Two weeks ago I wrote about a culture of self-indulgence and instant gratification that seems to have permeated Western society.
Recently, I came across a talk show whose topic of discussion was about managing personal finances.
I remember a mishap years ago while in first grade and happily swinging on the playground swing during recess.
I grew up in an era where customers were always right - even if they weren't - because it was good for business to accommodate them, even if they were out of line.
With three sets of three-day Yom Tov/ Shabbat combinations behind us, and a return to "normalcy" and our daily routines, now would be a good time to examine our lifestyle habits - and improve them.
It is Sunday, the day after Yom Kippur and everyone you speak to says, "Thank G-d it's over."
In my previous column I wrote about older singles who were undermining their chance at getting married by letting others make decisions for them on as to whether to date a proposed shidduch or not.
This past week I was told two shidduch stories that made me sad and mad at the same time - because it is infuriating and tragic when people sabotage themselves or let others do so to them.
It's the dog days of August, and between the sizzling heat, the numbing humidity, the rain and the never-ending traffic and airport delays, there is a lot to complain about people's actions.
Every August thousands of children ages 17-19 leave the only home they have known, the community they grew up in, the neighborhood they are familiar with - even the country of their birth, and fly thousands of miles to a new and relatively strange environment where they will remain for a year.
Most of us have heard the Talmudic assertion that "He who saves a life, saves a world," and conversely, "He who kills a life, kills a world."
Just the other day, I was commiserating with a close friend about how my life had not gone the way I had envisioned way back when - when I was young and my head was filled with sweet visions of what would be.
Last week, to my deep distress, my cell phone disappeared from my purse. I don't know whether it somehow fell out, or if someone on the very crowded street purposely brushed against me and slipped a hand into my purse.
With the Sefiras HaOmer period behind us, the wedding season is in full swing.
When I was a little girl, I was fortunate to be one of the first of my peers to travel to Israel. It was 1965 and the fledgling state was only 17 years old.
There are many die-hard optimists who are actually Leftists. (I thought I would be generous in explaining why they are reality-challenged.)
Just days ago millions of people's lives across the country were impacted by severe unrelenting weather in the form of snowstorms, torrential rains, hurricane force winds and tornadoes.
Just days ago, the question, "How is this night different from all others?" was asked at Pesach tables around the world.
It's erev Pesach, the house is sparkling, the chicken soup is cooking, the potatoes have been peeled (20 pounds worth) and the guests are on their way.
'Twas the morning after Purim and in a ba'al batishe house, A bleary-eyed husband tried not to wake up his spouse,