Stephanie Klein Greek Tragedy

The Soundtracks of Our Summers
We’re all living our little lives, with our little earbuds, hoping to live out loud, writing the soundtracks to our lives, as they happen. We all must think it sometimes: that our lives are movies…

Oh, nuts.
Smut. It’s what they caught me with, age 15, at sleepaway camp for fat kids. I was then lectured by a man who asked me if I thought I knew a lot about boys. Fellatio, as far as…

I’m at the airport on my way to Denver. Scheduling delays. I couldn’t sleep last night, worried about the pilot story for Straight Up and Dirty, struggling with whether or not it’s the right story to tell, wondering if it…

This is the kind of stuff I’m now cutting from the Moose manuscript.  All things analytical are driving me to ctrl + X.  I wonder if it’s the right decision.  I’m also cutting out tangents… this is a part where…

It’s the title of one of the chapters in my new book MOOSE.  The Hate Diet.  It’s not about hating diets; it’s about a diet that worked because I hated.  Hate, not love, motivated me to lose weight.  In spite…

Physical Fitness tests.  Some New York State standard.  Flexibility, strength, endurance.  Flex arm hang, sit & reach, crunches.  The height we got to write down on the paper ourselves, even our resting heart rate.  But when it came to weight,…

Instead of stories, he remembers all the girls from high school based on the size of their breasts.  But, even still, he doesn’t refer to them as breasts, only "boobs," "rack," and "busty."  He dated the fat twins—I thought for…

I joined the ranks of 4 million bloggers in late January of 2004 as a delayed New Year’s resolution to write everyday.   Okay, fine, I just broke up with a boyfriend, and break-ups mean tears, maudlin introspection, and let’s face…