Dear Boobs – This morning’s conversation as we stood in the bathroom mirror was probably the first time we’ve shared more than a passing glance since it became clear we are no longer on the same page. It was tense. I stared at you and tried to imagine my body when you are gone. I’ll…
I bought my children new shoes for the first day of school and when they returned after winter break. Twice a year. Every year. In the budget or beyond the budget, they had new gleaming white tennis shoes as they marched into class for a new and improved quarter, semester, year. There were years Michael…
Broken girls become warriors. That was the quote on Pinterest. I’ve seen it before. I don’t know who wrote it. I’m sure several incarnations have been written dozens of times but reading it this morning set me off. Why the hell do we keep doing this? It seems the space between complicated issue and bumper…
Helen, Gertrude, Millie, and Alice. Those are good names. They smoke, no filter, and smush out their charred nubs in a beanbag ashtray before reaching for another Entenmann’s cookie. They are all in housedresses, and they get their hair done at the same beauty parlor. I picture the remaining eggs in my body as these…
It is difficult to find juicy limes. They’re not like lemons, or maybe they are, but it seems like anytime I buy a lime it is dry. They look decent and green on the outside, but inside limes don’t flow. Lemons, on the other hand, are always brimming with juice. In fact, I can not…
The goal was to write a blog post once a week and I failed. No lives were taken, no money lost. Just a mental game I played with myself that didn’t work out. Oh well, there’s always next week to get it right. My daughter turns twenty-four on Saturday. She’s at that age where…
Apparently traditional tampons contain chemicals. Sorry male readers, you might want to skip this post or use it as an opportunity to get over the whole, “eww tampons” business. I’m sure the females in your life will appreciate the effort. Back on topic, tampons, as in the materials that make up the things, have chemicals…
My efforts to simplify my life have somehow touched a nerve. As I continue to reduce my “stuff” and practice conscious consumerism, I’m faced with the fact that I may be buying things in response to issues that have nothing to do with always having an extra mascara or stocking up on black socks…
When I was young, my mom and I moved to New York to take care of my Nannie who had breast cancer. My Nan fought like hell, and we spent a good bit of time in Bronxville. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment, which was part of a big yellow house that had four or…
