Baby Carriers and the So-called Caravan
What’s killing me the most is the photos: not just bodies crammed onto bridges or flatbeds trucks, or sprawled along the roadside with nothing more than…
How to Make Edible Place Cards (Thanksgiving Part 4)
We used to have hand painted place cards for everyone. But the boyfriends and girlfriends have come and gone over the years and even though we…
Of Cheesecake and Toll Booths (Thanksgiving Part 2)
Somewhere between The Wedding Date’s house and his parents’, I began to panic. Not because I was about to sit down to dinner with folks who…
10 Awesome Thanksgiving Pictures
I am very thankful this year: A) I remembered my grandfather’s car does NOT have EZPASS before zipping through the toll booths on my way to…
A Tale of Two Thanksgivings, Part 1
Growing up, I never understood why grownups got so stressed about Thanksgiving. I mean seriously, what’s the big deal? You eat turkey, you shove some vegetables…
Finally: A Date to the Hooper’s Island Martini Bar Soiree
It’s finally happening. After two years, 31 men and over one hundred dates, I’ve finally landed myself a proper boyfriend to join me at the annual…
Two Men, One Martini Bar
It’s not as bad as it sounds, although I suppose any woman who accidentally invites two men to Thanksgiving dinner ought to provide some sort of…
And We’re Back: The Black Friday Martini Bar Soiree
I know. I know. It’s been ages. But I have an excuse. Honest. And it involves both men and dance and the annual Hoopers Island Black…
Queen of the Buffet
I discovered three interesting things about myself and life in general yesterday. It was Day #1 of the Philadelphia’s Writer Conference and as such, I found…
Confessions of an Accidental Journalist
It’s Wednesday. At least right now it’s Wednesday; it will probably be Thursday by the time you’re reading this. Nonetheless, Wednesday starts with “w” and writing…
From Dating to D-A-T-I-N-G
Since Date #17 is still too busy studying (doesn’t he realize I have to go on dates in order to write about dates?) I’d like to…
Date #6
Date #6 isn’t a date. He’s not terribly keen on my “anthropological experiment” (I’ve warned all would-be suitors on Match.com) and I can’t say that I…
Fieldwork in Stilettos 