I’ve forgotten how to shake hands. Which one? Left? Right? Something that used to be commonplace–I prided myself on the integrity of my handshake–feels alien. And, well, germy. I’ve also misplaced my ability to appear interested in a conversation I don’t care about. Make no mistake: I care about many, many things. Solidly on my... Continue Reading →
When we moved to Atlanta, we walked up into a ready-made group of friends we lovingly refer to as The Tacos. When we're all together, there are 21 of us (adults & kids). And, pre-quarantine, every Thursday we'd taco. All together. In a restaurant. (Actually, there may be 23 of us ... this is why... Continue Reading →
When I walked up into Alcoholics Anonymous in my cowboy boots, feeling mighty superior, I had my script firmly in hand. I was a smart, sensitive, tragic victim. The world simply couldn't understand someone as deeply empathic and intuitive as I was. So, I drank to shield myself from the tragedy of the every day as it unfolded around me.