As you may know, I come from very humble beginnings. I was born in a DMV line in Woodstock, Illinois.
Category: Road trips
Hey, Skiing: I Quit
Farewell, you painful, overpriced sport. I'd rather be tied to a horse and dragged through the Century City Mall than put on one more pair of rental ski boots.
California’s Magic Castle
These mountains always fluff me up. I come out of the Eastern Sierra like a big load of cotton sheets, warm and smelling of French butter.
The Hand of God
Personally, I find Vegas a little snoozy, especially compared to real party spots like Pasadena or Glendale.
Public Displays of Affection
I can smell God's socks, no kidding. But the best part is the overview of this enormous stadium. The whole place feels like a Peanuts special.
Our Happy Place
We’d come through Lake Tahoe, up the chalky chowder of highway 89, praying the semis would hold the icy highway.
Thoughts and Prayers, OK?
Honestly, I don’t want to live in a world without print newspapers, journalism’s only link to Shakespeare.
Teaching My Dog to Drive
Dogpark Gary-- always a sage, often an inspiration – explains that we have entered the Age of Frustration.
Lord of the Rings
It was an easy ride to Santa Barbara. You just follow the pumpkin stands along the 126, from Santa Clarita to the sea. Cowboy country.
Smile! It’s the New Normal
Found a wad of Smartacus’ dirty socks under the couch. Not many, 60-70 at most. That turned me into a wistful mom all over again.