posts

The Secret to a Great Hug

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It’s fun­da­men­tal, instinc­tive and, when done prop­erly, it feels really good. Call it a hug, an embrace, squeeze or just pull the other per­son in close, but what’s hap­pen­ing is sim­ple in mean­ing and com­plex in style. It’s pos­si­ble to do it poorly, but no one deserves that. Read more…

 

Hardwood, Hardwork

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I bought a house.  It had white car­pet (except for the stains), white walls, white ceil­ings — a blank canvas.

I set about to change that. I bit off more than I could chew. I thought about giv­ing up.

I’m glad I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I loved the process.

Read more…

 

My Magical, Evil Pockets

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I don’t know how I get so lucky, but every pair of pants I own, EVERY SINGLE PAIR, is magical.

Yes. Mag­i­cal.

I know what you must be think­ing, but I assure you, it’s not related to how good my tuckus looks. (But thank you) Read more…

 

New Year’s Eve-Olution

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More than two decades of New Year’s Eves — span­ning shenani­gans and et cetera — and I can’t really remem­ber any one in par­tic­u­lar. I bore wit­ness to the new mil­len­nium, except I can’t quite say where or what I saw. The most recent are more dis­cernible, but even those details are a bit foggy. Not likely from age and only partly due to ine­bri­a­tion; for all the plan­ning, the dry-cleaning, the buildup and the count­down, res­o­lu­tions and 12 o’clock kisses shared and missed, it would seem that if each new year were a race, we make a point to daw­dle and linger at the start.

What did you do in 2007? In 2008? 1996? Read more…

 

That Social Stranger

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Aside from the ride on my ego that is kelseyschnell.com, and in light of the fact that I spent a cool three months with­out access to the Inter­net, you should feel free to fol­low the ongo­ing events on Twit­ter and Face­book.

Read more…

 

Motor City to Motor-Less City: I Moved to Mackinac Island

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After work­ing and liv­ing in Metro Detroit for just under a year-and-a-half, I’ve recently moved five hours, or 280-some miles, north — to Mack­inac Island.

For those of you who aren’t aware, Mack­inac Island is an island just under four-square-miles in Lake Huron. It was the U.S.A’s sec­ond National Park (Yel­low­stone was the first), it pro­duces fudge as often as many of us breath in and out in a day and it is replete with horses and bicy­cles… because on Mack­inac Island there are no cars.

Read more…

 

The Other Drivers Are a Bunch of Clowns

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The amount of time I spend dri­ving is sel­dom spent think­ing about dri­ving. That’s not to say I’m not pay­ing atten­tion. Dri­ving just cre­ates so many dis­tract­ing sit­u­a­tions. Read more…

 

Honor Thy Father

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The annual June week­end ded­i­cated to Fathers is great. Dad appre­ci­ates the neck­tie, weed whacker and funny card with a mon­key on it look­ing for the remote control.

But what Dad really likes is hang­ing out with you. Read more…

 
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