Author: Mary Lucia

Dear Column, This is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write to a column I write. We need to talk. Lately, it’s seemed like we still love each other, but just aren’t “in love” anymore. First and foremost, let me make it clear that there isn’t another column involved. I couldn’t do that…

I wonder: If I live to be ninety-three years old, will I fundamentally be the same person I am now, only four inches shorter and with twenty-seven additional cats? The people who extol the virtues of “clean living” say it’ll add ten years to your life. Like that’s some big incentive. I love and worship…

Want to see me squirm and duck for cover? Try one of these conversation starters: 1. “I met someone who knows you.” What possible good can come from a sentence that begins this way? It’s never followed up with, “It was someone whose life you saved a few years ago and then selflessly asked for…

While reflecting on one’s life, certain images and themes seem to dominate: God, Family, Love, etc. However, it’s occurred to me that I may have an unconscious fixation with Chihuahuas (for the record, I can barely spell “Chihuahua”). I’ve never eaten at a Taco Bell. Paris Hilton means very little to me. Yet Chihuahuas seem…

I know that some people commute many more miles to work than I do and they don’t seem at all put out by it. But to me sometimes it feels like I work in a whole other state or even galaxy. I contemplate the frequent flyer miles I’ve accumulated. I gas up, load the car…

I am the queen of recurring dreams. But lately, I’m often disappointed by the obvious symbols and lack of mystery they seem to hold. It’s been so long since I’ve had one of those “What in the world do you think that means?” dreams. Also sadly lacking are the “Please don’t wake me–I’m loving this…