Tag Archives: tuenight

Women + $

TueNight_Money

My trigger to stop being so secretive about money occurred in a Palm Springs hot tub, while my sister and I were parboiling ourselves under a clump of shaggily glamorous palm trees. She is 61, I’m 59 and we were talking about money for the first time since the days when our “salaries” came in the form of weekly allowance from someone we called Mommy. Which is to say, we were having a meaningful money discussion for the first time in a half century.

“How much do you make?” she asked.

I told her.

I asked her the same question.

She answered it.

“Oh, O.K.,” we said simultaneously.

And then, as if we had walked through a heretofore unseen wall, we started talk openly about all sorts of money matter …

Read more at > http://tuenight.com/2019/04/61-of-women-would-rather-talk-about-their-own-deaths-than-this-topic/

 

 

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Sleepless in Suburbia

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Featured at TueNight this week: http://tuenight.com/2017/02/sleepless-in-suburbia/

 

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A Mother’s Prayer

There’s a secular kind of prayer I make when I fear something in my life is about to be lost. It goes like this: Please, please, please, please.

On an everyday basis, that thing is my phone and I am asking the Maker (of Apple Products) to reveal it to me as not lost after all. Please, please, please, please, I think. And there it is: my phone, tossed heedlessly into my bag, hidden in the black recesses among sundry other black things. I feel a little spangle of relief; it’s a company-issued phone, and I simply can’t tell the tech-support guy I lost another one. On most occasions, I remember to send up a thank you to the Maker that goes something like this: “You have saved me so much inconvenience (not to mention groveling) on this day, and for that I am grateful.”

As a mother of two “children” now in their 20s, I’ve had far too many occasions to send up that prayer to another Maker …

Read all about it >

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The boss of me

He was the editor of a well-known men’s magazine. A short man. Not an attractive man. After I interviewed with him I said to my boyfriend at the time, “Why he looks just as much like a turtle as a man can look.”

This was the 1980s. This was my first media job, although we called it publishing back then. I interviewed in a navy linen suit from Bonwit Teller, nude pantyhose and navy pumps trimmed with flat grosgrain ribbons. I was a 22-year-old from Iowa and I thought the look I should be going for was “appropriate.” 

Read more, right this way >

going up

going up

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