Stephanie Klein Greek Tragedy

Making lists.
When I write something brilliant, I actually kiss the screen (okay, sometimes I lick it).  There is nothing I derive more pleasure from than writing.  Okay, fornication and food so don’t count.
My job.  (Okay, my fulltime job…

I started my first tab tonight—ever.  As a woman, you don’t have many opportunities to “start a tab” at a bar.  Usually you’re with a boy, or a crowd where someone takes care of it.  I’m the kind of woman…

I never thought it was possible to hate a town.  I mean I’ve heard moans about Long Island for the South Shore clientele, Greenwich for the sloppy drunk wasps, and Indiana for the rednecks and spitting.  That’s disdain for the…

Museum and zoo dates are daunting; there’s too much to judge.  At the museum, if he’s too slow, or wants headphones, or even worse, wants to visit the ancient musical instrument room, I’m going to be annoyed before the date…

Great Summer Camp.
If you are 8 to 16 and need to lose weight try Kingsmont.
Have fun and lose weight. Great food, no hunger.
 …

The life of Pi is not an option. I’ve seen it abandoned on too many bookshelves. The Da Vinci Code? No merci. I already tried Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections. Double no with cream.

It’s up there with scrap booking and…

My day has been beats of modulated movement. A progression of chords moving to a harmonic close–a sense of resolution. Cadence. Maybe it’s the dandruff weather in the city today, but I miss college. At school, I never had to…

I might have been the president of the science club when I was in high school, but I did not eat hot lunch.  I can hear it even now, “Ew, gross, he’s eating hot lunch.”  Meatballs and overcooked spaghetti, oooh…