Jumpsuit Nation

I had always assumed jumpsuits weren’t for me. This long torso of mine would ruin the look, I figured. My natural waist is at least two inches lower than where clothing wants it to be.

Approximately two years ago, I bought a jumpsuit on a whim. It fit, but I fussed with it the whole first wearing, tugging the waist to where I wanted it. Unsurprisingly, said jumpsuit largely languishes in the back of my closet.

Still, all summer, I saw so many cute, casual jumpsuits, particularly in my neighborhood and it made me want to try again.

That is how I became the proud owner of three new jumpsuits.

First I found this casual one, in black, from the Gap. I am definitely taking it on my upcoming vacation. Of the three, it’s the easiest to take off in the ladies’ room.😄

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A lighthearted post about food

In an effort to lighten things up from this, that and the other thing around here, let’s talk about food. You like food, right? Of course you do!

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(Gag)

During my time in LA this spring, I had the opportunity to sample some meals from a local private chef. I was staying in an apartment in busy, noisy Hollywood so there wasn’t any room service and I dreaded walking around the tourist-packed neighborhood, looking for carryout. I used Seamless and TryCaviar a bit, but it was much more expensive than in NYC. Continue reading

I miss him

Tomorrow is Monday. For most people, it will be just another work week starting. But for me, it is the worst anniversary: two years since we lost Dad.

July 17 used to be just another summer day, but now it looms like an exam I didn’t study for or a long, painful dental appointment.

As this summer approached, I didn’t think about lounging by the pool or trips to the beach. Instead I thought “was Dad in the hospital by now two years ago?” Anxiety festered inside me as I tried to decide how I should observe the day. I worried “what if I missed the anniversary completely? What if I forgot?”

Maybe someday I won’t dread July 17, but I doubt I will ever forget what happened on that terrible day. Continue reading

Four things I love about LA (and one I don’t)

This spring, I have had the opportunity to spend lots of time in one of my favorite cities, Los Angeles. My most recent trip, a long one of just over two weeks, is about to wrap up which has me thinking about what I will miss.

First, the brightly colored flowers and trees. Even in the scruffiest neighborhood, there are beautiful jacaranda trees and wildflowers.

Second, the weird news. A few weeks ago, the big news was a car that “fell” into someone’s backyard with no sign of a driver. More recently, there was the ‘flying horse.’ There are so many televised car chases that the local NBC affiliate has a dedicated web site section for this type of news AND promises to follow-up on the outcome of each car chase.

Third, the sunshine. I always felt that if I lived here, I’d miss the variety of weather that we have in NYC. Truly, I’m the weirdo who enjoys winter.

But during this longer stay, not only have I realized that LA does have some rainy days and temperature fluctuations to break things up, but I have also experienced a huge, much-needed lift in my energy levels. I even went on a hike!

Fourth, the apparel possibilities. April and May nights in LA have been cool. You can still wear sweaters or jackets plus cute booties without having the seasonal transition weather awkwardness I always feel in NYC. I don’t know why this feels like a revelation. But I swear it is. And I suddenly understand who buys sleeveless sweaters and suede sandals–it’s LA people.

Finally, what don’t I like? Limited access to cats and kittens. Yes, I’m serious. I miss my PS9 friends that much. Fortunately that could be addressed with a little free time and effort.

I’ll be home soon, kitties.

Good news. And yet…

Yesterday was my most recent CT scan. As I mentioned before, I’m slated to have scans every three months for a year.

I prepare myself for the waiting, and yet I still find myself bewildered by the actual experience. In situations like mine, appointments are more suggestion than commitment. It’s the trade-off for accessing a world-class specialist, and for him offering to review your raw test output with you in real time, same day. It’s the knowledge that a patient in my situation will wait pretty much as long as is required to get whatever answers and comfort are available.

There is much variety within the waiting. Am I waiting in the wrong place? Did I arrive on the wrong day? Did I fail to prepare? Or is someone simply out to lunch? Continue reading

I’m not myself right now

I should do something. But I’m so tired. I should go to the gym or write or something. 

It’s Saturday and I’m lying on my bed wearing gym clothes. I didn’t make any plans for the weekend with the exception of Sunday brunch and I’m semi-OK with that. On one hand, I am tired from a lot of recent business travel. On the other, I miss my friends and know I am going to be traveling a ton these next two months so when will I see them?

But back to the first hand. Lounging on my bed with Law & Order playing in the background is all I can seem to do. I don’t even have the energy to visit the cats today.

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Five or six weeks ago, I emailed a therapist specializing in grief counseling to request an appointment. I followed the process spelled out on her web site after going through a painstaking process to identify her as someone who accepted my insurance, didn’t have hellaciously bad reviews online, wasn’t geographically undesirable and maybe-hopefully had a basic web site via which I could confirm the particulars.

She has yet to respond to my initial inquiry, or a follow up one made after three weeks of silence. Thus far, I haven’t been able to make myself place a follow-up phone call. And I absolutely don’t have the energy to cross-reference the thousands of listings of people my insurance company swears take my insurance (not this one) with ZocDoc or Yelp or similar. As a result, I will probably try to make an appointment near home at a place that doesn’t take insurance, but does respond to appointment inquiries and fast. At $300 per session, they are quite ready to sign me up.

But I will figure something out eventually, right?

I don’t feel depressed in the sense that I have before. Depression is not unfamiliar to me. I take medicine and previously worked through the things that hurt me in therapy. The black dog has followed me for as long as I can remember. But it has become manageable. Had.

This part of me isn’t something I had been ashamed of, but I had long felt it was well addressed and I didn’t need to talk about it.

But this is different. I feel flat. There’s so little that excites me. My ‘happy place’ right now is lying in bed playing Words with Friends or sleeping. I cancel plans frequently.

I find it so hard to focus. I feel tired every hour of every day. My body aches. About once a week, spurred by thoughts of my father, I have a big cry. And yes, typing that sentence caused a lump in my throat followed by a rush of tears to my eyes.

I miss Dad so much – the uncomplicated nature of our relationship and the constancy of his support. While we had philosophical disagreements, I always knew he was listening to me, absorbing my thought process and considering it carefully.

Dad’s absence has changed my relationship with my mother too. I knew it would, of course, but the changes are not at all what I expected, making me feel lost in the dark. I thought she would need me more and it’s not that I wish for her to need me more, but I can’t say I understand how to act right now. Additionally, in spite of her strength, I don’t feel like I can tell her how rough I have been feeling, particularly after what I put her through last fall.

Even though I know I have reason not to feel my best, I feel guilty for the fact that I don’t. I feel terrible about my inability to write, or to focus my pitiful attention long enough to read a chapter of a book. I can’t fathom ever pushing myself hard enough to get fit again.

I don’t feel terrible, just low, most days–only some. I’m not sad daily, but my energy level is poor. One day, I am able to power through with smile, more or less. But others, I spend hours in bed. Making small talk, something my livelihood depends on, feels like torture sometimes.

I know from experience that this too shall pass. But in this moment, I can only wish to feel better soon.


It’s Sunday. I wake up excited to have brunch with my friend Brooke and then do a little skincare shopping together. The sun is shining for the first time since I returned from my most recent business trip a few days ago.

On my way home from brunch and shopping, I stop at Whole Foods in hopes of finding some of my favorite ice cream – score! – and then stop by to see the kitties.

 

Some days are easier than others.

How I spent my President’s Day Weekend

Hello friends,

I’ll get back to the blog soon – promise!

How was your holiday weekend? While I, like seemingly a lot of people, am not celebrating #45, I did have an enjoyable President‘s Day Weekend.

I stuck a literal toe into the foot peel realm, using this one from Boscia. Yes, I am nervous about the gross-out potential in the coming week. No, I won’t be sharing pics on social media.

I grabbed margaritas and Mexican food with @full_of_moxie at a place called Fonda in the East Village.

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Tamarind margarita – yum!

 

I sniffled like mad either from a cold or too much kitty time. Oops.

And now it’s time for that old Monday night past time: watching The Bachelor. What will Corinne do this time?!