Do you ever wonder what you could have accomplished with your life if you hadn’t spent so much of it looking for your car keys? And your reading glasses. And your cellphone, checkbook and TV remote.
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Alcohol allows revelers to forget the worst of the past year and start the new one off just as badly.
I realize I’m late getting my Christmas letter out, but there’s a good reason for that: I’m late writing it
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It’s good to try before you buy—except for groceries. Don’t do that.
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Don’t slam doors; you never know who might be napping. Don’t ask a woman when her baby is due unless you’re ure she’s pregnant. And be kind to everyone you meet; you never know who might win the lottery next.
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If surveys were dollar bills, I could afford health insurance.
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There’s a race to the bottom on Facebook and, while I normally don’t do well in races, I could win this one if I choose to participate.
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Fifty years ago, astronauts traveled to the moon, changing America forever and inspiring one of the most often-quoted sentences ever spoken: If they can put a man on the moon, why can’t they cure the common cold?
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I’m inspired on this Valentine’s Day to consider the many ways technology has made romance more efficient, if not more romantic.
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Feeling a little let down after a busy holiday season? Cheer up. You still have Lumpy Rug Day to look forward to.
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I’m a nice person—mostly. Ask anyone who knows me. Except my family. Don’t ask them.
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Ah, the holiday season; a joyous time for families to come together, create new traditions, and fight about the old ones.
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There’s a turkey the size of Plymouth Rock thawing in my refrigerator when I stumble across the following startling statistic on the internet.
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I admire those guys on that TV commercial who dance around in outfits as pink as plastic flamingos and sing about digestive disorders. That really takes…uh…guts.
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I said to my husband, “Let’s dance. We’ll never see these people again.”
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“Disposable” just seems like a funny way to describe something that will outlast us, our kids, grandkids, great grandkids and probably their great grandkids too. Heck, we could pass down plastic cutlery as family heirlooms. “Disposable” seems like a funny way to describe something that will outlast us, our kids, grandkids, great grandkids and probably their great grandkids too.
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One Friday morning when I was in college, a certain nice young man asked me on a date for that evening. I agreed without hesitation. There was just one problem. Another not-as-nice young man had already asked me out—sort of.
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