Diary of a Diva

Ghostly Remnants

My ten-year high-school reunion was much like a paper cut: I wondered how it had come to be, I suffered through the discomfort, and, once it was over, I was quick to forget it. David, at

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Watch the Damn Movie

My trepidation intensified with each mile of freeway. I sighed in David’s direction once, twice, then sighed a third time, and he finally asked me what was up. “What if they’re talkers? Talkers are the worst,”

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My Sudden Torment

“What are you going to do today?” It was a simple question. It begged for a simple response, something positive, something short, along the lines of how one might answer — at least in polite society

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Sights Not Unseen (like Butt Sharpies)

“Did you go down another rabbit hole?” I lifted my gaze to peer over my laptop screen at David, who was smirking down at me. He sighed, and then ever so slightly turned his head to

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Birthday Boil

We were using the mirror on the wall to take a group selfie when Brisa, the spa director, arrived with the mimosas. Brisa handed me, Jane, and Heather our drinks and had just turned to hand

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Lord of the Prize

Simon had to turn sideways in order to fit the freakish creature through the front door of my mother’s house. All the kids were in the backyard, so Simon — my sister Jane’s husband — swiftly

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Tic Tact

I leaned forward to retrieve my phone from my purse and felt a watery trickle making its way down my right nostril. I jerked my head back, sniffed mightily, and smiled a little too wide at

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Ever After, a Study on Divorce

  Divorce. There are few words I can think of that are more onerous. It seems appropriate that it begins with the letter D, just like the handful of words it reminds me of: doom, despair,

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Move On

I could feel my left eyelid twitching — subtle spasms that were most likely the result of my straining to resist rolling my eyes. I wondered if Chris could perceive the twitch; if he’d somehow determine

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Santa Fe or Scandinavia?

  I sighed and then held up my phone so David could see the image of the castle I’d been ogling. “I love that Stephanie is posting pics of all her adventures,” I said. Steph, my

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