I was the girl with a framed photo of Gloria Steinem on her bedroom wall, beside a photo of a young Frank Sinatra.
The part of me that wanted to die simply crawled off into the woods and never came back.
I have often joked to friends that I married my husband for his sense of direction. And since I met him, the scope of my travels has expanded greatly.
I HAD a cowboy once. It wasn't like Ennis and Jack, more like Roy and Dale. But it was still hard for me to quit him. One Christmas, years ago, when I was living in Los Angeles, I took my children and the man I was planning to marry on a vacation to a dud
My daughter was a Beatles fan by the time she was five, and she had already fallen for John.
My mother’s madness seeped in so quietly that my father was able to ignore it, believing that it would get better on its own.
There was no guarantee an open adoption would get us a baby any faster than a closed or foreign adoption, but we decided to try to do it anyway.
I KNOW I'm not the only woman who waits for something. Some of you are waiting for the phone to ring, or for him to kiss you, or propose, or come home. I just have my thumb out, and I never have to wait long. Though I know I cede my power the minute I get
I MET Krista after an abrupt breakup with a live-in boyfriend. I needed a new place to live, and responding to an ad, I found refuge in what felt like the Brooklyn Annex for Aging Spinsters, an apartment of three women between 33 and 40, nursing various s
I woke up happy one morning, not taxed by too much work, not depressed, not sleep deprived. But my brain, forever searching for something to worry about, could not let this placid moment be and quickly started an argument with an imaginary boyfriend. ''No