NYC Big Book Award honors Susan Goldfein by selecting How Old Am I in Dog Years.... as the 2017 winner in the Humor category. Susan commented, "I am beyond proud to announce that I have been awarded the best Comedy book for NYC's Big Book Awards! Thank you to all you crazy fans for the continued support, I
Recently, I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to kissing. In fact, I believe it’s becoming a mild, and hopefully temporary, obsession. The type of kissing to which I’m referring is not the romantic, erotic “French” kiss (yes, I still remember those), but the less passionate and tongueless social kiss. I’m fairly certain that
I hate lunch. It is definitely my least favorite meal of the day. And by far the most boring. And also disruptive, much like an intermission during a play. Which I also hate. Not the play. The intermission. I frequently choose to skip it altogether. The lunch meal, not the play. I have read that
I am not, by nature, a competitive person. If I even so much as win at a game of Scrabble, my inclination is to leap over the board, hug the loser, and say "sorry." Yet, each morning, upon opening my eyes, I find myself engaged in a verbal duel. I'm not exactly sure when this
I don't have a bucket list. There, I said it. I hope this confession will not strip away my senior citizen discounts. After all, it has taken me years to get here and I deserve to ride for half-fare. But it had to be said. Even if I risk losing my benefits. Having reached a
Since becoming a "woman of a certain age" September has taken on a whole new meaning. I'm reminded of this as I sit at my desk, which suddenly has become strewn with postcards I've received from the medical community reminding me that it's once again time to check in for a check-up. I commented on
As far as I'm concerned, "productive" should be a four-letter word. I say this because, like other four-letter words, it's a curse. Or can be, when one has become so accustomed to ''doing" that sitting still for more than three minutes at a stretch is proof positive that you're a lazy, therefore unworthy, member of
I am in recupery. To describe my present condition as "recovery" gives the impression that I've entered a 12-step program. Which I haven't. Although I wouldn't object to attending AA meetings provided they were held anywhere that was not my living room. As you know, if you were paying attention (see essay posted on July
I apologize for the fact that I’m late in delivering this new post. That is, if anyone even noticed that I’m a few days past my deadline. Five to be exact, if you happen to mark your calendar. Which I highly doubt. But that’s okay. I don’t mind my usual timeliness being taken for granted.
Dear Diary: I have to confess that what I’m about to do feels very weird indeed. I haven’t written in a diary since I was a love-sick teenager, age 13. It was the summer that my first boyfriend Joey dumped me for my best friend, Joanie. Perhaps the alliterative sound of Joey and Joanie was
