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Going Rogue on Christmas Gifts

I love Christmas and I love buying gifts for people, but put them together and it seems like this insurmountable stressful task that is not so much fun. And I’m not talking about gifts for my kids. I know them pretty well and raised them to love the magic of a surprise, so that’s easy.…

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The Family Dinner Horror Show

I have never liked horror movies. It was one and done for me. I still can’t even think about the Exorcist without covering my ears and saying, “La, la, la, la, la.” But lately, I’ve been longing for something as simple as a demon-possessed child with a spinning head. A creepy clown offering kids a…

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Doing Time in Elementary School

This is my 13th consecutive year with a child in elementary school. It’s also, finally, my last. I’ve done my time and when I get out on the other side, I won’t lie, I will be a changed woman. When I was sent to the big house back in 2005, I was thirty-five. I had…

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The Joy of Not Caring About Stuff

I have no idea why we care about some things deeply, and other things we have no interest in at all. Take the eclipse. I’m super gung-ho about the eclipse, but hell, I get wildly pumped up for a full moon every month, and find a clear starry night to hold romance, mystery, and, possibly,…

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We Means You

There’s an age-old trick in the conversations of married couples dating back to the days of ancient hieroglyphics, probably. It is so simple, so subtle, so cunning, it mostly goes undetected. It is a harmless pronoun that to the naked ear sounds innocent, inclusive even. But beware. It’s a trap. When someone you are in…

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The Legend of The Fourth of July in My Hometown

When I was growing up, July 4th was my favorite holiday. Forget the high holy days, or even the guaranteed full-size Snickers at that weird lady’s house down the street on Halloween. It was the Fourth of July I lived for. I lived in a charming little beach town on the shoreline of Connecticut called,…

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Things I Want To Complain About That Make Me An Asshole

Years ago, we were living in a teeny tiny, can’t stand up straight upstairs, cape with barely two bathrooms, and we were redoing the one downstairs. I was talking to a friend who had just built a huge-ass mansion and when I confessed I was stressed out about picking out tile she said, “Imagine picking…

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I Tried the Fascia Blaster on My Cellulite

Okay, let’s get one thing straight. I am not getting paid for this. I’m not writing this on demand for the Fascia Blaster people. And my only financial interaction with them was the $89+tax and shipping I plunked down for this gizmo. And, before I reveal to you if it works, please know I’m not…

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Escaping Your Inner Voice Captor

My inner voice is an asshole. For as long as I can remember, even as far back as elementary school, it taught me important things like, You’re not good at art. You suck a dodge ball. Your bangs are dumb looking. You can’t spell. But like a hostage with a diabolical captor, I didn’t know…

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