So, I’m two first dates in for the new year and I’m already feeling tired, confused and oddly surprised. There’s no way I’ll be able to have another twenty of these before the end of the month, which means I’ll have to reconsider my initial goal of 22 dates in January. Being flexible when dating … Continue reading Up 2 Date.
The first month of a new year always comes with plenty of pressure to make major life changes, be they intended to be permanent or just for the 31 days of January. In a typical year, gym memberships, divorces and diets all experience a surge and folks looking to seriously trim down sometimes explore all … Continue reading Dry January? How about “Try January?”
2021 was a weird one, friends. The promise with which it began quickly devolved into chaos within the new year’s first week. Things after that, to me, never quite seemed real. Seriously, on more than one occasion, I caught myself dating correspondence or banking paperwork as the previous year, 2020. It was almost as … Continue reading Bitches Brew, or the women in my life
I’ve been binging on Peter Jackson’s documentary series, Get Back, about the Beatles and it really couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s the kind of show, in my opinion, that doesn’t require acute attention and that’s kind of where I am at present. The project most certainly was a labor of love for … Continue reading Keeping it together as the Beatles fall apart
Recently, I've been on a Lumineers kick and the title of this post comes from their song, Donna. It wasn’t the first lyric in the song that caught my ear, but it was the one that prompted me to write it down. Let’s just say it resonated. I’ve written, and even publicly spoken, about finding … Continue reading Your mother never was one
Over the years many friends have given me plants. I probably have 9 or 10 houseplants at this very moment which I received as gifts. For the most part, these plants do well, although I’ve learned that like the peplum in fashion, jade plants and I are never going to be friends. That’s ok. There … Continue reading The death of passion
I was born in Manhattan but didn’t live there until 1992, which was decades past my debut at the now defunct Manhattan Infirmary. When I finally actually moved to NYC, I arrived at the age of 25 with my first month’s rent paid, two part time jobs, a broken heart and $200 to my name. … Continue reading Bet your boots