http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/02/29/ricin.hotel/index.html Like most 20 somethings I had a lot of hobbies, but only a few stuck with me into my 30s: dance, theater, The X-Files, my love of chick lit and all things Ben and/or Jerry – and my complete fascination with epidemiology and written accounts of biological and chemical warfare. You know, typical girlie
WelcomeFirst off, I have to give a big welcome to the more than 6,000 people who have stopped by the blogspot site since Saturday. Please picture me waving to you all. That’s about um… 5,980 more than normally visit. Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration, but still it was a quite a pleasant surprise. Generally, this
As I’m sure was the case for many of the people who attended the festivities over the weekend, coming back to real life proved fairly difficult. I was completely unmotivated to come back to work—actually, I was completely unmotivated to get out of bed. Maybe it is a sign I need to do more unexpected
There comes a time in every young woman’s life (ok, relatively young… slightly still young… remembers what youth was like…vaguely) where she looks around and says “this is it?” I’ve come to this point on more than one occasion. In fact, I seem to come to it every 5 years. Clearly, there is some level
God bless Time Magazine.
I could be in trouble. I might be adding a new television program to my line-up. New Amsterdam hasn’t aired yet, but I’m already a little enamored with the chiseled jawed leading man. The premise is tailor made for a hopeless romantic wrapped in a tight cynical shell—he is immortal until he finds “the one”
I realize that I’ve indicated before that I would prefer to return to a more civilized time of dating—where a gentleman caller left his intention to speak to you with an engraved card on a silver tray rather than yelling outside your window “Yo, am I gonna hit dat or what?” I’m really not that
I just heard a story on the Kevin and Bean radio show about an interview they are going to do with a detective agency. Apparently, Valentine’s Day is their busiest time of year. I am now giggling, and I’m not sure I can stop. Nothing says love like jealousy, photographic evidence and revenge. I’m just
I know what you are expecting. You are expecting me to rage against the darkest, most evil of all holidays… President’s Day. Kidding. Clearly, I am referring to Valentine’s Day. You know—the one that is constantly inspiring insipid commercials about releasing your inner cupid. Every year in my “single” history, I’ve battled the holiday by
“Does Clutter Make My Butt Look Fat?” I’m not a frequent Oprah viewer, but today’s episode was too fascinating not to share. I was home nursing what appears to be my first cold of the new year (yehaw), and I caught the clutter tag line. Essentially, Peter Walsh posits that the clutter in your home