14 Quotes by Regina Barreca

Most folks with a terrific sense of humor know that loneliness, anxiety, depression and comedy share a basement apartment in a sketchy neighborhood.

So what is love? It’s an unbuttoning of the self. Not an unbuttoning of the clothing covering your sexy self, but the reassurance that, without any camouflage, cover-ups or compromise, you’re safe. You’re in the presence of another person who would rather be with you than with anyone else.

we always went back to my grandma’s pockets, because she carried in them everything you would need to get through the day or start life in a new state.You wanted hard candy, loose change, a little pencil, a bobby pin, a safety pin, a pre-threaded needle, an aspirin, Band-Aids, stamps or rubber bands? She had them on her person at all times. Those pockets carried what are now carried at bodegas.

I could do worse than become my own grandma, or anyone of the strong women who raised us. Our strengths emerged from theirs; we build on their heritage and transform their resilience and competence into our own.

House dresses are still available; I did my research. The only problem procuring them is that you’ll need to order from the kind of website where the pitch for their stylishness can be summed up by the following: “Zip-Front Housecoats for Elderly People - Faded Flowers Pattern.”It’s as if the editor of Vogue penned that evocative line herself.

Before reading about all of the world’s messes, I need to be in a good place, soothed and comforted. Prepared.So I read the comics first.

Board members, officers, executives, directors, managers, client service experts and geniuses: We, the consumers, want you to succeed. We dearly want to believe you know what you’re doing — and that you care about our respect and appreciation. It doesn’t take much to make us feel both looked after and loyal. But it doesn’t take much to make us feel like fools, either, and we’re less afraid to talk about it.

It’s hard to talk about love because most of the time, we have no idea what we’re talking about. We mutter; we fumble; we blush; we purchase plush toys. None of it makes sense.

I talk for a living, but it’s still hard to talk about love, especially when it’s officially mandated by the calendar. (Men, of course, think Valentine’s Day is a woman-dated occasion.)