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  I’ve changed my mind about quite a few things over the years. Some were little things, like deciding that a restaurant I once loved really wasn’t that good after all. Others were considerably bigger, involving beliefs, opinions, and ideas I once would have defended with absolute certainty. And you know what? I reserve the

Years ago, I gave my cousin what I still consider one of the sexiest calendars ever made. It featured twelve gorgeous, muscular men, most of them shirtless, doing the kinds of things that make a woman’s heart race. Vacuuming. Folding laundry. Washing dishes. Even cleaning the bathroom. Yes, gentlemen, apparently a six-pack and a bottle

When I hear the words “Make America Great Again,” I think of something very different from what you might expect. I don’t picture a particular president, a political party, or even a time when everything was supposedly better. I picture something I saw on television as a child. It was called Hands Across America. In

Life Is Better with Sprinkles I’ve always thought sprinkles were a rather curious invention. They’re tiny pieces of colored sugar that add very little flavor, have absolutely no nutritional value, and serve no practical purpose whatsoever. And yet, somebody somewhere decided that a perfectly good dessert would be even better covered in colorful little bits

I’ve always thought being a fairy would be a rather fabulous occupation. Pretty dresses, sparkly wings, a magic wand, and the ability to grant people’s deepest desires. What’s not to love? Of course, after spending enough time around people, I’ve come to realize that giving everyone exactly what they want might be an extraordinarily bad

I’ve always liked Wonder Woman. She’s beautiful, intelligent, independent, and has an exceptional wardrobe. She also has some rather impressive accessories. A golden lasso that makes people tell the truth? Yes, please. Although I suspect if I had one, I’d spend entirely too much time asking people questions they really didn’t want to answer. There’s

Americans have a remarkable fondness for the good old days. We love talking about simpler times, traditional values, and getting back to the way things used to be. It all sounds rather charming until you start considering what that might actually involve. Because while I’m perfectly happy to admire the past, I’m not particularly interested

Apparently, there are only two kinds of witches. Good witches and bad witches. No middle ground. No room for interpretation. You’re either floating around in a beautiful pink bubble spreading joy and happiness, or you’re dressed in black, threatening small children, and making questionable transportation choices. Personally, I’ve always preferred bubble gum pink, but alas,

Here in Texas, we have spent quite a bit of legislative energy deciding exactly what schools may and may not say about sexuality. And before anyone starts yelling at me, I am not arguing that every conversation belongs in every classroom. Age matters. Parents matter. Context matters. What fascinates me is what happens next. We

My daughter was worried that I was lonely, and that took me aback. I am a lot of things, but lonely is not one of them. She saw that I was alone, meaning single, and assumed that must mean I was lonely. Because she loves me, she was worried. I understood the logic. I just