Cherri Ellis

A Southern mother feeds a crowd one last time.

Sharing a departure on an arriving flight.

I was not meant for a life of espionage.

If fitness classes were people, then I would be one of those commitment-phobic idiots wondering why I was still single.

The first time I became aware of Deirdre, it was because I had stumbled across a photo of her online. I was producing a public service announcement for cancer awareness, and I was idly searching for images on my computer.

I have owned two houses in my life. One I built as a soon-to-be-married 20-something while I also planned a wedding. I tell you this with love and all of the wisdom in the world: Do not do these two things at the same time.

As I write this, we are 401 days away from the presidential elections, and the ugly is out.

In the unlikely possibility that you haven’t seen or heard of it, the University of Alabama chapter of Alpha Phi posted a recruitment video that sparked more national media attention than all other PanHellenic activities combined.

Walt and Larry have played the same 10 numbers in the Ohio State Lottery twice a week for 22 years. One day, unbelievably, after playing the same numbers more than 2,000 times, they won.

There are two official definitions of the word deadline. One is the absolute last date or time at which something must be completed, and the other is a historical reference to a line drawn around a prison beyond which prisoners will likely be shot.

On a recent visit to my hometown, my mom and I had a fabulous time going through old pictures. Wearing pajamas and drinking wine late into the night, we covered her floor with evidence of the past.