I'm returning to Los Angeles...
The kidnapping that shocked the world
Remembering Vladimir Slepak, a Heroic Refusenik
Israelis mourn after a year of increased attacks
U.S. Republicans vow amendments that might risk Iran nuclear bill
Biden, seeking to ease U.S.-Israel strains, pledges delivery of new warplanes
100 Years of waiting: Lebanon, a century after the Armenian genocide
On Independence Day, thousands of Arab-Israelis march for Palestinians’ right of return
Netanyahu’s Independence Day message praises troops’ ‘fighting spirit’ in Gaza
September 16, 1999 | 8:00 pmBusted flat in Barstow, I realize the desert is no place for an old Plymouth. The mechanic says something about "a machine shop in Victorville," and I think that is one phrase you never want to hear in a sentence with your name. That and "feeding tube."
August 12, 1999 | 8:00 pm
I wanted to try it out. You know, take the old b-word out for a spin in a totally non-threatening environment where I didn't know anyone and, therefore, could be neither mocked nor held accountable.
The b-word doesn't exactly roll off my tongue. No, it generally comes out in a...
July 1, 1999 | 8:00 pmI don't know how to tell you this, but I think it's over.
I don't want you to take it personally. It's not you; it's me. I just need some time to get my head together. I just need to find out who I am without you in my life. After 28 years, I just need to move on.
Don't think this is...
April 30, 1998 | 8:00 pm
At 16, I was so uncomfortable in my own skin that my dailyoutfit of choice was a drab army jumpsuit I bought at a thrift store.It zipped up to my chin, and that almost wasn't far enough forme.
As summer approached that year, my mother gotdumped by Syd, her two-bit Berkeley poet...
March 26, 1998 | 7:00 pm
Once, I had the notion on a Sunday afternoon that baking abatch of chocolate chip cookies would be a cathartic experience. Iwent to Ralphs, I bought the ingredients, I read the directions onthe back of the chips. But as I stirred the batter in a huge bowl, Iknew something wasn't...
September 11, 1997 | 8:00 pm
I remember coming home from my first date witha boy.
There was my mother, waiting up in the buzzyfluorescent light of our kitchen. She was gripping a cup ofalready-cold tea, her elbows propped up on the table. She wouldprobably want to know everything -- if I liked him, if he liked...