Category Archives: Happiness is an Inside Job

Helicopter Parenting and Other Nonsense

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This is our foster dog Brock.  Yes, he really is this adorable! With Brock's arrival, came that "new dog" kind of chaos, which only added to the inherent chaos of our household, fueled by three high octane children under the age of nine.  Brock is a Cocker Spaniel puppy.  He jumps.  He wants to play catch all day.  He teethes. On everything.  He gets into puppy mischief, yet all is forgiven quickly. When he pees on the carpet, I sigh and open up the back door to let him into the yard.  When he ate through the leg of my … Continue reading →

The Fierce Diva Guide to Being Yourself, Outside Voice and All

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It began with strings of hushed whispers in the corners of yoga studios around New Jersey.  I would run into a yoga friend I had not seen in a while, whose response would be something like, "I don't get here much anymore.  I go to Yogi C.'s studio now." "Yogi C. even turned my husband onto yoga!" "Yogi C. got me into Scorpion pose last week.  I never thought I'd be able to do that." I'm a skeptic when I hear of any teacher whose reputation creates this type of buzz.  You all know about my experience with Shiva Shakti, … Continue reading →

The Mommy Wars and Other Nonsense

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Last week, a political strategist on a cable news network made a remark about the wife of presidential  candidate that has thrown the "Mommy Wars" back into the spotlight.  While I have no comment on the incident itself or the politics surrounding it, I have a lot to say about these so called "Mommy Wars," specifically, the debate over working versus staying at home. If you haven't noticed, Divas, these "Mommy Wars" are a luxury of the middle class.   These wars were created by women who had the choice whether or not to stay home or stay in their career.  … Continue reading →

The Fierce Diva Guide to Ride

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You pile into the family minivan.  You drive, so that your husband, buried in work and reluctant to come, can check email.  Your perpetually bored pre-teen spends the ride texting friends.  Your eight year-old watches a movie on the van's DVD player, while the youngest sits in her car seat and colors, while every now and then, giving the family dog a pat on the head.  You arrive at the park. You set up lunch and drinks on a blanket while the two younger kids play frisbee with the dog.  Your husband puts down the phone and joins in the … Continue reading →

Destiny, Jail Cells, and Finding Your Voice

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I probably would have enjoyed the dinner, had I not been eating in a Greenwich, Connecticut jail cell.  The take-out from the Italian restaurant across the street from the police station may have been the best meal I had in weeks, after spending my summer with Vick, whose kitchen cabinets contained no more than Frosted Flakes, Marlboro Reds, and grain alcohol.  Vick liked excitement.  He needed it, to be precise.  He'd wake me from my sleep to announce we were taking a road trip, and next thing I would know, we were speeding down I95 toward  Florida at two in … Continue reading →

The Fierce Diva Guide to Quitting Bad Jobs and Breaking Contracts

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Rudy plunks two Jack and Cokes in front of me and whistles through his teeth, which are stained from nicotine.  Before I can grab the drinks and run, he pushes his mouth to my ear. "God, I love the way you look in those pants.  Although I'd like to see how you look without them."    There is a twang in his voice from somewhere south.  He's short, skinny, and at least ten years younger than he looks. I pull away from him and load the cocktails onto a tray in silence, as I resigned long ago to ignore the comments … Continue reading →

The Fierce Diva Guide to Lightening up

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One of the Dudes I dated in my pre-Diva days is a guy we'll call Sam.  Sam, by most accounts, seemed pretty normal , especially compared to some of my other dates, like the actor, who wore more eyeliner than  I did, the nudist, who cooked me vegetarian meals in his backyard, out of what appeared to be a large cauldron, and the CIA hopeful, who broke up with me on the basis that I was "bad for his career."  Sam worked in a trade.  He left the house by six in the morning, came home, ate a meat and … Continue reading →

Please Take A Number: An Account of Losing and Finding My “Fierce”

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My Dude was writhing in pain.  Seven hours in an ER, and not only did we not have answers, but the hospital was eerily deserted.  Every so often, a small vial with the words, "drink me" written across it would appear on the counter next to my Dude's stretcher, that would help the pain, but there was no sign of how the vial got there.  Each time I ventured to  the nurse's station, it was empty.  "Hello, " I would call out.  "Is anybody here?"  "Hello? Is anybody here," echoed back to me. Late that night, an orderly, who bore … Continue reading →

The Drama Queen Diva

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 She stages a grand entrance at the elementary school pick up, slamming her car door and stomping her way through the cluster of moms chatting quietly. You avert your eyes  and pretend to type on your phone, but this does not stop the Drama Queen Diva from making a bee line to where you are standing. Today she rants about the PTO moms who left her out of the yearbook meeting, even though she's on the committee, her vacuum breaking, and the audacity of her mother-in-law to suggest that she stop giving her son Cheez-Its for breakfast.  There is a … Continue reading →

Sexy and I Know It

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It is not only your right as a Fierce Diva to be sexy,  it is your responsibility.  But before you throw on a push up bra and false eyelashes for your next trip to the grocery store, perhaps we should discuss the Fierce Diva definition of sexy.    First, I'll explain what sexy is not.  Starving yourself or "pounding" on an exercise machine to squeeze into a certain dress size is not sexy. The pursuit of "Manufactured Pretty"  to win the attention of a man is not sexy.  The props of "Manufactured Pretty" may include but are not limited to … Continue reading →