Before the holidays, I was a relatively healthy individual. But after a season of decadence, I was 90 percent sugar and alcohol. My bones were toffee, my organs were cookie dough, and Cabernet coursed through my veins. If you’re a cannibal, I’m your gal. On January 3rd, my doughy physique entered the gym. For thirty […]
Last year, I went to a Paint Night at a local brewery. Val, our paint instructor held up a Halloween themed painting. “As you can see,” she said. “We will be painting some Spooktacular pictures.” I studied Val’s picture of pumpkins and ghosts, set against a moonlit sky. Spooktacular! We started with the sky, simple
There are five words that my husband has said to me every day for the last 30 years. “You’re the most beautiful woman.” So close. His five-word phrase is far deeper than superficial compliments. These words embody the depth of my husband’s soul, his core values, and his reason for living. “Have you thought of
Flight 170 from Burbank to Seattle had trouble written all over it. “Folks, it appears there is a significant storm developing,” the ticket agent announced. “We’re going to board immediately, in order to beat the storm. I sure hope we win. As promised, my husband and I were quickly herded onto the plane. The next
I hate my neck. I know people say hate is too strong a word, but as the owner of this neck, I don’t feel hate is strong enough. You may scoff and think, big deal, it’s just a neck. It’s not even a major body part (unless you’re a giraffe). However, you are probably a
Puppies, Pills, and Pretty Necks Read More »
So John came over last weekend. Travolta? No, but that would have been cool. It was John, the car detailer, and star of my story, R-Rated Car. Two years ago, John detailed my 2005 Honda Pilot. The numerous dents, hanging bumper, and make-up covered steering wheel nearly destroyed him. But John was a survivor, and
Last week I went to the pharmacy. A pharmacy story! This should be a wild ride. Kimia, the pharmacist, asked me the standard questions. I gave her my prescription and she began to type. And type. And type some more. I looked around. Five minutes later, Kimia was still pressing keys. Maybe I wasn’t clear.
Last week I did something I’ve never done before. Bungee jump? Swim with sharks? Take shots off a stranger’s body? Not exactly. Though, there was drinking involved. A bottle of Magnesium Citrate, followed by sixty-four ounces of MiraLAX, consumed in 20-minute intervals. We’ll call it Happy Hour. And the fun didn’t stop there. This was
My Above Average Colon Read More »
We found him on the side of a deserted farm road, behind a clump of weeds. To this day, I don’t know who left him or how he got there. It was my oldest daughter who spotted him. “Did you see that?” she asked. I pulled to the side of the road. Barely visible in
Have You Seen My Ball? Read More »
I don’t really care for those people. This woman is a racist. Let me clarify, when I talk about those people, I’m referring to bikers. Not the ones on Hogs, they’re cool. The ones on bicycles. But my daughter rides a bike, up and down our driveway, pedaling her precious little legs. Simmer down, your