“Your brain is too polite, Martha,” my sister tells me over the phone.
“WHAT?” I’m annoyed with Janet anyway, just out of principle, but this is just too much. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
Janet chuckles, raising my ire even further. She’s older than me by three years and always acts like it. She’s the wiser one, the better one, the patronizing one. Continue reading
While driving to the airport two weeks ago, I had a horrible thought.
What name did my son use to authorize me to pick up my 12-year-old CA grandson from the Boston airport?
“Sky” had never flown on his own. But he couldn’t wait for the taste of independence (and full attention from doting grandparents) by flying across country to visit us for a week.
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When was the last time you were embarrassed?
Embarrassment is defined as mild to severe levels of discomfort, usually experienced when someone commits a socially unacceptable or frowned-upon act.
The older I get, the less embarrassed I am. Hey, take me as I am, or don’t take me at all. But one of the stories in my just-published “flash memoir,” Flashes of Life: True Tales of the Extraordinary in the Ordinary, includes a tale entitled “How to Embarrass Your Kids.” Readers have told me they relate to my (tee hee) gleeful moments of embarrassing my progeny. Not in a mean way, but …. 
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I scrutinized the man under veiled eyes. My long dark eyelashes were one of my vanities, and in times like these they came in useful. (The Exit Door)
Since when did I follow a complete stranger ( I wondered – what’s an incomplete stranger?) out of a social setting where I knew at least half the participants, toward a “wonderful café” he suggested?
“George,” the blue-jeaned “complete” stranger said as if reading my mind. And no, I don’t do this often.” Continue reading
Once again, I wonder why I’m here, where the exit door is, and how quickly I can excuse myself. I know that Karen means well, but Karen is not the good friend she thinks she is. If she really knew me – Mandy Shepherd, the introvert – really cared about me, she’d keep me away from this kind of “meetngreet” fiasco. Continue reading
roughwighting 