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I’m a writer, so I love to eavesdrop. In fact, I encourage my creative writing students to listen to conversations unobtrusively and often.
But I do wonder what listening to someone else’s discussion has to do with an eave (the edge of a roof that overhangs the side of a building) dropping. So, as a writer/researcher, I look up the origins of the word. Continue reading
“Not now, you’re too young,” my mom insists when I’m 10.
“Not now, you’re still too young, “my mom asserts when I’m 12.
“Not now. Wait until you’re an adult. By then you won’t want them,” my mom concludes when I’m 16.
But now, I’m 18, a sophomore in college, and my mom lives thousands of miles away.
I’ve wanted this for so long. My girlfriends tell me to go for it. “You’re a grown up now; there’s nothing to be afraid of,” claims my roommate Pam.
Yes, my roommate and I have the same name, and she matches me in so many other ways: she wears her brown hair long; she thinks she’s in love with her boyfriend; she’s tall and nice-looking; she’s creative. But she has one thing I don’t. Continue reading
The day begins with anticipation, which makes me chuckle.
Gone is the time when I looked forward to a young man arriving at the doorstep for a date. Now, I’m anxious for the arrival of a 7-year-old boy and hours of Uno and giggles.
Sure enough, 90 minutes into my grandson’s visit, the score is Madre 540, genius boy 35.
The winner is the one with the lowest score.
This kid is killing me, particularly as he rubs his hands before each new game and says gleefully, “The cards just love me, Madre,” with a shrug and a wink. Continue reading
I love romance.
I dream romance, read romance, believe in the power of romance.
Even though I’m as single as they come.
Yup, 40 and never been married.
Forty, and I haven’t had one romantic moment in my life.
Or, at least, not romantic (enough) for me. Continue reading
As I walked down the expansive beach to join my family sitting by the sea, a noisy small plane flew over us, swinging a banner that proclaimed loudly and happily: Congrats Mr. and Mrs. Michael Smith.
I seethed and simmered and sank into a bit of a funk.
However, as I approached the females in the family – my daughter, niece, sister-in-law, and 20-something-babysitter – they all rejoiced out loud, exclaiming, “Did you see the banner? Isn’t that sweet?”
My thunderous expression shocked them. Continue reading