Because some of you have asked, yes, I am still in Das Boot. I have worn it with jeans, sundresses, cargo pants and skirts. Das Boot helps me get around with less pain but I still hate it. On Tuesday, I see the doctor again. Wish me luck! Advertisements
I’m thinking of adopting a cat. Not just any cat. This cat. His name is Serge. Sergio. Sergei. He’s flexible.
After my terrible summer, I have been hoping for an easier fall. So far, that hasn’t happened. On Saturday after a workout, I went to visit my favorite kittens. PS9 was hopping. A nice couple was in the process of adopting this little furball. I was holding my favorite kitten. Officially she is nameless, […]
I don’t know about you, but Spring is making me Spend. Here is where my money is going right now. These Marc by Marc Jacobs sandals. High, but not too high. For me, the ankle strap is important for comfort. I booked a fresh pedicure appointment right after they arrived in the mail. Gotta be […]
Twitter Spotlights are always fun for me. I love getting to know someone I follow on Twitter. These little interviews are even better when I learn something new about a real life friend. Today you get to meet the wonderful, whip-smart, fearless Adrienne in a special Monday edition of the Twitter Spotlight. I adore her and think […]
Remember Das Boot? I do. Guess what? I am presently in another orthopedic boot, and I am miserable. Nope, I didn’t re injure the ankle I broke. It’s the other foot.
First read Part 1 if you haven’t already. What has two thumbs and took her first gym class in years? After a false start in which I signed up for something called Cardio Video Dance only to realize NOPE), I talked myself into a Vinyasa yoga class. And by “yoga” please know that I don’t […]
I have no class. No fitness class, that is. I have them in that I belong to a gym. I just skip them. Why? I think it started as a rebellion against the years – fourteen years – rigorous, time-consuming dance study I did. By high school, I averaged six classes per week, spread over the course of […]
I didn’t meet my friend Julie’s son Zach when he was first born. Part of it–a big part–was that I broke my ankle the same weekend he was born last May. Add to that Julie and Zach’s residence on the Upper West Side, my well-established laziness and you have a recipe for procrastination. When I finally met Zach, he […]
