Reconstruct This...

I am delighted at having met this group of women writers who make me laugh and think and feel. I feel blessed and honored to be in their company. Thank you, Sherry, Katie, Jen, Bella, Jena, Hedgie, Deena, Jacqueline, Dee, Rachel, Church and anyone else who's crossed my literary path these past four months. I'd like to end the year with an email written by my Community Breast Health Project writing group leader, Karen Jandorf, to a group of her friends, which--luckily--included me. Like Karen, this message is full of love, meaning and grace. And as I read it, I felt an upwelling of joy that I simply had to express before the year ended, at having met Karen and having met you. Abundant peace and love, Jill Dear Friends,   For a number of reasons which interest me, friendships seem to be harder to sustain, connection harder to maintain. I suspect that all human contact is suffering from the stresses of our times. “Catching up” seems almost impossible. Accumulated experiences seem...

"The great gift of family life is to be intimately acquainted with people you might never even introduce yourself to, had life not done it for you." ~Kendall Hailey, The Day I Became an Autodidact (Confession: I found this quote this morning on Quote Garden. I had to Google Kendall Hailey . And I had no idea what the word autodidact meant until I located it on dictionary.com.) I met Ocho on Match.com. Many of you probably have never had a Match date, so let me describe for you a few that I experienced: Tom smelled myseriously of Clorox bleach and wore a fanny pack. I might have been able to handle the fumes (hey, it's a turn-on that a guy can clean his house, right?), but the strain of imagining what was in the fanny pack (Handi-wipes? Anti-bacterial gel? Latex gloves?) was more than I could bear. Bob , who was as tall as a 4th grader, over the course of two hours and a plate of fettucine alfredo asked me 20 times if I was bothered by the fact that he was so short. Answ...

I’ve just completed Day Three of abstaining from self-derogatory comments. How’s it going for me? Let me just say that it’s the self-esteem equivalent of Everest without oxygen. (And I say that with a lot of self love, as usual.) The 31-day plan came about one night at the end of November while driving home from work. As usual, I called Sam. We kvetched about the usual stuff—including the guys in our lives—during which time I told Sam about a conversation I’d recently had with Ocho: [Scene: Ocho and I are walking my border collie, Marge, back from the beach.] Me: “I am one more day closer to being super cute.” Ocho: “?” Me: “With each new day, I am 24 hours closer to being skinnier and having longer hair.” Ocho: “Hm,” Me: “And then you’ll tell me I’m pretty again.” Ocho: [making eye contact] “I tell you you’re pretty all the time.” Me: “No you don’t.” Ocho: “Yes, I do. You’re just too fucking stupid to remember it (big smile).” “That’s a great line,” said Sam, quickly adding that I abs...