Help! My Fat is Trapped

I slip into a pair of stylie disposable panties, and the laser tech snaps some "before" photos of my cottage cheese butt. If I wouldn’t have recognized my hand in the photo I would have sworn that the pictures were of someone else. The label in my pants says size 6; so, I’m not fat, but the photos made me look like Elizabeth Taylor after eating everything, including aspirin, covered in mayonnaise. read more on ...more

Slip Sliding Away

...Looking around the breakfast room, it occurs to me that I should locate the children. Once I find them, I should clack their heads together. Good news is that they fed themselves breakfast. Bad news is that they tore two cereal boxes into shreds. Milk pools on several surfaces and the opened gallon of remaining milk sits on the floor. Apparently, the darlings reached their little arms into the pantry and pulled every item towards them and onto the ground. Then they left the cabinet doors open with the contents spilling onto the floor. ...more

Losing My Children's ReligionDevil be damned. I was always on the holy side because my grandmother monitored my daily progress,

Devil be damned. I was always on the holy side because my grandmother monitored my daily progress, gave me money and dragged me to the church house every time the doors opened. There was never any doubt Mr. Webb could find in my heart. All my boxes were checked. read more at ...more

Christmas Eve Call to 9-1-1

...Back at the gallery I call 911 and begin explaining how my husband is missing. The owner is obviously traumatized and is trying to comfort my children with, “I know we are going to find your daddy very soon. Don’t you worry.” I am thinking about how for the rest of my life I will tell people about how 2007 was the most perfect Christmas until my husband fell on the ice and bashed his brains out. read what happened at ...more

Inside the Mind of A Birthday Party Hostess

Imagine this story like a trip on the Magic School Bus with Miss Frizzle as the narrator. Shrink yourself to the size of a gnat and float through my ear for a close-up view of my mind during a birthday party for a horde of 1st graders. read more at ...more

Real Deal or No Deal?

Need I remind you of Jasper - the horse wrangling, shark fighting, roller-skating, Voltsmarching, sea kayaking friend of mine who puts the lust into wandering? Jasper is like the best part of your favorite song. He is the crescendo you want to replay over and over. However, the nature of Jasper is forward movement. While you want to replay his last adventure, his newest adventure always over shadows his past escapades. ...more

Oprah’s Favorite Things Holiday 2007

Today, I caught an online mention of Oprah’s Favorite Things Holiday 2007. After reviewing the load of consumer berserkism, Oprah is getting a black mark on my list. Does the network make her sell all that crap to the innocent flock of sheep that devotedly watch her spew everyday? She might as well be a door-to-door salesman. read the full list on ...more

WWJCD? (What Would Joan Crawford Do?)

Here is my question: What would Joan Crawford do? Remember the days when a woman could breakdown and check into the hospital for recuperation? Can’t do that anymore a nurse tells me. In the old days, a weary woman could take an uninterrupted rest in a hospital room with the curtains drawn and three meals a day delivered to her bed. Presumably, this type of rest included an infusion of vitamins and sedatives that provided the patient with a much-needed rest. read the answer at ...more


Seriously, Halloween sucks every year. It seems like a fun, low-pressure holiday unlike the major holidays that demand homemade goods, presents, new clothes and special scheduling software. Halloween is billed to be a low-key, kick-in-the-pants kind of day. Not. Halloween, pimped by Hershey and Nestle (must read this nasty story) is the new Christmas, which by the way, is dead to me. This is what my day looked like: proceed to for the rest of the story ...more

Soap Opera Sunday

After the electric shock therapy, Judalou was in a reliably good, yet dull, state of mind. Two weeks after her discharge from Heights of the Hills, Marvin escorted her to a follow-up visit with the doctor. Judalou, no longer rolling in deep depression, was once again dressing in her normal fashion--which on this humid summer morning consisted of cork wedge-heeled shoes festooned in plastic fruit, a white tent dress and necklace made of golf ball-sized colored beads. read the rest at ...more