A woman never knows how much she loves her shoes until she discovers one of them mangled, gnawed and strapless, its very sole torn from the heel, at the murky bottom of a dog bed. You may think it was just an Ugg. But from where I’m standing, my left foot will never be fabulous again.
How quickly she forgets.
Every year I get a letter from my Alma Mater. As much as I love Carolina, it seems the only time she writes, she’s looking for money. I don’t know why I feel that way—maybe it’s because she ends each letter with “I, I/we want to give to Carolina. Please check one: $100, $250, $500, $1,000, $2,000, or other.” Seems like just yesterday I paid off a multi-thousand-dollar donation known as “tuition.”
“Damn you, paparazzi!”
First kiss
