I’ve been told twice in my life now that I look like a heroine of a horror film. I thought it was a coincidence, but it just dawned on me that I love to say (and mean) that if I was in a horror flick I’d be the last one surviving (due to my paranormal intuition, scrappy spirit and dumb luck). Perhaps this is a reoccurring thread in my life. So I figured I may as well do a blog post on it. I have a love/hate relationship with horror and psychological thrillers, but mostly love

Sequels naturally get a bad rep. But then again, so do women in their forties. I’m not there yet but unless something happens, it’s coming for me. Like it or not. In the meantime, here’s my take on some big sequels from the past year: Wicked 2 and Devil Wears Prada 2 Let’s start with chronological order, though there’s nothing chronological about me. So, Wicked 2. Modern day. I loved the play. But I also love Ariana Grande. She was epic in both, but some say she salvaged the

"Watch your back," a head chef said to me, when I was cutting and rolling dough. It was a literal statement. At my back was flame, slashing knives, and people running by with heavy loads and fragile glassware. But since it was spoken to me in a kind way (by a guy who I was once told wanted me fired), I took it to heart, choosing to believe he meant it sentimentally as well. One does have to watch their back in the restaurant industry, where chisme (gossip) spreads like wild

“Romance is not limited to relationships!” She said, with gusto. Though she claims it was spoken with a cool aloofness. We were sojourning at the cemetery on a Sunday, after a delicious home cooked brunch in our formerly shared kitchen. Needless to say we were in good spirits, quite literally. I had wanted to come to mt. auburn cemetery while cherry blossom trees are still in bloom, but as my adventures with Anitah typically go, we wound our way there unintentionally. The sh

Picture this. Your existence, and everything you’ve worked for, ceases to matter. Maybe for a week you’ll be a celebrity. And then… I know I’m a satirical writer but I promise this isn’t a satirical thought. In fact, it brings me much sadness. Nor do I think it’s true. But it does feel that way sometimes. After getting hit by a car, my existentialism has gone up like stocks after 2009. Woof. I can’t quite make sense of the car accident. To be honest I had no fault in the mat

I’ve known many people in their twenties that want to rush through them to get to a more confident place. Hell, at one point I was one of them. But I find this funny. ‘Cause everyone else seems to be obsessed with young people. Obvious examples: Olympics, Hollywood. Even in more “normal life,” I hear wind of this quite a bit. I’ll pass tables all the time in the restaurant I work in, of middle aged people discussing cool spots and describing them as where “all the young pe

The other day I got off work at about 1 in the morning (on a Tuesday)! But before heading home and after the DJ left, I needed a beat to complete closing tasks to. I placed my phone on the work station and blared whatever was queued, which happened to be early 2000s music. As Cheerleader by OMI played, coworkers around me started to vibe. I had intended it just for me, but didn’t want to isolate myself by using headphones. Quite the opposite happened. There was whistling,

What’s the difference between narcissism and self-belief?? These days I think the line between them is more like a balance beam than a tight rope. But for a while I believed the latter, and found that to be very limiting. My first novel required about 1000 revisions but as of late the main ingredient missing was belief. That little old me could write a legit novel. I couldn’t imagine trying to pitch it to agents cause to be honest I didn’t think I was author material. But w

“But you’re beautiful,” she says. “Why are you alone in a bar on a weekday?” The restaurant industry, I wanted to say. But settled on the classic. “Men suck.” “Oh don’t I know it!” She said. “We were just about to sign a lease when he broke up with me. We’d been dating for a year. That’s why I’m here.” “That’s crazy,” I said, seeing my cue to leave. My Guinness was empty, AKA time for me to walk the 15 yards back? Why did I feel a need to stop at an Irish dive bar on my way

Here’s why I think astrology is not bogus: If the position of stars and planets affects every other part of earth, why wouldn’t it affect us? Are we not part of Earth? Time is circular, seasons are circular, and so are our zodiacs. Not to say every little horoscope isn’t complete bs, but hey if you have fun with it what’s the problem? I woke up inspired to do a different blog post vybe. I’m going to pair my extensive astrology knowledge with my limited astronomy knowledge and

I’ve always been drawn to cemeteries. This could be viewed as ironic considering I’d never want to be buried. With severe restless legs and claustrophobia, it was never going to happen. But I’ll run through them, take dates there, and now, for the second year in a row, work at one. And though every cemetery is special, this one happens to be magnificent. It is Mt. Auburn Cemetery, hosting their seasonal Solstice event. Be warned: I will professionally field any jokes thrown

Sometimes I think there’s no such thing as the “real world.” Upon reflection, every stage of my life I felt on a precipice. When I was a kid, going to high school and getting my driver’s license seemed like a monumental turning point. When I gazed out at neighbors going to prom, they seemed so “adult” to me, and posh. Come high school, I did not feel adult or posh. College became the turning point. Then it was graduating college. Then grad school. Then getting my profession

Life isn’t a game show. But there are alliances everywhere. I was very uncool for a lot of my life. I think it suited me, flying under the radar. In laser tag I always loved being independent. Win or lose it just felt better, being free. How was I uncool? Because I was blissfully unaware of what I was supposed to be doing. I find knowing weirdly makes it even harder. To go against the grain. Or have an experience that can’t be measured. Losing such an amazing friend to an ove

I met a 60 year old woman the other day who could’ve easily passed for 40. I was at a bar with a housemate, and she was on my other side. I am not an extrovert and don’t typically mingle with strangers unless I have to. She caught my attention when she started telling the bartender about her first records (all rock and roll). When my housemate went to use the bathroom, I turned to her. She told me she was waiting for her date, a pilot flying into Boston from Switzerland for

I wish I had some cool bruise. Instead I just have what looks like a shadowy rash near my right cheekbone. And a newly asymmetrical smile. I heard recently that you can’t write (well) about fresh wounds. You can only write about scars. So I didn’t want to write anything other than esoteric poetry about the incident that happened in Philly. That, and I don’t fully understand what happened. But, truthfully? All memories are fickle. And since this one already started out so haz

When I was in college, one of my good friends often repeated the phrase, “Safety never takes a vacation.” Though I didn’t take it...

Last night I had a dream. A dream that, like a Hallmark Christmas movie, I reacquainted with my first boyfriend and found it to be...

It’s funny. All the responses I get when I say I want to be single. “You’re afraid to fall in love.” “It’s not so bad.” “You’re lying to...

A On my mind you will stay I can’t hide From the pain So Ill linger In the zen You took me to places I’d never been Remember when we...

I’d like to forget about the day I texted a friend to say that I was being held hostage in an Urgent Care. I’d like to forget about it because I missed most of my good friend’s wedding, an event I can never get back. I’d like to forget about it because I probably traumatized half of my family, something I can never undo. I’d like to forget about it because I disappointed myself immensely. All because I took a pill. A pill that I can never unswallow. I buried this memory