Nora Ephron wrote her truth. She shared the daily horrors and joys of being a particular type of woman (opinionated, intelligent, neurotic, wanting her pie heated and her ice cream separate, you get it) long before it was the thing to do. And Ephron nailed it in such a smart, funny way that people actually […]
It’s late, and I should have been asleep an hour ago. But I’m giggling myself silly from reading Moone Boy: The Blunder Years, and I know sleep won’t come easy when my stomach muscles hurt from laughing.