Diary of a Diva
My sister and I clinked glasses filled with chilled wine (hers a straw-colored chardonnay, mine a blushing rosé) and then leaned back in our chairs with stoned smiles. My eyes wandered the expanse of Jane’s …
"Why do you think it’s always boys and never girls who go on these mass-shooting rampages?” I asked David, mostly rhetorically, because I already had my answer. “I think I know why; shooters are mostly …
"You want this?” David held up his buzzing phone so I could see the number displayed on the screen. After weighing the risk of answering an unknown number, I said, “Here, give it to me.” …
I doubted the man of the hour (or century, if you consider we were celebrating his 90th birthday) remembered me. I’d met David’s great-uncle, the Hungarian pianist Béla Síki, only once before, nearly a decade …
David’s phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up and smiled down at the screen. “What’s that?” I asked. “Oh, it’s Kik,” David said. “What? When did you join Kik? I thought you said …
With one step, the air changed from fresh morning cool to middle-of-the-rainforest hot. The atmosphere inside the Reptile House was so thick, I thought if I opened my mouth I’d have to chew in order …
Jane came rushing in like a gust of wind, disrupting the air in the room with her abrupt appearance. As usual, she managed to not miss any surface as she unloaded her many things — …
"Whoa, what is that on your finger?” Shawn reached out to grab Jordan’s hand. “Did you guys get married? What is that, titanium?” Jordan smiled sheepishly and then removed his ring and handed it over …
"Do you have Mexican food in Vancouver? Wait, that’s a stupid question — it’s a city, of course you do,” I said. “But it’s probably not as good as it is here...I mean, not because …
I couldn’t think of two people with more divergent worldviews than my father — a ribald Brooklyn boy turned retired naval officer who runs military war games abroad — and the proper young woman with …
I stood alone in the middle of a long aisle at Party City. I looked left. The only person in sight was the young clerk behind the register. Her face was turned away from me. …
I squeezed the plastic dropper and watched the first tiny glob break away and plummet into the big bowl. The droplet was supposed to slip through the surface of the liquid and end up at …
"So, what do you do at — ” I stole a glance at the name badge on the chest in front of me. “San Diego Story?” “I review music,” said Christian, the man behind the …
When I tell friends I don’t “do” Christmas in the traditional gift-exchange sense, the most common reaction is, “How do you get away with that?” They never ask why — they just want to know …
I’m into delayed gratification. For example, if someone gives me a cookie, I’ll rarely eat it right away; instead, I’ll save it for a time when I’ll get maximum enjoyment from eating it (such as …
My nephew Brian greeted us just inside the door to my mother’s house. On his head was a fuzzy Santa hat, and in his hands he held a black plastic camera. “Say, ‘Cheese,’” he said …