Why? Why do I do this to myself? Every year I gnash my teeth at all the Oscars hype, and every year I vow to rent a movie instead of watching the Fashion Disaster Ego …

I cultivated many a guilty pleasure as a kid – spending my entire allowance on Skor bars; reading the naughty parts of The Thorn Birds; procuring a bottle of neon pink nailpolish, stealing through the …

I never buy People. I never even leaf through it at the doctor’s office; I’d rather read a four-month-old issue of Parenting. Even an unapologetic pop-cultivore like me has to draw the line somewhere, and …

Adults love to wish out loud that they could return to the safety and simplicity of childhood. I hear a lot of these wishes at this time of year, when an overnight snowfall does not …

I have a recurring nightmare in which I arrive home from work and stop at the front desk of my building to pick up my mail, and along with the customary assortment of bills and …

Men irritate the hell out of me sometimes – for instance, the times I hang out with men, and the conversation turns to injuries we have sustained, and after we run through the usual broken …

Ah, the open road. Americans love to say that phrase: “Ah, the open road.” Americans love the idea of the open road; we love Jack Kerouac, we love Route 66, and we love it when …

I try to avoid making new year’s resolutions. I just can’t cope with instituting major changes on the very first day of the year. Nothing bites harder than waking up with a malignant hangover on …

I spent New Year’s Day recuperating with a few of my favorite things: Bloody Marys, good friends, gossip, delicious pasta, and mind-numbingly bad film. The Biscuit and I, having downed enough room-temperature champagne and stayed …

I used to work at a store in the Short Hills Mall called Cheers! (Not my exclamation point, just for the record.) Similar to a Hallmark store, but independently owned, Cheers! sold cards, wrapping paper, …