I initially published a version of this post back in January, but in light of Judy Blumes announcement of her battle with breast cancer, I thought it was a nice shout to the woman who taught me about sex. Sort of. Enjoy.
I wrote this in honor of Passover AND Cher: I invited Cher, Baruch Hashem, to my parents house last year for Pesach. It had been on my to do list for quite some time, but well, you know how it is. Life just seems to get in the way, and shit is put off for yet another day. But I finally moved it to the top of my list.
I’d like to think that I am a relatively sane person, although “insane” has been bandied about every now and again when describing my behavior. However, in the insane/sane production credits last night, insane definitely got top billing.
It wasn’t long ago that I was laying in a fetal position, a big ball of regret, confusion and hopelessness, on the cold (and dusty) kitchen floor of my studio apartment in New York, located at the mouth of the Lincoln Tunnel. The depression that I have endured since I was a child had come back with a vengeance, testing my strength, resolve and ability to get up off of the floor.
My neighbor recently accosted me outside my house, as I was getting my mail. I say neighbor because I don’t actually know her name. I only know her as Mustang Sally because, well, she drives a white Mustang, and I like the song. I’ve got both my boyfriend and his son singing it every time they see her car in the driveway.
In my continued struggle with boundaries and appropriate parenting, I found myself at dinner last night with my boyfriend, his daughter and her boyfriend – talking about bongs, sensimilla and one-hitters, oh my.
Guess who’s coming to dinner… and staying for a month?! If you guessed a dapper black man named Sidney Poitier, sadly, you would be wrong. The answer: my boyfriends 18 year-old daughter. Ahh!
I recently got hired as a Pilates instructor at a large and very chi-chi health club.Management asked if I would offer free demos to their members, as a way to introduce them to the Pilates method and also to meet me.
I live in a small beach town in New Jersey and as my profile states, no, I do not know Snooki. I don’t lunch with any of the Housewives of New Jersey either. Although I’d love to be their personal Pilates instructor, so if anyone has an in, let me know.
My Lover and I were talking the other day about his twelve-year-old son having his first girlfriend. And I realized Im not sure I can remember what girlfriend and boyfriend meant in seventh grade.