Today is Monday. It is also Valentine’s Day, which means the universe either really hates or totally adores single people. I’m undecided, but I’m pretty sure I’m off the hook, either way. Married people celebrate Valentine’s Day differently than other Facebook relationship statuses. We don’t go in for all the lovey-dovey stuff, choosing instead to quietly affirm our affections in private, more intimate...

I was at a loss for a subject for today’s post until about half an hour ago, after Brittany disclosed her discovery of the vile and regrettable videotaped evidence of my first wedding. She’s been working on cleaning out the accumulated detritus of my office, which has – for the last year or so – been the dumping ground of everything that wouldn’t fit anywhere else in the house. It started with boxes, when my...

First, some business. The next installment of Snowflakes In Autumn will go up next week, broken into two parts and published on Tuesday and Thursday. I’ll probably keep the goal for Chapter Six set at $75, since you guys met that pretty quickly (although much of it was due to a generous donation from a Ms. X in New York, who did wonders to combat the Southern perception of Damn Yankees). We’ll see if we make it to $75 in round...

After having experienced life with a toddler for going on two years now, it’s difficult to remember exactly what my life was like before Trey came toddling into it. It was more serene, I suppose – but only in the sense that it was more boring. It’s not as if during the BT days (Before Trey), I oft sat in solitary seclusion, reflecting upon life’s mysteries from the banks of a quiescent lake with water of such...

The regular publishing schedule here at Coquetting Tarradiddles is pretty simple: two new essays each week, with one released on Tuesday and the other on Thursday. It doesn’t sound like a difficult thing to manage and, truth be told, it really isn’t. However, every so often Life meets up with Fate over a game of cards in the back room of some celestial speakeasy where anthropomorphized representations of the human condition get...

Yesterday marked the beginning of my thirty-fifth year on this good, green Earth, yet I don’t really feel all that much older. I definitely don’t feel any wiser, which is no great shock considering that I’m already the Smartest Man Alive and have been for quite some time. No, if anything, all I feel is a little bit more tired and slightly more rundown, with just a hint of smug satisfaction that comes from having been...