My New Website

I'm a real rabbit now!

" ," she wheezed agedly

Tomorrow I turn 40, and I think it might be time to put this poor mere shell of a blog to rest. I've got a novel coming out in a few months, so maybe I ought to have a proper website or something. I shall ponder...

My Teen Angel

Today is my eldest daughter's 16th birthday.

In the past three years, little V. has aged three years, whereas I have grown decrepit exponentially and am now 144 years old.

For the first couple of teenage years, when she told me I was to blame for everything, I believed her. Now I don't, and I feel much better. Someone told me this time is designed to enable parents to let go of their children when the time comes, because the kids are so darned obnoxious.

She was an adorable baby, a delightful toddler, a wonderful child. Now she's beautiful, intelligent, and tortured as hell. I'm sooo ready for the next phase.

If Disco Fever Is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right

I have been unemployed for seven weeks now, and yet somehow I just don't care. I went through the agony of losing a job I loved (unexpected "restructuring" is the absolute best), the depression of wondering whether my career is over thanks to this sudden brick wall, and the identity crisis inherent in not being "editor for the Blah Blah Institute at Blah University" anymore. But I'm over it. Now I'm just waiting to see how my life's gonna turn out.

I grow weary of this provincial lifestyle, anyways. I told my husband I wish I could be a New York socialite, go to parties all the time and just dance, dance, dance.

He said, "Yeah, and in a few years you'd be sick, get fat, and die."

And I thought to myself, "Hmph! I would not get fat!" Besides, who cares. I want to dance.