Remembering Nancy

Nancy Berchtold Haobsh, my mother, was quite a character.  I am not exaggerating when I say she was the most talkative person I have ever met.  At the grocery store, walking down the street, or, hell, even in a locker room--seriously, everywhere!--she was remarkably unself-conscious about conversing with strangers.  She had a beautiful mission to ...

Confessions of a Beauty Addict on Facebook

Facebook has lost a little of its lustre for me, but I still heart it.  If you're a similar addict, check out my new page for Confessions of a Beauty Addict and become a fan!  I'll be adding my book signing event information to the page.  (By the way, for Twitterers, Bella is chronicling her ...

Shell-shocked

I should have expected it would happen, but when the melancholy set in--took me over, left me drowning and gasping for comfort--I was stunned.  Knocked on my ass.  It's only been a handful of hours since I've returned to my real life, and the week between Christmas and New Year is always a ghostly, fleeting ...

Reflecting

It's been a couple of days since my mother died, and I'm not dealing with it the way I imagined I would. When, if ever, I vaguely thought of her passing, I sort of assumed I'd be heartbroken, bereft, inconsolable. But, strangely, life goes on.  I miss her like mad, of course, but I'll forget ...