- ADD affects not only children but adults as well. I know this because I saw it on PBS. I had no idea. As a list of symptoms scrolled across the screen, I became alarmed and was this close to diagnosing myself with adult ADD, until I was distracted by the birds, then a toaster.
- With the exception of career drag queens, men have no business in bra departments.
- Most people experience marriage as a daily series of mundane assurances: there will probably be no sex tonight; siblings fight dirty; if you land in the hospital at least one person has to show up; if you land in jail that same person will bail you out; this hospital/jail person will never learn to properly load a dishwasher; their grooming habits will always strike you as bizarre; dripping faucets are always your fault; there will never be enough money for college; your toddlers are spreading peanut butter on your rug. Right now.
- Sometimes soulless dialogue, bad acting and apocalyptic role models really are the best medicine.
- I've dropped every ball ever thrown to me, lost every race I managed to finish and I throw like an armless mermaid.
- I began to suspect something more serious -- premature senility, to be exact -- the day it became clear that my neck had lost every memory of how it's supposed to look. Turtlenecks that once gave me a sleek, faux-hottie appearance at holiday parties have now become sad knit retaining walls struggling to hold back a mudslide of skin.
- Our son was three years old when Prop 8 passed, too young to understand what was going on but just the right age to articulate his thoughts about those yellow "Yes on 8" signs he saw everywhere. They were, he announced, "the color of pee-pee."
- I grew up in the Bible Belt, where odds are, sooner or later, you end up getting born again. It happened for me at roughly 8:15 on a Friday night. I felt as though God had spoken to me personally, revealing that He had indeed come to earth in human form. And her name was Barbra Streisand.
- Liver. No matter how it's prepared, liver always ends up tasting like what it is: a bovine internal organ designed to rid toxins from the blood of cows. Responsible moms were forced to serve it back then. Something about the iron. My mother was never able to explain this in a way I understood, so I grew up thinking that if I didn't eat liver I'd never learn to iron. Which explains the way my shirts look today.
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