Life As I Know It

“Miriam!” “Yes!” I turned suddenly to see my friend with her hand on her hip “Aren’t you listening to a word I’m saying?” I smiled a crooked smile and said “frankly my dear… no” “Ah! What is wrong with you”? “Nothing” “Yes there’s something wrong. We just passed Neiman’s and you didn’t even glance.” “Oh, did we? When?” “Somewhere in between… what’s with you? I sigh one of those horrible sighs that reaches into your heart and makes it skip a beat “I don’t know. It’s a mixture of hormones or my past reaching into my present. My present making me feel jaded, my future being a blur. Or the lunch we just ate that gave me heartburn. Take your pick” She laughs, “You need serious shop therapy and I know exactly what will do the trick” so she swings me around and we head straight to the vintage shop I love. She drags me through the rows of 1950’s dresses, art deco pieces, and old tacky furniture. I drag my feet through the store not showing interest in anything. I’m having one of those days wh...

The following short story is dedicated to a dear friend of mine who taught me that forever is the time you make infinite… Goodbye. That’s the last thing he said to her. Goodbye. She hated goodbyes if you ask her what she needed… she’d say she needed more hellos. But all she got was a goodbye. A finale, a conclusion. The end. TAN-TAN. Like the notes at the end of a Mexican song that tell you to applaud. But after years of farewells, I’ll be seeing you’s, and until we meet again moments she’d learned there was no point in being picky about farewells. You were fortunate, more than blessed, if you got a goodbye at all. He was leaving to a place where she could not follow. Where phones, and computers didn’t exist, only memories and old photographs. After they said goodbye she got in her car, and just drove. She felt like driving, hitting the open road, never looking back and never getting anywhere. So she just drove, as she bit her lip trying to hold back the tears. She was facing the sunse...

Long ago I did a couple human interest articles; I was able to interview extraordinary people with wonderful stories. This is one of my favorites : Friendship is a gift everyone is able to give and receive. True friends are loved for their qualities. Their minor faults are overlooked. I think it began when I asked Mrs. Louise who her best friend was. This was her story: “I met my best friend when I answered a local add. Her name was Irene Herrera. She was in need of a roommate and I was in need of a home. I remember the first time I met her. I walked up her porch and noticed a small sign posted over the doorbell, and index card that read in simple block letters BELL. For the truly moronic there was an arrow. She opened the door and she had a big smile on her face as she welcomed me in. She had a wide face and long red hair piled up on her head like she’d done it in a hurry. A pencil and a pen were sticking out of it. She had an old deep green kimono patterned with dragons, a big white ...

I was 5 when I realized that tag was one of my least favorite games. I was in junior high when I realized guys never stopped playing tag. I was in high school when I realized you could get hurt chasing someone. Tag required running after someone that you never quite knew if you could catch. When played with boys it was even more challenging. They were sneaky and too fast for my taste. The minute they were a grasp away, they’d change direction and be gone in the blink of an eye. At times “you’re it”, at times your not, but when you spent that amount of time running the pursuing became a hunt. I was sipping chamomile tea three weeks ago when I realized I still hated tag. When you are older and a game of tag is what “He” has in mind, then you might as well stop running, sit down, grab yourself a soda pop and let him come to you. It’s cute when you’re five to chase someone; it’s a child’s game then. But if you’re in your twenties and older and he’s still playing tag well it’s simply that- ...