Forget something? You are not alone. Personally, I’ve been forgetting things for longer than I can remember, possibly in the womb. “What did you say this cord was, and why is it always getting tangled?” (A forerunner to hairdryer issues that would plague me to this very day.) I was the two-year old looking for her binky. Or blanky. I forget. The...

Ah, Rome, the Eternal City. Forget about San Francisco: you can leave your heart here faster than you can say Ciao, Baby! I, however, held on to my heart, but left my underwear. As you may know, I  am capable of losing anything. Gloves, of course, and pens and pencils, cell phones, keys, wallets, and address books, not to mention money, checks, and laundry...

I have a cleaning person (we don’t call them ladies any more, ladies ) named Eva, who is lovely and cleans up a storm. She hardly breaks anything, and if I left cash lying around, I would find it on my desk, the bills ironed, the coins polished and stacked in neat piles. She’s also reliable, shows up on time, and doesn’t drink the liquor. So what could possibly be...