a perk I didn't know I had

In March of this year, two good friends tell me about Renew Active. It's a benefit of having AARP United as my supplemental insurance for Medicare.

Among other things, Renew Active includes a free membership to Life Time, a chain of US health clubs that would otherwise cost over $300/month. There are several in the city. 

I join last March. 

I have never been consistent with going to the gym. And, I don't like classes. But my friends convince me that water aerobics is a lot of fun and great exercise.

First I need to get the right gear. I buy two inexpensive chlorine-resistant bathing suits. 

Then a great little gym bag from Vooray (in black). 

I've now run out of excuses. 

I go to my first class in mid-August.  

The pool has a gorgeous skylight. The instructor is great. And the amenities (all Kiehl products) are perfect.

I go for about a month and then stop.

No reason. 

As I said, I have never been good at organized classes.

But the club is great, and I need to go. If I don't, I risk having my membership revoked. 

So today I go to a strengthening class. Like the swim class, this is part of the ARORA program — that is, "it's designed for active older adults." At least that sounds better than saying seniors.
I arrive early and am taken under the wing of a very fit woman.

Andrea gets me a mat. A balance ball. And chooses my weights. 1-3 pounds. "Start with the lightest ones first."

Then she gets her 15-20 pound weights. The difference is comical.

The class begins at exactly 11.

I do okay on the balance ball. I don't like the aerobic movements. And my knee starts to hurt before we even get to the weights. 

I walk out. It's 11:08.

I spend the next hour on the recovery floor (as if I need any recovery). That's where the fantastic mega-massage chairs are. 

I need to find a better reason to go.

Joining a fitness club for the massage chairs is not a good strategy.

second opinion

Finally, after waiting three months, I see the highly recommended Dr. Jose Rodriguez for a second opinion on my left knee. He's at Hospital for Special Surgery (which is only a few blocks from where I live).

After filling out about 80 thousand pages (or so it feels) of information online (you really need my religion? or the dates of my recent vaccines?), I am ready for my appointment.

I have a standing (as in upright), full body x-ray, and then more specific x-rays on my knee. Neither is the least bit uncomfortable. Why can't there be mammogram machines like these?

After a short wait, Molly (the PA) sees me first. She asks a few questions, reviews my x-rays, presses on both knees, and checks my mobility. Her conclusion is: you don't need surgery now.

Then Dr. Rodriguez comes in. He exams me too and agrees with Molly. He says at some point I probably will need surgery, but not now.

Even though my x-rays show bone-on-bone, and significant arthritis, no activities I now do are impeded by my knee.  Plus, I am not in a lot of pain (it's sporadic and never beyond a level 5, or so).  Dr. Rodriguez does not think that I would experience a substantial enough improvement to justify a full knee replacement now.

I walk home relieved. 

Maybe by the time I am ready, researchers will have perfected some new technology. 

There are promising clinical trials now being conducted that involve injectable gels that can lead to advanced cartilage regeneration. A shot would certainly be preferable to a scalpel.
If I can wait (which I can), I am happy to. By the time I need a new knee, maybe there will be a much better, less invasive, and less painful way to get one.

a brief history of this past year

Today being the last day of 2025, it would feel strange to write about anything other than it being the last day of 2025.

This has been a fairly uneventful year, as most years are recently. 

I miss being young, when the unexpected is not a rare occurrence.  Now I need to create new adventures, and without much money (and fear of running out), that is hard to do.
 
That's not to say that I'm unhappy. I'm not. But there is too much routine in my life and not enough spontaneous joy.

Aside from starting to blog again in late August, there have been only three major changes for me this year, all of which I've mentioned.

I lose my job on the last day of February at 4pm, on a Friday.  Within 30 minutes, my company account is shut down. I can no longer access anything. And a man appears at my apartment door to collect my computer. I feel immense relief coupled with immense fear. I am offered a paltry severance. But I no longer have that pit in my stomach every Sunday night. And every weekday morning. When I started, on September 12, 2022, the stock was trading at $9.89. Today it's valued at $.075 (decimal placement is correct). 

My mom is admitted to Falmouth Hospital on May 2 with pneumonia.   She recovers, but it is a scary month. Her new home, beginning in July, is Atria, a nice assisted living facility. Of course it's not the same. My mom never complains. Has made many new friends. But has lost much of her mobility. Both her home and car have been sold. Her life is very different than it was just a year ago. But she's safe, well cared for, and much-loved.

And finally, it is great to have my son living in NYC. I wish I saw him more, and didn't have to beg for each visit. He's still figuring out how to balance work and play. And because I fit into neither category ... well seeing me is not a high priority. I understand except when I don't.

Life overall is good. I'm healthy. Have great friends. Feel closer to my sisters. And still live in the world's greatest city.

I just need more unexpectedly great surprises.

Wishing you all a most magnificent 2026.

 

a few random, inconsequential thoughts

Here are some things that fill my head lately — some fleetingly, others not. Is it worth $10 for a cinnamon bun? 

Even one that is supposed to be the best of the best? One that is sold from a store whose sole products are multiple variations of this one item?

Hmmm. It is excellent. But probably not much better than the ones sold at West Falmouth Market for half the price. Then again, West Falmouth Market is almost 300 miles from me.

There should be a hair-height limit for people who attend theater. If you're tall, hey, then you're tall. But if you choose to wear a hairstyle that blocks the view of those behind you, well that just shouldn't be allowed. My view yesterday is totally blocked. Fortunately I can change my seat.

I'm reading and loving The Correspondent. It just bothers me that the main character, who is my age, sounds like none of my friends, and projects herself as being ancient. I know that objectively I can be described as an old lady.  I don't identify that way and find the descriptor loathsome, even if true. And though I hate to admit it, aging is something a think about every single day.

I am amazed at how well this product works on removing dry blood on fabrics. (As I said, these thoughts are random).

I've seen about 50 movies since October to prepare for BAFTA voting. My two favorites are: One Battle After Another and Marty Supreme.

I feel immensely lucky to have smart, fun, female friends. They enrich my life in ways too numerous to count. They astound me with their generosity, insights, and willingness to listen, to play, to advise, to recommend, and to make me laugh.

I do sometimes wish I had one or two male playmates that were local. The few male friends I have (and cherish) all live many states away.

I walk around the city and know that I absolutely love it here. I never take for granted that I get to call New York City my home.

While I don't see my son nearly as much as I'd like, knowing he lives here is comforting. He's experiencing the city in ways he never has before, and discovering, really for the first time, its greatness. 

Today we get together for lunch, totally unplanned. I am later meeting a friend to see a show in Times Square. Alexander picks a small, casual place on 51st and Fifth, across from St. Patrick's. 

After lunch, we exit onto Fifth Avenue. Walking is near impossible as the streets and sidewalks are jammed with pedestrians.

I say, "Let's head west to get out of this mess." He responds, "Well, this mess is so much better than that mess (referring of course to the crowd-quality on Fifth Avenue vs the one a few blocks over on Eighth). 

He makes me laugh even when he's barely trying.

the bad state of things

I had planned to write about my Saturday night dinner with Terri — a good friend of over 30 years who now lives in Florida.

I was going to write about how she surprised me with the news that she has fallen totally and addictively in love with an Argentinian man who seems perfect, but in a very real way...this is not a future Dateline story. 

In the many years I've known Terri, I have honestly never seen her more beautiful, more content, or more happy. I am thrilled for her.

Our three hours fly by, and the pictures do little to capture her beauty.

It'd be nice to be thinking all good things, given such a fun night. But I write what's on my mind, and tragically, this is what is on my mind today.

• A random shooting at Brown where two are killed.

• A massacre at Bondi Beach in Australia where at least 20 are killed at a Hanukkah event.

• And the murder of Rob Reiner and his wife in his own home.

This is a blog about mostly trivial stuff. Day-to-day pleasures and annoyances. I try to stay away from the bigger news items. But sometimes it's impossible.

I think Trump is playing a major role in poisoning our collective society.

I'm not saying that he is responsible for any of the tragedies I've sited above. But his politics have created a divisive global environment that encourages angry, dangerous behavior. Just recently he called all Somalis "garbage." This, from a world leader. This, from the person who represents our great country. He has said worse and done worse. Here is a man who embraces violence  (January 6 being the most egregious example) and uses extreme rhetoric and actions against those who don't support him (too many examples to list).

Like so many, I pray that things improve in 2026.  And that Democrats and informed Republicans do a better job of countering what's been happening.

We need more positive actions. More good news. Better, bolder world leaders.

(Sorry, I usually stay away from politics, but I just had to add my two-cents, which literally doesn't even exist anymore).

ADDENDUM

Trump just posted this on his Truth Social site:

Rob Reiner, a tortured and struggling, but once very talented movie director and comedy star, has passed away, together with his wife, Michele, reportedly due to the anger he caused others through his massive, unyielding, and incurable affliction with a mind crippling disease known as TRUMP DERANGEMENT SYNDROME, sometimes referred to as TDS.

about a coat

I love the feeling of selling stuff. Sure, the extra money is nice. 

But even more importantly, I like the feeling of giving more life to something I once enjoyed.

So in going through my closet, I see a coat that takes up a lot of room (space being a huge issue living in Manhattan). It's a long, shearling coat that is exceptionally warm. And because I rarely wear it (maybe once each winter, if that), I opt to sell it on Poshmark. I take a few pictures this summer and decide to wait for cooler weather before posting.

So now it's cooler weather. Much cooler weather.

It's uncharacteristically freezing out. I have several puffer jackets — different lengths, different degrees of warmth. But none compare in warmth to this coat. 

Tonight I am meeting a couple of friends to see a play at some tiny downtown off-broadway theater. The temperature is in the 20's. Hmmm. Maybe I should wear the coat I was going to sell.

I leave my house nice and toasty. 

On the subway, there's a sketchy character across from me. And he starts talking. Loudly. I soon realize he's talking about me.

"Look at her in her fancy coat. She's oblivious to those in need." (I'm just sitting reading my Kindle.)

"She doesn't have a clue about people like us."

I want to shout back that I'm unemployed, can't find a job, and scared about my future. I don't.

"I bet that coat could feed every single person on this train," he says to no one, in a voice all can hear.

I move my seat.

When I exit the train, there's a several block walk to the theater. The coat is long, and I need to hold it up to my knees when I climb stairs.

And it's heavy, forcing me to walk slower than I'd like.

I miss my lightweight, puffer coat. Maybe not quite as warm, but warm enough.

This impractical coat will soon be finding a new home.

Addendum

Before I thought of selling my coat, I had considered shortening it. That would have made it more practical and more walkable.

I even found some photos of the coat it could be.

And then yesterday I found this coat, in a closet I don't often use:

I had totally forgotten I had the coat I wanted.

It'll be perfect for those ultra cold days. Though I just might not wear it on the subway.

a big bash

I have never been much of a party girl. Even in my twenties. The concept is appealing but the reality almost never lives up.

Home parties I like. Or small get-togethers. But mingling among strangers has never really appealed to me. I can hear my mom whispering in my ear, "Go. Maybe you'll meet someone. You never know." By someone she means a guy. And that has never happened. 

Even weddings or Bar Mitzvahs. I wish there were options to choose from.  For a wedding, I'd select the ceremony and the drinks/appetizers after. I'd skip the dinner and dancing part. I wish the idea would catch on.  

During this time of year, I get tons of invitations for screenings. Many have Q&A's after. A small number come with receptions, before or after. And a select few come with big budgets and a spare-no-expense party.  That was tonight's affair.

I meet up with a couple of friends to see a screening (one episode) from the HBO series Task. 

Much of the cast (and the creator) are on stage for a Q&A after.

After, about 250 people or so walk over to a nearby restaurant, Redeye Grill. HBO has taken it over for the night.

The place is big. Two levels. Impressive food stations on both floors (sushi, pasta, salmon, beef filets and dessert). An open bar. And mingling stars.

Unlike many who run to get selfies, I don't. 

I mean really. What could I possibly say having now seen only episode 6 of a 7-part series? 

Soon I will watch Task, even though I now know who the snitch is, who gets killed, and who survives for Season Two.