Welcome to Miami

You know those idiots from the Midwest who lose their minds when they go to the beach?  They only have a weekend in Florida so they hit the sand with nary a drop of sunscreen, determined to squeeze as much tanning as possible into a 48-hour period, and then act surprised when they get back…

Miami Bound

So today, I’m heading to Miami.  I’ve never flown to Florida for just a weekend before, and it seems rather decadent.  My guilt over carbon emissions, however, hasn’t kept me from packing six pairs of shoes into my carryon, nor has it kept me from agreeing to fly to Miami in the first place. A…

Something Akin to Cabin Fever

Between snow days and sick days, my bank account’s not looking nearly as healthy as it once did.  Nonetheless, when I brave the snow to deposit this week’s paychecks, the branch manager invites me into his office and urges me to consider upgrading my free checking account. “With your assets, you’re eligible for a Crown…

Aren’t We Supposed to Learn from History?

Somehow, inexplicably, I’m still alive.  Obviously it’s because I’m meant to return to the activist ways of my youth and go storming the halls of Congress to make sure McCain doesn’t succeed in getting the healthcare reform bill repealed, but I can barely follow the debate as it is (and I have a Masters degree……

Of Shoes and Sudafed

You know you’re truly under the weather when there are two brand new shoeboxes lying on the floor outside of your closet, containing (presumably) the new stilettos and high heeled boots you ordered from NineWest.com and yet you have not the slightest inclination to open the boxes and try them on. At least this is…

How Not to Make a Sauna

“Just try it,” my mother urges me, “it’s just like a sauna.” For the record, hanging your head over a bowl of boiling, eucalyptus-scented water in the hopes of clearing your sinuses is nothing like a sauna.  Saunas involve handsome Finnish farmhands, in the nude, and alcohol and obliging fields through which to go streaking. …

According to Austen

The great Jane Austen once wrote “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”  She was right, and as her facsimile currently stands at the edge of my desk in the form of a fully-hinged action figure, I feel it appropriate to confess that…

The Demise of PSM#3

I’m on the third floor of Barnes and Noble leafing through a novel by Simone de Beauvoir when PSM#3 finally deigns to grace me with his presence.  It’s 7:39pm.  This makes him nearly 40 minutes late. Approximately 36 hours, one glass of wine and one overpriced salmon filet later, I receive an email from eHarmony…