Shelter in place. I’d never heard those words before yesterday, but now I’ll never forget them.

I’d figured those boys were long gone, pounding beers on some tropical island or cruising unnoticed through the alleyways of some metropolis, with smug smiles and dyed hair.

I’d fig… Read full post »

It was July 20th, 1969. My family crunched together on the couch watching our black-and-white German TV with the sound down. We leaned in close to catch every word on the Armed Forces Network radio broadcast.

Beep. “Roger. Go for landing, over. 3,000 feet.” Beep.

My heart… Read full post »

Thursday marks the 25th anniversary of the crash of Northwest Flight 255 in Detroit. 154 people on board, and two people on the ground, died that day. One survived. Until this morning's segment on The Today Show, Cecelia Cichan has never spoken publicly about the tragedy. This clip is part of… Read full post »

 I remember it happened four years ago, too. And eight years ago. And 12, 20, even 36 [now 40] years ago, when Mark Spitz was the hot, supple-limbed poster boy in Munich. The pageantry and pomp, rabid nationalism, heart-wrenching backstories, and interminable commercials. And I rememb… Read full post »

I sat alone on the floor at the foot of my parents’ bed, staring up at the flickering black-and-white images. The TV was a 12-inch RCA with a green plastic exterior. I loved watching TV, but that Friday my stomach felt upside-down and inside-out. Everything felt different, as if things would… Read full post »

“I take full responsibility and I deeply regret any hurt or pain I might have caused anyone by my actions and indiscretions.”

How manly. How mature. Yes, I’m talking about Anthony Weiner, and the long punch line of men (I really can’t think of an equivalent errant woman) who ha… Read full post »

Not long ago, I purged my bedroom closet. I’d ignored it for many months. Purging is one of those tasks that falls under the “someday” category: “I really should, but not today,” “I’ll get around to it,” “It’s not really interfering with my… Read full post »

It was July 20th, 1969. My family crunched together on the couch watching our black-and-white German TV with the sound down. We leaned in close to catch every word on the Armed Forces Network radio broadcast.

Beep. “Roger. Go for landing, over. 3,000 feet.” Beep.

My heart w… Read full post »

Game shows are in my blood. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to be a contestant. It’s not just a matter of fun and the possibility of prize money that calls me. It’s a fulfillment of my genetic destiny, a quest to uphold the family name. And I’m… Read full post »

Sometimes it’s just too hard to watch the news or read the paper. I like to be informed, but it’s all death, war, fire, catastrophe, chaos, abuse, corruption, stress, stress, stress. I can almost feel the cortisol firing into my arteries.

So I’m shifting my attention to the simple t… Read full post »

I never watched LOST till last night. But with all the hype, I felt compelled to tune in. I watched the first half-hour of the recap, then the last hour of the finale.

So, near as I can figure, this is the recap. Correct me if I’m wrong.

A plane crashes near a… Read full post »

I ran out of trash bags recently and grabbed some new ones at Shaw’s Market. The packaging looked familiar enough—a tightly wound cylinder of 70 white tall kitchen bags with twist ties tucked inside a transparent plastic sack with a yellow border and red lettering.

On the next trash nigh… Read full post »

The last time anything exciting happened in my neighborhood, it was a back-porch fire started by a careless smoker. That was a few years ago. People still talk about it now and then.

So imagine the hubbub today at 6:00 a.m. when the FBI raided a nondescript house two blocks from where… Read full post »

I wasn’t prepared for Auschwitz in color. Somehow I’d pictured the black-and-white scenes from newsreels and history books and Schindler’s List. It wasn’t logical, my vision, but nothing about Auschwitz was logical.

It was July 1999 and I was touring Eastern Europe wi… Read full post »

First you breathe. Not a casual inhale-exhale, there I’m done. Rather, a long, slow, conscious, deep-from-the-belly breath, even counts on the in and out, which, if you’re not accustomed to it, can be a little startling.

You don’t need to be in bed, but it helps. Begin sitting up, b… Read full post »

Whenever the Olympics roll around, I start thinking about the human body. What it can do, what it can’t do, what it’s meant to do, and what it’s most definitely not meant to do. I’m certain the human body is not meant to hurtle down a mountainside at 90 miles per… Read full post »

Catapulted into my first heart-pounding romance after the basketball game on February 17, 1967, I breathed Jon Seeley day and night. We exchanged passionate notes between classes and talked awkwardly on the phone. He almost couldn’t come to my 13th birthday party because he was on restriction,… Read full post »

What could possibly be more angst-filled than seventh grade? Puberty exacting its cruel agenda: passions soaring, pimples sprouting, the wild highs, the darkest depression. (Hmm. Sounds a lot like menopause.)

Here is the second of three installments from my memoir-in-progress, Where Is Luv? A Teenage… Read full post »

Seventh-grade love. Is there anything more wonderful and excruciating?

For better or for worse, I have the evidence to prove it. Among the piles of diaries I still have from my angsty adolescence, perhaps my favorite is from the winter of 1967—a simple, yellow spiral-bound notebook whose front… Read full post »

Sometimes it’s just too hard to watch the news or read the paper. I like to be informed, but it’s all death, war, fire, catastrophe, chaos, abuse, corruption, stress, stress, stress. I can almost feel the cortisol firing into my arteries.

So I’m shifting my attention to the simple t… Read full post »

She was my butterscotch sundae, molten orange, blazing and bold and luscious. Swirls of butterscotch mixed with icy vanilla and hot fudge, deep and dark.

She chased the light and curled into the gray shadows. She breathed against my shoulder and burrowed against my heart. She watched… Read full post »

The half-banana lying on the counter would be a tempting addition to my soy-yogurt lunch. Before slicing it up, I wanted to cut off the browning skin that had formed at its open end. This was a job for my good knife.

In my silverware drawer is a tray filled… Read full post »

I sat alone on the floor at the foot of my parents’ bed, staring up at the flickering black-and-white images. The TV was a 12-inch RCA with a green plastic exterior. I loved watching TV, but that Friday my stomach felt upside-down and inside-out. Everything felt different, as if things would… Read full post »

“Get Rid of Your Anxiety, Find Your Spiritual Path and More!” shouts the headline of Oprah’s weekly online newsletter. It’s one of 23 new emails cluttering my inbox at the end of a long day.

Normally, I ignore these teasers, but you know how it is. You’re tired. You&rsqu… Read full post »