Columns

Welcome once again to my nook, where the pendulum of topics I touch seems to swing in two opposite directions: things I love or hate. This week, I’m embracing hatred — sort of.

I absolutely dread flying. Traveling solo has its perks — you move at the beat of your own drum — but you also have to deal with sitting next to a stranger on a flight. Not bueno.

As the new year creeps in, I’ve come to the realization that I’ve actually read far more books than I anticipated. Making myself my own case study did the trick. Setting the bar low for my reading goal propelled me into success. I’ve always hyperfixated on reaching a number because…

My house plants and I are in a dysfunctional relationship where I forget to water them and they forget to live.

Legend has it a fearsome beast roams the Pine Barrens, a beast with a horned head and goat hooves.

Scents carry a significant amount of memories. I’m not just saying this because I believe it — it’s scientifically proven. Smell is the only sense directly linked to our limbic system, where all our memories and emotions are stored. That’s why the smell of crayons immediately takes me back to…

I’ve officially hit the age when people feel entitled to ask if I ever plan to get married or have children. The latest cherry on top? Someone told me, “You know, early menopause is a thing.” I might as well be put in a coffin already.

According to the vet, my dog Watson is a senior, so he now has to get a physical about 256 times a year.

I’ll be more positive now that I’ve given up hope.

Reality television is educational. Yes, really. While some moments are clearly staged or exaggerated by producers, shows like The Real Housewives offer unexpected lessons — especially when it comes to law, finances and the consequences of misplaced trust.

Last weekend I finished my most anticipated book of 2025, Emily Henry’s Great Big Beautiful Life. As usual she outdid herself, and I’m glad I didn’t listen to the mixed reviews I peeked at on Goodreads (I can’t help myself).

There is a time in every reasonable person’s life when they must put their foot down and refuse to feed a chihuahua a lobster roll.