Maryann Austin

Something that not many people know about me is that I have dealt with anxiety and panic.  I have been told that it is unusual for panic to surface so late in life, but I experienced my first panic issue in my early forties.  I knew immediately what it was, and I sought the help of a doctor.  I also devoured a number of books and listened to relaxation tapes.  I practiced breathing exercises.  I took the initiative and brought the situation under my control.  I took pride in the fact that the doc prescribed Xanax, and I only ever took it two or three times--and that was half a pill.  I hated the feeling it gave me, kind of like being a zombie. There is a misnomer about such attacks.  Perhaps panic is not the best description of what actually occurs. I saw a reporter on the TV a few nights ago.  They showed a clip of him in the midst of a panic attack while reporting live.  He looked down and appeared confused.  He stumbled over...

I envision the day when there will be another memorial in Washington, DC.  It will be a memorial to the countless lives of innocent Americans: the most innocent of the innocents.  Not young men who fought in Vietnam.  Not those who died on 9/11.  But the millions of infants whose lives were taken as they rested in the safety (?) of their own mothers’ wombs.

http://www.irenasendler.org/

Check out this book on Goodreads: Balancing It All: My Story of Juggling Priorities and Purpose http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18113513-balancing-it-all

http://www.abbacare.org/

Some twenty miles or so outside of Saratoga Springs, NY is a place/body of water known as Lake Desolation.  It was back in the mid-eighties that I lived in the nearby town of Greenfield Center.  My mom and brother had a campground there.  And at seventeen I was rudely whisked away from my home in suburbia to live in this lonely place just south of the snow belt.  A place where snow flies each and every horrible day of the winter--and into the spring.   It was at that campground that I met Bridget.  She was the eldest daughter of a couple who camped there for a summer or two.  She was a true rebel: sneaky and holding many secrets from her parents.  I was a shy geek, albeit a pretty one.  So, in spite of my geekiness, I found myself pulled into the misadventures of many a bad girl in my youth. And Bridget was one of them. In some late seventies car, we drove in the dark, past Roeckles (rhymes with locals) General Store and toward the lit...

     Ok.  The first thing I want to do is apologize for calling some kid a geek.  I don't know him, and he sounds like he's really a pretty nice kid.  But Geek Gets Date seemed more engaging than Nice Lonely Boy Gets Date.   Let's just say, he's not part of the popular crowd.      Last night, my son Christopher shared this story that made me smile.  A boy in his high school walked around all day yesterday carrying a large sign that read Need Date.   My son and this boy are in the same class at the end of the day, and so my son had the good fortune of witnessing the result of the young man's public request.  In front of everyone, a pretty girl approached him and said that she would like to go out with him.  My son says that the boy's chin almost hit the floor.        Moral of the story: Ask and you just might receive!