watching these social butterflies work their magic, wondering when I'll emerge from that socially awkward cocoon. (did I stretch that metaphor too far? Long ha...