Last month while waiting in the exam room at my doctor's office, I bided my time with a woman's magazine from their limited (and elderly) selection of reading material. I'd forgotten my own book, some asshole already circled every item on the Hidden ...

It wasn't meant to be an entire year. Or even a good one. Still the same, it was. The position would be based in upper state New York, which would mean we'd only see each other on weekends... but we'd done this before and knew it would work. So ...

The other day while out for drinks, I was telling my chum Claire about all the fun I had in my recent travels to the Jersey shore. She asked if I took pics, and I pointed to my iPod on the table as I got up to pee. When I returned from the Ladies ...

I've had several nights in my life (alright, maybe only about three) where I've been jolted from the deepest of sleeps by an idea of such magnitude and brilliance, it's awed me. The solution to a problem, the answer to a nagging question, the ...

You may not know this about me, but I suffer from pomfretphobia. In layman's terms, I have a fear of monkeys. I've suffered this phobia since childhood, and it's likely rooted in The Wizard of Oz since, even in my adult years, I fast-forward ...

One year to the date, we sit in a restaurant, celebrating. Paying homage to the very day, exactly 365 prior to this one, when her mammogram revealed the cancer in her left breast. I’d brought balloons tonight, bearing messages appropriate to the ...

I have long maintained that the level of my creativity is directly proportional to the number of cocktails I consume. Not that I intentionally drink to think (hey, that saying would make a great bumper sticker...), but my aptitude for solving a ...

I had the telly tuned in to Guy Fierri’s Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives last night for some background noise while finishing up a deadline, when my ears caught hold of a recipe from a joint he was visiting called Funk-N-Waffles. I looked up to see ...

Umberto Eco once wrote, 'we like to make lists because we don't want to die.' I don't really know who Umberto Eco is, but I do believe he's right. I love making lists. And like scores of other folks, I maintain several of them. A HOUSE list, a WORK ...

Last week, my husband did something so unthinkable, so mind-boggling, so utterly shocking and so unlike him that, initially, I wondered if it was one of those end-of-world signs like locusts and famines and dogs doing the naughty thing with cats: he ...