Does Any Woman Think She Has "Good Hair?"

I was given an assignment to write a story to talk to women about the issues brought up in Chris Rock's movie, "Good Hair." As a Caucasian woman with what I guess would be called, "good hair" I wasn't sure I was the right person to write this article. Even though I decided not to do the story, it did get me thinking about about the question I posed in the headline: Does ANY woman think she has good hair?

Last week at my writing group the six of us were talking about this very topic. These were all white woman of varying ages and hair types. I heard a variety of complaints.

"My hair is too thin."

Mine's too curly"

"Mine's too flat."

"When it rains I can't do a thing with it."

When I was 13-years-old I used to take my already-straight, long, blond hair and roll it over a giant orange juice can in an effort to make it even straighter. Like many women I have had a life long love/hate relationship with my hair. At this point in my life most days I like it. But I've permed, highlighted, straightened, ironed, moussed, gelled and fluffed all in an effort to feel like I've got good hair.

In a conversation with an older black woman I know, she enlightened me a bit about the history of all the torturous ways women of color have straightened their hair for decades. She described painful sessions as a child, her mother using a almost-red hot comb to straighten her hair, one searing section at a time. There are chemicals that burn your scalp, electric irons to flatten and straighten and hours spent blow drying it within an inch of its life.

This woman, who has seen a lot in her life, was shocked however when I told her that many, many Caucasian women struggle with their hair too. By no means am I minimizing the racist undertones women of color and their hair choices face, but I just think in many ways we're all a lot more a like than we often think. And as a true woman's woman, I think we should stick together and celebrate how we can support one another in any way we can.

Now that I'm a little older I've learned to appreciate what I have and who I am. That doesn't though that for one minute mean I'm going to trade in the highlights and hair products and go all natural. I'm not crazy! I celebrate what God and my very lovely parents gave me, and the rest is thanks to a great hairdresser and some really good styling products.

David Letterman - Bad Guy? Victim? Or Both?

Once again we're being forced to know way too much about a celebrity's private life and the sad thing is, I'm less and less shocked every time something salacious comes out about someone.

That said, I have to admit I thought a bit more of Dave. In my 20s and 30s I had a major crush on the comedian. I loved his geekiness and self-deprecating humor. I didn't bother to think about the possible ego involved in getting someone that far up in the food chain of fame. What was I thinking? Like many men in positions of power of course he slept with willing young women.

Before he was a parent and partner that was fine, but now there are a couple of people who need him to not be an ego-centric star and just be a dad and a husband.

Being the crack investigative journalist I pretend to be, I wanted to know what one of Dave's former long-term girlfriends had to say about all this, so I went to her blog. I have always loved Merrill Markoe. She and Dave created a lot of the bits - like Stupid Pet Tricks, that Dave still uses. She didn't say much in her post, but the line, "As you can imagine this is a very emotional moment for me because Dave promised me many times that I was the only woman he would ever cheat on," led me to believe that this isn't the first time he's been unfaithful.

To answer my own question in my headline, I think he's both a bad guy and a victim. It's wrong obviously for someone to shake you down for cash in order to keep their silence, but clearly he was not right in cheating on his girlfriend/now wife.

There's no easy answer to why people cheat, and let me be clear, I know women do it as well, I just think it seems a bit more common amongst males. Especially successful males in positions of power.

When Dave first confessed his transgression my first thoughts went to his wife. My heart broke for her because there are few things more painful than being betrayed by the person you trust and love more than anyone. Behind all his jokes about how chilly things are at home is someone who is really hurting, and there's nothing funny about that.

I would love to live in a world where no one hurts people they love. Where people are faithful, loving and true. But humans are flawed and at times weak.

I may be less shocked when these things happen, but it doesn't mean I'm not disappointed. I always thought Dave seemed like a good, stand-up, mid-western guy, but no matter how old I am or how much that's not good life shows me, I will never give up hope that most people are indeed committed and good.

So When Did a Size 10 Become Plus Sized?

When I saw all the brouhaha about this photo of model Lizzie Miller in Glamour magazine I was a bit torn. On one hand I thought it was great that this photo of a woman who is a size 12-14 (the size of the average American woman) had garnered lots of positive response from readers wanting more. Yet on the other hand, looking at this lovely woman, it made me sad that she was considered "plus sized."

Our expectation of beauty is so far out of whack I don't know if we can ever find a healthy balance. We have designers who create fashion for women built like 12-year-old boys, not the beautiful curvy creatures we are, and a multi-billion a year magazine and beauty industry that preys on our insecurities and makes us feel bad about ourselves.

Lizzie Miller is 5'11" and weighs 180 pounds. She has a little bit of a tummy, and isn't a stick. She looks like a woman, a very beautiful woman.

In doing a little research I discovered that as a woman who is 5' 9 1/2" tall and wears size 8s and 10s I am considered plus-sized in the modeling world. In my life I only know a couple of women who wear sizes as small as the ones models are expected to wear - and both are about 5'2," not over 5'9" like most models.

Due to the overwhelming positive response Glamour received from running this photo, they are planning in November to run nude photos of several plus sized models.

It's a start, but the real success will come when it doesn't take a "special issue" of a magazine to have women of all sizes and shapes in their pages. When that day comes hopefully it will allow girls to grow up loving themselves, just as they are.

You Can't Go Too Far In Scaring People About Texting And Driving

Okay, so this isn't the most cheery thing to watch, but please do. Studies show that texting while driving is actually more dangerous than driving drunk. If you know a teen driver sit them down and make them watch this.

This PSA was filmed in England. American television companies felt it was too graphic to show here. Two weeks ago a 19-year-old girl on Cape Cod, where I live was killed on our main highway, she crossed lanes, hit an elderly couple (who recovered) and died. How important was that message she just HAD to send at that moment? I doubt it was worth losing her life over. I don't think you can scare teens enough about texting and driving.

Let's make Don't Text And Drive as much a part of our culture as Don't Drink And Drive.

John Hughes: Writer, Director and Teen Whisperer

I wasn't a teen when John Hughes hit the big time, I was a twenty-something and a young mom. But I was young enough and also old enough to know he really got it. I was extremely sad to hear of his passing yesterday at only 59-years-old.

My first Hughes movie was "National Lampoon's Vacation," and from the opening credits with Lindsay Buckingham singing "Holiday Road" I was in love. The writing was so smart, so quick, and so unlike anything we'd been seeing at the movies. I was eight months pregnant with my second son. In August. A hard time to feel anything is funny, but I still remember walking around outside in downtown Chatham, MA on that summer night reciting favorite lines to my then-husband. Lines like, when talking about French kissing, cousin Vicki tells Audrey, "My daddy says I'm the best." Or, Clark flipping out about Wally World being closed: "We watch his program... We buy his toys, we go to his movies... he owes us. Doesn't he owe us, huh? F-----' A right he owes us!"

I read today online a quote from Steve Martin where he said he once asked the filmmaker how long it took him to write "Planes, Trains and Automobiles," the film Martin starred in with John Candy, to which Hughes humbly offered, "I wrote it over a weekend." To writers like me who took 3 years to write a novel, that is unbelievable. To say he was prolific in an understatement.

He will, however be forever known for his teen movies. "The Breakfast Club," "Sixteen Candles," "Ferris Bueller's Day Off and "Pretty in Pink" were spot on in how teens think, relate to their parents and each other.

I've had the pleasure of interviewing Anthony Michael Hall several times, and he counts the films he did with Hughes as something he's forever grateful for. Unlike some former teen stars, he is gracious when fans ask him about those films, he embraces the era, and knows he was part of something iconic.

In this era of practically everyone shouting "Look at me! Look at me!" via Twitter, Facebook and blogs (oops, well, I don't Twitter) Hughes was a very private and humble man. After an incredibly successful run, he kind of bowed out of the movie business to be in Chicago and spend time with his family. Married for 39 years to his high school sweetheart, he truly was one of the good guys.

As I said, I wasn't a teen coming of age in the 80s, but John Hughes was was nonetheless a part of my growing up, as a young adult. I was a stay-at home-mom when Michael Keaton was feeding a baby chili in "Mr.Mom," and I took my young children to see "Home Alone." Hughes' work touched all age groups.

I thank him for countless hours of entertainment, and even though I'm far from 16, for still keeping the hope alive that you never know when your own Jake Ryan might just drive up.

"The Ugly Truth" About Romantic Comedies

I have always loved romantic comedies. Modern movies like "Sleepless in Seattle," "When Harry Met Sally," "You've Got Mail, "Love Actually" and classics like "The Philadelphia Story" are amongst my favorites.

The thing about those movies, and the reason I like them is because the women are smart, accomplished and not desperate to catch a man.

Something has happened in the romcom world though in the last few years, something has made me question my affinity for the genre.

Too many of these movies portray women as whiny, desperate and as jittery as a bunch of poodles. The single women I know (myself included) are none of these things.

I was about sent over the edge by "He's Just Not That Into You." The women were cloying and panicked at trying to get a man. Ginnifer Goodwin made me want to hit my head repeatedly until she stopped being such a weeny. She was attractive, adorable even, but somehow she was under the misapprehension that something was wrong with her because she didn't have a boyfriend.

I've written a novel that's a romantic comedy and my hope that while a little klutzy, my protagonist is neither desperate nor incapable of living a great life on her own.

It's amazing to me after reading about 15 reviews today of "The Ugly Truth" (which I had actually been thinking of seeing, but probably won't now) that reviewer after reviewer talked about how misogynistic it was. And it was written by three women! Why is it so hard for even women to write good roles for women? I've come up with a few rules that I'd like Hollywood to take note of, and hey, if any of them want to take a look at my book, I'd be happy to oblige.

1. No more showing women sitting by a phone, pacing by a phone, doing yoga while staring at a phone waiting for a man to call. We have lives of our own.

2. No more having women desperately dissecting conversations, body language and lack of said calls ad naseum with their equally delusional friends. See above for why.

3. Just because a woman is successful in her job doesn't mean she's. a. frigid b. socially inept c. pathetically lonely. Maybe she LIKES her job and is happy.

4. "You complete me" is a stupid notion and women need to get over it already. Compliment me? Sure, but stop making movies where women are sadly roaming the aisles of supermarkets looking for someone to make a pot roast for because unless they do they're lives are incomplete.

5. Start making movies again about people who are interesting in their own way, all on their own. Sally Albright in "Harry and Sally" was a journalist with lots of friends, as was Annie in "You've Got Mail." And well, no one would ever accuse Katharine Hepburn of being a wimpy woman who'd do anything to snag a guy in... well, any movie.

I want to love romantic comedies again. But I also don't want to feel like my gender is being denigrated and reduced to a ridiculous stereotype. I love love. I just want it to come in a package that doesn't insult my gender or my intelligence.

Icky Things And The Single Girl

Most of the time I am pretty happy being single. As a writer I can work until the wee hours and no one complains. I can read in bed with copious amounts of moisturizer on my feet and no one blanches in disdain, obviously not appreciating the beauty of a smooth instep. Well, the exception might be that creepy foot fetishist, Tanner from "The Bachelorette" who would be way too into it. In general it's a pretty happy life, but there are times a guy could come in handy.

Yesterday I came home from doing errands and as I pulled into my driveway I saw a squirrel lying across my driveway. I pulled into the garage and cautiously walked out, wanting to make sure he wasn't just laying there in wait, having planned the perfectly orchestrated take down of a human wanting to throw a big squirrel rave in my house. When I observed it wasn't an obvious threat I got closer and bent over to get a closer look. There were no obvious wounds, no blood, but it appeared to be dead. This was tough for me because oddly enough, I love squirrels, I think they're awfully cute.

"I so wish I had a husband to take care of this," I muttered to myself as I went to get a shovel. When I tried to scoop up the the poor thing (with a snow shovel no less) I thought I saw her head move and jumped back, startled. As I crouched down close to her, I saw she was still breathing. (I assumed it was a female having run herself ragged for her children)

I ran in and called Wildcare, a group that rescues animals. The volunteer gave me instructions on how to get her to them, but I was scared. I pictured getting this critter in a box, then into my car, and as I drove along it leaping on to my head a la Clark Griswald. As I stood there talking to to Lila at Wildcare, I noticed that the squirrel's eyes had closed. Closer examination showed she'd stopped breathing. I told Lila, and we hung up.

I put an umbrella next to her sheltering from the sun, hoping she'd somehow revive. Within just minutes though I could tell her body had stiffened.

Trading the scoopy snow shovel for a garden one, I buried her in my yard.

As I put away the shovel I thought back to the years when I had a husband to do those things, and then, when I was no longer married, having sons who took care of the creepy crawly stuff. Now that I have to handle all things icky and non by myself, I see that whether it's a dead squirrel, a hinky toaster or a really scary thunderstorm in the middle of the night I really am okay.

It's nice to know I can bury a squirrel, check the oil in my car and put the screens in the windows come summer, but as old fashioned as it may sound, sometimes it might be kind of nice to not have to.