small respite

It’s not often nowadays that the man and I sit down and watch a movie sans devices and distractions.  And yet, somehow, last night we did just that completely out of the blue.  Finished with our Downton catch up, we noticed a movie that we’d both be hankering to see – and so, we watched.

Lasse Hallstrom’s “The 100 Foot Journey” is everything that is good about food. Food is wondrous, and beautiful and creative and sensual.  It is all things and no things — that’s sort of how I feel about the intangibility of it.

There are some film shots in the movie that made me fall in love with cooking all over again — and I’ve had a very long love affair with food.

It’s a simple and gentle film — it doesn’t sucker punch you, and it makes you fall in love with the beauty of France, even if you didn’t mean to.

It’s been a long and winding week.  Some good news, some excitement, a lot of stress and pressure for the end of the month.  And last night I dreamt of whisking fresh eggs in the French countryside.  That’s how visceral the film was. And human, in a Hollywood sort of way.

It’s exactly what I needed.

monday monday

Writing every night of this month has really taught me something about discipline.  And what I want to put out into the world.

I have to confess something.  I was nearly asleep on Saturday night at my parents house — I could hear the voices of my husband and parents around the table drinking scotch and celebrating Rabbi Burns.  And I realized, in my champagne haze, that I hadn’t blogged.  Which seemed ironic, since I’d spent my writing time on Friday night talking about blogging consistently.

So, in light of all that had transpired on Saturday, I somehow managed to tap out a few sentences on my cell phone and then promptly fell asleep.

I didn’t really remember exactly what I’d written — fatigue and several glasses of champagne are not the best combination.  But when I revisited it, I was a little struck by the rawness, the real-ness.  Writing is such an art — somehow using words to sculpt imaginary worlds — or paint pictures of one’s reality.

If blogging every night has taught me anything, it’s the power of language, the power of words.  Sometimes I’m introspective, sometimes I’m mundane, sometimes I’m full of excitement and energy.  Sometimes I’m just — blah.  But sitting here every night, trying to form a cohesive piece of writing — it’s been so helpful, such constructive discipline.  I’m glad I keep putting the effort forth, even when I think I have nothing to say.

Sunday musings

This has been a weekend.

I think that John and I have just embarked on the crazy adventure of buying our first house.  I mean — I know we have, but it feels completely surreal.  We are now totally obsessed with furniture arrangements, sound systems, flooring, tiles … you get my point.  And they haven’t even broken ground yet.

Yeah, you heard me.  Construction hasn’t even begun.

There are many emotions that we have felt in the past day and a half.  I can say without a doubt that cutting a check as huge as is necessary to buy a house makes a person feel a little faint.  But knowing that we have been able to pick every detail we want and we can still afford it?  That verges on euphoric.

Here’s the thing.  A little less than six years ago, the idea of the man and I buying a house — any house really — was comic.  We have come so far, that our lives are nearly unrecognizable.  So it’s a little hard not to be over the moon at this latest progression.

I’m also focusing on this new, big, amazing adventure, because life isn’t very fair.  And if I didn’t know that (which, to be honest, I sort of did) I most assuredly learned it yesterday.

So, in the spirit of all that this weekend held, I just want to say, I love my husband, I love my brother and I have the most incredible parents in the entire world.  I could never properly express my love for them. I am beyond blessed — in fact, there is not a word in the English language that adequately describes the incredible people I am lucky enough to be surrounded by.

For now, that is all.

What the —

Sometimes, no matter how normal a day seems – no matter how mundane – something happens that steals the air right out of your lungs.

And nothing can change it. Or take it back.

It’s just there – real and red and sore.

That’s just life, y’know?  That’s just how life fucks you and doesn’t even care.

resolution check in

So, we’re twenty-three days into the new year, and upon reflection, I’m not sure that I’ve been very attentive to any of my resolutions.  I have, however, been very good at doing much more trivial things.  For example — I have taken my vitamins every day this month.  So far.  That’s a small miracle.

And, even though some days I’ve written a bunch of b.s., I have blogged every single day since January the first.  Amazing!

And I’ve also started using moisturizer every day.  (That’s a big thing, because I have no problem slathering the moisturizer on my face, but I really hate spending the time to moisturize my whole body.  I mean — it’s beyond tedious).

And I have had a minimum of sixty ounces of water a day.  Which still isn’t enough, but it’s a good effort.  Although I must admit that I am a little bit of a camel, and I usually drink a boatload of water a day anyway.

But learning Spanish and playing my keyboard?  Yeah, I haven’t done those things.  And while I have left Facebook and Instagram off my phone, Twitter is back, because, well, just because.  That’s why.

And I have completely failed at beginning each day by saying “Today is going to be a good day.”  I have sporadically remembered — and when I do I am very proud of myself.  And I also think it totally makes a difference.  But as far as forming a new habit?  Yeah, I have a little ways to go.

And being better about eating?  Yeah — haven’t even gotten to that yet.  First, because this January has been insane, second because the hubs was away and that makes me sad, third because I went to LA for work and it was completely about food and fourth — because eating is a comfort thing for me, and I have needed a lot of comfort.  I know I can be disciplined and focused — I’ve done it in the past.  It’s just finding the mojo and the grit to get started.  Because the first week is really the worst.  And then — well, you start to feel better, you have a little more energy (if you don’t have MS, that is) and sometimes you even lose weight.

I’m actually pretty proud of myself for the blogging and the vitamin-taking.  I’ve been such a slacker in the past that to stick with something (even if I’m only at 23 days) feels pretty good.  Sort of like quitting smoking.  At the beginning it was all about counting the days — until it wasn’t.  Until it was totally normal not to smoke, not to stop at gas stations and buy a pack, not to wander outside in the middle of a shift to suck down some nicotine ‘because you just couldn’t get through the rest of the night without it.

So here I am, feeling like absolute death on a Friday night (someone — well, me– might have had one or two glasses of wine too many last night) and I’m going to re-commit to my resolutions and refocus on being kind to myself –both physically and mentally.

I’ll check back in next month.  Hopefully the blogging and vitamin-taking is still going strong.  And hopefully I’ve added to my list.


Sometimes, something comes up, and it is SO exciting, and then it is SO frustrating.

That’s what the hubs and I have discovered about home purchase.

It’s completely insane.  

I feel as though 10% of the time I am over the moon — we’ve found our new home, it’s perfect, etc etc.

And then 90% of the time, everything is either depressing, out of our price range or nowhere near anything we want to be close to.

So, in honor of Thursday –arguably the toughest day of the week after Tuesday (I’m sure I’ll blog about my rankings at some point)– that’s my complete contribution.

Buying a house hits up the entire spectrum of emotions — and it’s tough.


Today has not been my best day.

I realized — and I’m not sure at what point — but all of a sudden I knew that today was an anniversary.  And not necessarily a good one.

Two years ago today I was diagnosed with MS.  It has most definitely been a journey since then — things not really changing, and then things changing irrevocably.

We all have our burdens.  One of my favorite sayings is that if everyone threw their problems into a pile and then were told to pick something back up, we’d all pick up our own troubles.  Or — the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.  Point is still the same.  We’d rather carry that with which we are familiar.  Prior to having MS (ahem, prior to being diagnosed with MS — clearly I’d had it for a long time) I never would have voluntarily picked MS up off a pile of woes.  I would have taken family drama, bad career decisions, horrible relationship choices –you know, things I’d dealt with in the past and had some familiarity with.

Today tears slipped down my nose and landed on my lap as I typed to my husband (sidenote: Skype is our friend) — my biggest fear is the day I realize that that particular January 21st marks the moment when I’ve lived with MS longer than I’ve lived without it.  Granted, I’ll be sixty-six, and hopefully much better adjusted with a much stronger sense of humor — but that moment still scares me.  He did a great job of cheering me up — reminding me that I was being absurdly morose.

And I wiped my eyes, and shook my head and told myself to get it together — that I was stronger than all this crapola.  And then John was home, and things felt a little less bleak, and my breath evened out, and I realized — it’s just another day.

And what I should be really disappointed about was the supreme lack of snow after major forecast build-ups.  And that I have the best husband, and the cutest dog — and amazing co-workers, and fantastic family.  And the blessings vastly outweigh the burdens.

But — in the deepest, darkest part of my heart — that doesn’t take away the MS.  And that’s the truth.


So, a little bit ago I posted a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote and in order to do so, I had to google it.  And it brought a wealth of quotes by Emerson into my life.  i figured I’d share a few today, sort of pay it forward to whomever may read this blog.

“Treat a man as he is, and he will remain as he is.  Tread a man as he could be, and he will become what he should be.”

“The only way to have a friend is to be one.”

“What you do speaks so loudly, I cannot hear what you say.”

“The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.”

“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.”

“Dare to live the life you have dreamed for yourself.  Go forward and make your dreams come true.”

“Once you have made a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.”

“Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be.”

“Be silly.  Be honest.  Be kind.”


All these quotes make my mind and my soul happy.  I hope they do the same for you.


funny women

I am currently curled up on my couch, in my comfy clothes, and we are watching a recording of the most recent SNL.  (So far, it’s pretty good!).

Point being — I’m home.  And it feels glorious.

I spent much of my flight out and my flight home reading both Amy Poehler and Tina Fey’s books.  They are both wildly fantastic.  Reading their books — those funny, savvy, smart and powerful women — it’s been sort of phenomenal.  It’s inspiring, encouraging — and best of all, hilarious.


I have been staring at this blog post, completely unable to form sentences due to fatigue.  Traveling really takes it out of me.  I really wish I could keep writing about strong female role models and successful women.  But I am so wiped, I can’t even focus.

I guess the thing I wanted to say — with many more words than I’m using right now — would be that strong women who have made a difference are the coolest.  I go to work every day, the only female upper management in my company, and it can be challenging on many levels.  There are things that are nearly impossible to explain to male counterparts, or even my husband. (Not because he doesn’t want to understand, but because he just can’t).  Reading those books, about two seriously talented and incredible women — it helps keep the humor.

And man, did I laugh a lot.  Much better than reading things that bring you down.


I have a lot of things on my mind.

But mostly, I just want to curl up on the bed in this sunny, pretty hotel room, wake up and then go home.  Which I realize is both lame and ungrateful.  But I’m so tired, and I just want to be in my own house ….  I have fully accepted that as much as I love travelling, I also really love being at home.

The weather in West Hollywood has been perfection.  I mean — just utterly beautiful.  But — and I know this is going to sound weird — there’s something odd about hanging poolside with a bunch of my male co-workers.  It doesn’t sound very fun.  It sounds kinda stressful.  Definitely not relaxing.  And they probably aren’t as hyper-aware of it as I am, but I definitely feel being the only female.  Additionally, the only female who also happens to have MS.

This is not a pity party.  I am still in LA enjoying great weather, great food and great bonding time with my work team.  I think I just have a case of the Januarys, and I miss my husband.  And I’m tired and feeling very MS-y.

On the plusplus side — there’s football on today.