All I Want for Christmas

. . . is an 18K diamond-encrusted Jesus pendant worth $23,000.


Wouldn't it look amazing with a nice t-shirt and pair of jeans?

The State of North Carolina is auctioning off the loot they seized in drug deals.

Among my favorites are this oh-so-subtle timepiece . . .

. . . and a gold gorilla pendant with diamond eyes.

I consider this concrete proof that drug dealers are scumbags, awash in ill-gotten gains.

And that they have very, very bad taste.

Still Chris' Sister

Since I'm the oldest of five, I got to do everything first. Learn to walk. Lose my baby teeth. Go on sleepovers. Start school. Leave home.

But my brother was close on my heels in 13 months, and and I don't think it suited him to be "Julie's brother" everywhere he went. So he changed it.

I had exactly one year of first-child stardom in school before my little brother came along and turned me into "Chris' sister."

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" the girls would say, immediately eager for friendship so they could come over after school and get a close-up look at my handsome tow-headed sibling.

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" the teachers would say, wondering if I could sing and dance as well as my brother, who had been selected for the district's traveling talent show with his plucky rendition of Oklahama! songs.

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" the good-looking guys at the night club would say, hoping a date with me would land them a spot in my brother's band.

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" the folks at church would say, starting into a long list of wonderful things my brother had done, including sing like an angel in church service and later serve an impressive mission.

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" the neighbors would say, doubting - and rightly so - that I could mow a lawn as well as him.

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" the kids on the block would say, wondering why I wasn't out building the coolest fort they'd ever seen out of trash scavenged from the dumpster across the street.

"Oh, you're Chris' sister!" everyone still says, envious of his beautiful, smart and independent wife and young daughters.

"Yep," I say. "And proud of it."

Happy Birthday Brother.

Ablaze in Color

I'm a dangerously distracted driver as it is. . . this riotous fall color lining the freeway might be cause to revoke my license.


If it's any consolation, I snapped these photos without taking my eyes off the road. . . much.

To the Littlest of the Little Girls

Growing up, my three youngest sisters were known as "the little girls." As in "Go get the little girls, it's time for dinner." Or "Watch the little girls while I run to the store for some milk."

They weren't much littler than me and only a few years younger. But they remained "the little girls" until they hit high school. And just this summer, the pet name nearly slipped from my lips at a family reunion.

The littlest of my sisters is 27 today. But all of her life, I've known that her heart was much, much bigger than mine.

To my knowledge, she's the only one of my siblings to have sat at the bedside of a dying friend and then come home quietly to tell my parents said friend had "gone home."

She befriended countless elderly neighbors with sincerity that had nothing to do with the treats they fed her or the freedom to watch TV in the afternoon. She loved their company and they hers.

When the dreadful little neighbor girl would say mean things and refuse to share her toys, my sister would come home crying, but be back at the neighbor's house an hour later, all forgiven and forgot.

Such guileless grace must be inborn. The proof lies in the same quick-to-love, quick-to-forgive, quick-to-make-you-feel-like-you-are-the-center-of-the-universe, nature of her son. She's passed on to him her greatest attribute.

And as her sister, I'm still hoping someday a shred of it will rub off on me, too.

Happy Birthday Laura. I love you.

New Beginnings

Yesterday my cousin gave birth to a baby boy.


And America took a chance on something new.


I love turning a new page. It's frightening and invigorating and makes me feel like the horizon is wide open.

Are you serious?!

Another cold.


And just in time for a really big week at work. Life's not fair.

Flying the Friendly Skies

Ladies and gentlemen. . .



Please remain seated with your seat belt securely fastened until the captain has turned off the "Fasten Seat belts" sign.