You discard the page of another month. It dribbles into the wide mouth of a dustbin. Time has been fickle. Little accomplished. You throw your empty cup in there too. Paper days and empty cups are for burning. Sometimes looking to the sky is no...

America smells like cinnamon.  Its flags fly from front verandas.  It smells like snow and hot chocolate on a sidewalk in the dark.  America smells expensive like Clinique's Happy. Its Wednesday afternoons let the sun hang low...

Excuse me, can I have a little privacy please? No. Because you're in p-u-b-l-i-c. That's how the system works. As it turns out, there's no privacy in public. In fact, your privacy is invading our public. Why don't you go somewhere else so we can have...

These words by Erma Bombeck come so close to describing the dynamics in my household that I have to share them: "The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's...

beauty... is overrated I'll never stop... silently loving those I once loved out loud laughter... can be powerful crying... shouldn't be reserved for movies my bra-size... doesn't matter my job... has potential when I'm driving... I need to relax I...