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Diary of a Diva
Craic Addicts
Craic (crack) — a term for fun, entertainment, and enjoyable conversation, particularly prominent in Ireland. After suggesting we all meet at around 8 or 8:30 for breakfast, Dad confirmed the rendezvous for 8:15. His decision to
One Terrific Pig
How about “Pig Supreme?” asked one of the lambs. “No good,” said Charlotte. “It sounds like a rich dessert.” — E. B. White When my friend Sara announced the impending arrival of her new pet —
Party Patrol
I’m anal retentive. I’m a workaholic. I have insomnia. And I’m a control freak. That’s why I’m not married. Who could stand me? — Madonna Few things get past me at parties. I am a multitasking
No Better Feeling
Oh, the summer night/ Has a smile of light/ And she sits on a sapphire throne. — Barry Cornwall It had been a lackluster evening. Our waiter was unnaturally perky. The bare-wood acoustics made for stunted
Seismic Sensation
We learn geology the morning after the earthquake. — Ralph Waldo Emerson I felt the tremor in my feet before I heard the familiar groan in the walls — my home bracing itself for a shake. Pre-tremble creak
Guilty Pleasure
Show me a woman who doesn’t feel guilty and I’ll show you a man. — Erica Jong The phone rang. I grabbed the receiver, glanced across the counter at David, and said, “Two guesses.” “Don’t need
Suburban Dream
Towered cities please us then,/ And the busy hum of men. — John Milton The flags marked the transition from one kingdom to the next. I knew the meaning of all the colors and symbols in
Bubble o’ Trouble
Driving a brand-new car feels like driving around in an open billfold with the dollars flapping by your ears as they fly out the window. — Grey Livingston I led the uniformed man around the hood
The Chat Locker
On this shrunken globe, men can no longer live as strangers. — Adlai E. Stevenson People think time is fixed, an immutable truth like the laws of mass and energy. They’re wrong. Seven days of vacation
Raising the Bar
Why don’t you slip out of those wet clothes and into a dry martini? — Robert Benchley Cocktail at Death & Co. “M and H. This must be it,” I said, stopping before an unlit gray
