How do you swallow a buffalo?
There’s a trick to it, which I was taught some dozen years ago, deep in the jungle, at Christmas dinner, by a man who’d stolen everything from me. 1,665 more words
Overheard in Safeway, McLoughlin Boulevard
November, 2014 Around 6 p.m.
In light of the late blasts of Gwyneth Paltrow vitriol blowing around the Internet, I was intrigued to recently overhear this conversation between a well-put-together, rather Gwynethy-looking woman and her daughter in the checkout line at Safeway. 141 more words
Is youth wasted on the young?
Sometime around one’s 30th birthday, to be certain, one realizes with a start the astonishing measure of self-absorption and small-mindedness that has defined one’s first decade as a card-carrying adult. 372 more words
Hey, writer! When was the last time you took a good look at your own hands? I mean, a really, really good long look?
Sure, they’re fluttering in and out of the periphery of vision over the course of any average day, assisting in the picking up and setting down of life’s dull and delightful objects. 1,670 more words
I have to confess something. I have no idea who in the hell you are.
At least some of the time, anyway.
I’m honestly not trying to be rude, though you might well think me snobbish because I blew you off at the mall or glared at you in yoga class or cooly averted my gaze when we happened to pass each other on the street. 1,670 more words
Dear Type As:
I know you’re really busy making the world a better place and all, but can we talk for a just minute about Type A people? 2,962 more words