Baby love...

It's Pam's son--baby Alec, looking all alert and wide-eyed and newly cognizant of the fact that he is in a WORLD filled with all kinds of cool looking THINGS. It's so fun to be around babies who are discovering that basic but always awe inspiring fact.

So, I've figured out (with the help of a work colleague) how to track traffic to this blog--seems like I'm getting around 45 unique views a day, with 75 % coming from referring sites and 25% going directly to the site. Average time spent: A minute and a half. Who are those other people?

Speaking of stats, tomorrow is my first official training session with my trainer, Paul. I'm meeting him at 1 or 1:30 tomorrow (I can't remember exactly when), so I'm going to do cardio before, then we'll do weights for an hour. He kicked my butt (or rather, my upper body,) yesterday; I really feel my triceps, the sides of my torso and my abs. My arms look more toned already!

Ciao--buona sera.

Paola

secrets of happiness editors

At work, we were asked to share a few of these. Here are some of mine.

Ever since I've been back from Italy (which is where I formed the habit), I've been buying lots of beautiful fruit--blood oranges, heirloom tomatoes, clementines and bananas (which I've always loved; they're the fruit most like ice cream, if that makes any sense. I eat them in the morning sliced on toasted cinamon bread with honey and chunky peanut butter (another happiness secret--give yourself something sweet, yet healthy and satisfying in the morning. No deprivation allowed.



Anyway, I arrange all this bounty in a beautiful bowl I got in Spain so I can see it and it also adds color and life to my apartment. I eat much more fruit this way, and it feels much more like a sensual pleasure as opposed to something I'm doing simply to be "healthy." And I don't beat myself up if I sometimes don't finish them all--guilt should have no place in the process of nourishing ourselves.

Ciao amici --
paola
above is the latest grandma via mother acquistion: It's a rose gold watch with diamonds and rubies; very delicate, very different. And they actually got it working. I love it.

The body of a sexpert

Tomorrow I start working with my new, very own personal trainer, a 21-year-old (if he is a day) classically trained cellist from Alabama--very unintimidating (which has its good and bad sides) but in general seems like he will be nice to work with. I bought 12 sessions for $800 but you get two free sessions and I figure hey, maybe it will help me take it more seriously. He did the Equifit workover on me and, as always, the stats it yielded were sobering. Heart rate, blood pressure were all fine, which is good, but my body-fat percentage? YIKES. Suffice it to say that I have to lose 6 percent of my body fat, which seems a doable if challenging goal in a year. Or, to put it another way, I want to lose 25 pounds. That way, besides being healthier, I'll be able to stand in front of clamoring crowds at bookstores and wear something cute and radiate sex appeal yet intelligence and mensch-ness (is there a word for a female mensch?) without feeling embarrassed or extremely self conscious. So, I'm going to blog about my efforts. Here, a few more stats:

As of January 09, 2006:
Weight: 153
Height: 5'3"
pushups (man style): 15
flexibility: average
body fat: 32%
CO2 capacity: low
resting heart rate: 62
b. pressure: 110/80

THIS, after working out fairly consistently for years. I need to start doing interval training and pushing myself harder if I want to see results--improvement requires at least a teeny bit of pain at the gym, and I've been feeling no pain--all the pain has been in getting myself there, but once I'm there, I work up the same light sweat for 30 minutes on the elliptical trainer, do the same 30-40 sit ups, the same 8-20 pushups, the same stretches. I'm sure it's better than nothing, but I'm not exactly seeing sexpert worthy RESULTS. So, here's hoping that committing some of my earnest efforts at self improvement to the blog-o-sphere will motivate me to work hard and follow through and get strong and healthy (and sexy wouldn't hurt either).
Ciao--
Paola

Unexpected gifts

My friend Millie came over last night and gave me the nicest holiday gifts--one of those mini-Japanese rock gardens, complete with shells she had collected from our trip to Bayhead on the Jersey shore this past summer. So now I have a little creative corner in my apartment where I can rake sand and arrange rocks and shells. It's fun.

Millicent is about to start a job at the prestigious, 160-year-old Economist as their senior user experience archictect, to revamp their web site and make it as spiffy as the publication itself. Impressive.

I'm off to the gym, in preparation for beginning a series of sessions with a personal trainer. My goal: to develop the body of a SEXPERT in preparation for my world-wide (or at least, bi-coastal!) book tour.

Ciao, amici--
Paola

Three crucial inches

One of the many perks of my job at SELF is I get easy, sometimes free access to the best and newest beauty products. Right now, in preparation for our annual Best Beauty issue, I'm testing shower gels and skin lotions; 4 of the first, 6 of the second. I am in love with this stuff called Ted Gibson (I think); the gel smells like grapefruit with a hint of sweetness and I've gone through 3/4 of the bottle in about 10 days. I could eat it up--when it's on me, I feel like dessert! It's been one of the highlights during this bout with a cold I'm enduring.

Speaking of highlights, during the holidays, mine was a 2-minute interaction with my friend MP Dunleavey's genius baby Connor (that's him around Thanksgiving): We were in his parents' bedroom, MP getting ready for New Year's, and Connor was playing in front of the mirror, running at himself. And I said, "Connor, come here and let me give you kisses!" and he ran half way toward me, then laughed, turned around, and turned back again. Then he did it again, running toward me a little closer, and turning back, then the third time he ran straight into my arms and we tumbled back over onto the bed, his wonderful baby-laughter pealing. I was being teased and flirted with by a 15-month old. It was TOO cute.

Another hightlight: Christmas night. My friend came over and offered to fix something with my refrigerator. So, singlehandedly, he pulled out the refrigerator (full of stuff), countertop and stove, then shoved them back in so tightly against the wall that for the first time in two years, I CAN OPEN MY REFRIGERATOR ALL THE WAY. So yes, ladies, sometimes two or three inches does indeed matter.
Ciao--
Paola
P.S. That's the lovely view of my new-and-improved kitchen. I think I'm going to get it painted turquoise and the cabinets some kind of bright. Would that be weird? If you're going to take a decorating risk, painting seems as if you'd have the least to lose.

A new year, a new cold

Yes, I have been trapped in my apartment for days on end...this is my fifth day ailing. Good thing I like my pad. I have managed to schlep myself off to work, but have cancelled all social plans for evenings sitting home in front of my lap top with dumpling soup from Ollie's and pea soup from Gourmet Garage. That, plus Sudafed, Robitussin and Tylenol and my body should soon start resembling a living chemistry set.

I was supposed to see the Pissarro exhibit at the Jewish museum today but I cancelled. Instead, I'll read essays for my writing workshop next week, maybe start organizing for my taxes, which is going to be complicated this year because of my book, (though that seems over ambitious), and, as always, do laundry, my favorite procrastination task. It enables me to inhales lots of Mrs. Meyers' geranium scented laundry detergent, my favorite. It's worth the $14--really!

I'm excited that one of the contributors to my anthology, Susanna Sonnenberg got a rave review for her new memoir, Her Last Death, in the New York Times. Good for her, good for me. It's an amazing, unflinching, beautifully written memoir. Read it and marvel at the craziness of mothers and the resilience of daughters.
Ciao--
Paola
P.S.
I'm trying to get the link thing straight. Then I can truly join the blog-o-sphere!

A snowy Catskills New Year

You know you have a solid friendship with someone when you can hang out with them in the midst of their move to a new house (with a 15-month old) and everyone still enjoys one another--I guess that's what was confirmed for me this past weekend (though I always knew it). I ushered in 08 with my dear friends Mary-Patricia/Mary Pat/MP/Mia, Matthew and their genius baby Connor in their beautiful new home in New Kingston, New York, in the heart of the Catskills. I'm talking bucolic here. We did some organizing, went to a lovely New Year's gathering at a friend of theirs, in an incredibly beautiful and stylish house filled with art and my favorite kinds of warm colors, I read an excellent book (The Post-Birthday World, by Lionel Shriver), shoveled some snow (which was actually fun, since the snow was light and powdery and otherwise made a good start to 2008. This past year was one of my happiest, best ever, so I'm hoping for more of the same (though the skeptic in me worries there is nowhere to go from here but down....).
I guess my big resolution is to transform myself, physically, into an Oprah-worthy sexpert, whatever that means. (For one thing, I'm hiring a trainer.) Not to worry--you will see my efforts and the fruits thereof in these pages in the months to come.
Buon anno amici!
Paola