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My short hair style was too severe. I was a nervous wreck. I grasped onto the edge of the bar as if it was my very last hope to stay afloat. A year later to the day, my hair is long and blond and straight. I am still a nervous wreck, but I understand more…

“Today is my birthday you know,” said Hank, an older gentleman and regular at my beach bar. “Seriously?” I asked. I had been nursing my glass of wine, chatting with the cast of regulars, including Hank, and this was the first mention he’d made of it being his birthday. “Did you know it was Hank’s…

“Hey man, visitors,” said the one Starbucks worker to the other. The other laughed, but didn’t turn around. We were the only customers. No one in front of us. No one behind us. I was in D.C. with RG Daughter, and after a long day, we were tired and desperate for caffeine. “Seriously, man. Customers!”…

The three were beautiful people, you could just tell. A stylishly thin, elegant woman in her late 50s, work done on her face, for sure, but almost good enough not to be obvious. Her highlighted blonde hair only showed the merest streak of uncolored gray, which, in a way, provided natural highlights. An animated but…

“Are you here alone?” asks the chef who works aboard a zillion-foot-long and equal amount of money’s-worth yacht. I have never seen this yacht nor met the owner, nor will I ever. But I do know that this chef has a staff that includes two sous chefs. As boat jobs go, I am guessing this…

One of my best blog friends and readers, Kim Ayres, has asked to see photos of the escapades of me and my girlfriends during our “spring break.” Sorry, Kim. Those photos will remain forever locked away on my computer. However, here’s a couple of shots of how the pup felt after a night out with…

“I got us the last reservation,” RG Daughter told me. “It’s earlier than we normally go out, but this place is supposed to be amazing.” I have been in Colorado for the past few days, a quick trip west to celebrate RG Daughter’s birthday. Amazing restaurant, eh? Of late, I have learned I have to…

I love Tina Turner–her music, her talent, her story, her strength in the face of so much that challenged it, her ability to craft and embrace her stage personality while always knowing and being who she really is off stage. No matter the depths of her sadness and despair. No matter her self doubts. No…

I watched someone have fun at work last night–the kind of fun that is also fraught with headaches, because that’s the kind of fun you have at work when it’s your own place. He had fun even as he had to patiently explain things more than once to his cadre of new hires. Even as…