Here's something important: getting up. Get. Up. That's how I say it to myself, sometimes. Actually, that's almost always how I say it to myself, sometimes aloud, especially during the school year. Get. Up. Jennifer. Do it now. I say this to myself when it is still dark outside and the alarm has gone off, … Continue reading The gift of melancholy.
Here's what I know about careening toward 50, the age I will reach in less than a month: You walk by a mirror and wonder just who the hell put an old lady costume on your 36-year-old self. If you are one of the handful of readers for whom 30 is a distant, looming part … Continue reading Stardust and princess slippers.