Beijing and Bicycle Conundrum
It’s a Beijing conundrum because I don’t want to support the stolen bike industry by buying a new, used, probably stolen bike.
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ANXIETY
Selling Street Sense, Washington’s Homeless Newspaper
Nearly everyone had an avoidance tactic. They turned their heads away or looked straight ahead, as though I were invisible.
Worry Pastiche
Surveys showed that one in twelve listeners believed the story was real and that Martians were invading New Jersey.
Empty Nest Redux
Are two overnights a month better than four visits for a few hours each plus having her nearby for spontaneous additional visits?
Worried About Too Many Advisors
What am I to do about too many advisors? I began preparing for the 2-minute pitch of my memoir 60 days in advance, an average of 1 day for every 3 seconds.
Name Dyslexia
Given my name dyslexia, every time I go outside, I have to rehearse all four names beforehand in case I run into any of them.
LIVING IN CHINA: HIBISCUS BULBS, ALAN DERSHOWITZ, AND PEAS
In 1980, while living in China, I insisted on speaking Mandarin when planning a dinner for Alan Dershowitz and other Harvard professors. Oops.
Antidote to Worry: Easy Dinners of Adobo Chicken (and Sharing)
As easy dinners go, this is the easiest. All you need is 4 ingredients.
I’m Fine! . . . What, not Great?
I can’t remember why I was only fine, rather than the usual great, but this makes an important point:
Confessions of a Worrywart: Husbands, Lovers, Mothers, and Others
“Susan Orlins is America’s funniest neurotic since Woody Allen. Just be careful you don’t crack a rib reading her memoir, Confessions of a Worrywart.”
On Noise and Amtrak’s Quiet Car
I am a fan of Amtrak’s quiet car, yet I harbor love-hate emotions toward the sub-culture of those who journey in this vessel of alleged silence.
Three Questions
Why do we type
The addressee’s address
Above the salutation?
Does he or she
Need this information?
Breakfast Club Envy
Recently, after reading about a breakfast club, my breakfast club envy flared up.
Chasing a Veal Chop
On a Sunday evening in New York I enjoyed a lovely dinner at the Union Square Café with my friend Jessica. I was happy with my pappardelle until two thirds of the way through my meal, at the next table, a waitperson placed in front of a trim young woman …
Secrets, Meddling, and Regrets
I regret not only some of my meddling on my children’s behalf, but also having kept a secret.
Saying What You Mean, Especially About Splitting the Bill
This story about saying what you mean when it comes time to paying or splitting the bill makes me sad.
What Does Heaven Look Like and How Will I Find My Peeps?
If there’s a heaven,
Will they offer me a key,
Given how mean I was to Barbara Satinsky?
Will Barbara Satinsky forgive and invite me to tea?
Sandusky and A Primer on Jewish Names
We already have Madoff, as well as Gingrich’s billionaire SuperPacSuperMacher Sheldon Adelson, so I’m glad that, even though Sandusky sounds like a Jewish name, he is not one of ours. Sandusky’s name is misleading, because the “sky” at the end could be construed as belonging to our tribe. But is …
Grateful for Gradual
Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without gradual. When my firstborn was an infant, I tried to imagine how I would ever entrust her to a kindergarten teacher.
10 Tips for Getting Rid of Telemarketers: Confessions of a Telemarketer
Confession: I was a telemarketer. In 1976—when I became a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch—I had never heard the word telemarketing; we called it cold calling.
Cognitive Therapy: Lessons Learned
At Alcatraz, a former prisoner spoke. He said those who obsessed about getting out “didn’t make it.” Cognitive Therapy would have helped.
Two Shrinks: Psychiatrist and Cognitive Therapist
He is always on time.
She is sometimes late.
He ends the session after exactly 45 minutes.
She ends the session when we are finished talking,
Dear Susan: I’m a Procrastinator
Dear Susan, I should be working now but instead I’m writing to you. You see, I’m a procrastinator. Please help me stop putting things off! Signed, Puttingthingsoff in Peoria Dear PiP, I’m so glad you asked. I am great at procrastination. Here is one thing I do to procrastinate: I …
Dear Susan from Worried in Wisconsin
Worry is addictive, plain and simple. It hits the same pleasure center of the brain as alcohol and other addictive substances. If you are able to control your intake of other addictive substances, then you can control worry, now that you know how addictive it is.
Writing-a-Book Worries
I’ll give you a moment to digest what it is like for a worrywart to write a book. Try to imagine all there is to worry about.
TIPS DAY: MOMENT OF WORRY
Recently I wrote a piece called Easy Meditation, in which I shared a method I heard about on NPR. On that NPR segment, the author talked about allowing thoughts to pass through your mind like clouds.
DIZZY: LIVING WITH MY BOYFRIEND, CIRCA 1967
My starter husband Saul and I began dating the week before I entered college; we married after my sophomore year and divorced during my junior year. I emerged from the husband, the garden apartment and the Impala sedan squinting from the sudden brightness of university life. At age twenty, for the …
ANTIDOTE TO WORRY: POPCORN
Popcorn is one of my favorite comfort foods. It fills me up, is healthful, tastes delicious and I pretend that eating this overflowing pot of it, sprinkled with sea salt, won’t make me feel squeezed in the waist by my elastic waist pants. When my oldest daughter Eliza was a toddler, I …
CHILLAXING
I don’t claim to be chill, but I become even less chill when someone tells me to chillax. When I’m really excited about something and someone says, “Chillax,” it’s even worse; it’s what my friend calls “squishing the little bird inside of you.” Take, for example, the time I was …
A Mother’s Tweetmares
Following one’s daughter on Twitter carries risks for a worrywart. Especially when that daughter tweets all day long. Last weekend my daughter (the tweeter) threw a birthday party for herself at a bar where I knew she would be surrounded by loads of friends. It never occurred to me anything …