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DUMPSTER DAY

I planned to videotape the Miss America and watch it with my daughters—after they returned to me from their dad—the way we always had. (I know, I’m a lowbrow.)

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.

Marathon Women

On an ordinary afternoon in 1998, Eliza, my sixteen-year-old daughter, plopped her backpack at my feet, waved a brochure so close it grazed my nose and declared, “I’m signing up for the Marine Corps Marathon. I’ll be running with a group that raises money for AIDS and trains Sunday mornings …

Death By Chotchke

I’m drowning in junk, buried in boxes, suffocating with stuff. It doesn’t surprise me that all these metaphors point to an untimely end. There would be great irony in getting snuffed out by my stuff, since one of my biggest worries happens to be that I’ll drop dead and my …

CONFESSIONS OF A LOWBROW

I like Oprah not Opera. Country not Classical. I prefer Silence to any Music at all. I choose Breakfast at Tiffany’s over My Dinner With Andre. I’m all about Story, not at all about Historay. Some words whose meanings I never retain Are insipid, insidious and Machiavellian. I’d rather eat turkey than …

Embarrassment Shmembarrassment

Riddle: Every family has them, what are they? Answer: Nicknames that are too embarrassing to expose outside the home. After coffee with friends, I return home, open my front door and call to my bassety beagle Casey, “Casemaster General, where are you?” To say he’s non-responsive overstates his activity level. …

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 …

HOW ANNOYING AM I? PART I

PART I: HOW ANNOYING AM I TO MY DAUGHTERS? Repeating myself “Mom, you’ve told me that ten times!” Asking too many questions Just after exchanging I love you’s and mwah’s at the end of a phone convo, suddenly a string of questions spills out of my mouth like bubbles from …