i anticipated to awake in a rage. fists in the air, ready to scrap with puppies, the elderly, the angels, and whomever else wanted to butter my hurting heart. that bastard cancer has devoured another loved one. and, AGAIN, last week i received the infuriating news...
i can’t contain my fuss. orange county has caught up with new york and los angeles. we finally have our first, full body, indoor cycling studio. and i’m back-flipping, out-of-my-mind, wanting to vomit, thrilled, i am a part of the team. full psycle...
usually i have sump-in. a quip. a gush. a rant. a peace sign. a white flag a’waving. this week: nada. you’ve rendered me quiet. both hands stacked over my mouth, in disbelief; imprisoning non-existent words. you’ve made me feel small with your...
i struggle at many things. pedicures for one. i suck at pedicures. even with navy seal precision, and tongue-out-of-my-mouth concentration, my toes still look as if i painted them blindfolded. and drunk. and no matter how careful i am when i pay someone else to...
i wish to unfold my body. i long to lengthen, wall-post to wall-post. limbs and fabric grappling for space as i fingertip to pinkie-toe my spot on the playground. i crave more nights under a flashing paparazzi sky. an on-foot, nomadic counsel with the stars {and...
yesterday in yoga as i reached my left arm skyward, like a sun thirsty bamboo stalk, i felt so jubilant i practically glowed fluorescent. stridently transitioning from pose to pose, with protractor attention to form and rumi-like rapture on our spirits, this was not...
