After the sun slides behind the ash trees in my backyard, my heart thumps with anticipation. It’s finally time for GETTING THINGS DONE. . . . → Read More: Getting Things Done
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Each of my girls could keep some of me in a gorgeous mosaic urn, personalized with photos under glass beads, like the ones my friend Sybil Sage makes for ashes of your cat or your mother. . . . → Read More: Susan’s Ashes My girlfriend Bev and I formed our own two-member fan club for James Vincent Peatross, a Bandstand regular and frequent dance contest winner. . . . → Read More: Dick Clark and American Bandstand Memories With the kerfuffle about Ann Romney having been a stay-at-home mom, I thought I would put in my two cents about stay-at-home moms. . . . → Read More: Stay-at-Home Mom Kerfuffle Easter Egg Roll 2012 observations: Most children seemed to be having a swell time, the parents were the happiest people there, and President Obama’s khakis were a perfect fit. . . . → Read More: Easter Egg Roll 2012 The To Do List Dear Susan, I should be working now but instead I’m writing to you. You see, I’m a procrastinator. Please help me stop putting things off! Signed, Puttingthingsoff in Peoria Dear PiP, I’m so glad you asked. I am great at procrastination. Here is one thing I do to procrastinate: I . . . → Read More: Dear Susan: I’m a Procrastinator I was happy that my mind was still logical enough . . . → Read More: Worrywart Logic Early in our relationship, on warm Friday evenings, my boyfriend Steve (who later became my husband) and I frequently squished onto a Long Island Railroad car to spend summer weekends with his parents. On one such trip a muffled siren began to blare. I turned to Steve and shouted, “Sounds like someone’s portable smoke alarm . . . → Read More: BYO I’ll give you a moment to digest what it is like for a worrywart to write a book. Try to imagine all there is to worry about. . . . → Read More: Writing-a-Book Worries Recently I wrote a piece called Easy Meditation, in which I shared a method I heard about on NPR. On that NPR segment, the author talked about allowing thoughts to pass through your mind like clouds. . . . → Read More: TIPS DAY: MOMENT OF WORRY My starter husband Saul and I began dating the week before I entered college; we married after my sophomore year and divorced during my junior year. I emerged from the husband, the garden apartment and the Impala sedan squinting from the sudden brightness of university life. At age twenty, for the first time ever, I . . . → Read More: DIZZY: LIVING WITH MY BOYFRIEND, CIRCA 1967 I have a record of attraction to worn things. Before Kindle, back when I read paperback books, they appealed to me far more after I roughed them up with: dog-ears, notes in the margins and swollen pages from the times I read them in my hot tub. . . . → Read More: OF NEWNESS AND PATINA Casey is healthy, spunky and—at 13 1/2—still learning new tricks, like wagging his tail. Yet today I awoke vocalizing a name for my next dog. . . . → Read More: A BOY CALLED SCARLET? It’s a common occurrence in New York and other cities. You put your key in the lock of your apartment building and someone is about to follow you inside. What do you do? Usually in the interest of security I ask if the person lives there and then request they use their own key . . . → Read More: WRITER + ENCOUNTER WITH STRANGER = STORY My New Year’s resolution is to learn how to play Angry Birds.
But an essay in the New York Times suggests that daydreaming increases creativity. Daydreaming requires time, time I dump into playing Words With Friends.
Words With Friends, though, is more than just words. It’s confirmation that my sister, . . . → Read More: WORDS WITH FRIENDS Marathon women a decade hence On an ordinary afternoon in 1998, Eliza, my sixteen-year-old daughter, plopped her backpack at my feet, waved a brochure so close it grazed my nose and declared, “I’m signing up for the Marine Corps Marathon. I’ll be running with a group that raises money for AIDS and trains Sunday . . . → Read More: MARATHON WOMEN When I, always the initiator, smile at a stranger and the stranger smiles back, it puts a musical note in my step. Or in my pedal, as was the case on Christmas Eve day. I was on a long bike ride from New Jersey to Staten Island and, when a driver stopped to allow me to . . . → Read More: SMILING STRANGERS In my post My Year of Blogging, I noted that writing personal essays involves catching yourself in the act of thinking and then exposing and exploring it on the page. Here’s something I do every single day, and it was not until this morning that I caught it in my consciousness as something to write . . . → Read More: CATCHING MYSELF IN A DAILY THOUGHT: WHICH UNDERWEAR TO WEAR ‘Tis the season to obsess . . . about gifts. For someone like me, who gets overwhelmed by choices, and–even when the options are narrowed to two–can’t decide, this can be a hard time of year. So I resort to creative gift-giving, like ice cream sodas for the third night of Hanukkah. Making placemats for . . . → Read More: ANXIETY ABOUT GIFTS: GIVING & GETTING At heart, I’m as much a salesperson as a writer. In 1978, I was recognized by Merrill Lynch for ranking second in opening new accounts among their first-year stockbrokers. During my next career, back in the days of print, selling my essays was harder. Some of my articles received a dozen or more rejections before getting . . . → Read More: IT’S 3 A.M. & THERE’S AN EMAIL: TALE OF A BLOGGING LIFE I needed an antidote to worry this weekend, when my bike got a flat tire and then my car wouldn’t start. So here is the latest in my Antidote to Worry Series of food photos and such. Here’s how I compose this satisfying crunchy salad: A base of arugula Trader Joe’s Healthy 8 chopped veggie . . . → Read More: ANTIDOTE TO WORRY: CRUNCHY SALAD Is it a worrywart trait to seek pleasure on the highest plane? To always be wondering whether–no matter how good something is–it could be better? That’s how it is with me and eating. It’s a similar quest with family time. When I hear about a family who acts out Shakespeare together or who is always . . . → Read More: IN SEARCH OF THE ART OF EATING, TECHNIQUE-WISE If our family were contestants on a TV know-your-family game show, and the emcee were to ask, “Who is least likely to be a pest?” we would all shout “Emy!” The rest of us can be annoying, not least of all yours truly, but never Emy. 3 a-door-bell kids When my three daughters were little, . . . → Read More: IN SEARCH OF JOLLY GEORGE: OUR FAMILY GLOSSARY While shops experience brisker business on weekends, blog traffic slows, at least mine does. So I’m posting this shortie today, hoping for weekend visitors. What I’m about to write is one of those things I wouldn’t give a second thought to, were I not examining myself all the time for the very gaggle of . . . → Read More: HOARDING WATER LIKE CHICKEN SOUP 1955 After a swallow of dinner, I dirty my face with burnt cork and, on my shoulder, rest a broomstick with a bundle of rags tied to its end. I then prepare for the battle with my mom over not wearing a coat. I step into the hallowed night, wondering which house has the apples . . . → Read More: HALLOWEEN HARDSHIPS |
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