The envelope please…

I didn’t watch the Oscars on Sunday night because there was so much information about it online, I felt like I was there. I have my own version of the Oscars especially for the end of 2012 and 2013. Everyone mentioned, get out your designer gowns and tuxedos…not! I’m very informal at my awards ceremony, jeans and T-shirts are fine. And in the hall of my condo, I actually have red carpet, so you can walk on the red carpet. I am the m/c (mental case) – LOL!


Here are the winners…And the Nancy Award goes to…

Appreciation Award of Merit…Greg M.

Director…Denise B.

Best picture…the movie they’re going to make of “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny” in July…it’ll be a cold day in July when they make a movie of “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny”

Best actor…Charles G.

Best actress…Marian G.

Best supporting friend…Karla R.

Best sense of humor…Greg M.

Handiest…Tom F.

Lady Mensch of the Year…Gretchen F.

Best original screenplay: Nancy L. for “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny” (hey, it’s my award, right?)

Best pet…Jay G. III

Best music…Jay & the Cincinnatians

Best original song… “Tasteless” by Jay & the Cincinnatians

Costumes…Nancy Goldberg Levine’s Tasteless T-shirt Seder

Live action short film… “A Day in the Life of the Cincinnati Red Wolves”

Best short story…Ms. Calm, Cool…& Chic by Nancy Goldberg Levine (see above)


Nancy Goldberg Levine is the author of “Sweeter Than W(h)ine” which went live on Amazon Feb. 15th, and “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny” and “Mr. Tall, Tan…& Tasteless,” which are also available on Amazon.






No Place Like Home

Part 2

I just finished reading a wonderful book, “Finding Lucas,” by Samantha Stroh Bailey, and combined that with my friend’s comment on last week’s blog that she wanted to see more detail about the memories of the house where I grew up.

In “Finding Lucas,” the heroine, Jamie, returns to her parents’ home to look for letters and her high school yearbook. This scene was especially poignant to me because it triggered more memories for me. As I write this blog, my parents and I face the possibility that they may not be able to go back home (I hope they can) again and that they’ll have to move to the skilled nursing facility where they’ve been for the past two months.

I remember when I was growing up in that house and how I made up stories about princesses and celebrities and how my parents and teachers always encouraged me to write more. I remember my mom going to my elementary school on parents’ night and seeing a folder filled with my regular school work and another folder of stories I had written. My mom still has the report cards from that time but most of the things I kept that I had written were destroyed in a fire at my condo in 2005.

That red brick house on Sunnybrook Drive was the place where I dreamed and plotted out books, where I went out on my first date (chaperoned with the guys parents driving and taking us out to eat), and where I stayed for a few days and cried and tried to deal with the love of my life passing away. It was the place where I watched the movie “The Wizard of Oz” for the first time after an afternoon of playing in the snow, and then drinking my mom’s hot chocolate. I remember the books I read…”A Little Princess,” “The Secret Garden,” “Anne of Green Gables,” and “Gone with the Wind.” It was the place where my boyfriend (then husband) and his friend introduced me to the game of “Risk,” which I didn’t like. I can’t watch the episode of “Seinfeld” when Kramer and Newman are playing risk without remembering that evening.

As I sit here typing, I’m starting to cry but, as Lorrie, the heroine of “Mr. Tall, Tan…& Tasteless” would say “this is a good cry.”


Nancy Goldberg Levine is the author of “Sweeter Than W(h)ine,” which is live on Amazon as of Feb. 16, “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny,” and “Mr. Tall, Tan…& Tasteless.”

No Place Like Home

If you have been following this blog, you know that my parents are in a skilled nursing facility for rehab. Today we learned that they may have to stay there and possibly sell their home.

I have been going back to the home where I grew up to bring them things and whenever I go there, I am flooded with memories. I grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, in the suburb of Roselawn. I was an only child, so I relied on my imagination and as I grew up, I started to write stories. I still have friends who are “brothers” and “sisters,” and imaginary brothers and sisters in my characters as well.

Since the name of the blog is “Laugh With Me,” I’ll try to concentrate on funny memories of my home.

When I was about eight, I got a cat and had a “kitty wedding” between my cat, Sugar, and “Big Red,” an orange tom cat who used to hang around. I even had a kitty rabbi who officiated.

When my husband (then boyfriend) and I went on a hayride date, there was a “mock wedding,” so when he returned to my parents’ house, he carried me over the threshold.

We watched and listened to many a Cincinnati Reds baseball game.

There were many parties and lots of fun in the house where I grew up. There was always an assortment of friends who came to visit, and plenty of good food and memories.

I will miss my home, and I’m sure I’ll continue to write about it in my books.

What about you? Do you have memories of the home where you grew up? Do you write about it in your books?

First Kiss

When I worked for a small, weekly newspaper, I won a contest sponsored by another paper for describing my first kiss. It wasn’t a big, sweeping romantic gesture but a quick peck in the coat room after dancing class when I was about eleven.

Now I write humorous romantic comedies, and in honor of Valentine’s Day, I give you excerpts from “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny” and “Mr. Tall, Tan…& Tasteless,” with descriptions of the hero and heroine’s first kisses…


She raced out the door and found Jay standing near the Ohio River. Snow fell on his black baseball cap and all over his red plaid shirt jacket. The lights of Cincinnati shone in the sky, but there were no teasing lights in Jay’s eyes.

“Hi, honey,” he said.

“Hi,” she said. “My dad thought…I didn’t tell you…what I mean is that I don’t know you that well yet, so I didn’t say that my dad’s in the early stages of dementia.” Translation: she’d been afraid to tell him because she thought he’d be just like her ex, or the few other guys she’d dated, and run for the hills.

Reese felt his strong arms as he pulled her close. She enjoyed the warmth and softness of his flannel shirt against her skin. She couldn’t move away when he kissed her and in that moment, all thoughts of her dad were forgotten. She lost herself in Jay’s kisses, feeling the magic of desire on that cold, winter night. She inhaled the scent of his after shave, reveling in his embrace. She tried to tell herself that this was crazy. She’d only known him for a short time, but he made her feel like she’d known him her whole life. When he called her “honey,” and looked at her with those chocolate brown eyes, she fell under his spell. He pressed his slim body against hers. The warmth of his touch warded off the chill in the crisp, night air.

When they finally finished kissing, Jay held out his hand to her. His strong grip made her feel that everything would be all right from now on.


“It’s awfully quiet in the den,” Scotty said. “I’d better go see if they killed each other yet.”  He came back a moment later, grinning widely.

                    “What were they doing?”


                    Lorrie didn’t understand what the big secret was. Scotty stood close to her, looking oh-so-handsome, and not being a smart-aleck at all. She inhaled the scent of freshly-washed laundry, and didn’t know whether it was Scotty’s soap or cologne.

                    “Lorrie, I…”


                    “Reese and Jay are kissing in the den. After what happened to you the other night, I don’t want to make any sudden moves, but I do want to kiss you.”

                    Lorrie felt a strange sensation inside, and a heat building up that made her feel like she had a fever, although she was in the best of health. It was sweet of him to be so nice, but when she saw him she forgot all about the other night.  Thinking of Don Rivers and Scotty at the same time bothered her.  She didn’t want the other night to intrude on the memories of her old attraction.  “I want you to.”

                     “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to behave like the stupid jerk from the dinner party.”

                    “You couldn’t ever do that,” Lorrie said. “You’re not a jerk.”


                     Scotty moved even closer and pulled her up until she was just inches away from him. She loved the warmth she felt when he held her in his arms right up against his chest. She looked up into his blue eyes, and could see that there was no teasing sparkle in them. Scotty was earnest, serious and determined to kiss her without making the situation any more awkward than it was.

                    Scotty, too, had had several serious relationships, and Lorrie was sure that he wasn’t a virgin, like her. First there had been his high-school girlfriend, who had been killed in a hit-and-run car wreck. Then there was the transition girl, and another woman from college. It hadn’t even been a year since Scotty had broken up with her.

                      His kiss was filled with tenderness, as well as experience. Lorrie didn’t want to enjoy it, but she did. His kiss was long and slow, and Lorrie liked it. Liked it? No. She loved it. 

                      She took in his fresh scent, and the softness of his polo shirt against her skin.  She was shorter, so she had to stand on tiptoe to reach him. She loved the feel of him against her, and the sweet awareness of his embrace.

                      “Scotty…” She wanted to say something, anything. On the other hand, she longed to stand there and enjoy his presence.  She heard the drip drip of the leaky faucet in the kitchen. She’d have to ask Jay about fixing it; she didn’t do any household repairs. She knew absolutely nothing about fixing a dripping faucet.

                      She stood there, looking up at Scotty, waiting for him to kiss her again.

          “Well, it looks like somebody won tonight.”



Do you remember your first kiss? What about your hero and heroine? If you’ve enjoyed these excerpts, I hope you’ll look for “Mr. Short, Dark…& Funny” and “Mr. Tall, Tan…& Tasteless” on the Nancy Goldberg Levine author page on