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Just Her Type
 You'd think asking someone what they'd like as a gift would net heartwarming dialogue. "What?? Oh, you shouldn't... but I could always use a book." Or, "No-no-no-don't-don't-don't, I don't need... |
 Mother's Day is three days away and you've got nothing. Goose egg. Nada. Feelin' the heat?
But guys, it's actually easier than you think. I surveyed lots of moms to find out what they... |
 I’ve mentioned in a past blog that University of Michigan’s head coach, John Beilein, is my mom’s youngest brother.
Which means… Uncle John is headed to the Final Four. The Final Friggin’... |
 Last week, I brought you the first round of Facebook Fouls—crimes against (virtual) humanity, brazenly served up daily by friends, “friends,” neighbors, and people we last saw playing skeeball at... |
 Anyone who knows me is aware of the complex, love/hate thing I have with Facebook. We’re like that redneck couple whose fights wake the neighbors. Weekly break-ups. I-never-want-to-see-you-again...... |
How good are we at spotting red flags in others? I ask because, by now, many of us have caught wind of the local event planner accused by a Miami couple of fraud, in the news last week. He was hired... |
Let's start here. My Uncle Pat was in town this weekend. He called me on Sunday morning to go to breakfast, and the conversation went like this:
Him: We’re thinking the diner, around 9am. Do... |
Light Cafe, Circular Congregational Church graveyard
Before moving to Charleston, I was fascinated by haunted houses. My brushes with lost souls were few and mostly vicarious,... |
 Last Thursday, my friend Martha and I dressed in the exact same outfit (black wraparound dress, boots, and clutch) and headed out to Lowndes Grove to do some "tasting." We didn't mean to wear the... |
"Irene, don't be a dick."
That's a Facebook quote from my friend Paige, written this time last year, as Hurricane Irene barrelled toward Florida and she—a resident of Orlando—packed... |
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