Self

(thank you Celine Geiger for today’s blog inspiration) Thursday is my 1/2 birthday, specifically the last 1/2 birthday before I turn 30. So six months from this Thursday, my 20s will be over. Thank god it’ll be in the 70s and sunny when this will happens upon me.  I am working on figuring out my feelings about this fairly momentous milestone, but in the meantime …

Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, and a very Happy-The-Mayans-Were-Wrong to you all.  I took a nice, long break over the past three weeks to visit with family and friends on the East Coast, but now I’m back in L.A. action with my new year’s resolutions in tow. I, like many over-achieving over-planners with a mild to medium case of OCD LOVE New Year’s resolutions. When …

(The above is a photo of my ridiculously happy face while holding Zadie  who will not be fully featured on the blog because she is not old enough for Internet fame.) I spent all day yesterday with Baby Zadie and her mom, Carly. As you may recall, Baby Zadie is the most perfect baby that there ever has been, a fact I can now confirm …

Aside from world peace, a healthy 2013, and a puppy for R (that I magically don’t have to walk!), here is what I would like to receive in commemoration for a day that is in no way my birthday. (Apologies in advance to the people who have already purchased my 2012 Christmas gifts. I forgot this blog post was a “tradition” until I couldn’t think …

Last night’s episode of NEW GIRL was called “Eggs” (baby, not breakfast-maker variety), and it raised an important/scary issue that many women approaching their 30s experience. Can you tell me how many viable eggs I have left?  Or, in the words we actually mean, can you tell me exactly  how soon I need to start thinking about having a baby?  SPOILER ALERT: Jess and CeCe …

Hello from my first Los Angeles Thanksgiving. The turkey is the smoker (that one up there. It’s R’s masterpiece), the apple fritter is in my belly (my fave way to start a holiday day), and I’m nestled in to watch the mini bits of Broadway during the parade (slash wait for the Rockettes. I used to want to be a Rockette. I sort of still …