Category: glamorous

My Glamorous Life

  • Look Back in Angora

    Look Back in Angora

    SATURDAY October 25 will be the 14th anniversary of my mother’s passing. Let’s honor it with this 2006 entry from the vaults of My Glamorous Life. Read: Hi, Mom!

  • A Sickroom With a View

    A Sickroom With a View

    Chicago is a dynamite town, but it may not be the best place to recover from a cold.

  • Afternoon Pages

    Afternoon Pages

    SLEPT much of yesterday. Slept till 1 PM today. Whatever this bug is I’ve got, it lets me work and care for my child during the week, then flattens me all weekend. Fortunately my daughter…

  • I Remember

    I Remember

    THERE WAS THIS GUY, sax player, used to honk all up and down the Q Train to Coney Island. Thought he was Sun Ra. Wasn’t.

  • One Hug

    One Hug

    JUST WEEKS ago, my daughter’s mother moved out of state. The kid’s been having a tough time with it, and with school, and with her upcoming tenth birthday, which won’t work out the way she…

  • The Color Purple

    The Color Purple

    WHEN my daughter was little, she used to ask me my favorite color. I was a grownup, and could only supply a grownup’s answer: “I love the way light looks in late afternoon,” I might…

  • I Cry Inside

    I Cry Inside

    MY DAUGHTER cries and begs me not to leave on my business trip. I hold her and tell her I will return soon. My grandfather died in a plane crash between New York and California.…

  • The Gory Details

    The Gory Details

    SO MY DAD had another seizure—it’s been about six months since the last one; nobody knows what causes them or how to prevent them. It was 4:00 AM Monday morning. He fell heavily, like a…

  • A Temporary Reprieve

    A Temporary Reprieve

    MY PHONE SHOWED three consecutive voicemails from my dad’s wife. I told myself, this can only mean one thing. Fortunately, it meant something else. You know your father is getting on in years when a…

  • They Made Me a Criminal

    They Made Me a Criminal

    THE JAIL DOOR SLAMMED and I was left in a women’s holding cell with seven teenage girls. There were no benches so we sat on the floor. I was fifteen but looked twelve. With long…

  • I Remember Mama

    I Remember Mama

    TODAY IN 2000 the lady who brought me into this life left it. Pneumonia was listed as the cause of death, but she was really killed by Alzheimer’s, a disease that, to all intents and…

  • Not a Thing in Texas

    Not a Thing in Texas

    6:00 AM, AUSTIN. My nine-year-old vegetarian daughter just phoned from New York to inform me that matzo ball soup is made with chicken broth. She has just learned this fact, and wanted me to know…

  • Chicago, Chicago

    Chicago, Chicago

    AN EVENT APART Chicago—a photo set on Flickr. Pictures of the city and the conference for people who make websites. Notes from An Event Apart Chicago 2013—Luke Wroblewski’s note-taking is legendary. Here are his notes…

  • Thursday

    Thursday

    ME: Why’s your girlfriend’s sweater on the back of your chair? MALE OFFICE MATE 1: It’s my sweater. MALE OFFICE MATE 2: He’s Metrosexual. ME: I experimented with that in college.

  • Dog Day Morning

    Dog Day Morning

    THE DOGS leave today. While my ex has been away this month, I’ve watched her two small dogs. And so have my two cats—especially the black alpha. Add an active eight year old girl to…