Apr

2013

This Is How You Dance

Last week, my friend Anna emailed me to tell me that her parents were cleaning out their house in Hong Kong and had sent her two large boxes of her stuff to sort out. Because I have known Anna since 1987—which is the longest I have known any of my friends and, actually, anyone who is not technically a family member—I was fairly sure I knew where she was going with this, and I was right.

"Pretty much everything in those boxes," she said, "is a letter from you."

Mar

18

2013

Stretch Goals

On Sunday afternoon, my cat brought a mouse into the house, which sounds really hilarious and Seussian, I know, but which was in fact totally disgusting.

Feb

17

2013

For A Good Time Call...

The other day I went to the Safeway near my house to get some last minute ingredients for the chocolate mousse I wanted to make Sean for Valentine's Day. I have known Sean for almost seventeen years, and I only recently found out that one of his favorite desserts is chocolate mousse, which struck me as funny for some reason, because it just seems so....so....I don't know, so eighties. Oh hey, want a slap wrap with that chocolate mousse? Should we eat it while we watch Alf? I'll wear my jelly shoes if you wear your hypercolor t-shirt!

Jan

30

2013

On The Road Again

You may remember that I have a little bit of a thing about driving. The "thing," to be more specific, is that I hate it. Or I guess just fear it, whatever, same difference.

Oct

18

2012

Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Really Understand What's Happening

Sep

19

2012

Let Me Name Your Babies

One of the things that never fails to crack me up is remembering a conversation my brother Luke once had with a customer service representative. When she asked him how he was doing, in that polite but rote way customer service representatives have of asking you things, he somehow got supremely flustered—in what I can only imagine was the sort of bumbling Englishman stereotype for which we have good old Hugh Grant to thank—and ended up conflating "not so bad" and "pretty well."

Jun

04

2012

Consider This A Placeholder Until My Mental Faculties Have Returned

So I thought I should probably pop in and say that no, I'm not dead, I've just been in London.

Apr

09

2012

Play Ball

I have made a terrible trade. Back when we started driving to work together, Sean and I came to an agreement which—now that I think about it—we came to way too easily for him not to have plotted it sneakily in advance. The agreement was this: in the mornings, I would decide what we listened to on the stereo. In the evenings, it would be his choice.

Mar

01

2012

It's Our Problem-Free Philosophy

I say "no worries" far too often. I'm not sure where I picked up this decidedly Antipodean affectation, but I can't stop saying it. Actually, I do know where I picked it up; I picked it up from Sean, a guy who's so laidback, it takes him two hours to watch 60 Minutes. (I wish I could claim that joke as my own, but I'm quoting the great Bob Dylan.)

Feb

06

2012

Rocky Mountain Hi

They tell you marriage is hard. They tell you it involves sacrifice and compromise. And this weekend, Internet, I found out just how true that all is. I agreed to arrive at the Denver airport five hours early so that my husband could watch the Superbowl.

Did you hear me? Five hours early? At the airport? So I could sit in a mediocre sports bar and nurse a watery beer over my Oprah magazine while barrel-chested men bumped fists around me? I'll take that medal engraved with my full name, thank you.