I’m a terrible feminist. On Saturday I got pulled over for speeding. The nice state trooper, who was all of twelve, (really – when did they start deputizing pre-pubescent boys?) attempted a surreptitious look down my shirt. When he realized he was busted, he turned a rather lovely shade of fuchsia.  I’m pretty sure if … More Busted

When Enthusiasm is Too Much

I had the delightful occasion to have dinner with some dear friends over the weekend. We’ll call them Stacy and Wilson. (If you’ve been reading along, you know the pseudonym game.)  Joining the revelry were Stacy’s uncle David, his partner Manuel and Manuel’s brother Paco, who were visiting from Mexico.


I had absolutely no plans for the holiday weekend. I’m on a stringent budget at the moment, saving my pennies for travelling to Europe in August. I figured I’d run, read, tie up some loose ends, and essentially lounge around home for the weekend. Then the phone rang Thursday afternoon.