So. Here we are. A year ago today, I started an experiment to see where life could take me if I quit a job that was making me increasingly despondent and pursued an entirely different life. I had a long list of assumptions about the year and a whole world of expectations. Nice to see
I must preface this blog with the admission that I have only heard about this specimen sighting and was not an actual witness to these statements or sentiments (and possible rending of cloth). My friend L has met two men who were lamenting over the fact that they can never find women to date because
I received an email from Natasha Chesler (writer, producer, director and choreographer) about a live show coming to the Roxy at the end of April (April 28-May 1), and I had to share with you because material that explores the lunacy of the LA dating world always grabs me. This live show was created around
I have really good intentions when it comes to exercise—loads of them, really. I read all the yahoo and msn articles about working out. I glance at Shape Magazine at least once or twice before buying a home decorating magazine at the newsstands. I watch Judy Greer’s Reluctantly Healthy. The problem is I rarely see
I seem to do everything just a bit out of step with the rest of the world. I want to believe that this makes me creative and unique. In actuality, it probably makes me delusional and provides proof that I have no sense of timing. Case in point: most girls have their first pointe class
My year of experimentation is just days away from coming to a close. It is stunning to me how fast time has gone by and a little frightening. I had hoped that by now people would be throwing money at me because I’d already become this much sought after writer/producer/travel blogger/modern-day philosopher. I haven’t given
Blast from the Past Do you ever suddenly, absolutely need to hear a song that you probably haven’t heard for 15-20 years? That was me last night. I was overcome with the need to hear “The Flame” by Cheap Trick. I don’t remember ever owning the song before—in fact, I don’t remember owning a Cheap
Someone full of wisdom recently told me about a journal called “642 Things to Write.” Basically, each page has a prompt for a writing assignment. Since I’m frequently staring at a blank page desperately seeking inspiration, this item seemed like a must buy. Let’s just hope it becomes something I actually use because, alas, I’m
Undoubtedly, most of you took a gander at this article today (http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/thirty-three-happiest-age-says-study-193446415.html) while trying desperately to ignore how much you hate the sound of your boss’s voice, or the inane questions of the guy who sits across from you. It didn’t work, of course, but it was a temporary respite, I’m sure. I read this