Blogging mood...

I haven't been in much of one, in case you've noticed. I've been deep in the book revision process, all the politics and personalities, the negotatiating and cajoling--28 or so different essays about sex with all the twists and turns and unexpected vulnerabilities that entails.

This is the part of the book that feels like work--not quite like work-work, but not the absolute pure pleasure that defined most of the process. That's all I'll say at the moment, because I'm going to try and move forward and savor some of this, too. It's new, it's challenging, and kind of exciting, in that it's provoking high emotion. (I think that's good, anyway).

Tomorrow, off to West Palm Beach to spend time with my snowbird parents. Hoping for beach time, exercise time, sleeping time and some working time--I wouldn't say those are unrealistically high expecations, would you?

Ciao--No internet access in Florida, so I will be radio silent (virtually silent) for the next couple of days. Miss me?

Paola

Serious work ahead

So, the next month is going to be devoted to revising (or asking writers to revise) various essays. Not the most fun process--as an editor, I'm not used to (nor do I love) being edited. But I'm plunging in with hope and faith that this will only make the book sharper. To make the process less onerous, and to create an environment that feels like a "work at home" environment, I spiffed up my desk/home office area. I've decluttered, added some greenery and flowers, cute little containers and all kinds of things that help disguise the fact that there is no light in here (including environmentally incorrect full spectrum bulbs. So, I worked on the book for several hours today and plan to put in about four more tomorrow--it now feels as if I have a home office that I'm happy to be sitting in and that's motivating.

Ciao, belli!
Paola

Healing up

I've had a bump on the road to my continued bout of happiness--I fell down literally and figuratively. But I'm realizing that it's okay to go down for a bit so as to savor the ups. Life isn't all ups.
I worked out with my trainer today. He's a sweetie--I feel as if he's my teenaged son--I've been scolding him about doing indoor tanning (he has light blue eyes and pale skin).
I'm so happy to have a three-day-weekend. Soon I will begin planning my trip to Cuglieri, in Sardinia. I'm excited about it--it seems as if it's an off-the-beaten path place that is beautiful and has some history--castles and beaches and places to hike. Not a bad choice for two weeks in the spring!

Ciao belli--Gotta start studying italiano again.
Paola

the human body is an amazing thing

It's only been 48 hours ago and my wounds are healing nicely. Now it just looks like I have a giant cold sore over my lip, instead of a big scab. But my lip is almost back to normal size and I'm feeling less shell-shocked after my fall. The big relief, though, was getting my taxes done--I've been stressing about it because of the book, but it didn't turn out to be that hard getting everything together--except I had to bring everything to the office to force myself to put it all together. There's something about sitting in my comfy, cozy, colorful apartment that just made me want to put off doing my taxes, and put it off, and put it off.

Above, photos of Bettina and Martin's cute kids, Lily and Asher. (Asher is wearing a knight costume--just cuz he wanted to.) He was very cute: He said, "Mommy, I'm going to go upstairs and come back down a different person!" Ah, to be 5 again.

Ciao--
Paola

Flat on my face

I had a lovely weekend in Houston, until this morning, after a run around Rice University in 75 degree weather, I tripped over an uneven sidewalk and went down, smacking my face on the pavement. Luckily, I didn't break my nose or any teeth, but I do look a bit like someone smacked me in the face with a frying pan: My lip is swollen and cut, I have a big round cut between my nose and my mouth, I have cuts on my nose and some on my hands. Basically, I look a bit like a freak show (or a victim of domestic abuse). Somehow, I don't think I'll be going on any dates this week. I wish I could stay home from work, too. YUCK.
Now I'm at the airport, in Houston, waiting for my flight, which was delayed due to bad weather in NYC. Luckily, I can get online and am getting some good work done on book revisions, so that's a good thing.

So, the good stuff about Houston--my friends Bettina and Martin have a lovely, light-filled house on a tree-lined block; not only did I have my own room, I had my own section of the house, complete with bathroom and kitchen. It was great hanging out with them--we had terrific Mexican, innovative Indian, I got to spend lots of nice time with her adorable kids, and Bettina and I got lots of good conversation in, not to mention two 3 mile run/walks. Plus, I saw the DeMenile collection, which was amazing, especially the surrealist galleries. And the balmy weather didn't hurt things, either. Now, if I could just walk around with a paper bag over my head until I get all healed up. I feel very self conscious.

Ciao--
Paola

How come no one ever comments on my blog?

According to Google Analytics, a whopping 11-25 of you visit this blog every single day. I want to hear your voices people!
Ciao--
Paola
P.S. Another good haircut shot. Don't I look like some kind of British mod/rocker chick?

The best hair cut ever?

I would have to say so. Then again, I've suffered through some doozies, starting with my mother crookedly cutting my sister's and my bangs, then followed in short order by the pixie, the shag (both of those unfortunate stages resulted in my looking like a boy until I was 9, the Dorothy Hamill (or wedge, as it was also called), a bad perm so that I had tight little curls all over my head like Orphan Annie, then 12 years of a chic, extremely short cut, which was nice. But eventually, a girl likes to feel like she has hair again. And I do now. All part of the sexpert transformation in the making.
Ciao--
Paola

Subway serendipity

A colleague at work installed a google analytics thingie that lets me monitor traffic to this blog--about 10 to 20 of you are reading it a day--around 300 a month. Kind of mind boggling. So...COMMENT DAMMIT! I want to know who is out there, people! (I'm asking this in the nicest possible way.) Does anyone have any great suggestions for publicizing my book? I'm afraid of this whole part of the book process, for some reason. But I'm starting to realize that maybe it's simply that I am afraid to jump in and enjoy it--that I don't think I deserve any positive publicity. And I'm realizing that I don't feel that way--that I think women will think this book is fun and (hopefully) speaks to them, and reassures them and surprises them. That would be nice, and it's possible it will happen!

Life is good.
Ciao--
Paola
P.S.
Talk about a serendipitous New York City moment: Yesterday, coming home from work on the 2/3 train from Times Square to 96th St., the train stops dead at 72nd St. It's an unpleasant, crowded ride (I had a bit of a run-in with a guy who was blocking the entrance), then, suddenly, I heard two little boys talking, and I thought, "those boys sound the same age as Jordan and Caleb." Then I dismissed the thought, then happened to turn around and found myself face-to-face with Caleb. He was like: PAULA! And I said, at the same time, CALEB! Then I spotted Jordan and Denise, their long-time baby sitter. Then the electrical grid went dead and we were all stuck in the train together for a half hour and we had a really nice, pleasant visit--it was the nicest subway delay I've ever had.