Friday, March 16, 2012

Honey, we're not in Park Slope anymore
 
Today an older gentleman pulled up his car next to me as I was crossing the railroad tracks on the way to the gym. I imagined F being very disappointed in me if I got myself into a sticky situation by entering the car of someone I don't know. Of course, ten minutes later I found out he was an esteemed client of my gym and I excused myself explaining that I am from NY. He giggled and formally introduced himself so that the next time I can catch a ride. Anytime I even thought in getting in a unlicensed limo in Brooklyn, I had flashes of myself on the cover of the Post the next day.

Another sign we have left America. This morning  Gemma, one of my bosses at LIFE gym, gave me an energy treatment and she made the leg that is shorter the same length as the other one without ever touching it. We bonded over how energy work has changed our lives and it was great.

Then on a more me note, I thoroughly scandalized my Italian students by playing the song Too Drunk to F**K by Nouvelle and doing a little dance ala Pulp Fiction and then proceeding to translate the lyrics word for word. Oh yeah, honey, we live here now.


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