Earlier this year, I got a wallop of freedom I wasn’t looking for when my husband of 13 years decided he wanted to split up. I haven’t blogged much about it, mostly because I write romantic comedy and…uh, well, divorce isn’t very romantic or funny. But I’ve been muscling through like always, and am actually doing great now. One advantage of my new freedom is that I’ve acquired a surprising…
So I forget how long ago it was that I discovered the Jungian Typology test (sometimes called the “Myers-Briggs Typology” test). In a nutshell, possibly even a wrong one, because it’s lifted out of my brain, it’s a test based on Jungian theories that divide personalities into one of sixteen types based on the balance of four sets of traits: Introversion vs. Extroversion Sensing vs. Intuition Feeling vs. Thinking Perceiving…
My kids hate to listen to the radio with me. Okay, they’re adolescents and they hate to do just about anything with me, but the radio brings special angst. That’s because practically every song is either about love or about sex, unless it’s a song that’s ostensibly about love but really it’s about sex (which is not the same as love, but who can blame kids for confusing the two…
I always wanted to be a June bride. I don’t know why. Maybe it was the song from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers… maybe it was an incredibly fun family wedding one June that struck me as simply perfect. Maybe it’s society’s fault. But regardless of the reason, when I started thinking about marrying my husband (before he was in on the plans, actually), I wanted a June wedding. I…
I was obsessed with love from an early age. I had my first little boyfriend when I was four and once I started school I fell prey to a series of crushes resulting in endless foolish behavior. These poor grade-school boys only wanted to be left alone to play kick-ball and were alternately confused and terrified by my invitations to “dinner-and-a-movie,” the perfumed love notes delivered on foot to their…
I’d say my first true love was my Raggedy Ann doll. In retrospect, the nice thing about falling in love with an inanimate object is that it can’t break your heart. Which is a really good thing, because just about every other true love I can think of in my life involved serious soul-sucking heartbreak, which I really don’t care for. So loving a doll is simply so much easier….
It’s 2 a.m. (still that first night at Bootcamp) and we’ve been holding side angle bind (this is basically a lunge and a twist with one arm rotated around your waist and the other under your lunged thigh, both clasped together at the small your back) for so long that I desperately want to let go but there is this subtle pressure to do whatever Baron says, “push past the…
I had my yearly pap exam this week. Although far from one of my favorite activities, I quite like my doctor. I’ve gone to Doctor L. for six or seven years now. She is this tiny energetic woman, under five feet, so it is a bit like being examined by a wayward Keebler elf. This may sound disturbing, but for some reason it is oddly comforting for me. I am…
When I first moved to New York City, the noises overwhelmed me, the constant clatter of voices and horns and sirens and engines and high heels and exclamations. I’d grown up in the suburbs with the sound of cicadas and thunderstorms and the Frigidaire humming and doors slamming when my parents fought. But the New York City air was thick with steaming hot dogs and roasting chestnuts and exhaust and…
When I was in high school I chased a boy who chased a girl out to Colorado. He was tall and firm and thickly built with shoulder length wavy hair and he always carried around a copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions and he smoked pot and he played football and he graduated and moved out to Colorado to be a cowboy. We’d “gone out” a few times and…
