My father is an obstinate man. If I tell him it’s raining, he tells me it’s not. One day, I commented how interesting it was for a painter to paint a cow bright red, and he replied matter of factly, “There are red cows, I’ve seen them.”
Category: Musings
Better than Botox
I recently came upon a book titled French Women Don't Get Facelifts: The Secret of Aging with Style & Attitude (Grand Central Publishing, December 24) by author Mireille Guiliano. I loved the title immediately, as here in Los Angeles, youth rules. I myself have thought about a facelift mainly because I have heard that getting a facelift in your forties gives you the most “bang for your buck.”
my dad loves tamales
my dad loves tamales
but only with lard
bacon grease, real butter,
shortening, 5-star
fat only. on weekends
It’s me, not you
Introverts are not what you think. I am an introvert, but most people would not believe that. I’m social when I go out. I like people BUT...
My House, My Rules
I've been writing ever since I can remember. I've had journals since I was old enough to write. I saved them, all of them. Until my mom read my journal when I was thirteen. Not the age you want your mom reading your journal.
A Minecraft Mind
I had just found his progress report folded up and hidden in his backpack, and I tried to remain calm as I set the paper on top of my computer. He took a moment. His eyes scanned. Neurons scrambling in his head as he saw the "F" in English and the list of missing assignments.
Why I Like to Screw with My Husband
There’s nothing worse than buying expensive pens and having them swiped by your 12-year-old so he can trade them for candy at school. Yes. You heard correctly. My son actually trades my pens for candy. I want him to be an entrepreneur but not at the expense of my pens.
6 Reasons Why 3 Children are the Tipping Point
I started out with one child like most women do. Then, three and a half years later I ended up having twins, so I jumped from one to three overnight. Now, I have to admit when I had just one my attitude was a little different, and I can honestly say that three children is the tipping point.
Why You Should Never Open Your Door to Strangers
My first scary memory as a child happened when I was three. A sound had woken me up in the middle of the night. I heafd a knock on the door and my mom talking. So, I squeezed my blankie and headed down the dark hallway toward the living room. I remember my mom looked very nervous. Then, there was another knock.
40 and Pissed Off
I am 46. Fuck. How did that happen? When did I move to the other side of the mountain? When did I become my mother? When did I become the mom who knows nothing? When did I become the bitchy wife? When did I become 40 and pissed off?
