Monday morning you sure look fine. I'm excited for you because I'm getting my hair colored today and I'm going a bit more buttery blonde- yes I am. I'm growing my hair for the first time in years and I need to have some fun. Khan and I are trekking to Soho in a few for a bit of highlights and color.

And no, the title of this post has nothing to do with THAT "doing it", so get your mind out of the gutter, kids. I was thinking over th weekend about the old adage of practice makes perfect, and how any of us can do anything we want in this life as long as we take some time to do it well. Oh and just like the pretty picture above, perfect is boring, so don't let the idea that you may not be perfect at something stop you from doing said "it", whatever "it" may be. If being perfect is your goal, you're most likely going to fail, or get too annoyed to keep working on those things that may at first seem difficult to do.

A friend of mine came to visit me in Brooklyn last week and we got to chatting over some Vietnamese sandwichy things about what's next. If you are a Gen X type, you no doubt have pondered this very question over the past few years, as it's hard to avoid the avalanche of thinking thoughts such as "I just can't do this when I'm 50", or "I better not be doing this when I'm old", or "I'm too old for this shit". It's inevitable really, though I must admit that this line of reasoning was pretty prominent all through my 20s and 30s too. I always was looking to up the ante, regardless of whether or not what I was doing was cool or not. I'm one for options after all.

But check this out- my adorable friend asked me how it's possible that I come up with something to say every single day on this blog. She was puzzled by my ability to write each day and whip up a post come rain or shine. It's a question I've been asked more than a few times, and all I can say is this- if you want to get good at something, you gotta do it almost every day. And whether or not you're a Malcolm Gladwell fan, he had a point when he mentioned in "Outliers" that if you put in enough hours doing something, you're very well going to become an expert at it. He mentioned 10,000 hours, which may sound like an eternity but it's not when you're following your heart.

For instance, I've never had an interest in running a marathon, but I do know that if I worked hard enough to put in the time to train, I could certainly do it. I myself decided to dedicate myself to a career in writing, or at least get back in the game when it comes to having that feeling of ease when I write. As a young person, writing was second nature to me and flowed freely- as I got older, it simply did not, and it broke my heart. Writing every day got me there again, and now it's not only simple but I feel like I'm finding a new passion for sharing my thoughts with others, as well as refining my writing as the days pass. 

It's really all about a practice- we talk about practice mostly as a form of drudgery, but if you think of a practice in terms of a meditative, dedicated hour or two a day to focus on some sort of goal, then it becomes something you really look forward to, even if the goal in itself is just sititng down or standing on your head an hour a day to see if you can do it. This is more aligned with "practice" in the spirtual sense, just like when people talk about yoga in terms of a "practice"- what I have always liked about yoga is that you may very well be a beginner in yoga for years until you experience any sort of advancement in your practice, and that's ok. But when you finally can do a backbend or a head stand, it's pretty outstanding, though certainly not the goal- the goal is more about the hour to shut down and take some time for yourself and your body and mind. The ability to become more flexible as well as have a nice ass are bonus points.

I myself am not one for standing on my head, and to be honest with you, I can be a bit of a quitter when I find something grueling, tedious, or boring. Since I've always been a bit of a "on to the next one" kind of girl, it's not always easy to do something every single day, but as I devoted my time to this blog, I was amazed at how "second nature" it all became- I mean, think about it- do you ever question how you know how to tie your shoes or take a shower? No, right? Because you've done it enough times that it's part of you, part of your day, and part of the fabric of your experience on this Earth. So why should dedicating yourself to finding your passion be any different? I promise you if you do something every day, you're going to get good at it, and the only reason you're not going to is because you quit, and that's that. 

The only kicker is that if you are spending all of your days doing something you hate, it's pretty tough to find that hour to do what you love for some reason. The doing what you hate kind of takes over and doesn't leave much room for the loving. I know that sucks, but it's true. If you can rise above that, you're a better person that me. Sometimes when you ditch that stuff that makes you feel like a toxic waste dump, everything else clears up as well...so maybe for now, use that hour a day to figure out how to get out of Dodge, where Dodge is that situation that is keeping you from all that good lovin'. And on that note, sure it applies to sex, too- if you do it enough- well you know...

Cause that's what's up this LL got it right kind of Monday in the best borough there is...keep doin' it, unless you hate doin' it, then do something else, and never let a fear of not being perfect get in your way, because if you do things perfectly, there's never any room to get better, which is indeed a first class bore. XO

Hello, my Friday you little freak monkey. It's raining on the prairie here in Brooklyn but I'm cool with it...have much to say about seeing Antony and the Johnsons last night, as well as the zen of doing something every day until you're bloody good at it, but you'll have to wait till next week for such musings because it's FIVE FOR FRIDAY, and I'm sticking to the playlist. 

Here are my five picks for this week, in no particular order:

Gimlets, gin gimlets- So what that I still have a hangover 2 1/2 days later (the shame. I am way too grownup to feel this way)- gin gimlets are truly fantastic- don't ignore a well bred gin gimlet, friends.They're an excellent and refreshing little number.  I love that litlte pop at the back of the throat from them. Fantastic. Genius gin gims at Little Branch on 7th and Leroy if you are local by the way, and they get extra points for playing Toots and the Maytals most of the evening. 

Chantecaille foundation- Ok my ladies- I've become a woman who likes a bit of foundation- especially in these blotchy months of (fake) winter. I have tried them all and I'll tell you what- Chantecaille is the absolute top of the line, and believe me, it's priced as such. It's about $65 but lasts a while and melts onto your face in the most glowy and perfect of ways. My mom thought I got botox due to my even flesh and radiant visage. Also, anything that brand makes is top shelf- I adore their blush, which works that perfect I've just been kissed kind of flush, and their eyeshadows are sexy but super natural somehow, as are their little pops of color for the lips. Amazing stuff- also their stress cream is a little slice of skincare heaven for skin that gets as irritated as I do...

Henri Bendel- So I had a few moments to kill last night before the concert, and popped right on into Henri Bendel...let me tell you something- a classic is a classic and this place is a classsssicccc. The place is like a Wonka Factory for chicks- full of pretty makeup, amazing jewels and bags and such, and my favorite thing ever- an entire part of the second floor devoted to nothing but hair accessories- if you have a vagina, you need to go to there. It's not to be believed if you like to fuss around with things like that- and if you don't have a vagina, you can go there to buy a stellar gift for someone who does. I'm talking turbans, jeweled clips, spiked headbands and an assortment of hair doo dads that will flip your wig. I enjoy being a girl. And Henri Bendel knows it.

Good morning, Thursday. Crapiola day in the city- happy to be nesting inside avec puppy and very much looking forward to seeing Antony and the Johnsons tonight at Radio City with my dear friend, Eric. 

Now listen up because I have something to say to you, especially if the "you" who is reading this is a twentysomething something. You know I love all of you very much- I admire your optimism, your value set, your ability to have enough self belief and love to think everything will somehow work out and you will live the life of your dreams. But G-d damn, you really suck at customer service. Like, super suck.

Maybe it's that I'm slowly reaching the Paleozic portion of my life, but I have noticed a lot of bad behavior in the retail and restaurant world these days. Coming from Miami, I am somehow accustomed to bad service (it's the worst there by far), but here in New York, I expect more from all of you that work in shops or serve me coffee. You have no idea how many times in the past month I have been frantic for some help in a shop- whether my arms are full of frocks or I am searching for the perfect dog bag for Khan, the blank stares and dismissal of my being rocks me to the core. I'm wondering if it's all a product of this digital age- that everybody is forgetting about the human portion of connection- that real face to face thing that makes customers come back for more.

I'm somehow shocked by the number of cute young things in stores these days that absolutely suck at working there. I know there is not much glamour in retail or restaurant work, and believe me, I've done both. But nobody is holding a gun here, so why not just be nice and helpful and do your job? Is that too much to ask? You all are smart enough and driven enough, so stop killing retail with your smugness.

I'm worried about the future generations to come- who will surely grow up texting and social networking and not doing a lot of talking in person. With many saying retail is over (though it's actually enjoying a real renaissance these days as many of us crave something real) with the advent of so much shopping online, bricks and mortar better rethink their training programs for the hordes of young workers entering the force. It's a pandemic of nonchalance out there these days, and I for one am sick of it. I for one will walk out of a shop emptyhanded or latteless if I find the staff to be rude. I feel like it's up to this generation to prove us all wrong- everybody talks smack about your entitlement, and I for one am holding out hope that you will turn this bad behavior around. Just help me find the right dog bag, serve me a coffee and ask me how the fuck I am, or offer to put my Parker dresses in a dressing room while you see me wrestling with my purse and computer bag, would ya? 

That's how I feel and I'm sticking to it. If you keep this up, stores are going to go out of business, because the customer service on Gilt and Amazon's My Habit are pretty freaking stellar. You've got some "work" to do, friends. Please do it well, and with kindness. Cause that's what's up this how can I help you kind of Thursday in the cloud filled borough of Brooklyn. Talk to someone today and be pleasant, in person, please. All the love. XO

Oh, hello Wednesday. I still have one eye shut right now because I am a bit overhung today...had a fun evening with friends- in what other city could you sip bespoke cocktails one hour and be playing table top shufleboard with a magician the next? G-d I love New York. But I hate alcohol. Blech.

So onward. With all of this warm weather, it's hard not to get stoked for Spring and the need for some fun pieces that you can't live without, and last Friday I posted about my craving for an army jacket that would not do battle with my budget. Needless to say, I found the perfect piece at the Gap- an awesome little fitted number with a great hood- in the photo the hood looks a bit femmed up, but it's not- it's a lovely sort of funnel detail that has me swooning- it's much cuter in person, and on.

I also found this amazing tote there for Spring that speaks to my need for a preppy bag all spring and summer long to tote summer reads, beach blankets, and anything else I may need on warm days. Though I am a perpetual fan of LL Bean bags for such needs, I do adore this Gap bag- it's chic, classic, and well priced. I must get one, and I'm taking off the shoulder strap to make it more streamlined.

But wait there's more over at the Gap.  This striped tee for instance- perfect with the above mentioned army jacket and very cute with white jeans or black cropped pants (you will never hear me reference capris, ps) or shorts. I would also love this tee with something dressed up on the bottom- thinking a satin pouf skirt to the knee, a classic pencil,  or a floor length, sheer  chiffonish number. Could be hot, non? I adore sailor inspired tees like this- can be worn to suit your individual style whether you are preppy, hippy, or anything in between. I'm feeling stripes at home these days too, but more of the Paul Smith colorful variety. I need a rug like that...

So if you're feeling the need for some spring  in your closet, get thee to the Gap. You already know I'm a superfan of the brand and happy to see they've got some fun basics for the warmer months. Love...just goes to show that fashion is accessible to all, and chic does not mean expensive these days- ps the countdown begins to Jason Wu madness at Target. Practice your best push and shove if you are going to try to secure some pieces in store or work on your clicking finger for that online get. Hope you are enjoying your day wherever you are- I myself am nursing my wicked alcohol related malady and taking today one step and ibuprofen at a time. Is it too early for pizza? Cause that's what's up this boy do I love a good basic but man do I hate a hangover kind of Thursdy in the 718. XO

Oh, Tuesday, you little strumpet,  you have me busy...because of that, I can only post this photo today...I'm on lockdownuntil tomorrow and taking a time out from this here blog a log...all the love and mwah mwah mwah from the isle of Manhattan, yo, cause that's what's up this perched on the edge of edginess kind of Tuesday in the best city in the world. More tomorrow on my life and whatever else there is to talk about...I'm sure I'll find something. XO

Good morning, Monday. It's gloomy outside but I'm digging it- I love the variation in weather and realize how much I need the seasons to make me feel complete.

And speaking of complete, our apartment is really, really almost there. Complete, I mean. We figured out how to maximize the space, have come to terms that we need to invest in a new sofa but willing to wait until we find the right one, and generally loving what we've done to our little spot of heaven right here in Brooklyn.

As we were taking Khan in the snowy yard last night for a bathroom break, we looked at each other and realized this is our first "real" home, in the grownup sort of way. We are deliberate with everything we put in here, and we're realizing we want quality pieces in here that will last us a lifetime. I think coming home to New York feels more for keeps than anything we've experienced in a long time- and even though we lived in a lovely building in Miami with a doorman, a view of the water, a gorgeous renovated kitchen and multiple bathrooms, we couldn't quite get the space right, because we knew we would not be there forever and couldn't quite be asked to make it a real home.

In New York, people move. A lot in fact. It's just the way it is when you live a life of subletting, on high alert for a better place, a cheaper rent, and more space or a better neighborhood. But as many of you know, there's nothing easy about the hunt for spaces in New York, but somehow I had good karma when it came to that- one of the few areas of my life where I think I have a real "luck" thing happening.

As someone who has perpetually rented (and of this, I'm glad believe me considering the black cloud hanging over home ownership these days), I've been everywhere and back. Last night I started thinking about all of the places I have called home over the years, and thought it may be fun to recap them here for you, so you can see what kind of gypsy you're dealing with when it comes to me and my ever changing moves- let's go in order from college, shall we?

Philadelphia

10th and Pine- my first apartment ever. With my amazing roommate Tifa. Who answered my ad at Temple U that stated I was looking for a roommate who loved the Grateful Dead and smoked cigarettes. Needless to say she did, and we had the greatest time being absolutely out of our minds together.  We lived in an attic spot full of Ikea furniture. Was a fun time. We also used to get free beer from the deli next door from the young punk rock kid with rotted teeth. Awesome. And then there was the coke addicted criminal defense attorney on the second floor, and the heavy metal dude called Chip who we used to drink with.  I recall dressing in disguise from time to time, as well as spraying Easy Cheese out the window at the Jefferson Med School frat house across the street. Ha. Crazy kids were we.

5th and Pine- My first apartment with a man. I was 19. Yes, 19. I fell in love with a bartender from San Mateo who was going to Penn. We lived in a gorgeous pad with a fireplace full of more Ikea furniture- I still say this was one of my nicest apartments I ever had in a beautiful historic townhouse- too bad the relationship was completely doomed due to the fact that he became a cheesy asshole and I left him for an even cheesier Frenchman. C'est la vie.

6th and Spruce- Lovely apartment with a pretty French door to a tar roof, where I spent a million summer days getting tan. Lived with the preppiest girl alive. Needless to say, we were not pals for life. Great apartment but anyone who came to visit perpetually got their car broken into in the alley behind it. No bueno.

5th and Spruce- Pit stop after breakout. Lived with a super annoying girl who was a brilliant writer. She lived upstairs, I lived downstairs. Cool apartment, but hated the roommate. Made sure to avoid her at all costs- twas the winter of my discontent before I moved to New York. No happy memories of this place, I'm afraid.

New York

72nd and 2nd- My first apartment in New York. Moved on my birthday into a one bedroom in which I slept in the living room, on a futon. I could not have been happier. My first introduction to my roommate, whom I didn't know before moving in, was her jumping into a limo, blonde hair flying with a very short skirt and heels, off to the Meadowlands because she was dating the drummer from Guns N Roses. I shit you not. Lived there for years until she kicked me out because , after a particularly volatile exchange, my beastie boy of a boyfriend called her a whore and a gold digger. Those were the days...I did meet a lifelong friend in that buidling though, my girl Tracey who I met and became a partner in crime of mine for many years...I  can't talk about most of that.

Bergen and Smith, Brooklyn- After I got kicked out, I broke up with the above dude and fell apart. I moved to Brooklyn in the late 90s, three blocks from where I live now. A gorgeous apartment where my bedroom overlooked a garden and courtyard. I painted my room Xanax blue, listening to Frank Sinatra on an endless loop, and made paper dolls out of supermodels I cut out from magazines. I was super depressed from the breakup, and Frank and Brooklyn got me through it. Enjoyed the car service on my street that always took me into the city in a shitty old stretch limo. It's no longer there, believe me, I looked. I payed $550 in rent so could afford to finance my depression. Insane.

70th and 1st- This was a seminal moment in my apartment renting career- MY VERY OWN APARTMENT SANS ROOMMATE. If i remember correctly, I was about 28. The Brooklyn roommate had her boyfriend move in (she was nuts too), and I took his apartment in the city. The place was above a diner, had an exposed brick wall, and a persistent smell of gas. The tub never drained correctly and my super was a drunk leprechaun. Coincidentally,  I dated one of those at that time- an Irish American Eddie Burns type who drank way too much and would get surly and call me "pretentious" and "fancy" when lit. I think he may have tried to pee on my floor once too. Word of advice: never date someone just because they love Keith Richards and the Stones as much as you do. That's a mistake. On the plus side, it's the first place I ever kissed David, so it's not all bad...and the diner below was divine. 

20th and 1st- Stuyvesant Town- My first apartment with David, who moved in with me three months into my lease. I was in Stuyvie Town when there was still a list, and I sublet the place from a friend's friend, and paid peanuts for a huge one bedroom. But there was no air conditioning. And David and I spent many summer evenings in the hotel three blocks away. We also felt we were living in a "sick' building without proper ventilation, and I remember being there during 9/11, where the man across the hall from us was a fireman, whose dusty shoes at the front of his door were a brutal reminder of those horrible days. We also ate a ton of pizza then for some reason, even though we both were emaciated at the time due to failed relationships and general malaise- eggplant, mushroom, and spinach from some place on First Ave if I recall. Almost on a nightly basis, where we would sit on this crappy sofa I had and watch TV, which was way too close to said couch to really be safe for the eyes. Worst part of this apartment was the complete inability to get a cab in the morning from here, unless you were willing to FIGHT. I am not proud of the millions of pushes and shoves and expletives I uttered getting people out of the way so I could jump in...

6th Avenue and Spring- Hands down the best neighborhood EVER. The chill side of Soho. Anything west of West Broadway is a little slice of heaven. My apartment was the tiniest ever and was a sublet from a girl at work who moved to Manhasset- we paid $680 a month and spent every penny we saved on rent- we did live in Soho, after all. I painted the bathroom pink, David had to crouch down in the shower, and we used to eat dinner and watch TV in bed because it was the biggest room in the place. I remember that the Halloween Parade would start outside our door, but we couldn't fit people with costumes in our apartment to watch it. Sad. 

Miami

Oh, boy....I knew that the shit was going DOWN as we drove away from the New York skyline. Miami...oh, Miami. I was not a fan as you know. These were some rough years, but I must admit, you can live very well there for very little.

Aviation Avenue, Coconut Grove- our first "house" and probably our last. Coming from New York, I am not sure we understood how in places other than Manhattan, you could actually afford to live in a renovated apartment with a doorman, so we instantly went for charm, on instinct. We lived in a Key West charmer with palm trees, dark wood floors, and a fireplace. Though ceaselessly charming, it quickly became known as the "Grey Gardens of Coconut Grove".  Our landlord lived behind us, was a stoner triathelete in his 60s who would knock on my door in a Speedo, and when my heel went through my bedroom floor and the attic sprung a leak onto all of clothes, his famous retort was "can you live with it?". Nope. We couldn't. And for those of you keeping score on the life and times of Sheri and David, this is where David infamously killled a possum. We had more bugs and mice and rats than a subway tunnel. I hated that place, and I just remembered that it too stank like gas...

Edgewater Drive, Miami- Oh my we loved this place- a high rise with a pool, a gym, and many doormen. It was a menschy apartment with marble floors and huge closets and rooms that were supersized. We had never lived anywhere where everything we owned had a place, and then some. We realilzed we like apartment living way more than house living, and this was our last pad in Miami- and a gorgeous one at that complete with view of the waterway as well as a birds eye view of the massive yacht across the way, which was featured in  the SNL short "I'm on a Boat".  Yup.

Cut to now- I'm not writing this chapter yet, because it's still evolving. We live on Pacific Street in Cobble HIll- a block from Trader Joe's, which was so not here when I lived here the first time. We live in a two story apartment with a yard, and look forward to never moving again. Until we do, that is...we are thrilled to be here,looking forward to having you all over for lazy, reggae tinged summer bbqs and happy walks around the 'hood. I just felt the need to share with you how I have lived many lives, in many places, and my recall for all of them is pretty uncanny. I am not sure if this post is a trainwreck, but I just wanted to share that even though I have lived so many places in terms of residences, I am HERE now. Fully, and that's that. I am not planning on leaving New York again, but as a free spirit, one never knows...I gave you the abridged version but needless to say, much more crazy shit happened in all of those places, but not sure how much time you have to hear it all- so that's what's up this banning cardboard boxes and packing paper for a longggg time kind of Monday in the best borough of Brooklyn. Sorry for the rambling, but this was a good exercise to show I am a) not senile for remembering all of these palces and b) a wandering Jew through and through. Come visit me- I'll be here, in space number 12 of my adult life..I have always felt the importance of home to ground me and please me- and very much looking forward to this place becoming the best one yet, slowly, surely, and completely our own.  XO

Good mornin', my Friday. It was a snow fake out last night (we were supposed to get a storm last night, or at least a dusting), but alas, no white stuff. This weekend could get us though, so let's wait and see. I'm ready for my first snow in years...somehow I missed it, but sure that feeling will shortly end...

So I'm going with this Five for Friday thing because I like to shout out five things that made me happy this week...maybe you'll latch on to them too and see how they make you feel.

So here goes- FIVE FOR FRIDAY STARTS NOW.

1. Yes, I finally saw it on a midweek movie date with myself. The opening credits of "Girl with a Dragon Tattoo"- yes the movie was all that, though some scenes were a bit too disturbing for my tastes- but those opening credits were such a beautiful, gooey black and white delight with an accompanying "Immigrant Song" Zep soundtrack courtesy of Karen O. vocals and Trent Reznor production goodness. The whole sequence reminded me a bit of the "Give it Away" video from the Chili Peppers, and was a sexy way to start a movie- love you, Mr.Fincher. Hats off.

2. Mario Badescu Vitamin C serum- ok, ladies. If you are lucky enough to live in the Northeast, you are well aware of the havoc all this canned radiator heat and cold air does to your visage. You MUST run to get this product, which will run you about $45, but worth every penny- you put it on every other night after you wash your face and before you moisturize, and you'll wake up aglow and not the least bit dry. A genius product, and not as strong as some other serums that irritate your skin.

http://shop.nordstrom.com/s/mario-badescu-vitamin-c-serum/3018639?cm_cat=data...:253610&cm_pla=skin/body_treatment:women:moisturizer&cm_ven=Froogle&mr:referralID=NA&mr:trackingCode=294AFD69-1968-DF11-9DA0-002219319097

3. The Free City army jacket- Lately I've been dying for an army jacket- it suits my mood to be less put together and more haphazardly chic. This one is way too expensive but I dig the look of it very much...if y'all find a better priced alternative, send it my way and I'll post it. But this one is too cute.

http://www.shopbop.com/sun-sparrow-life-nature-love/vp/v=1/845524441909546.ht...

4. The VW Superbowl teaser with the pups- Come on. You know you love it too. I'm wowed by very few ads these days and this one is pretty genius. I can't help but me a sucker for ads with animals- it's cheesy I know, but I can't help myself.

http://mashable.com/2012/01/19/volkswagens-super-bowl-tease/

5. Paris versus New York- J'adore! I love the prints, and cant' wait to get my mitts on this book out this month- to me, there is simply no contest, but the comparison is a worthy one and I love the cheeky take on the two cities, with adorable illustrations. I absolutely love Paris, and I beyond love New York, so I love the duality of loveliness of this urban yin and yang. Genius. And the prints start at  $24 for the small size, or $41 framed and make a lovely addition to your art deprived walls. I'm getting one or ten of them. Love the graphic, cheeky style- I'm a huge fan of illustration.

http://parisvsnyc.blogspot.com/

Think that's about it- I'm watching the "Today Show" and can't believe these poor girls in upstate New York who have those Tourettes like symptoms. Odd beyond belief. I hope you enjoyed this little round up- looking forward to a weekend with my hubs and dog and lots of love. I'm also starting my business plan on that new idea I've got- more to come on that front soonish...cause that's what's up this five filled Friday in Cobble Hill...happy weekend y'all. XO

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Good morning, Thursday...it's been a lazy week for me- finished up a huge project and now picking up the pieces, going to the gym, and hanging out with Khan, who seems to be enjoying my down time as much as I am. 

So two days ago it was one of my favorite people's birthdays- Muhammad Ali. Not only does he hai from my husband's hometown of Louisville, but Ali has always been someone who I have been in awe of - his ribald combination of brutality and grace and humor and showmanship has always knocked me out, and in the interest of full disclosure, I have always been a huge boxing fan. I remember doing a photoshoot at Gleason's here in Brooklyn and it pretty much shook me to my core- the history of that place, the blood, sweat, and tears, and the insane talent that came out of those iconic walls was no match for me. And as a younger woman, I took up boxing as a form of exercise, and it gave me a feeling of raw power that as a woman, I was not accustomed to. Plus, it made me start eating meat again and had me in the shape of my life- I highly recommend it as a workout if you are up for it. Just like Ali, it's the greatest. Screw Tai Bo or Zumba- go out there and kick some ass. 

As for my obsession with Ali, I can't think of anyone who represents what it means to be an athlete- his legendary bouts had the world on its feet, and his ability to turn these events into shows of swagger and a rhythmic cockiness were genius. I also have always admired his outspoken views on politics, his desire to embrace his religion, and his unwavering status as an all American badass. I salute you, Muhammad Ali. And though it breaks my heart that you are stricken with Parkinsons, I will always look to you as a symbol of what it means to be a fighter and a hero, and one of the coolest cats around. When people talk about an American brand of cool, Ali is top of mind when it comes to what that means. You may think this is all very strange coming from a girl who loves dresses and pistachio scented perfume, but there's two sides to every story, and there's surely more to me than a well cut dress and smelling nice. I also can very easily access the more masculine part of my personality, and I'm not afraid of it in any way. Besides all of that, Ali had immeasurable style, and made sweatpants look amazing. Case in point below.

And if you've never been delighted by Ali, you simply must read "The Tao of Muhammad Ali", one of my all time favorite biographies written by Davis Miller, a sports writer who had an ongoing relationship with Ali for years, and learned much from him. It's an incredible journey of a book that will have you riveted, and most likely in tears from the tenderness of it all. I remember reading it on a flight to LA and bawling my eyes out. Link to the book below...

So as I embrace my new world order of freelancing and Brooklyn living and cold temperatures, I'm going to take some cues from Ali, and try to be the greatest I can be, toot my own horn from time to time, and take any negative thoughts to the rope and exhaust them. I'm going for a knockout in 2012- and if you're ever feeling defeated or in need of a little inspiration, take some cues from "the greatest", and get inspired by his dedication and devotion and unwavering ability to grab our attention and win our hearts. Whenever I'm asked who I'd be awestruck to meet, Ali is high on that list. I can only hope to have half of his courage and amazing ability to compete- boxing may be a brutal sport but I have always found it incredibly poetic and real. Cause that's what's up this gloves are ON kind of Thursday in the borough of Brooklyn. Always be yourself and fight for what you believe in and never settle for less. Ali once said, “He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life.” I couldn't agree more. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. XO

Read this- it's a triumph:

 http://www.amazon.com/Tao-Muhammad-Ali-Davis-Miller/dp/0446519464

In honor of all of us who don't want censorship on our interwebs. Don't worry, I've left the light on for you, so please sign the petition Google is passing around to make sure we protect our rights...cause that's what's up this all black everything kind of Wednesday in the darkness. You gotta fight the powers that be. XO

http://www.webpronews.com/google-wants-you-to-petition-congress-over-sopa-pip...

Good morning, Tuesday...I just did a great yoga class, and though I'm not really a yoga girl, I like to do it once a week just to open up the limbs. The chick teaching was all Jivamuktied, and though sometimes I find their hippy dippiness a bit much, I do love that style of yoga- flowy and filled with music and fairly user friendly. I like it. And I'm glad I could do some backbends today- for some reason doiong full wheel (or laying on your back and putting your hands inverted by your head and lifting your whole body) is a big challenge for me- trusting that I'm not going to break my neck and such.

And on that note, I'm still learning to trust- this new life, the freelance thing, the adapting to all of this newness. Though I'm fairly sure I'm not going to break my neck, there are moments of uncertainty as I take each new step, but I have faith it's all going to be great. I thank heaven that I'm a girl who is fueled by inspiration- and I just rediscovered this amazing fashion illustration by Antonio Lopez, my all time favorite fashion illo guy of all time. Back about a million years ago, I wanted to be a fashion illustrator, and went to art school during high school for many years- almost every summer of my life. I stopped illustrating because I doubted that I was any good, and many times I wondered where I would be now if I didn't stop doing that. You simply can't let doubt stop you...keep pushing through it and get to the next place.

But I'm not going to make that mistake this time- I'm going to focus on my writing, as well as a new idea I have for a more entrepreneurial endeavor, which I'll keep you posted on. I'm not going to let the fear of stretching my limbs and maybe getting into a position I can't get out of get in my way- I'm going to breathe through all of this newness and cold weather and working from home and do my thing...going to keep going and going and that's that.

Hope you have a lovely image or person or book or phyiscal activity that allows you to move forward, while looking back to why you are doing this or that in the first place. That's all I got for you today, everyone...all the love and love some more, cause that's what's up this here I am kind of Tuesday in the 718. I think I need a green ensemble like the one in this illo- green is the color of fertility, lushness, and prosperity, after all. XO