is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011 Seems like everybody’s got a price,
I wonder how they sleep at night.
When the tale comes first,
And the truth comes second,
Just stop, for a minute and
Smile
Why is everybody so serious!
Acting so damn mysterious
You got your shades on your eyes
And your heels so high
That you can’t even have a good time.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011 "I can't believe I am all these ages and have lived all these years. I feel like I was just born."
That's what he told me -- earnestly -- the night before he leapt into seven. It was just after I told him the story of his birth, as I always do on the eve of his birthday and as my mother always does on the eve of mine.
"The day you were born was the happiest day of my whole life," I said, just as earnestly.
"It was?! Even with all the great and happy times we've had together?"
"Oh, yes. Because it was the first one," I kissed his forehead. "It's what got all of those happy times started."
Monday, September 19, 2011
They are my favorite flower, hydrangeas. I adore them when the petals are a rich, steely blue. I gasp when I happen upon a bouquet painted in pinks ranging from faded to intense. I love single stems of white hydrangeas standing stoicly in a vase, commanding attention in the middle of a huge table. These, smeared with the palest blue and yellow look like summer clouds or, at some angles, a swarm of butterflies. It's dreamy to describe them this way, but isn't how flowers, especially those you choose carefully, pay money for, place carefully around your home where you will wake up or glance away from your screen or rest your eyes and see them?
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