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Kim Festa
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The Eve of Eleven
     He retrieves it from the foamy edge of the sea, the very place where the last wave left its fleeting imprint.      "LOOK MA!  A JACKPOT!"      Among the cracked remains of chalky clamshells, he spots an elusive scallop shell.  Every childhood summer, h...
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A Woman's Right to Shoes: Save the Rockstuds
Its shrill met me mid-stream as the conditioner began to slide from each coated strand of hair. Evacuations, after all, are rarely moments of convenience. After wrapping myself in a starchy hotel robe and grabbing my bag, I joined my friend Mary as we hurri...
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The Happiest Place on Earth
Let's face it:
 food shopping with kids in tow is not always easy.  There have been
Devil Dogs mysteriously hauled into unsuspecting carts at Stop and Shop,
collapsing towers of fifty-dollar-a-pound Honeycrisp apples at Whole Foods, and
the barbed glares th...
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The Art of Blinking
"I know this is going to sound stupid," said my optometrist as he inched his flashlight dangerously close to my tensely widened eyeball. "But you have to remind yourself to blink." My lids quickly unleashed into an endless fluttering, a conscious effort to ...
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When Life Gives You Lemons
"I can't imagine it," said my seven-year-old, sizing up the volcano in the distance. "How it could it destroy so much?" With squinted eyes, he cocked his head to capture the perfect photo of Mount Vesuvius, one that might reveal how its crater seemed to pry...
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How the beautiful chaos of three boys help me to reassemble a lost self. Enjoy my latest blog post!
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American Boy Palace: Reassembling A Lost Self
"I want to show you this," my friend remarked, twisting
the strands of the doll's staticky blonde hair around her chipped lavender
fingernail. "Isn't she gorgeous? Her name is Julie."  I could
hear the crackles of electricity with each successive twirl as m...
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