These Boots are Made for Walkin’, or How I Plan to get my Own Category on NextDoor


I don’t know what’s happened to me. I’ve become a walker. It’s ridiculous how much I have taken to it. I walk now. That’s a thing I do regularly. I had walked 5.32 miles yesterday before it was even 11 am. Out loud, that doesn’t sound like I’m living up to my original, diva-esque, Mariah Carey year plans, but in looking back over that resolutions list, I’m not actually that far off. My vision of the year probably involved a lot more champagne and foot rubs, however, as I am sorely lacking in champagne and foot rubs. I also noticed from that old post, we were just about to Supermoon.  And here we are, capping off the whole month with another Supermoon. This one yesterday was all eclipsy. I did not turn into a werewolf, sadly. I did not Thriller dance in the streets. My eyes, they did not yellow.

So fun news! I have a new, additional walking buddy, because, let’s be honest, if I’m not able to gossip and laugh while I walk, then what’s the point. I’ll look like a random hoodlum and will wind up on NextDoor under a “Suspicious Character” titled email. I mean, I might be on NextDoor anyway but I don’t need to prompt them.

Or maybe I do. Maybe I plan an elaborate prank that will last weeks that will get all the neighbors riled up and cause them to go all Hardy Boys. I’m going to tell Nurse Friend about this new plan. She’ll be thrilled.

So new walking buddy that hasn’t replaced Nurse Friend will hereby be known as Book Friend. Book Friend and I like to walk on the other side of Encino. The super rich people side. The house James Dean lived in when he died side, the Liberace Piano Pool house side, The Jackson Family Compound side. Two of those are actually in Sherman Oaks, but not the Jackson house. That’s Encino and speaking of the Jackson house, Tito has not come out and greeted me with a warm cup of tea yet, but it might happen if I wish hard enough.


Liberace Piano Pool house

Yesterday Book Friend and I accidentally (on purpose) walked onto a live car commercial shoot. They yelled “HOT SET!” at us which I think meant, “shut up about your bad life choices and get out of the shot, pajama girl”. That was not exactly how I’d dreamed of being discovered, but we can’t all be Marilyn.

The rich people side is super nice though and we even saw one of those Little Free Library things that look like a bird mansion with books that people set up around the city. The one we came across had nice books in it like Hamlet and Jane Eyre. I’ve wanted to set one of these Little Free Libraries up around my side of the tracks but $10 says that someone would throw a Playboy and a used condom in it and then hit it with a baseball bat.

Look, my side of the Boulevard isn’t so bad. It’s real nice, actually. They have chairs out for you when you need a rest. Give me a glass of champagne and a foot rub, and it’s like, Tito and his tea, who?

That emerald toned, Lazy Boy is as, if not more lavish than any piano pool, don’t let the lure of Hollywood sway your perception.

The next time Book Friend and I walk, I’m going to pick up one of those Maps of the Stars so I can gawk and awe. Do they have a Valley edition? If they don’t, TMZ Tours better look out. They’ll have some Valley competition soon.

I’m going to get kicked out of Encino, aren’t I?

New Year, New Me (but likely the same me but hopefully I’m a little less lazy about it)


I spent New Year’s Eve laughing and drinking with neighbors and my husband and kids. The kids weren’t drinking, obviously, but I did my part anyway and drank what they couldn’t. We had fun and drank too much and sang Beatles’ songs at the top of our lungs really late into the night. It was the perfect catapult into what I think is going to be a fun year. And then I was awoken from a peaceful dream about swimming in the clearest, bluest, warmest, sharkless ocean by a champagne headache and a cat with a death wish.

I have made grand plans to have a “Me” year, though. Around this time 2 years ago, I vowed to have a Mariah Carey year full of me being my diva self and not caring who knew. Well I had that year and it was exactly like I’d imagined but without the money or the shoes or the personal assistants or the Yes Men. No one cleaned for me. No one made sure my mimosas were filled.

What’s a girl have to do to be seen as a diva and not “Amy, put on pants”?

I’m still on the ultimate quest of living my “Mariah Carey Year” which may or may not have already panned out depending on how liberal we are with the rules. For example, sitting around drinking wine without pants on and talking about myself while everyone else around me does everything I didn’t get around to doing, we’ve probably had similar years, hers is probably a lot more gold plated and sparkly and she has someone to do her hair and stuff. I just look like an episode of Roseanne. (Speaking of Roseanne, did I really see that that show is coming back??? Please tell me it wasn’t a champagne fueled hallucination and it’s really really really happening.)

I am going to have my year this year. I’m doing it.  I say this every year and as a matter of fact, my 2018 so far has been me sitting on the couch juggling mimosas, napping, eating pizza and Doritos, and scrolling the internet all day so, exactly where I left 2017 off. Although, I have showered, gone outside, and am blogging, which, if you’ll notice on the forthcoming list, I’m not doing too shabby.

My RESOLUTIONS are as follows.

  • Try to go outside everyday
  • Exercise for 30 minutes everyday
  • Read for 30 minutes everyday
  • Shower. Everyday.
  • um, Eat an apple or something that grew out of the ground?
  • Blog. Everyday.

Once again, this list looks like a cry for help. But I do intend to blog everyday which is fitting as I leave town for several days soon and the idea of bringing my laptop will probably be met with eyerolls and “Come on, like you’re really going to write everyday. You’re not even going to open that thing once. Leave it here,” which sounds like I’m vacationing with my parent but no, just the husband. But I will be sitting in front of a cozy fire, probably super inspired by my new Oregon surroundings, it’ll be like Funny Farm only hopefully I won’t throw the whole thing into the fire when super husband, Ward Cleaver over here writes a best selling kids’ book about squirrels.

Ooh! Very important side-note: I just remembered that I had a baked potato for dinner so add that to the list of accomplishments because it grew from the ground. It counts. See? I’m doing even better than you thought I was.

There I go, fulfilling resolution list things right and left. Tonight’s supermoon is making me a super human. Or a werewolf. We’ll see what happens when I go outside. If you see me running around Encino naked and howling, you’ll know where we’re at but you have to let me go for at least a half an hour so I’ll be able to add another checkmark to my resolution list.