The stories we tell ourselves
One leg or two?
One of the things I like best about being a reporter and content creator is that I get to be a mini expert on a variety of random subjects. God knows, I enjoy being a smarty pants. Back in the day, when I was a municipal reporter, I had to get a handle on school and town budgets (a challenge for this English major) and sitting through a million planning board meetings helped me understand the complexities involved in planning for and approving a car wash or restaurant.
Nowadays, I can speak quite expertly on topics as varied as mold and asbestos, cemetery headstones and sperm. For about 18 months, I was proud to be the voice of SpermCheck, a test kit similar to a home pregnancy test except it measured sperm and was geared towards those who wanted it (who were trying to get pregnant) and those who did not (after a vasectomy). It brought me great joy to be allowed to insert (hahaha) sexual innuendos freely into my copy and make jokes about keeping ones balls in the air. I was sorry to lose that job.
Recently, I've been working on an article about prosthetic technology and have sat through long interviews with experts in the field explaining bionic legs and arms and then figuring out how to boil it all down into 750 words. I'm also doing a profile of an amputee who's benefited a from state of the art prostheses and was put in touch with a guy around my age who lost a leg in a motorcycle accident. He was very open about the incident, which happened when his bike hit a wet bit of roadway and cause the bike to slide, and how his hi-tech leg has let him play in a wave pool with his kids and, yes, continue to ride the same motorcycle.
Later in the conversation, I asked if he was married and he told me he was divorced and then brought up that he had a girlfriend. Intrigued, I asked how long they'd been dating and realized they'd gotten together following his amputation.
After we hung up, I immediately texted my girlfriend the following:
Honestly, I've told this story now a bunch of times and it's made me laugh. It's just so ridiculous. But also: true.
I was up frantically trying to finish the main prosthetics story and when I hit send to share with the editor I'm working with, I felt such a sense of relief that it was gone. That's the bad part about being a writer. It's like most every day, I have a paper due (cue the "kinda stinks" video I shared a few weeks ago).
This weekend, I don't want to write any papers. Instead, I plan on bingeing Schitt's Creek hard and making some headway the book in "A Little Life," which I started last weekend. Also, anyone watching "Virgin River" on Netflix? Looks kinda great.
Stay sexy, you people, no matter how many legs you have.
Happy Friday and ONWARD!
xoAmy
Apparently if all the other dogs jumped off the bridge, my dog would just sit and watch.
This Friday's Faves
As reported last Friday, I was heading into NYC to hear a beloved teacher and mindfulness guru discuss "Radical Compassion," which also happens to be the name of her latest book. It was an inspiring two hours, which included a few opportunities to close our eyes for a guided meditation, with a powerful ending. She asked us to couple up and proceeded to have us turn to our partner (my friend and neighbor Susan) and stare into each other's eyes for five minutes and spoke about seeing past the masks we all wear to really see another person's humanity. Silly. Uncomfortable. Moving. Tears leaked out the corners of my eyes. Finally, she asked us to close our eyes and picture someone who can be challenging and then encouraged us to see past their masks. Wow. Later, I told my pals who I went with about a Modern Love essay a few years ago that went viral with its 36 questions to fall in love with anyone, and at the end of the exercise, staring into each other's eyes for three minutes. So everyone, Susan Murray and I might be in love. Not sure what her husband Joe thinks.
Speaking of Tara Brach, I also signed up for her 10-day Radical Compassion Challenge, which starts this Tuesday. Join me and let's flood the world with compassion and respect for each other!
I'm kinda obsessed with the Smitten Kitchen gal and all the amazing things she whips up in her tiny apartment kitchen. I've fallen down long and twisty recipe rabbit holes. I made this Sheet Pan Chicken Tikka this week and, man, it was amazing (I am also a sucker for sheet-pan-anything). Even the 17yo enjoyed it AND ate the leftovers last night. I randomly had all the spices on hand (who doesn't have garam masala and cumin seeds in their spice drawer?). Also, topped it with the super quick picked red onions, which you can find at the bottom of this (also very good) recipe.
A lot of people are digging my current fave reading glasses, which I get when I go visit my magical hair lady. I found them for you on Amazon so you can load up like me and have one in every room and bag you carry.
MANY THANKS to everyone who signed up to receive this kooky newsletter and get entered into my I plan on doing a fancy video later to announce the winner, so stay tuned. And if you're new here and wondering, "WTF did I sign up for?" stick with me. I'm told I grow on people.
Finally, I brought my fiddleleaf fig (named Phyllis), who I've had for like three years, to the equivalent of a walk-in clinic for houseplants to be repotted. I stumbled upon In the Garden in Highlands when I stopped in after a hike through Hartshorne and got to talking to the gals there about Phyllis and her browning leaves. They said send pictures and then diagnosed her and said she needed to be repotted and also watered less. I also brought in a cutting I'd saved in some water after I pruned Phyllis in the fall, and they popped it in a pot and now I have a Baby Groot. This was not an expensive venture AND saved me the trouble of figuring out just where I was going to operate on Phyl. Not only is everyone there helpful and super knowledgeable, but they sell cute ferns and succulents and make gorgeous arrangements. Keep them in mind the next time you need something pretty for a table or send a birthday bouquet. Check out Phyllis and her baby below.
