Making memories at your family reunion
Every person should have at least one breathless, wide-eyed memory of summer.
Leaping off a sun bleached wooden dock; casting a line into an icy clear Midwestern lake; clinging blindly to an out-of-control paddle boat with the sickening realization that you are heading straight for a monstrously large shoreline poison ivy patch.
She has officially come undone
As usual, I'm ahead of the curve in all the wrong ways.
Just once I'd like to be the first to buy the next hot stock, embrace the next fashion-forward look, or even have the season's hottest salad dressing on my plate before anyone else (Lime Kool-Aid vinaigrette anyone?).
Sealing the deal: Duct tape fails, too
Duct tape: It's not just for pipe repair and hostage situations anymore.
Recently, in an embarrassing setback for NASA, a temporary window cover fell off the shuttle while it was on the launch pad, damaging thermal tiles near the tail.
It’s up to you to prevent PDA
Back in the day we shunned PDA.
No, not personal digital assistant - that's so 21st century.
PDA was Public Display of Affection, i.
Life Out Loud: Quick eye for the cash guy
I really wanted to write something today, but I'm currently obsessed with stalking my bank account. This is, I assure you, every bit as exciting as it sounds.
Some see the pool half full
First, let me state for the record that no dogs were harmed in the making of this column.
Primarily because those little buggers are fast and really hard to catch.
Frenzy over female racer leaves mom’s taxi in the pits
So, the entire world is up in arms because Danica Patrick, a female driver, placed fourth at the Indy 500 recently.
Don’t shoot your shoes this summer
As a mother, I want a lot for my children.
I want them to be happy, to cure cancer, to be compassionate and well-loved individuals, and to marry into Bill Gates' millions.
She’s one unhappy camper
I am not, nor will I ever be, the 'roughing it" type.
My husband, bless his heart, refuses to believe this.
Writers and mothers can relate well
Now that I'm a "real writer" (as opposed to my former slacker's life as a married mother moonlighting as a writer), I'm amazed at all the similarities - besides sleeping late - between tortured artists and me.
