Author: Abby

Independence. Scary? A little. Exhilarating? Very. It can come in all shapes and forms and with a vast array of opportunities. A 12 year old girl walks to school by herself- Independence. A 16 year old boy starts his very...

In the words of the great poet…. Lil Wayne… I got money on my mind. But no, Lil Scrappy I don't got money in the bank and Shawty I really don't care what you drank. And sorry Jay Z but you won't catch me In the Ferrari or Jaguar switching four lanes with the top down screamin out money ain't a thang… Cause money IS a thing … a BIG thing.
So It's no secret that I love, love, LOVE to shop. Clothes, hats, jewelry, scarves, bags, belts, pillows, lamps, rugs, bedding, prints, you name it! But I do the majority of my shopping online- why? I HATE changing rooms.

The walnut double doors opened with a friendly squeal. The sweet smell of pencil shavings mixed with paint chemicals greeted me as I bounded into the art room, a magical place of creativity and creation. I breathed in a sigh...

From the moment that we are born, our parents, teachers, babysitters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, all encouraged us to play games. “There’s nothin’ better than a good ol’ game of Chutes and Ladders to cure a rainy day,” Pops would always say, slouched in his brown leather recliner while nursing a steaming cup of peppermint tea. “Why don’t you girls run along and play with your Barbies while mommy and I have a grown up talk,” Bubbie would often persuade as she stooped over the stove preparing Passover dinner.

"We are not a bunch of idiots. If we didn't get something out of the eating disorder- we wouldn't stay with it." Tennie McCarty, author of Shades of Hope, hit the target dead on when she appeared on Dr. Oz....

The first thing you must know about me is that I have never had a “normal” relationship with my siblings. There are three of us: 21, 18, and 15. I am the 18 year old, the dreaded middle child. Our childhood...

It’s 2 AM on a school night am I’m wide awake. No it’s not because I pulled an all-nighter for the History test tomorrow; not because I’m finishing my AP Psychology notes due later that day. No. I woke up this morning for the wailing two month old baby in my room. 11 months ago my life was more than normal.
Sex and high school go hand in hand. You're either thinking about it, having it, not having it, or talking about it. It really can, well for lack of a better word, screw you… pun intended. At this age, with your hormones raging out of control and realizing that the boys in your class have never looked so good, it's really hard to think about anything else. I'm not saying that all teens are crazy horn-balls- despite what my parents believe. There just seems to be an unspoken (or even sometimes spoken) law that everything must be about sex...
I am the queen of procrastination. I’m sure you hear that a lot, but I don’t think that you really understand. I’m bad. I’m extremely bad.
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