Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

I recently discovered that I have been stricken with a strange affliction: I suddenly can’t dance. I’m not saying I was the Second Coming of Michael Jackson or Fred Astaire to begin with, but I had my moves, executed them well, and could mostly avoid snark and condemnation at weddings and clubs. But that has all gone away.

Five Amazing Hacks For That Crappy Wine You Just Bought

Look, it happens to all of us: you find this wine for under ten bucks that looks like it may be a killer bargain, and when you pop that cork you discover you just made an investment in grape-flavored ass juice. No judgment here. Trader Joes’ wine section doesn’t come with a warning sign above …

It’s Two Minute Pony Story Time!

My two little Sunshine Princesses, ages five and seven, regaled me in the car last week with tales of the Zombie Apocalypse. Being a Certified Geek myself, I figured this new obsession with the undead was my doing; that somehow they’d heard me talking about it in the context of my first novel, or while geeking out with friends. That said, knowing that it takes very little to inspire a child’s nightmare, I try to be cognizant of the things that would freak out my kids, and the consumption of human flesh to the point of the world ending is at the top of that list.

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