Drop Phone In Toilet

Aug 20

Drop Phone In Toilet

  This was not at the top of my To Do List. But shit happens. Sometimes all too literally. So what’s a girl to do? First, you scream at the toilet. Which, I know you’re wondering about but will now have entirely TMI, was not empty. Then, number two, you should pardon the expression, you dig down deep, not just into the bowl but into your soul. You...

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I Lost It In Rome

Aug 27

I Lost It In Rome

Ah, Rome, the Eternal City. Forget about San Francisco: you can leave your heart here faster than you can say, “Ciao, Baby!” I, however, held on to my heart, but left my underwear. Let me explain! I was in Rome with my friend, Diana, shopping for tennis outfits at this really nice store near the Trevi Fountain. They had good prices (back in the day when...

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The Reruns of Summer

Aug 14

The Reruns of Summer

 Hey! It’s summer. Time for a quick, refreshing rerun. I’m running this post again because . . . I can.  Listen, fall will be here soon enough. Too soon. Meanwhile, read this and see if you can’t feel the sun on your face and the sand beneath your toes, or vice versa, if that works for you. . . Life’s a Beach I love the beach,...

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Wow ‘Em With Your Wedding

Aug 27

Wow ‘Em With Your Wedding

And put some magic in your marriage. . . Co-Written with Guest Blogger, Gary Poole First the confession: Gary has no more right than I do (a phrase I’ve said more times than I’m willing to admit) to give anyone advice on marriage. Between us, we have an impressive number (none of your business) of marriages, and all but the current ones ended in divorce....

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A Woody Allen Moment

Aug 22

A Woody Allen Moment

  Quite a few moments, actually. Do you have any idea how much time the “average” American spends waiting? Try 2 to 3 years. 2 to 3 Years! Hard to believe, but not really, when you factor in doctor’s offices, the lines at Costco, and the Motor Vehicle Bureau. I hate waiting as much as the next person, but, not wanting to be anything short of...

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Don’t Call Me Ma’am! Unless You Buy My Book

Aug 02

Don’t Call Me Ma’am! Unless You Buy My Book

If there’s anything I hate it’s being called “Ma’am.” Ever notice how clever clerks and wily waiters call you “Miss” when they’re trying to make a sale or score a good tip. It’s a variation on the old routine savvy flower sellers once used. Remember when sidewalk vendors sold single long stem roses—or better...

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