The view from our window. Metaphorically beautiful, the big “stay” sign, amidst the fog. Some of us need really obvious signs. Sometimes you don’t realize how close behind you your past is, until you turn around and are staring it smack in the beady little eyes. But it’s always there. Sometimes it gets you in a strangle-hold, sometimes it needles you, but it is there, like a shadow. I ran into mine this weekend, in ways that I never would have expected, but it made so many th

I promised my friend Monica that I would shred The Top 10 Subtle Ways To Tell Her She’s Getting Fat from AskMen.com, because she was, in her words, too pissed off to do it herself. Turns out, I may have the same problem. And I’m sad, confused, worried. Mostly, the only words I’ve been able to come up with all day are, “What the fuck are you thinking, you fucking idiots?” The article starts by stating: As every man knows, there are some things you just can’t come right out and

There are people we admire, maybe even aspire to be like. Then there are those we actually resemble, in action and deed anyway. I’d like to be like Gandhi. I am much more like Willy Wonka.  I’m wondering if becoming Gandhi-like is a reasonable goal, perhaps some sort of hybrid is more reasonable. So I’m gonna start with Willy, and mix in some Gandhi and see what happens. The thing I love most about Gandhi is  his commitment to truth. Just flat-out honesty at all costs. To me,

I was having a drink the other night with one of those dreamy, tall, dark and handsome men that could make a woman agree to anything. We were talking about past relationships, and I’m relatively certain that had he said, “I need a woman who will wear a suit of armor 24 hours a day and let me set a ferret lose in it now and then,” I would have said, “that’s my ultimate fantasy.” His voice dripped across me like the smooth sax of a Charlie Brown adult, and I nodded in giddy agr