I heard a cheesy thing on TV, somewhere between Oprah and Ellen: “Life isn’t cured, it’s managed.” The Guitar Player and I are still at it, cooking our Friday night meals. It’s something for us to look forward to, all through a busy stressful week. It’s something we don’t want to give up, we…

It’s International Women’s Day. It’s also my little sister’s birthday. I was fourteen years old when she was born. It made no sense, it was crazy: my ma was in her early forties! I was in high school, trying to figure out algebra, boys, girls, and my new love of acting. It was all…

Hearts like accordions, opening and closing in a zigzag pattern of jagged notes. It happens, and sometimes it’s OK: disagreements and arguments can clean out a lot of crap. But it can also feel disastrous, a circuit of anger, shame, disappointment coursing through you. Too difficult. Too tiring. “Here’s what I think,” said The…