(*subject to change) Most people would say that I am, by nature and by nurture, a kind person, but I’m calling uncle on the let’s be kind and stop gun violence. Sorry. I’m a glass half full kinda gal, giving people the benefit of the doubt, too often offering second, third, and fourth chances because I can’t believe people are naturally that mean, nasty, angry, bitter, defiant, hateful. But sometimes
The morning after midterms
My girl lost. Not supposed to call grown-ass women girls, but as a member of the female persuasion, I can take such liberties. A grown ass woman being called girl by a grown-ass woman can be an endearing term of affection. Like “GURRRRLLLLL!” My gurrrrrlllll lost our local election and damn, Newtown missed out on a good one. This time. But my candidate, Rebekah Harriman-Stites, lost, fair and square, by
Take your protest to the polls on Election Day
“How important is it for you to finish high school in Newtown?” Just what every hormonal high school boy wants to hear, when he’s finally a varsity player on different teams, has friends, good grades, and – miraculously – just discovered girls, other than his sisters, weren’t nearly as super annoying as previously thought. Nope, not at all. But in November 2016, Trump the GOP candidate for President, and while I never ever ever thought he’d actually
Why I don’t care about Kavanaugh
It happened twice. The first was a dinner party, where the host texted and said we’d be in “mixed company” so hopefully the Kavanaugh decision didn’t come up. I told her I didn’t care about Kavanaugh. She guffawed, dismayed at my ambivalence, and asked me to bring seltzer and she’d see me Friday. The topic came up, and I shocked everyone by saying I didn’t care about Kavanaugh, I only
The Lucky Bastard on Purple Clover
I recently came across something I wrote a year after my dad died. It was about his own friend dying many years earlier, and I had to be the one to tell him. Discovered the story again, and it still kicks me in the gut, but maybe, I thought, it was because it was my dad, our story. So I sent it to an editor to consider for publication, and Purple
No joke: you are reading a National Award-Winning Columnist
Fight or flight? I chose flight after a fight with my rather attractive pain-in-the-ass husband and flew to Cincinnati. Just for the weekend, but that’s why I left for the National Society for Newspaper Columnists writing conference. In Cincinnati. For the weekend. That, and I was an invited guest. For reals. A couple months back, I was informed I would receive some level of recognition – yet to be determined
What do you want to drive into the next chapter?
It’s not a midlife crisis exactly, it’s more of a life crisis. Life or death. The death of a car, a lifestyle. One chapter closes, and the roof comes off. Or at least it does on a Jeep. The family car, a used Honda Pilot, was bought spur of the moment, the only requirement being it started on a regular basis, and we all fit. It had to seat as
When an unexpected guest arrives at your colonoscopy
Reminder popped up on my calendar, and I ignored it. Then another. And another. Again and again, reminding me it was that time again: time to renew my subscription to the colonoscopy club. I’ve written before about my frequent flyer membership to the let’s-not-die-of-colon-cancer club, and you may recall the love affair I have with my ass doctor. “Stop calling me that, Kathryn,” says the ass doctor. Only telemarketers and
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