A more capacious apartment

After two years on the waiting list, I am now the proud renter of a storage unit in the basement of my building (for $150 a year; shockingly cheap for NYC real estate). So I am spending a good part of the weekend staying in and moving all the boxes I haven't touched in two years in there. I also plan to go through files, store some and eke out more SPACE in my already relatively-roomy one bedroom. I like to think of it as freeing up space for someone to come into my life--rather than filling it, I am going to let it lie and see what ends up on the now-empty shelves. I'm getting New Age in my old age. I'm hoping that I can eventually coax someone who has better spatial relations skills than I to come and help me maximize the space; I'm hoping to fit my bike in there. But for now, feels good to have given a bunch of old stuff the old heave-ho.
Buona sera--
Paola
P.S. Those photos, above, are to document the extra space in my filing cabinet, walk-in closet and coat closet. Nice feeling.

Spending spree, part 2

So, I'm still in reward myself mode. I hope this phase peters out soon, or it could be hazardous to my financial health. Latest treats to me: 12 personal training sessions for $850. If it's something I need to do to look good for my upcoming public speaking, can I tax deduct part of it? Seriously, any accountant types out there, please weigh in.
A new jacket with a hood made of an unidentifiable type of fur--incredibly warm and slim fitting and as sexy as a ski jacket can be.
Two pairs of black pants/jeans that fit like a glove.
So all things that are useful and that have staying power--it has been five years since I last bought a jacket, and 10 years since I've bought a coat. My cashmere coat was a giant splurge--$1000 at Filenes 10 years ago, but now I've had it for 10 years and it's going on strong as a reliable classic with style. My point: It pays to splurge on the stuff that you need and wear often and that is most visible--coats, shoes, bags. (Sorry--the woman's magazine editor part of me is getting a little carried away there!)
A spa day: $130 for a massage and $70 for two day passes to the gym at Reebok Sports Club L.A., an ultra luxurious health club that is almost worth the money--it feels as if you are going to a resort populated with beautiful yet kind people when you go to the gym.
A spa vacation for 4 days with an old friend.
$1000 toward my new ring.
Plus, various and sundry celebrations at nice restaurants. It has been quite fun but my bank account seems to be handling it. It's nice having 3 jobs--there's always a little extra money in the bank!

Buona notte amici--
Paola

My pal Al

That's my dad's name, too. I'm showing him (Al, not my dad) how to blog.
Who knew a techno-phobe like me could actually instruct someone in something computer related?
Ciao--
Paola

The Ring

This is where my limitations as a photographer become apparent: when trying to photograph a small object, indoors, without a flash. But, by popular demand, here is a photograph of the ring--or rather, the BLING--with which I rewarded myself for finishing my book. The diamond was in my grandma's engagement ring--I used that, chose two sapphires from Ceylon (hopefully they don't torture miners there the way they do in Africa), and designed it, from the band to the bevels. It's now the most expensive thing I own, other than my apartment, which I don't really own--the bank does.
I'm enjoying it. It feels warm and heavy on my finger. It's a nice reminder of my grandmother and of the great sense of achievement and happiness I feel about finishing this stage of the project.

Ciao, amici i buon anno!
Paola

Utter and complete slothfulness

Just got back from three days lounging and reading and bonding with my nephews upstate--when I get there, something overtakes me and I just want to lie on the couch with a blanket over me and read and nap. I also took some very long walks. It was SUCH the book recovery plan that I needed. Also spent a day and night with my cousins Terri, her husband Marty and their two kids, Glenn and Charlotte. Was great to connect with relatives I really like and don't see enough! We all used to spend time together regularly at my grandparent's house in Chelsea, Massachusetts, hiding in closets and sneaking up to the attic and jumping on beds until we finally, inevitably broke one. My cousin Howie and I, used to hide in closets and pretend we were vampires and scare my younger sister. I was not always the nicest older sister in the world, I admit.
Ciao amici, and have good holidays and Christmas cheer if that's what you happen to be celebrating.
Paola

The next best thing to a working fireplace

This is my week to enjoy heirlooms. This candelabra belonged to my father's parents, and for a while, it was sitting in a box on my book shelf, caked in black tarnish. So I sucked it up and brought it to a jeweler and had it professionally polished ($65!) and now I can enjoy it. It lends a little class to my humble pad.
I also picked up the ring I designed using the same grandmother's engagement ring. It is some SERIOUS bling and I have to get used to it on my finger. Sparkly. Shiny. BIG. (The diamond that is.) It feels a bit unseemly. But I think I'll get used to it (I hope).

Had a lovely, celebratory day yesterday, part of my two week post-book celebration. Went to Sports Club L.A. with my friend Millicent and we spent a good part of the day there, getting massages, sitting in the jacuzzi and working out. It was quite lovely and luxurious. Today, more lounging, some exercise, a bit of socializing, holiday card writing (which I never do, but I'm determined to get cards off to all of my writers--it's a professional duty!) and other assorted responsibilities with a dose of debauchery mixed in.

Ciao amici!
Paola

A new low

SELF had it's annual holiday party the other night, at the bowling lanes at Chelsea Piers. Lots of flashing videos, computerized scoring, dance music and an open bar. Perhaps that's why I bowled one of my lowest scores ever: a 49! How embarrassing!

A poet is born

My nephew, Jordan, (on the left) wrote this beautiful poem for an assignment at school on identity. All I can say is, it gave me chills. Then again, I'm the ultra prejudiced aunt.

I Am From the Stars
I am from staying up late and watching the stars dancing in my eyes. I am from the trout at the end of the fishing line. I am from the arrows thumping into the target.

I am from stepping outside and being in my own playground. I am from sitting in a hammock and going to sleep. I am from the rain coming down and stinging the grass. I am from my grandpa telling me that with 5 cents you could buy 2 comic books, one shake and two gum balls.

I am from those good fast food restaurants. I am from hearing the construction on the 20-story buildings. I am from hearing the subway cars go by.

Pragmatic sensualism--it's a philosophy!

I hate winter but I love that in New York City, the tulips start appearing (in vats outside Korean deli's, that is) this time of year. I love the colors and how the shape of the arrangement morphs as the stems get longer, like an evolving sculpture. And the cheap side of me loves that they last almost a week if you cut them and change the water every day or two (kind of like taking care of a cat, I'd imagine).

This is holiday party season. I always feel as if I should take advantage of the opportunities to go to parties and mingle, but somehow it feels like an obligation instead of something fun. I'd rather go to parties that just crop up at unexpected times of the year, like my "beat the february blahs" party a few years ago. Not to pat myself on my own back, or anything.

Got a new watch today--a great deal on the web--a new, $300 Swiss Army watch on Amazon for $125 with free shipping. A bargain! Now, I can buy a serious watch (Omega? Cartier? Tag Hauer, which I am oddly attracted to.) I seem to be drawn toward both Italian and German design; both are streamlined with high quality materials, but German design is utilitarian taken to a high art while Italian is sensuality taken to a high art. Kind of sums up the dual parts of my personality--the pragmatic sensualist. That's what I am.

Ciao i baci amici--

Paola

A life of leisure, langor and lust

(Only kidding about the lust part, mom and dad.) So, I handed the book in a week and a day ago and I haven't experienced a giant, post-baby let-down. I still feel incrediby happy simply having done it, though the part I dread is coming up: the marketing part. I fear it for some reason. So, I'm giving myself a few weeks not to think about anything serious like that and am taking the opportunity to hang out with friends (that's the Off-Road Girls, above, simultaneously celebrating books and birthdays at my pad this past weekend.)

I'm still on a me-me-me buying spree; waiting to get a ring that I designed back from the jewelers, using a diamond from my grandmother's engagement ring. It seems an apt thing to do in celebration of the birth of my book (or the handing-in part, anyway). How long is it socially acceptable to celebrate?

Ciao amici!

Paola

Just hit SEND

I sent the book in this afternoon at approximate 2:30 p.m. Wow. I can't believe it. I'm so happy with it. I think it tells some amazing stories. Stats: 110,000 words, 359 pages, 29 contributors (not including me, in the intro!). I feel great. I wish I could go to a spa for the day tomorrow, but it's work, work, work! I want to play, play, play!

What comes next now that this phase is over? I just have to open myself up to the fates.

Ciao amici--

Paola