An Open Letter to a Late Stage Incel 

I hear you, sitting in your room, typing furiously away about how lonely you are and how angry it makes you that, for some unexplained reason, women don’t find you companionable.

I mean, instead of looking hard at yourself and your behavior, your borderline social retardation, your obsessive compulsive mania, it’s just easier to find someone else to blame.

The Zen of Death Cleaning | Part 2

I stayed in the house by myself. I don’t mind being by myself for long periods of time. I didn’t wear makeup or a bra, since no one would see me. I could have walked outside, but there’s nowhere to walk to, no Walgreens or Starbucks or friendly neighborhood bar with local bands playing or an open mic night. I’m eating through the frozen food in the freezer, Stouffer’s, Trader Joe’s, etc. and drinking the booze, and thank goodness there’s some good booze.

My Grandmother’s Death Presents a Journalistic Regret and a Literary Goldmine

When my grandmother, Joyce Himmel, died on May 11, it marked the end of a very long era. She was just two-and-a-half weeks shy of turning ninety-five. She wasn’t sick, really. A near perfect picture of health and resilience for the better part of a century, in the final minutes of the fourth quarter, her heart just wore out. It was quick and peaceful. Hard to complain about. She had a long and happy and thrilling life.

I could say more, so much more, but this isn’t about Nonny as much as its about her book club.

I Believe… [Pride Should Be Justified]

…that one should demonstrate pride in something accomplished rather than mere existence. Thus, Gay Pride (because of the accomplishments over generations of stigma) and not Straight Pride (because what the fuck did we have to overcome except the lazy task of consistent acceptance?). I mean, I’m straight but I can’t say it’s necessarily anything to be proud of.

Long Train Running: A Chicago Marathon Story | Chapter 1 — Ready, Set, Ouch

What was I thinking?

I’m running the Bank of America Chicago Marathon. Why? Because I’m forty. Because I haven’t run a marathon before. Because I need an excuse to get off my writer’s ass and move so I can live long enough to not die. Because I believe in the mission of Gilda’s Club Chicago and fundraising by running seems to be a pretty great way to get money out of your friends and family. So I am running as a member of Team Gilda.

But my god, I’m behind the ball on this.