Editor’s note: I had my daughter read this before posting, and her response was, “Meh, whatever.” I take that as permission to heartlessly exploit her.
My daughter is staying with me while she’s looking for a new job – one that pays well enough so she doesn’t have to live in a tent with a steady diet of road kill and pop tarts (strawberry – unfrosted). She doesn’t have enough money to go out and party, so this means we’re together A LOT! Desperate for a pastime that doesn’t include helping her mother fold laundry, clip coupons, or pluck nose hairs, she finally considered social networking. Continue reading
I’ve never been on the cutting edge of fashion. My normal winter attire consists of jeans, sweatshirts, rag socks, and a truly hideous fuzzy bathrobe. After menopause, my weight shot up 20 pounds, and I did what most women do: I kept a crowbar in the closet to pry myself into my jeans for as long as I could before giving up and buying a larger size.
Photo courtesy of Wikipedia
I freely admit to sporting camel toes and muffin tops in the meantime. I’m not proud of it. Recently I’ve managed to lose five pounds, which equates to one bag of flour and a little shame. My jeans no longer feel like instruments of torture. (I’d sing like a canary if anyone so much as threatened me with the rack, scraping their fingernails on a blackboard, or liver and onions.)
My daughter told me about a friend who had to explain to her 80 year-old mother what camel toes are. I can only imagine the conversation.
I’m celebrating the release of my new humor book, I Never Drove a Bulldozer. But ever moving on to the next project, I thought I’d share an excerpt from my work in progress, the next in the series of Maggie Gorski mysteries. There’s no keeping a good woman down, or Maggie either.
“Touché,” Maggie cried as she raised her foil into a jaunty salute, then dropped into her stance.
“I believe you mean En Garde.” Cher said.
“I knew that.” Maggie hopped forward as she swung her sword wildly from side to side. Continue reading
“Thanks for coming out to dinner and listening to me kvetch.” Normally, I can take little annoyances in stride, but yesterday felt like one big marathon of stepping in dog poop. It was all the little things that had me wanting to just squirt lemon juice in my eyes and be done with it. Continue reading
This is the time of year when non-Philistines try to give up something for Lent. Ok, compared to Ramadan (a month of fasting every day), giving up chocolate or coffee or flossing your teeth for 40 days is for wussies. Just the same, I’d like some kind of reward for my self-deprivation. Continue reading
Welcome to the I <3 Books Blog Hop! This is my first time participating in a blog hop, so we’ll muddle through it together, have some fun along the way, meet some new authors, and maybe win some prizes. (Please let there be a pony). For those of you unfamiliar with my blog, I write about the trials and absurdities of getting older, one of which is love. Pop a few Valentine chocolates, pull up a rocking chair, and enjoy this excerpt from my upcoming humor book, I Never Drove a Bulldozer / There’s a Hole in my Bucket List. Continue reading
I first met Cheri Thacker through her hilariously funny blog, Crumbsnatcher Tales, where she assumed that I was a creepy stalker spammer. She got two out of three right. I’m thrilled that she agreed to share a post on my site … and drop the restraining order. Please join me in welcoming Cheri.
As the countdown began for Sunday night’s Commercial Bowl, millions of New Year Resolutions perished with the opening kickoff. The hang-over induced diets that began on January 1st came to a screeching halt when the pig-skinned footballs flew during Super Bowl XLVII. Continue reading
Space abhors a vacuum. I’m on a campaign to keep a more positive outlook. That leaves me with a challenge. When I look at the harsh realities of life, how do I keep from regurgitating the bile of negativity onto the shoes of the innocent reader? Continue reading
It can also be found in my closet, right next to my silk camisole and pink flamingo flannel jammies. No, I’m not talking about my shoebox full of sex toys—ribbed for her pleasure. I’m referring to a Valentine’s Day gift that isn’t the same old socket wrench set that you gave him/her last year.
My Funny Valentine is a collection of twisted stories, bad advice, triumphs, and hideous failures, all having to do with the most convoluted of human emotions: love. The contributors are humor award winners, stand-up comics, columnists, and ne’er-do-wells; all students of human nature. I’d like to share a few choice clips: Continue reading
Despite my best wishes for the prosperity of the major health insurance carriers, they don’t return the sentiment. In fact, they seem to be wishing me a lifetime of living under a bridge and eating the Spam that nobody else wants (which pretty much includes all the free world’s supply of this tasty mystery meat product). Continue reading