Damn you, Daniel Powter! It’s all your fault for ruining my morning! »more»

It seemed like a good idea at the time. (But then again, I’m sure I said the same thing when I was sunk all that money into my fancy Betamax tape system.) After several months as a member of the Cult of Facebook, I started to have some concerns about the level of personal information I was putting out there for public consumption. »more»

I’ve never liked chopsticks. Trying to snag a bite of Lo Mein with those things is like trying to catch Bigfoot with a butterfly net. However, strange as it may sound, I think I need to reevaluate because chopsticks also just accomplished the impossible. They actually have me feeling that perhaps divorce is survivable after all. »more»

A funny thing happened on the way to this blog. I actually learned something by not writing it. »more»

I have never been able to deal with numbers very well. I didn’t get the process or the language. I thought “Calculus” was some Greek God with the power to make men’s brains to explode. Balancing a checkbook is more difficult than balance a VW Beetle on my head. »more»

In the carnival Fun House that is life after divorce, there are plenty of terrifying firsts that leap out at you from the darkness.

Dropping your kids off with your former spouse after their first every-other-weekend sleepover. Eating your first meal alone in a crowded restaurant on a Saturday night. Balancing your own checkbook for the first time. There’s one first, though, that far and away brings with it the most petrifying, mind-numbing, inescapable panic of all.

Sex. »more»

To be fair, all those Internet dating sites do what they do well. But then again, so do nuclear warheads, and I don’t think I’d have much luck around them either.

I realize what heresy it is to say something like that in this particular time at this particular place. Dating websites are everywhere. Match.com. eHarmony. True. Chemistry. Lavalife. JDate. Matchmaker. Seriously, there are more sites devoted to dating than the number of women I’ve dated in my entire life. And each one of them promises that you’ll find your soulmate, if you’ll just sign up for a nominal monthly fee. Who says you can’t put a price on love?

Far be it from me to be cynical (okay, maybe it’s not that far) about these places. I know two people who met and married their spouse via an online matchmaker. Still, I while it may work for some people, Internet dating is also a torture Satan thought up after a few shots of Jack Daniels. »more»

We all know that love makes us do crazy things. Or, rather, the lack of love. For some people, the local liquor store becomes more like a timeshare. Others find innovative ways to wind up on the receiving end of a restraining order. And there are those who manage to work the name of their lost love into every third sentence they speak. »more»

It’s the echo that still kills me.

Even two years into divorce, it continues to jump me like one of those hockey mask-wearing psycho killers every time I walk in the door of my apartment. And it cuts right into my heart, reminding me how barren my life is now. »more»

There are basically three types of friends in this world. Let’s say you fall of a bridge into the raging river. The first type of friend would jump right in to save you. The second type would look around for rope or anything else that could be used to pull you to safety. And the third type….oh, the third type….they will rush right out and sign you up for swimming lessons. »more»

I don’t know how many people saw this, but there was a story in the news the other day about the prisoners at Guantanamo. They were given some good news and some bad news. »more»

Let’s face it. Nobody gets married so they can get divorced. Okay, maybe they do if their last name is Trump, but for the rest of us, we enter a marriage with the reasonable expectation that this is it. We’ve happily mated for life, those 50 percent divorce rate statistics be damned.

And then it happens. »more»