Category Archives: Love & Marriage

Oh Santa Baby, I Just Can’t Quit You


Oh, Santa. Baby. How long will our merry go round keep going round? Do  we need couples counseling again this year?

You and I have been in our indescribably on-again-off-again relationship for too long. I’ve been writing about our tortured love for how many years?

In 2011 it was off.

2012, back on again.

In 2013 we acted like friends with benefits.

But it wasn’t enough. Sure I had Adam Sandler for Thankschanukah, but you can’t intersperse dreidels with Christmas cookies and call it one big happy holiday. Thankschanukah is gone, and as my friend’s 3-year-old said as she wept for a Christmas tree (when reminded of her joyous Hanukah celebration)  “But I’m so over Hanukuh!”

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Romantic or Realistic: The Bad Boy Quiz

73103865Awhile ago I wrote my warning about falling for the ‘bad boy.’ Now it’s time to figure out if you have one lying next to you. And what kind. You may think you have a Marlboro Man while in truth you’re harboring a Hannibal Lector.

Take a look below. Which one is your bad boy?

The Romantic Lead: Rhett Butler. Heart of gold hiding inside a scallywag. Has tons of money. Always shows up to rescue you. Loves children. Once committed to you, he’ll sweep you away to a fully staffed mansion and the best big O you’ve ever had.

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Also posted in Cultural Politics, Domestic Violence | Tagged | 1 Comment

How Things Can Change: Looking Forward to Valentine’s Day

It’s sure nice to have love where it’s not the sad songs that provide the theme. Thank you, Jeff.


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Sexy, Responsible, Heart-Throbbing Heroes

Could it be possible that our lust for the bad boys — a hunger which begets dreams that bear nightmares — begins the night we aim our reading flashlights on Rhett Butler and his ilk? Face it, who took away our breath? Who were we trained to want? Namby-pamby Ashley or the dashing Rhett?

How about the other side? The sexy good men (and aren’t the truly good and responsible ones men, not boys?) who step up for justice, or catch a killer, or save the town, without trampling on women’s hearts or bending the rules with a smirk on their faces — how many of them do we worship?

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Flooded with Birthday Gratitude


It’s my birthday and my husband stayed home from work to wetvac, trying to keep the floodwaters covering our basement under the two-inch mark. He’s been down there since 6:30 this morning.

He’s unshaven.

I’m wearing torn jeans.

He forgot to say Happy Birthday and I don’t care, because this is what I know:

Living with a man who spends the day in a damp dark basement vacuuming up murky water is about as big a birthday present any woman in her right mind would want.

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Also posted in My Life | 4 Comments