When I got married almost fourteen years ago my husband and I honeymooned in Thailand. After the prerequisite stop in Bangkok, we ended up on the tiny island of Koh Samui where we saw other equally enamored tourists sweating their way through their first days of matrimony on bicycle rentals, something that may have seemed a good idea in their brochure back in Hackensack, but trust me, in the humidity and heat of Thailand, was not fun.

Mr. and Mrs. Martinez (you know, these were the days when I practiced saying Mrs. Martinez, Mrs. Martinez, Mrs. Martinez in giddy gulps of newness) thought otherwise and rented a motorcycle. It was nothing fancy, we aren’t Harley-types, but rather a dusty red Yamaha dirt bike that we used to zoom along the narrow and crazy island streets, exploring each new …Read on

A couple of posts ago I declared I’d be focusing on fruits and veggies over the summer.  I’ve been sweating a bit voraciously ever since I said that.  Don’t get me wrong:  I dig fruits and vegetables.  But I have a hard time with planning and commitment.  Such announcements always bite me in the butt.  I know the scheduling goddesses that created the concept did so in efforts to relieve stress and remove chaos, but in my warped head, it seems to invite the two.

Night after night vegetables and fruit have bounced in my psyche.  Florida has already nose-dived into disgustingly humid weather and apocalyptic afternoon thunderstorms, typical summer behavior, so, of course, I have tomatoes, the cliché of summer produce, bopping my eyes in REM sleep.  Plum, roma, teeny, tiny grape ones, distorted and now-overly …Read on

It was a cramped quarter, roughly half the size of my bathroom at home, but nevertheless, it was one of the more desired spaces in the office because it had a window view.
As my boss led me to my new abode I felt a hushed envy rush over those poor souls I was passing by who were subjected to the dark grayness of a corridor cubicle. I had only worked there for several months and already I was being granted the coveted corner cubicle.
They barely knew me, but they hated me for my undeserving sunlight.
“This is where you will work now”, my supervisor offered in her quick, chirpy voice.
I quietly gloated at the view.
From the tenth floor, the Florida rays easily flushed over my future workspace, and, although the flat terrain did not offer much if you weren’t facing the …Read on

The other day my cell phone rang while driving in the car. It was my sister-in-law checking in from her home for our weekly updates. “Where are you?” she asked innocently, completely unaware of how I was about to spoil her day.”I’m in my car (pause), on the way to the beach (bigger pause), for a picnic” (cut-the-air-with-a-knife pause).Now, I love my sister-in-law. Not only is she one of the few sane, grounded members in my husband’s family, she is a really nice, sane, grounded member whose company I greatly enjoy. Over the years we have become, not just family, but close friends. Still, I’d be lying if I’d say I don’t get a teensy bit of pleasure out of doing this to her. You see, she lives in Omaha, Nebraska.Don’t get me wrong: …Read on

It all started simply enough, as, I suppose these things usually do and then quickly and sloppily exploded into its own life force, as, I suppose, these things usually do. A subtle vibrating of my cell phone and that was it. I was lost, irrevocably, hopelessly lost. Only I didn’t know it yet. Up until then my cell phone had only been for, obtusely enough, phone calls. I stared at its tiny frame in complete confusion. Was that a missed voicemail message? Did I change my ring tone? The unfamiliar noise gently prodded me to poke around the menu of my ancient Nokia to see what else lay within its neglected screen. The icons glistened with excitement as my clumsy fingers roughly navigated over them in a desperate attempt to solve the …Read on