Jeff and I have been talking a lot lately about what “makes us tick” or, more eloquently put, what makes our heart feel alive. I think society encourages us from an early age to be sensible and doing the things that make your heart feel alive don’t always sound sensible.  Get on the honor roll.  Your SAT score will dictate how successful you’ll be in life.  Go to college.  Get a job with a retirement plan.  Settle down and fall in line.  I wonder how many people are living a “plan B life” because they were told to be sensible? Now, I’m not talking about throwing caution to the wind, shirking responsibility or just doing whatever you want at all cost, no matter who it hurts.  I’m not talking about selfishly pursuing whatever makes you happy.  I’m also not talking about what moves you emotionally or the depth of love you feel for

I remember it vividly.  Like it was yesterday.  I was a teenager with my own checking account, which was awesome.  What wasn’t awesome is that my dad had to drive me to the bank, because I had overdrawn the account.  Like, a lot.  He sent me to the desk by myself to tell the manager that I hadn’t reconciled my account, I spent more money than I had, I was irresponsible and it wouldn’t happen again.  Talk about a humiliating, but valuable life lesson. I became very good at reconciling my accounts and paying all of my bills after that ordeal and I carried that mindset (or habit, maybe) into adulthood. While I’ve always been good at keeping track of my money, I’ve never been good at budgeting it.  I would try, but it always seemed tedious, cumbersome and unrealistic.  We would be going along fine and then something would

If you read my bio or have been hanging around my blog for a while, you know that I have a degree in musical theatre.  I’ve shared before about my dream to be on Broadway and how I’ve kept my dance shoes, scripts and music repertoire binder long after they’ve been useful to me in everyday life.  It’s a big part of who I was and who I am. It all started when I was about three or four.  My mom took me to see a local production of Annie.  I was spellbound.  Little girls were singing and dancing and “pretending” on stage!  And a lot of people were watching, laughing, clapping and cheering for them.  I felt the urge to hop up there and join in! As we walked down the aisle towards the exit, I grabbed my mom’s hand and told her, “I want to be Annie when I grow