Everyday Granite
A few years ago, I moved to Paris to write a book about life after my mom’s death. (And do other things, too—like live in freakin’ Paris.) The focus of the book changed… Continue reading
A few years ago, I moved to Paris to write a book about life after my mom’s death. (And do other things, too—like live in freakin’ Paris.) The focus of the book changed… Continue reading
It was Saturday morning, the day I took these pictures. Just like today, and yet not anything like today. My friend and I had stayed out all night in Paris, something we vowed… Continue reading
{About a 2-minute read} I walked through her house and grabbed everything I could fit in my arms. They were just things. Glasses. Scarves. Coffee cups. Pens. But they were her things. The… Continue reading
{About a 4-minute read} Two years ago, if you’d asked me who I spent the most time with, my answer would’ve sounded ridiculous. Because the truth was, I spent most of my time… Continue reading
{About a 3-minute read} I have big, amazing news, everyone: I’m expecting. Before you start having visions of me injecting my single-not-dating-a-soul ass with drugs that make me fertile, let me stop you.… Continue reading
{About a 2-minute read} I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a war going on right here in the good old US of A. It’s the battle between Growing Old Gracefully and… Continue reading
{About a 2-minute read} Blogosphere, I hardly recognize you. So much has happened since we last hung out regularly: The Boston Marathon bombing. A royal baby. James Gandolfini, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Robin Williams,… Continue reading
Thanks to my friend Gretchen for sharing this – I totally need it today, though if I’d actually made this graphic I probably would’ve used a stronger curse word than “hell,” but I’m… Continue reading
In the process of updating my bio for PVL, I re-read this story I wrote a while back and remembered that HOLY SHIT, I really have some crazy dating stories. It’s all an… Continue reading
Twice a day, three days in a row. I’m not proud of it (or maybe I am just a little), but that’s how many times I ate gelato at Gelateria del Teatro** when… Continue reading