(with apologies to Virginia Woolf) In 1928, in a lecture at Oxbridge, Virginia Woolf stated that in order for a woman to write (fiction) “a woman must have money and a room of one’s own.” The financial aspect was to provide a woman with a degree of independence, and the room to provide a space
“A picture is worth a thousand words.” Or in this case, an illustrated excuse as to why there is no blog today! (Our new Florida home sweet home.)
What a great time to be a professional complainer. Like myself. And to have written a how-to book about the subject, which will, no doubt, be catapulted to the best seller list due to a recent article in The New York Times. Nearly 10 years into my third-act career and I have finally been validated.
This summer, I was fortunate enough to be able to spend more time than usual in the Big Apple. I realize that, based on what I just related, some of you might believe that the heat got to me and altered any semblance of rational thinking. But, hey, I’m a city kid, born and bred.
There is a consensus among linguists that the English language is weird. (Well, maybe not all linguists, but two or three, at least.) That might be because English is like your pet dog if your dog happens to be a mutt. What makes a mutt weirdly, and wonderfully, unique is that it has borrowed its
I don’t think I’m suffering from paranoia, but I am resolutely convinced that someone from Apple is spying on me. What other explanation can there be to account for the weekly messages that appear on both my i devices (phone and pad) summarizing my screen time? Not only do these messages mathematically tally my screen
This essay originally appeared on September 17, 2015. I'm pleased to say I'm still standing and embracing the Third Stage of my life! For those of you who have imagined me lounging by the pool for the month of August, that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, I've been lounging on my screen
It is the common wisdom that men, especially men of a certain generation, do not like to shop. In fact, a British survey of over 2,000 people found that men became bored after only 20 minutes of shopping, while women could go for a full two hours. This should come as a surprise to no
Come on, admit it. We are all subject to occasional morbid thoughts, especially at that point in life when the number representing our chronological age exceeds the highway speed limit. Don’t tell me that you never think about the Grim Reaper, the Dark Angel, or any of the other euphemisms you can name to avoid
The inevitable has happened. The insidious process has reached its conclusion. The final step has been taken, and the journey is over. I can deny it no longer. I have become my mother! Despite our self-righteous cries as young girls that we will never be like her, one day we look in the mirror, and
