Shit Happens, or Why I Love Derby Lite

As someone who’s spent the better part of a decade trying to reconcile herself to a chronic disease, I know all too well you can be miserable, or you can accept, adapt, and move on.  Shit happens. Whether good or bad, it’s life. And life is what you make it.

Four years ago I told the world: I want to be a roller girl. I declared my intent, as well as my fear, and I owned it. Although some initially scoffed, most readers said GO FOR IT!  Last fall, I finally strapped 8 wheels to my feet and rolled out of my comfort zone.

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Magazine rant.

I have a love/hate relationship with magazines.  On the pro side, they’re a mindless way to pass the time, and the very best can indeed captivate as great literature.  They’re a (fairly) cheap way of indulging oneself.  They’re often chock full of helpful information, practical advice and useful tips.  And as someone who writes a food blog (that OTHER Daily Dish), they’re a treasure trove of recipes.

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