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  1. The Men all Pause

    August 24, 2016 by admin

    “when I walk into the room, the men all pause”.

    Remember that song?  I sure do.  Friday night at the Red Onion or Bentleys you could find me on the dance floor kick ball-changing and pas-de-buerreing to all the best dance music.  Guys would wait by the side and eventually one of them would get the nerve up to dance with us.  We thought we were pretty amazing, putting on a show.

    I was just at a friend’s 10th anniversary party, it was such a beautiful party held outside at their new house along the water in the Hamptons.  They had a dance floor set up and after dinner the music started so of course I got out there right away.  While trying to find my groove, I started getting really hot and sweaty and realized yet another hot flash was taking over me, I have them day and night.  Now I dance to a different tune… “The men-o-pause when I walk into the room”.

    It’s really odd that one day you wake up and you’re in menopause.  You never think it’s going to happen to you.  I literally sweat day and night.  I sleep naked with no covers and Ken is wrapped like a pig-in-a-blanket in our comforter, shivering from the low air con temperature I continually have it on.  I’m not crying a lot but I DO want to punch people in the face daily, even my sweet, loving husband’s.  No wonder so many people get divorced in the their fifties.  If he says “did you have a good night’s sleep honey?” I’m like, why the hell is he asking me that, goddamn son of a bitch!  I am noticing all those hormone cream ads in magazines where they have sharply dressed women at a restaurant sitting around the lunch table with smiles on their faces because they use this cream and are finally able to have sex that’s not horribly painful.  Or maybe they are smiling because they are out to lunch and eating fries with white wine, I don’t know.  And don’t even get me started that coffee and alcohol exacerbate the hot flashes because that will make me want to punch you in the face.

     

    William, our new goat (sculpture)

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  2. Summer-izing

    August 17, 2016 by admin

    Here’s the summer summary of 2016 so far…

    Ken’s Birthday weekend in the Hamptons

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    Wedding in Vermont

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    Wine Country Tour on the North Fork

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    London

    Kew Gardens

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    Windsor Castle and Eton bike tour

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    Opening of Westfield World Trade Center Shopping, John Legend performs

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    Breakfast by Ken

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  3. NYC has gone to the dogs

    August 17, 2016 by admin

    Ken, Jenny and I were recently walking through Central Park when a woman pushing a stroller walked by with her precious little dog.  The three of us stopped her to pet her dog and ask her what type of dog it was.  After much oohing and ahhing over this sweet little pup, Ken came out of the dog trance realizing there was a newborn in the stroller and quickly responded, “oh, your baby is really adorable too!”.  The woman calmly said, “It’s okay, happens all the time.  New Yorkers don’t care about babies, they only care about dogs”.


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  4. And all that jazz

    April 3, 2016 by admin

    At around the age of 22, knees hurting and a new life chapter achingly awaiting, I decided to quit dancing after more than 11 years of plies, triple time-steps and head rolls.  I was still recovering from the shock of losing my father and needed more stability, i.e., a steady paycheck.  I folded up the leg warmers, boxed up the tap, jazz and ballet shoes and put my jazz hands to use on a computer finding my way to corporate America!  I really liked being in the professional world of pie chart reports, conference room meetings and the closed-door chatter on IRR, NOI and PMS.  Nobody loves a pencil skirt with a great pair of heels more than I do and I’m proud to say that I can run down a hallway wearing both!  I also love a bonus check which I would spend every dime of on a fabulous vacation (I was never good at “saving for a rainy day”, it never rains in California!).  I spent a good 26 years in different companies, some better than others, but they were mostly good years and by that I mean that it would take 2 plus novels to write about those years and too many of the characters are still alive so I’ll just leave it at that for now.

    So now back at present day I decide that I miss dancing, really really miss dancing and sign myself up for a beginning jazz class at Broadway Dance Center, literally in the heart of Broadway (THE Broadway,  people).  The first 45 minutes are warm up and movement and it’s a piece of cake.  Then the instructor starts the dance combination and after the first 8 counts I turn into Lucy Ricardo trying to get through a number at Ricky’s club.  Think Jerry Lewis in “Hollywood or Bust” or Jerry Lewis in any Jerry Lewis movie for that matter.  When the teacher was moving into the 3rd count of 8, I moved towards my purse and promptly headed out the door.  I managed to make it out of the studio before the purple of my bruised ego started to show and the tears started welling.  It only took me two years to get over that day but I’m proud to announce I’ve since started tap classes again and I’m doing GREAT!  I don’t know why my muscle memory for tap is so much better but I’m happy it’s there and I go every week.  Who knows, before long I may be on my way back to BROADWAY!   “a five, six, seven, EIGHT!”

    Well, there’s always skiing…


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  5. This just in

    February 2, 2016 by admin

    If you know me than you know I love to travel and nothing has ever stopped me from going somewhere I want to go.  Once I even joined thousands inside St. Peter’s Cathedral to see Pope John Paul giving a beatification ceremony and it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.  Sardines packed tightly in a metal box had nothing on us.  I was packed in by crazy Catholics…in olive oil…couldn’t move nor breathe which led to my first anxiety attack.  Am I just getting old or does it seem like there’s something going on everywhere?!  Zika virus is spreading.  ISIS has recruited nut jobs to plot evil near our favorite European cities, Sweden (our equal, fair and ever-boring Sweden) has large amounts of neo-nazi’s lurking in masks,  Africa, well let’s face it, something is always going on there and now China is there too wreaking havoc, where is one supposed to travel in peace?!  California has an ongoing gas leak, Texas has open-carry laws making sure you can get wasted or go to college (simultaneously more likely) while packing heat, in Wisconsin you’ll be killed “accidentally” by a hunter, in NYC you’ll be killed by a taxi driver while crossing the street, in Yellowstone Park you’ll be gorged by a Bison but only if you try to get close and take a selfie.  Sometimes I want to gorge people taking selfies.

    And you know what else, the skinny jean is over.  That’s right folks, take it in slowly, breathe.  We saw signs of this last year in Paris and London, Chloe’s last resort collection pretty much showed us the future but now Brooklyn is on board with Manhattan to follow shortly.  Of course it will take years to reach the suburbs of Colorado, they just barely stopped wearing the low-cut, thong-baring, muffin-top creating pairs, ala young (or old) Britney Spears.  Big changes like this take time and let’s be honest, we have so many pairs what will happen to them?!   We could try making jean purses again or maybe doggie jean jackets?  Those never go out of style.

    Don’t be scared, change is good.

     

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  6. Hashtag this

    December 17, 2015 by admin

    I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been a little on edge lately.  Is it the hectic holiday season?  Is it because we’re moving…again?  Is it ISIS?  No, no, no, no, no, noooooooo it’s none of those things.

    It’s Donald Trump.  He’s everywhere.  EVERYWHERE!  He’s on the radio, the TV, the “internet”.  He was even in my dream although not last night’s, in that dream I was in an episode of Girls and Lena Dunham and I were having a really witty and clever conversation about the Lower East Side vs. West Village restaurants and overall vibe while eating a white fluffy cake with a cherry on it.  Swear to god but back to Trump.  He’s leading the Republican polls which just shows you that bigotry, racism and stupidity are alive and well in America.  Admittedly, the wing nuts running beside him aren’t much better but they ARE quieter.  When you see all those poorly dressed, angry, white, middle-aged and elderly people at his rallys (let’s not forget the ones that give the Heil Hitler) you wonder what in the hell are they so angry about?!  If you were born in America and are straight and white, you have absolutely nothing to be angry about.  You had life handed to you on a silver platter, every opportunity and have nobody to blame for your failures other than you.  Stop your sobbing.  Stop being angry and stop hating on everyone that doesn’t look like you, read your bible, uses Planned Parenthood, wants to marry their same-sex partner and believes that climate change is real thing that we contribute to!

    It’s my blog and I’ll rant if I want to.  I’m going to go have some wine and watch the Judy Garland Christmas special again.  I suggest you do the same.

    #dumptrump #trumpsachump #dothehumptytrump #givetrumpalump #stoptrumpatthepump #trumpgavemethemumps #bumptrump #trumpshairclumps #withtrumpiaminthedumps #nomoreplumpingtrumpsego

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  7. A Bubbly Life

    December 11, 2015 by admin

    They say God doesn’t give you more than you can handle but I’m pretty sure there are people in mental institutions who would disagree.   Life can be hard!  But I believe if you have a roof over your head, people you love who love you back and have a curiosity and passion for life, it can help get you  through the difficult times.   I have a wonderful (French Senegalese) friend who told me the secret to his 40 year relationship is that he insisted as long as there is champagne and a housekeeper things will be fine.  I’ll drink to that amazing advise.

    When I was young, before I ever considered kids, I wanted large amounts of animals.  I’m not sure if that was before or after I learned that a baby comes out of a tiny opening between one’s legs or that you are responsible for it for at least 18 years, possibly life.  And it certainly didn’t help that I learned about sex at a tender young age while my ear was pressed to my sister’s bedroom door as she and her friend discussed things I couldn’t believe were true, let alone something my parents did 6 times!!  So it goes that an animal sanctuary filled with young and old dogs, goats and potbelly pigs just seemed easier and more palpable.

    Except for actually liking physical contact with a male, not much has changed.  I still want a ranch house with a huge yard filled with all kinds of animals (and a ranch hand to help me out for godssakes).  I want to give a good life to as many abandoned, hungry, sick, or just plain sweet and homeless animals I can find.  I also want a wine bar, world peace and a flat stomach but I believe a girl should have lots of dreams, one or two…will not do!   And lots of champagne and a housekeeper please.

    In the meantime, I shall give my time, money (Ken’s) and efforts to helping those groups helping the animals.  Here are just of few.

    Best Friends Animal Organization

    Sea Shepherd Global

    Guardians of Rescue

    Mercy for Animals

     

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  8. Bernie’s Tale

    October 21, 2015 by admin

    Bernie just turned 11 years old.  Last year when he turned 10 I thought it was time to honor his life and tell the tale of that fateful day in September of 2009.  Apparently that was not the case because I’m now telling it a year later.

    I had just quit my job and was starting my new life with Ken.  We knew we were moving to China in several months and thought we should start living together as soon as possible.  Ken had a job in Aspen at the time and we were there for about two weeks when I left for LA to get home and pack for the move.  I left Bernie with him because he was going to fly back a few days later on a company jet and Bernie could fly easily with him.  I flew home economy, just wanted to add that.  The day after I got home I was getting ready for my garage sale.   It was a very difficult time you know, selling my my early 1960’s stand-alone bar to some bearded hipster, practically giving away a late 60’s bright green hanging chandelier and most notably having to part with the blue suede Bottega Veneta wedges I paid a fortune for but simply couldn’t wear for more than 5 minutes.   I would be leaving my Silverlake cottage behind with my sister living next door which meant no more girl’s nights watching Project Runway with pop corn in bed, no more late nights dancing to Chaka Khan, no more drunken nights spent at the Conq, blah, blah, blah, there were tears involved.

    Midway through the garage sale I got the call from Ken.  Bernie was inside the rental car parked outside the office and somehow managed to injure his spinal cord (probably flying around the seats after spotting a squirrel).  He would be driving him to a neurology specialist in Denver for an MRI which would then confirm a very bad bruising of the spinal cord but fortunately no break.  He was paralyzed in all 4 legs but the doctor was fairly certain he’d regain the use of the back legs at some point and we’d just have to hope for the front legs.  Whoa.

    After spending a week in the hospital they told me he should now be home with me to recuperate.  The doctor said he has a better chance of regaining his legs because he has a very strong will and a huge desire to move.  When I picked him up at the hospital they handed him over like he was a pillow I was supposed to make a bed with.  Limp and lifeless.  He gave me a stare right through to my soul that said he was happy to see me and WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED AND WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?

    The first month was really hard, I was frustrated and cried often.  I had to carry him out to pee and poop and lay him on the ground.  I never knew when he had to go so it was constant.  I bought him a stroller and would take him out for walks and eventually down to the Pain Quotidien so I could sit outside and enjoy a cappuccino.  One day a woman sitting next to me asked me, “why don’t you just let him walk?”.  I took another sip of coffee, pulled a 9-millimeter out of the side stroller pocket and shot her.  Not really, I just calmly explained he’s PARALYZED and then wondered, “what was your reasoning behind wearing bedazzled pink sweatpants and porn shoes??!!”.

    He soon began getting strength in his back legs.  I knew this when one day we were walking in my neighborhood and a squirrel ran across the stroller and his back legs sprang so hard he flew out of the stroller.   I also took him 3 times a week to a rehab center where he did all kinds of therapies including swimming, massage and ultra sound and this it what really got him back on his feet, so to speak.  It is also why he was nicknamed the Ten Thousand Dollar Dog (thank you Ken).  His front legs eventually came back too, they aren’t 100% but they are better than most other dogs.  Not long after he recovered we moved to China where he had a whole new set of experiences.  For those stories you just have to go back to this blog’s very beginning.

    That’s Bernie’s Tale, one of them anyway, but the one that bonded us in a very special way.

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  9. Chia Seeds made me fat

    October 13, 2015 by admin

    Not really, but I know they’re good for you so I try to eat some every morning with my yogurt.  They’re such little buggers it makes me wonder how many I have to eat to get the benefits and how much is too many?  So many things to think about.

    Like how I was thinking this morning that in these times of upcoming elections, having to see Donald Trump every day in the news, the topic of gun control or abortion it’s hard not to judge people.  We assume that people who want to own 15 assault rifles are bad people, killers or even sociopaths.  Frankly, I’m most certain they are but we don’t have to judge.

    I pride myself on my ability to accept others and their differences. My parents taught me this and I try to carry it on. Find the g0od in all or the God in the good (did I just make that up?) whatever, we are all one and should treat each other with respect and that includes drunk commenting on Facebook.  The only thing I can’t or won’t tolerate is someone who doesn’t like avocados.   I just can’t.  How do you NOT like them? It can’t be a texture thing.  A sweet or sour thing. It’s impossible to understand and makes me think they are just bad people.  I mean really.

    But I digress.  I was in London last weekend and attended the Dolphins vs. Jets game.  I know, I know, the Dolphins lost (so not pretty), the coach got fired the next day but since I’m not the owner it was a really really fun time!  We also enjoyed an incredible dinner and dancing at 5 Hercourt Place, cheered the Dolphins on at Wembley stadium and met Dan Marino who is my new BFF.   To top it off, when we returned home to Water Mill there were turkeys in the meadow!!!  I love them, no judgement.

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  10. You’re funny, god.

    September 17, 2015 by admin

    Ken is allergic to mosquito bites.  We know this because if he should get even one bite it swells up into a blister, drives him mad with itching and in turn he will drive me to madness with his endless complaining.  “I couldn’t work all day”.  “The itching kept me up all night”.  “I think one got in through the front door”.  We live on the 51st floor of an apartment complex, lest you forget.

    Okay so this is how I know there’s a God and he has a wicked sense of humor, or Karma as some like to call it.  We’re back in the city on a really humid night and walking the dogs.  I have a short summer dress on.  We do our usual walk, 20 minutes, come home and I notice about 25 mosquito bites on one leg!  The other leg only had about 10.  They were all over, up and down my leg, in between my toes and up my thigh which got me thinking bad thoughts that kept ME up all night.  The itching!!  The swelling!!  I was embarrassed to wear shorts for days.  Jenny came into town the next day and all I did was obsess over it.  “They itch like crazy?”.  “People will think I have the measles!”.   I’m pretty sure she still loves me though.  Pretty sure.

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