When I need to work up my nerve to write a tough column, I try to think of myself as Emma Peel in a black leather catsuit.
Maureen DowdI 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.
Maureen DowdMy eating habits were so bad for many years that I didn't actually know the intricacies of making a salad.
Maureen Dowd