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 […]
I had a cough recently. Oh please, tell me more. But you don’t understand. This wasn’t your average joe cough. If coughs were sharks, this was Megalodon. It ignored antibiotics. It scoffed at humidifiers. Cough drops were merely child’s play. But the worst part was the sound, like tuberculosis and long term smoking. It was
Do you know who the best people in the world are? Nuns? Buddhist monks? Trader Joe’s employees? Airbnb hosts. These gracious people rent out their homes to tourists, welcoming us with open arms and bottles of wine. They tell us all the sights we simply must see. During our stay, they promptly respond to any
Some women look wonderful in a white dress. Their skin is flawless, their curves appear in just the right places and everything seems to fit seamlessly into that perfect white package. And then there are the rest of us. For the most part, this doesn’t cause an emotional toll. It’s just hard to be around
Last week, after getting my car detailed, we decided it was time to sell it. And when I say we, I mean my husband. He advertised it on Craigslist, and within minutes, the calls were pouring in. Who knew a banged up Honda Pilot with 175,000 miles would solicit so many admirers. One such admirer
A few months back we decided to sell my 2005 Honda Pilot. It was looking pretty shabby, so my husband hired a guy named John to detail it. Halfway through the detailing, I went outside to give John some water. John turned off his specialized cleaning mechanism (No, it wasn’t a vacuum. I know what
Do you make yourself cringe? Do you have “Ragrets?” Do you often find yourself in humiliating situations brought on by your own ignorance and lack of self-awareness? I found myself in one of these situations just last week at a concert. I was waiting in line for my order at a food truck, two brisket
Have you ever been to a taping of The Price is Right? You show up in some ridiculous costume, jumping and screaming like a lunatic. Pick me, pick me, pick me! They don’t. But the next week, when you arrive at jury duty, dressed in respectable attire, sitting silently, and not even jumping a little,
I won a writing contest last week. It was a 100-word short story for the local paper. The editor, who called to tell me I’d won, interviewed me over the phone, and just as we were finishing, he added, “And we’ll need a picture.” “Of me?” I asked. “Yes.” “How about someone related to me?”
It’s been around a while, but I’ve been too nervous to try it. It’s easy if you’re young or more experienced, but I’m neither of these. Also, I lack the confidence. There was something about that word that paralyzed me. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around those four letters. Then, this past summer, stranded