I am not good at copying. Save the spot-on rendition of Everybody by The Backstreet Boys that my son and I perform in the car, I don’t do impressions. Simon Says was not my game. I either could not remember what Simon said, or forgot to ask. I rarely follow trends for any extended period.…
I cut all my hair off. I don’t mean short, I mean short-short. Tiny bangs, actually no bangs. Everything as short as it can go without the use of the clippers. I can’t do clippers. My face is right there, no sweep of hair to hide my relentless forehead wrinkle, nothing. It’s not like my…
If my boobs were small and I was skinny, I would eat cake every day for breakfast and lunch. Sometimes frosting, sometimes not, but always cake. At night, I would choose between lasagna and pizza. Real lasagna with real cheese or pizza with the perfect amount of crust and a sauce that wasn’t too sweet.…
You are the air I breathe. Romance is often figurative. It’s not the hearty literal verb of living or loving, even. It’s soft and tender. I like words and images, so romance really works on me. I’m a song, story, poem, sweeping anything kind of person. I’m weak knees at a soft whisper. I don’t think that…
Hormones, we need to talk. I understand that I needed you growing up. I appreciate that you helped create the stew that made my children. I’m glad you’ve kept things female and working all of these years, but lately you’ve changed. You’re unstable, I can’t rely on you and you make me cry. I’m done now. This is no longer a…
Women should be more like heirloom tomatoes. I suppose men should too, but they have more flexibility, so I’m not discussing them right now. We have this beautiful heirloom tomato sitting on our counter. It’s bright orange and red swirly. It’s a little misshapen, kind of funky in the front, but really cool to look at.…
This is my mom. Time does things to people. We change as we get older, and yet I think being a mother brings out the very best of who we were when we were little. We want our children to have their dress up times. We want them to sing into the Mr. Microphone and…
I’m a bit bored lately. I shouldn’t be, there is plenty to get done. I’m simply not in the mood to do it. Maybe bored is not the right word, I’m a bit distracted, somewhere else. Stacks and piles, lists and emails, all needing attention, some past due, some embarrassingly late, and yet I sit.…
My mom called me this past Friday and after our usual update and opinion sharing, she said, “Oh before you go, do you think Harper Lee should be publishing another book?” I was a bit taken aback. Why wouldn’t I be excited about the mind that strung together To Kill a Mockingbird releasing another work she wrote…
