How Do You Decide Whom To Marry?
OK… I admit that these kid quotes have been ‘borrowed’ ;-) A friend sent these sage words in an e-mail this evening. As I read it a flood of memories raced through my mind ranging from my own recent dating exploits to Art Linkletter’s Kids Say the Darndest Things. If you’re too young to remember Mr. Linkletter’s House Party, take a moment to watch this fabulous YouTube clip. You won’t regret giving up the seven minutes and thirteen seconds of your life. These kids are hysterical… How do you decide whom to marry?You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like,

Reinvention
How many chances do we get? Are there a finite number of times for a do-over or do we get as many chances as we make for ourselves?An endless cycle of failing, trying and succeeding constantly swirls around me. Each new turn surprises me even though there can be nothing more certain than this cycle of change. Fail; try; succeed. Fail; try; succeed.Fail; try; succeed.As I’ve gotten a bit older I’ve become more Zen about the cycles. The one thing I feel sure of is that each one is no better than the other. Each cycle offers its lesson. I’ve struggled these past few years to be more open – telling

World Menopause Day
I'm not sure what's more surprising, that there is a World Menopause Day or that it's something I seem to be paying attention at this point in my life. In any event, what's really important is raising awareness and opening the dialogue about menopause and how it effects all of us. That's right, I said al

Thanksgiving
I've been sitting here editing pages from THANKSGIVING (the novel I'm working on) and thought I'd share the first couple of pages.... Just a little tease and perhaps a little inspiration for contributions to the Starving Artist Fund so I can finish it ;-) November 26, 2009Rita was at a complete loss. Thanksgiving had always been her favorite day of the year and with three short syllables her daughter had driven a stake through its heart and killed the holiday forever. It was raining sideways in New York and the wind whipped between the buildings. Rain and sleet mixed with the hot tears streaming down Rita’s face. She knew where she was