It takes a lot of adrenaline and fear to make me actually write.

I strained to remember where I was or even what I was wearing, touching my green corduroy jeans and staring at the exposed-brick wall. As my paranoia deepened, I became convinced that I had died and no one was telling me.

Zingers should glow with intelligence as well as drip with contempt.

It is men's worst fear, personally and professionally, that women will pin the sin on them.

I find having a column a very difficult form of journalism. I'm not a natural like Tom Friedman and Anna Quindlen.

For two centuries, the South has feared a takeover by blacks or the feds. In Obama, they have both.

I don't understand men. I don't even understand what I don't understand about men.