Do You Want a Cookie, Little Girl?

(re-run) She ran a personal ad in the Contra Costa Times: Single white female looking for single Asian man. Her two previous boyfriends had been Asian. James called and left a message with his phone number on a Friday night. The next morning Pam checked her phone messages. She liked his voice as she listened… Continue reading Do You Want a Cookie, Little Girl?

Pandemic Friday

My friends are going out. They are eating at restaurants with no masks on, and they are sitting shoulder to shoulder at the table – not all from one household! I am chicken to do that.  I watch too much news and read too many newspapers. Yes, everything we do in life is a risk.… Continue reading Pandemic Friday

Pennies from Heaven

(re-run) When I was sixteen, I saved up my babysitting money and went downtown to Cottage Grove Avenue in Des Moines, where there was a head shop filled with incense, hanging beads, roach clips, black light posters and tie dye. Although I wasn’t a pothead (I didn’t smoke cigarettes either), I enjoyed the ambience of… Continue reading Pennies from Heaven

Do You Want a Cookie, Little Girl?

(re-run) She ran a personal ad in the Contra Costa Times: Single white female looking for single Asian man. Her two previous boyfriends had been Asian. James called and left a message with his phone number on a Friday night. The next morning Pam checked her phone messages. She liked his voice as she listened… Continue reading Do You Want a Cookie, Little Girl?

When your Subconscious Self is Screaming at You

I just unpacked my one-thousand-book collection. Ten years ago, I packed it up and stored it in Rubbermaid tubs in a damp garage two blocks from the ocean. I was in the middle of a divorce, and I sold all the bookcases in my divorce house so that I wouldn’t have to move them. This… Continue reading When your Subconscious Self is Screaming at You

Plain Jane

My middle name is Jane. I don’t love it. There was a commercial in the 70’s for hair dye, I think. I remember the line,” Don’t be a plain Jane.” After that I disliked both my middle name and my hair color. There was another commercial in that decade that said, “Boys don’t make passes… Continue reading Plain Jane