Susan McCorkindale

Susan McCorkindale's picture

Susan McCorkindale

I'm a wife, mother of two boys, and fake farm chick. I'm also a first time author whose memoir, Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl, is part Green Acres and part Sex and the City.&nbsp;Think Manolos retrofitted with mudflaps, and you've got my life. Check out my&nbsp;blog, <a rel="nofollow" href="http://confessionsofacounterfeitfarmgirl.blogspot.com">http://confessionsofacounterfeitfarmgirl.blogspot.com</a>, for almost daily updates from the funny farm, and look for me on Facebook and on Twitter @fakefarmgirl.&nbsp;<br /> <br />

Stories by Susan McCorkindale

When we lived in the ’burbs, the weirdest things I ever found in the washing machine were earrings, car keys, and the occasional cell phone. Oh...
My dear friend Kim is the world’s best mom. I am the world’s second best. Why does Kim beat me for top honors? Because when tickets for...
So there I sat, discussing with the hottest kiddie shrink in the hinterland the differences between Clonidine, Seroquel, and Abilify, and which would...
“Any birthday is preferable to the alternative, dear daughter.” This from my mother when I called her to bellyache about my upcoming...
It all started when I made the mistake of telling my husband I wanted a tattoo. “Susan,” he replied, his face contorted like he just...
Thanks to the nice people at my local newspaper, many of you know I recently sold the book based on my blog, Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl....
I’m thinking of launching a new game show. I call it Style Smackdown. It came to me the other day when, for the four thousand and twelfth time...
I am waiting for a rejection letter. Not just any rejection letter. The mother of all rejection letters, particularly as it pertains to those of us...
Having worked in magazines, I know better than to buy the bunk they splash across their covers. Lines like “Stroll Away Two Sizes!” and...
I hope they have chocolate in hell. Why? Because that’s where I’m headed. It’s not my fault of course, and I blame Esquire magazine...
It’s no secret how I feel about Victoria’s Secret. When I’m in the store, a forty-five to sixty minute trip from my house so I don...
With a pretty significant birthday staring me in the face and the lines on my forehead forming a six lane freeway with little off ramps headed toward...