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Killing it in the Kitchen

“Show me your spatula,” ordered my friend Hildie as she stood in my kitchen with her hands on her hips. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” I replied. “Show me your spatula,” she repeated, ignoring me. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I know you well enough to share something so personal,” I responded. She reached…

Real Women Don't Wear Tankinis

This year, I worked hard to drop a few pounds over the winter so that when spring arrived, I wouldn’t have to face my annual swimwear terror attack. Honestly, I find shark-infested waters less scary than trying on bathing suits.  Bungee jumping?  Piece of cake.  Wrestling alligators?  Not a problem.  Standing half-naked in front of a three-way mirror when I…

Steve Carell and the Case of the Giant Chicken

Our New York City vacation did not necessarily include a shoe shopping expedition.  But when I saw the sparkly, black leather platform booties in the widow, I knew they had to be mine. Although I am usually fairly immune to these SOSUs (Sudden Onset Shoe Urges), I felt my resolve dissolve when the shoe salesman told me the manufacturer only…