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Welcome to my little corner of the ether. This is where you will find information about my books and musings on life and love in New York City. To stay in the loop about all things ADR...


Work hard. Play hard.

I have always done these things. Both of these things. I have always believed in these twin existential aims.

I have been working really hard these days. Writing really hard. Parenting really hard. If I am sitting, I am writing something. A blog post. A book chapter. An email. Words. Okay, or I am watching delicious television programs that are either smart or stupid. (Mad Men and Girls are among the former while the Bachelorette is among the latter. Fine.) If I am standing, I am usually chasing - a scooter-ing kid, or a stair-climbing baby, or a dream of some kind.

But am I playing hard enough? And what does this mean now, now that I am in my thirties and married avec wee ones? What does it mean to play, and to play hard? Once upon a time, I equated playing hard with getting gussied up and going out and drinking oodles of wine. These days I do indulge in frequent date nights with my man, but they are often in jeans and very mellow in nature, and, yes, sans vino.

These days, playing means something different. In means getting down on the floor with tiny creatures and doing a Hello Kitty puzzle or having a picnic. These days, playing means having a dance party in our kitchen or going for ice cream around the corner.

Work hard. Play hard.

Yes. I am still doing these things. Even though I have grown up (a bit) and the meaning of these things - working, playing - has changed.


Do you work hard and play hard? Do you work harder or play harder? Do you think the meaning of these things indeed changes over time (or should at least)? What does it mean to you to work hard, to play hard? What TV (silly, serious, smart, stupid) are you watching these days??

You Cannot See Me.

Making My Way.