The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier My rating: 2 of 5 stars Is it possible to deal with bullies without carnage? How are power structures, formal and otherwise, shaken by one person’s defiance? The turbulence of adolescence, where every event is a phenomenon, every disagreement is a war and the…
Francois Sagan did say, “I like men to behave like men. I like them strong and childish.” The proverbial honeymoon comes to an end (proverbial, I said. That means its metaphorical, people. I retain my ‘unmarried girl’ status). Life with Mr.Everyday means some rainy days among the sunshine. The wonderfuller-than-life…
I miss being fabulously single. I’ve been it for so long, it has become a part of my identity. A huge, glamorous, proud-of-it, reveling-in-it part which is the one thing that conflicts with being in a relationship. A good relationship is wonderful in a number of ways. But it still…
How similar do people have to be to get along? How do you deal with the differences?
My smile is like a neon lightLighting up all aroundAnd drowning out all elseBrilliance in personIt says, “I’m happy!” Yours is like a candle flameA single flicker in the darknessEnveloped in a warm embrace of shadowsGentleness personifiedIt says, “I make you happy.” And you do. *Read my other Love Poetry….
Movies are a complicated business these days. There is the hysteria of the Fridaygoer who will all but maim in a bid to get to the box office first and then spend most of the movie updating his Facebook status from his phone. Then there’s the desperate reek of a…
The boyfriend. The friend. The meeting. The verdict. The reaction to the verdict. The conversation thereafter. At what point do I notice that I’ve overthunk?
I’ve thought and thought about how and what to do with this post. I actually have another draft but it doesn’t feel right. So I’ll do what I’ve always done with this blog – be honest. The dilemma is something I did figure would come up someday, in fact I…
“I miss the good old days when portrait painting was the only form of visual reproduction. But of course, you are too young to remember that.” I read the words in a tiny glass screen in the palm of my hand. Not a muscle moved, not even an eyelash flicker….
I ring the doorbell and it’s opened by my friend Salim, bouncing up with all the energy of his 21-year-old self. It is his birthday and the gift I am carrying is a book I know that he’ll enjoy. Salim and I have been classmates and bonded over a common…