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I recently came across Paulo Coelho's work. He's a Brazilian writer, rather controversial. Critics believe his work is simplistic and that he plagiarizes. To that I would say that some of the most profound messages are the simplest. And there are really no new themes or plots in literature...so . . .
A few months ago, I swabbed the inside of my cheeks and sent two little vials in for DNA testing. No, I wasn't tryin' to find out who my daddy is, I already know that. And no, I am not going on the Maury show to find out who my baby's daddy is, either. I decided to participate in National . . .
This is posted in my trainer's office: Stand on a comfortable surface, where you have plenty of room at each side. With a 5-lb potato sack in each hand, extend your arms straight out from your sides and hold them there as long as you can. Try to reach a full minute, then relax. Each day you'll . . .
Someone I know got The Esquire Men's Guide to Life for Christmas. It covers such rules as this: Rule #108: The road to hell is not paved with good intentions. The road to hell is paved with smooth-jazz CDs, herbal teas, John Tesh specials, and low-fat cheese. Or this: Rule #24: A man in a . . .
You've probably figured out that these prints are my latest fascination. I have no illusion that the Varga girl is any less an idealized object than the emaciated Posh Beckham of today. She just looks like she has wayy more fun. . . .
Bear with me, it's a circuitous route, but I'll get there.So I spent the better part of the day putting things in my bedroom closets. Organizing. Discarding. I had no choice: my digital cable showed only football and something titled Celebrity Ab Secrets. Ok, that's an exaggeration. But really, . . .
Yesterday's post about kids cruising the main drag in Los Gatos on Friday nights made me think about nostalgia. It's not an uncommon thought, considering my love for doo wop and the preponderance of oldies from the 60s and 70s on my Ipod. I suppose every generation has a bent for the "good old . . .
..is hard. Really, really hard. Our teacher, Melanie, moved things along pretty fast in the hour. "This ought to be hard, you should be really feeling the exertion now," she said at one point, followed by this: "Stay in your body." Really? Must I? Actually, I'd much rather be in . . .
Is there anything better than a cup of hot, rich coffee early in the morning? The California girl in me prefers Peet's, or even Seattle's Best, to the more bitter brew that Starbucks prepares. But Starbucks wins the prize for conveniently-located shops and best hang-out place. Especially the . . .