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When my friend Joan asked if I was excited about my birthday I said, oh yes, so much so, I’m draping black crepe along the windows like when Lincoln died. Excuse me while I start on the mirrors. It’s not … Continue reading
Well, for someone who truly didn’t want to celebrate, I was feted like a queen, all with things I love: books, flowers, a Panera card, Oreos and money along with a mezuzah for my front door. Yes, a shiksa with … Continue reading
When did birthdays become so bleak? Mine is approaching and I’m thinking of holding a wake. Sitting Shiva might even be better since it goes on for a week. Another reason to want to be Jewish. When I was small, … Continue reading
I haven’t written about my glamorous pal lately, because I haven’t seen her, not since becoming besotted with a Cuban named Edmundo. It’s a pity when women get involved with a man, how they abandon everything else, like a heroin … Continue reading
It’s the latest genre of behavior going around, and it’s not pretty. People who go through life cut and parrying when you’re not even carrying a sword. It’s a pity a preventable shot wasn’t available. A guy I know in … Continue reading
When you’re my age, you do try to play your birthday down, but sometimes there’s an unexpected sniper shooting, with candles. I’m in Panera at 6 a.m. on a normal Saturday sprawled in my favorite back booth when suddenly four … Continue reading
When do birthdays cease being celebrations…when does one turn that, no more lampshades on your head, light off? (hey, at least it’s Tiffany). Camille and I had a huge fight over giving me a party. I cut her off … Continue reading