Having just returned from a long weekend in L.A. (both literally and in the “endurance” sense), this week’s post is a total cop-out. Hope you enjoy it!
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Having just returned from a long weekend in L.A. (both literally and in the “endurance” sense), this week’s post is a total cop-out. Hope you enjoy it!
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When I first got contact lenses in 7th grade and announced ecstatically that I could finally see properly, my mother burst into tears. I remember this primarily because it’s the only sentimental thing she ever did.
Since then, glasses, contacts and post-age-40 reading glasses have been a fact of life and an ever-expanding part of my wardrobe. If I wear my contacts I can’t see anything smaller than type THIS BIG so I stash reading glasses all over the house, in the car and in at least one pocket. This also requires the expensive addition of reader sunglasses — also stashed in multiple locations. And yet, I often can’t find a pair.
Although I see best with my regular (progressive bifocal) glasses, they’re a real pain. They get dirty. They stretch and eventually slip off my nose. And they’re heavy enough to break tiny blood vessels in my cheeks if I wear them all the time. Memo: stock up on cover up.
Eventually I’ll probably need cataract surgery and maybe by then science will have a perfect solution. Meanwhile, at my latest annual eye exam, my doctor suggested I try monovision to eliminate the need for readers, which she thought would work better for me than bifocal contacts.

How It Works
With monovision, you wear a contact lens on one eye to correct your distance vision (aka nearsightedness) and a lens on the other eye to correct your near vision (farsightedness). The distance vision lens is worn on your dominant eye, i.e., the one that sees far away objects better.
The term “monovision” is a bit misleading. After about a week or two, brain learns to merge the two images to (theoretically) let you see clearly at all distances. But each eye will still see best at its own designated correction.

Plan on Multiple Visits
My eye doctor warned me that it might take multiple visits before landing on the right combination. Meanwhile, as my friend S (who won’t try this) says, I could be walking into walls. I leave with a 10-day supply of trial lenses. Note: you may be charged a higher fitting fee than usual because most people need “tweaking” before the lenses are perfect.
Rx 1: Right eye (distance) same as my normal prescription. Left eye (close up): under-corrected for distance and too blurry for close-up reading. Result: dizziness and lousy vision. Lose-lose.
Rx 2: A different doctor (young and impossibly chic) gives me a thorough exam trying a lot of subtle modifications to get me closer to the best prescription. Results: No change to right eye. Left eye made weaker so close-ups are better, but not great. Still dizzy and not seeing well enough. Feh.
Rx 3 (3 weeks after my initial checkup): Dr. Chic has me try a toric (weighted) lens for the mild astigmatism in my right eye. Upside: distance vision is a little sharper. Downsides: toric lenses are more expensive, thicker, and have to be perfectly positioned. She explains that there is a vertical line on the lens that should be at the bottom when you place it in your eye. After struggling to figure out why the line keeps moving, I realize the next day that there are actually TWO vertical lines – one will be at the top of the lens when the other is at the bottom. This seems unnecessarily complicated.
For the left eye, she gives me an even weaker lens. Now my close-up vision is excellent. Off I go with more test lenses, opting to wait a few days to see if this whole experiment is worth it or if I should just renew my old contacts prescription and stick with reading glasses. After all, I have made a substantial investment in readers at this point!
The Research
What I’ve learned so far: Not everyone is a monovision candidate. Some people find that it compromises the clarity of their distance vision, making far away objects appear slightly blurry. I suspect this is going to be my problem, especially when I’m driving.
For others, monovision doesn’t provide good enough near vision to eliminate the need for readers. That would be pointless, no?
Finally, although the two eyes work together as a team, there can be a slight loss in depth perception. And I’d always need to carry glasses with me in case of an emergency (e.g., getting something in my distance eye and truly not being able to see anything.) If I have to carry glasses, wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier to just wear them?? Plus, they’re never going to fit in a small purse.
All in all, I’m giving this another week. Fingers (and eyes) crossed!
A friend sent me this helpful guide the other day. Author unknown.
| You can retire to Phoenix, Arizona where…
1. You are willing to park three blocks away from your house because you found shade. OR You can retire to California where… 1. You make over $450,000 and you still can’t afford to buy a house. OR You can retire to New York City where… 1 You say “the city” and expect everyone to know you mean Manhattan. OR You can retire to Minnesota where… 1. You only have three spices: salt, pepper and ketchup. OR You can retire to The Deep South where… 6. You can say anything about anyone, as long as you say “Bless his heart” at the end. OR You can move to Colorado where… OR You can retire to Nebraska or Kansas where… OR FINALLY You can retire to Florida where…
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Let’s re-name Black Friday, “Insane Driver Day”. The official start of shopping frenzy is less about the sales, whether online or brick-and-mortar, and more about the holiday fog that threatens to engulf even the mildest of revelers. Miraculously, it appears to lift on January 3rd.
I especially notice this at the grocery store. Austinites are generally considerate and polite. But come holiday season it’s every one for him/herself, cutting people off in the parking lot, leaving their cart blocking the aisles, and rushing about as if there will never be another opportunity to buy milk. Gah!
A few suggestions for anyone who wasn’t organized enough to have all their holiday shopping done in July (that would be me and 99% of everyone I know).

1) Always have a back-up plan. If the sweater you wanted to buy Cousin Joe isn’t available, already know that he needs a new iPad cover, gym bag or shot glasses, and move on.
2) Keep some wrapped all-purpose gifts (fancy chocolates, imported cookies, small tins of caviar, champagne, wine, candles, pretty soaps etc.) in an easy-to-find location so you’re ready if someone you never exchange gifts with suddenly surprises you. (Do you hate that as much as I do?) This is especially useful at the office. Take that cardigan out of your desk drawer to make room.
3) Never shop on an empty stomach. You will be cranky and resentful. Keep some peanuts in your purse or car for a quick protein boost.
4) Buy something nice for yourself. It doesn’t have to be expensive, just something that will make you feel pampered. A new lipstick always perks me up; men, you’re on your own as far as suggestions go.
5) Take deep breaths. I recently read that a quick trick to relax is to cover one nostril and breathe slowly several times, then repeat by covering the other side. Failing that, a glass of whiskey or a Xanax should do the trick.
6) Watch comedies and avoid dramas, especially if your family or romantic situation is less than picture-perfect. This is no time to feel inadequate.
7) Plan a vacation for January or February. It could be as simple as a spa weekend or exploring a nearby city you rarely visit. Keep reminders of your trip on your night table so you fall asleep with something positive to anticipate.
8) Don’t feel obligated to accept every invitation. Being over-scheduled will make you tense. General merriment is highly overrated anyway.
9) Call or write to the people you love, give something to charity, soak in a hot tub, and be kind to yourself. That’s the best gift of all.
I was born with wanderlust in my heart. I emerged not head first, but with an outstretched arm. Although this was widely interpreted as a sign of friendliness (quickly disproven, as I was a shy and introverted child) I believe it was a deliberate reaching-out for someone to grab my hand and get me out of the womb as quickly as possible so I could explore somewhere new.
As my husband and I (and many of our friends) approach retirement, one of the big questions we’re debating is: Where will we live once we’re not tied to a job? For many, there’s a desire to return to their childhood hometown. I envy those of you who have a clear vision, because I can’t picture any single destination that feels like the perfect fit.
I come by this schizophrenia naturally, having grown up in two places. My family lived in Manhattan (and, later, Long Island) for nine months of the year but spent every summer on Cape Cod as my father, a professor, had summers off. Although we were only there from June until Labor Day, the Cape felt like my true home. I was just marking time the rest of the year until I could return.
These days, I feel the same impatience to begin the summer in coastal Oregon. It’s the pull of the ocean: the smells and sounds of the waves as we fall asleep, the cool temperatures, and a pervasive sense of relaxation.
At the same time, though, I wouldn’t want to live there year round. It’s too remote and too far from a city; I’m still a New Yorker at heart. But which city? I have no desire to move back to Manhattan, so the conversation goes round and round as we keep exploring where to spend those other 6-7 months.
Maybe I’ll never find that one perfect place. And maybe that’s ok. As the cliché goes, home(s) is where the heart is.
If you’re like me, the concept of “family” is complicated. The family we’re born into may be less than ideal, incorporating fraught relationships with parents or siblings. Even in families with a relatively healthy dynamic, there’s often a tendency to act or be treated as if we are eternally eight years old.
As we get older, our definition of family expands and changes. Lines blur as our children become friends, close friends become more like siblings, and siblings may become strangers.
Since Thanksgiving is a holiday that’s typically associated with family, let’s celebrate ALL our families, not just our biological ones:

This is one of my favorite recipes for dessert, whether you’re hosting or bringing something to the feast. Almond flour and Whey Low make it healthier.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone — however (and with whomever) you spend it!
Double Chocolate Almond Flour Brownies
Ingredients
Instructions
The 45-minute closet clean up
One of the best ways to clear my head is to clean up my surroundings. It’s a no-brainer to toss the stuff I hate. What’s harder to identify are stealth garments that lurk among my favorites: clothes I used to love but barely wear, items that are serviceable but not exciting, expensive mistakes, and anything that doesn’t quite fit.
Weeding out things that no longer work — whether clothes or noxious elements in your life — can seem overwhelming. So start small. You can do this whole purge in under an hour. Or if that’s too much, attack just one category a day. Spend 5 minutes on each and be ruthless!
A final note on fit: Clothes that are too small make us feel like failures. Clothes that are too big make us look frumpy and imply we’re going to backslide. Limit your wardrobe to fewer items that fit right now. You’ll feel more attractive, confident and in control.
Now that I’m at one month post-surgery, I can tell anyone who’s contemplating a bunionectomy what to expect. Warning: gnarly photos ahead; not for the squeamish (this means you, dear husband)!!
Day of surgery
We arrive at the facility at 7 a.m., where the TV in the waiting room is endlessly replaying recaps of last night’s endless presidential debate at top volume. This is one time I would give anything for Keeping Up with the Kardashians or any of the Real Housewives.
I’m prepped, changed into a gigantic dressing gown and stuck with IVs and other stuff to measure my vital signs. My blood pressure is very low (100/70) so I am either actually relaxed or a zombie, not sure. Luckily, hearing Trump did not spike my BP to lasting effect.
We talk to the anesthesiologist, who is extremely thorough and asks detailed questions nobody else has. I see my doc and it’s off to dreamland from about 9 to 12, when I emerge in the usual post-surgical fog. (Note: they use a general anesthetic since they literally don’t want you to move a muscle.)
Here’s my “before” photo. Pretty ugly, I know. That’s why I’m here.

Once home, I settle into bed with the following:

Today’s about resting, following multiple instruction sheets, eating mild food and sleeping. Lots of sleeping.
Day 2
No pain yet so nerve block must still be working. I take pain meds prophylactically every four hours to avoid it though. My main job is to alternate ice on/off every 30 minutes and keep moving my legs and rotating my ankle to prevent blood clots.
I’m not at all hungry until dinnertime, and still in a drug fog most of day. My poor husband has to do all cooking/cleanup/etc. and it’s going to be a long slog until I can contribute.
Day 5
My foot is bandaged like The Mummy, and just about as shapeless.

I’m now taking ibuprofen only if needed. The pain block (Exparel) lasted 4 days and is a bona fide miracle drug. Getting around on the scooter is quite a production. It doesn’t have much of a turning radius and I have to keep locking the brake so it won’t slip. Once locked in position, it gives me a secure place to rest my leg.
Crutches require upper body strength so I’m lifting hand weights to help. I can touch down with my operative foot (partial weight is ok) which is better than hopping. But it’s a pretty exhausting way to get around.
I’m officially allowed to shower, which is a multi-step process beginning by removing my safety shoe and encasing my foot in a knee-high plastic bag that looks like a giant condom.

Funny, I never noticed before how high the “lip” of the shower is; trying to get over it with one leg is quite a challenge. My DH (dear husband) helps lift me in; once in, I’m fine. His back, not so much. We don’t attempt this again– back to sponge baths!
Day 6
My heel and the sole of my foot are quite bruised. I resume taking oral arnica, which I stopped a few days ago, and start applying topical arnica too. Hope this helps.

First post-op visit
It’s 8 days after surgery. DH drives me and the scooter over to the doctor’s office. His nurse removes the bandages. The top of my foot is swollen and my toes look like fat little sausages. She tells me that swelling can take 6 months to a year to fully resolve. Oh joy. The incision is about 3″ long and is healing well but I can’t transition to a walking boot yet; the bone a little softer than ideal for full weight-bearing so I’ll have to wait and hopefully get the boot next week.

Week 1: Who are you and what have you done with my ankles?!
I bump up my calcium intake to 600 mg twice a day, having slacked off to once a day during the previous month. (Note to those of you anticipating having this procedure: Make sure to increase weight bearing exercise and check your vitamin D levels well before surgery since vitamin D is needed for calcium absorption.)
Pain is low level but I experience occasional throbbing. Ibuprofen at normal levels (a 200 mg tablet every 4-6 hrs as needed) is helpful. Sleep is more challenging.
By now I have mastered the multi-step shower dance: first, DH places a chair outside the shower so I can use the chair back as support. I ease in and sit on the shower bench and then DH moves the chair so the door can close. You do not want to be in a rush for this one! If my shower didn’t have a built-in seat this would not work, since I can’t balance on my left heel for the time it takes to shower and do my hair. Best plan is to alternate with sponge bathing for now.
2nd Post Op Visit
Big disappointment at Week Two: Although everything is healing well, my nice doctor wants me to stay off my foot for another two weeks to be on the safe side. We do not want the pins in there shifting around. Ergo, still stuck with the scooter. On the plus side, my triceps are tightening up from lifting and repositioning the damn thing every few minutes. And since the incision is almost fully healed, except for a couple of steri strips, I have a new cleaning option (sans giant leg condom): the tub!

Week 2
This is way easier: position the scooter next to the tub, step in with my good leg, then lower the other one, making sure not to step down. All good.
Weeks 3 & 4
Continue to heal, no pain although bruised areas are still sore, and finally when I see my doctor at Week 4 he lets me transition to a walking boot. It’s very space-age, with a pump to inflate and deflate pressure. Unfortunately, the sole of the boot is 2″ higher than my regular shoe, so I am listing like a drunken sailor. But, I’m ambulatory! BTW, you can order a sort of platform thingy from Amazon called EvenUp. It looks a bit like a snowshoe and adds 1/2″-3/4″ height to your normal shoe or sneaker. My hiking boot is almost the right height so I’m not too uneven for the two days I wait for Amazon delivery.
Week 4
My tasks at home are to exercise the toe by bending it forwards and backwards (ouch) to keep it flexible (3 sets of 10 reps, twice a day) and to cover the scar with ScarAway, a silicone patch you cut to whatever size you need to help prevent and flatten the incision. So far, I’ve taken four baths and it hasn’t budged.
Wrap-up
After 4 weeks I’m still swollen around the ankles as well as the ball and top of my foot (an ace bandage leaves indentations) but I can already see improvement. Best of all, I’m now cleared to drive so I feel much more independent. Come spring, I might even splurge on some Jimmy Choos!
I always feel conflicted when someone else cleans my house. On the one hand, there are times I’m sidelined due to injury or illness, or just plain too busy to keep things looking tidy. On the other, it feels much too “Lady of Leisure” to be lolling about while someone else does the scut work, regardless of how much they’re being paid. Ideally, I’d be out of the house but it’s not always practical.
This feeling of guilt makes it even more difficult to fire someone if they’re (OK, she – because, let’s be honest, it’s usually a woman) is not doing a good job. Admittedly, this is a “high end” problem that won’t get you a lot of sympathy from any friends and family who clean their own homes.
Nevertheless, whether and how to do it is a legitimate quandary.
I hate to generalize, but I’ve found that even the best cleaning people become complacent after a while. If you really like your housekeeper but are becoming unhappy with the quality of work, here are some suggestions before you pull the plug:
After a few weeks, one of two things will happen: Either you’ll be happier with the work or it will be time to part ways. Needless to say, never break up with someone if they still have your keys!
This is one of the few instances where I believe fibbing is in order.
All things considered, I prefer using a cleaning service. You always get new people, so you don’t develop an awkward relationship. And I think they try a bit harder.
Remember: Be fair. Be firm. And line up your next option before you quit cold turkey.
A dear friend writes:
“A couple of months ago, I decided I was tired of paying $100+ for hair color every four weeks (for one-process color, no highlights or anything exotic!) So I started doing it myself and actually my hair seems healthier and I love the color. When I went for my next haircut, I told my hairdresser that I just couldn’t justify paying over $100 for hair color. I told her I wasn’t going anywhere else, just doing it myself. Of course, she copped an attitude and I got a really crappy haircut. I thought, “Hmmmm…I hope she isn’t being spiteful.” Then the next month, I got an even worse haircut! This confirmed it for me and I won’t be going back, but I haven’t called yet to cancel my next appointment. What do you think? Have you been thru this???”
Yes! And more than once.
When I lived in New Jersey I regularly went to one salon for haircuts, color, skin care, manicures and massages. For a long time, a woman I’ll call Lisa cut and highlighted my hair and did a terrific job. I was willing to overlook the increasingly bizarre stories she’d tell about her relationship with the boyfriend who didn’t want to marry her. But after a while it became too stressful to listen to her tales of woe when all I wanted to do was relax and get my hair done. I was also hearing from my facialist that Lisa was driving her co-workers and other clients crazy; it wasn’t just me. I finally cut the cord, switched stylists, and eventually Lisa was fired. I always felt badly because she was clearly troubled, but I had to make a change.
About two years ago I had another unfortunate experience. Out in Oregon I had a good haircut and decided to have “Alice” touch up my highlights the next time. The result: wide, orangey, hideous streaks. After two tries, she was able to tone them down but the color was still way off.
When I got back to Austin I immediately went to my regular salon for help. A new colorist (“Casey”) decided to apply overall color (which I don’t need since I only have scattered grays) to blend everything in. Unfortunately, it was much warmer than my natural shade. And now I had a whole head of it! The only remedy was for everything to grow out, switch to yet another colorist (who, thankfully, is much more knowledgeable) and wait a year for my true base color to emerge. It was awkward having my hair done by someone else when Casey was in the salon but luckily she has now moved away – turns out she’d f’d up several other clients’ hair as well. It’s not me; I swear!
So here’s what I’ve learned: 1) We’re entitled to get what we pay for, but 2) many of us have trouble ending these relationships and feel anxious making up excuses.
Why is this so hard? Let me count the ways.
Repeat after me: It’s OK to move on! Once you are ready to break up, here are some suggestions:
Next time: How to break up with your housekeeper. (Or should you?)
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