gratitude-a-thon day377: another sunny day

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It’s positively alien to wake up everyday and know it will be great weather. That’s the way it is here in Miami. Of course I’ve been on dozens of warm weather vacations to Islands that are like this in the past, but this is different because my sister Joni is actually living here, so it’s real. What a concept, not having to consider a pagan ritual for a sunny day, not praying to the Gods for some warmth, not turning on all the lights in your house and blasting the heat to pretend it’s summer (stop judging). You just get out of bed, look outside, and there it is, sun, warmth, happiness.

We New Englanders are in a perpetual conversion about the weather. What it’s doing, what it’s going to do, what it just did. But here, nobody even mentions it. It’s a given that the weather will be nice. Wow. What a fucking concept.

gratitude-a-thon day 375: one of those meals

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Mandolin, nestled in Miami’s art district is an outdoor cafe serving Greek and Turkish food that is fresh, gorgeous and totally delish.

A perfectly perfect dinner. A beautifully beautiful restaurant. A simple breeze, no humidity and no coat. Take that you miserable Boston winter. You’re barely a memory.

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There are little moments of beauty all over. These orchids growing in this tree was one of them.

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Right? Right?

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Not only is the food really excellent, the service is personal and a total 10. The waitress stopped everything to give us the Tzatziki recipe, which was as creamy as a cloud.

gratitude-a-thon day 374: a perfectly curated LSD trip

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The entrance has an oversized lampshade over a super ginormous comfy couch.

You know how Eloise lived in The Plaza, well I found the hotel I want to live in. It’s called The Delano and it’s in South Beach. And I want to move in today. I wouldn’t need furniture or anything. Just my clothes. It’s shabby chic meets Alice in Wonderland for some white hot perfection.

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Each nook and cranny of this long entrance hallway has offbeat furniture, like a lucite piano, and chairs with faces on them. It’s like an awesomely curated LSD trip.

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This table for two is at the end of the pool, in the pool. C’mon, this is freaking amazing.

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The pool is flanked by little cabanas, all white with striped pillows.

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I hate sushi, but damn this bar made me want to love it.

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The rooms are all white. Here it is folks: HEAVEN.

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A pose before dinner. And a plea to move in.

 

gratitude-a-thon day 373: Why this year’s Boston Marathon kicked some serious ass

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I’m a day late, but the absolute awesomosity of the Boston Marathon hasn’t left me yet (and yesterday I couldn’t write because I left for Miami at 6:00 a.m.), so here are five things that made this year’s Boston Marathon one of the best days of the year (or any year).

1. There were 36,000 runners (my friend Dan being one of them, who cruised to the end like he was taking a run in the park on a Saturday morning), more than a million spectators, and if you were part of either group (or just watching on tv) you could see that there is so much more good than there is bad in the world.

2. The weather Gods convened and said, “Yes, this day’s weather will be beautiful whether you are fleet of foot, or sitting on your gluteus maximus drinking a cold one.”

3. I saw runners with cameras on their hats, three sets of bunny ears, six tutus, one pink mohawk wig, a man with two blade legs, a man with no hands, a kid on crutches, numerous flag holders from numerous countries, hundreds of “Boston Strong” shirts, and hundreds more with the names of those lost in last year’s bombings emblazoned on their shirts, a blind runner, a disabled runner running with a guide, thousands of charity entrants, moms and daughters, fathers and sons, friends and for the last time Dick and Rick Hoyt. And every one of these people, I realized, had a story. It was emotional.

4. Spectators were excited and supportive and downright nice to each other. There was no jockeying for positions or snarky “get outta my way” looks on the sidelines. We were partners in bringing back the finish line.

5. There was one arrest for disorderly conduct. This thing went off without a hitch. It was everything that last year’s marathon wasn’t. It was resilience, athletic beauty (Rita Jeptoo beat the course record and Meb Keflezighi from San Diego placed first), grit, joy, and a polite fuck you to the ugliness that ground this city to a halt on April 15, 2013. We’re back. From heartbreak hill to Copley Square. This city is back up and running.

gratitude-a-thon day 358: Run, Dan, Run!

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Here’s my friend Dan. He’ll be running for the first time. If you see him, give him an extra clap!

Today is for candy and ham and friends (happy Easter), but tomorrow is the Boston marathon for those of you who don’t know (and you must live in an ancient civilization if you don’t know, because this thing has been on every newsstand, news show and news app there is).  Shouting it out to my friend Dan who is running for the first time. He’s raising money for our town’s teen center. I’m sort of crazy thrilled, for him. I’ve always wanted to run Boston, been a little obsessed with Boston,  but my back, which started giving me trouble senior year of college, gave me a thumbs down, so it’s really fun to experience a friend do it. He has been having a ball with the whole thing. Last year he was signed up to run,  but then promptly broke his ankle. So, this year, he and his rehabbed ankle went out and trained and boom, tomorrow he will be killing heartbreak hill.  He even made it onto the cover of Sports Illustrated this week. GO, DAN!

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Dan is in the lower left corner. Pretty cool to make it to the cover of S.I.

And speaking of the marathon, Mark Fucarile, the bombing survivor who was the last to leave the hospital got married this week. At Fenway Park, no less. Way to go. Gratitude for so much happy.

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Homerun!

 

gratitude-a-thon day 357: sick as a dog

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Riley’s new weight loss diet: get a haircut. I swear he’s lost 10 pounds.

More evidence that having a dog is one of the secrets to getting your happy on. While i have been sick all week and had to miss the Billy Joel concert in NYC last night because after getting up and all ready yesterday morning, I almost fell asleep while getting a last minute manicure, which made me realize that I would not make it Madison Square Garden and that the piano man would have one less fan to sing to, I did get some very good news about my boy Riley, which I tried to focus on last night while I drown my sorrows in bed with the pappardelle from Pomodoro.

Advised to see a neurologist at Angell, to see if Riley had a neck issue, I struggled through, sick, while my husband was traveling, to the appointment that took three weeks to get, and kept me waiting for an hour. Anyway, the vet, who oddly never looked me in the eye, did not think Riley had any type of neck issue and that he very likely just had Lyme. We agreed to re-treat him for said Lyme because his protocol was for a larger dose of antibiotics than my vet’s. I agreed, because why not be 100% sure that miserable disease is gone. Anyway, if I felt better, this would have given me reason to throw a city wide parade. I’ve been so worried about my dog. And have had visions of him becoming paralyzed from a possible disc issue in his neck and surgery and well, we know I have a fertile imagination.

Anyway, as I lay miserable in bed last night, Riley was begging for food, and barking at his toy basket, just like the old days (he hadn’t done this in months). While i’m sick, HE’S BETTER. And that’s almost as good as me not being sick.

gratitude-a-thon day 356: childhood really DOES go by fast

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I remember people used to say to me when I had little kids, “Enjoy it, it goes fast.” I’m pretty sure that this little phrase was said  to me in the neighborhood of like 82,347 times. I didn’t like it. I practically rolled my eyes. And I didn’t really believe it, because that’s how I am when you wake me up every night for four years. Anyway, of course, when my kids finally did, as promised, quickly, become young adults, I began my own quest to let people know that they should grasp the experience, because what everybody says is true, it goes by in a blink. The mom’s always look at me bleary eyed and tired enough to fall asleep standing, and I can tell they don’t believe me any more than I believed the mom’s who tried to tell me. Just one of life’s little ironies. We humans don’t believe anything unless we go through it ourselves. It’s a damn shame.

Anyway, they (and me and everybody you know) say it goes fast, but here’s a little video of it actually doing just that. Proof! Nice work, dad.