Today’s daily prompt is Panic.  Initially I wasn’t going to write anything about it, because I was mortally afraid to succumb to descriptions of complaints and nightmares, while thinking that I am actually writing about something profound, like life choices and important decisions.  However, I like the challenge.  If I really want to write, self discipline is very important, I am told, so Panic it is for my today’s post.

I find that whenever I panic about something, I try to rationalize it.  I am not panicking, I am just being realistic about my prospects, right?  And if I am afraid that something is going to happen as a result of my choice, it’s only because I understand the repercussions, and have to weigh all the possibilities, right?  Oh, God, I am panicking now, and I am not even sure why!


Stressed businesswoman

All right, let’s be serious about it.  Panic is, I find, one of the primary responses of my body to a new, unpleasant, and utterly unfamiliar situation.  Depending on whose theory you’d like to follow, this either means that I have an excess of estrogen surging in my body, or that am not disciplined enough to think things through without hysterics, which also seem to suggest that my femininity is to blame.  I firmly reject both notions.  In my mind, I am simply thinking too far ahead, thus getting overwhelmed by possibilities.

I find that in really perilous situations I usually behave pretty rationally and calmly, probably because I realize that panicking will make it much worse.  I also find that if I am really afraid of a particular outcome, it weirdly helps if I picture it in details beforehand, and somehow assure myself that this is not going to happen.

For example, one of my most recent panic attacks had to do with my impeding back surgery.  I was scared shitless.  I was in pain for too long, and by the time the surgeon told me I had to go under the knife, I already suspected that this was something I had to deal with willy-nilly.  But I found, that suspecting and hearing the statement point blank are two completely different things.  No matter how much I tried to persuade myself that everything is going to be fine, my vivid imagination kept drawing horrible pictures of bed pans and wheelchairs FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!  I run away from the doctor’s office, only to be marched back by my husband, who, luckily, was present during the discussion.  I researched the surgery and the surgeon ad nauseum.  I watched the videos and read the blog posts of the people, who survived it (big mistake, by the way!  Very few positive outcomes are being blogged about, and people mostly write in great detail about various things that went wrong after the surgery).  The level of panic, exacerbated by non-stop pain, strong painkillers and alcohol was through the roof.  Somehow I lived though pre-surgical days and nights, and by the time I had arrived to the hospital, I was ready for the worst, secretly hoping that it’s not going to happen, because, obviously, my Karma would protect me from it.

Needless to say, everything went fine.  The surgeon was great and the whole experience, while, understandably,  very scary and unpleasant, was made as painless as possible under the circumstances by the great staff at the Hospital for Special Surgeries in New York. images-1 Nine months after the surgery I am about 80% back to normal, albeit at a much slower pace.  Gone are Zumba sessions 4 times a week and weight lifting classes.  Forgotten is the Tabata timer on my phone.  Covered by a layer of thick dust are the Jillian Michaels exercise videos in my perpetually renovated basement.  As the good doctor says, I can only return back to my usual level of exercises a year after the surgery.  Before that I can do only Pilates and swimming.  I am not impressed by Pilates and I hate swimming in the pool.  Now I am panicking about never being able to get back into the shape.

I guess panic is an integral part of my life…  Since there is no way to fight it, I might as well embrace it.  My Karma protect me from the aftereffects, right???



Well, Blogging Fundamentals Course, you are really testing my social media capabilities, but I think I am up to the challenge!

Style is not something I’ve been born with.  Sometimes it takes me multiple tries to find the correct combination of pants and tops (or jeans and t-shirts), that would be comfortable and matching at the same time.  I’ve got friends that are always perfectlynothing-to-wear_0 dressed and can pull off some quite risky ensembles, but I’ve always been on admiring/judging end, rather than on creative one. Since I mostly work from home, my style choices are usually limited to sweat pants/yoga pants and sweater/t-shirt combination.  However, I sometimes feel that I manage to screw up even that modest task.

One day I bought a book about how one should dress depending on one’s body shape (that’s a lot of ones…).  I am sure it contains a lot of valuable advices, but no matter how many times I tried to follow them, I would get even more confused.

font-b-cocktail-b-font-font-b-dress-b-font-03792-new-fashion-party-elegantThere is only one notable exception in my otherwise unremarkable clothing collection.  I am talking about cocktail and evening dresses.  I absolutely love to wear fancy dresses to special occasions!  Moreover, being who I am ethnically, I am always guaranteed at least a few outings per year that would require an outfit that would not be out of place on the Red Carpet 🙂  Ok, maybe not exactly on the Carpet itself, but definitely on some after party, chilling with a glass of Dom Perignon.

Russian Restaurants of Brooklyn, NY, I am singing a rapturous song for you!  These are places where you can wear whatever spirit moves you to wear on that particular evening.  Most people, however, opt for something, erm, stylish.  Seguins, velvet, lace, open backs and decolletage, crazy heels and expensive jewelry; if you can name it, you can find it on any given Friday, Saturday or Sunday in abundance in any of 150 restaurants on Brighton Beach or whereabouts.  It’s considered a bad taste to wear the same outfit twice in the presence of the same company.  And that’s why even a bumbling style deficient wretch like me is a proud owner of a very decent number of evening gowns and cocktail dresses.  Nowdays they come with Spanx and other implements underneath, but hey, nobody needs to know that, right?  You haven’t read anything 🙂

As it happens, I am going to a special occasion this very Sunday and to one of the coolest Russian Restaurants to boot!  This event, obviously, called for the new dress, owing to some changes in my body shape, of which I am not very proud.  I know, I know, size and age are just numbers, and nobody said that they have to be exact numbers…  So after a few agonizing tries, a private crying and swearing ceremony, a secret pledging of fealty to Dr. Dukan starting Monday, and an eventful trip to a department store, the perfect dress wasimages found.  Bursting with pride, I modeled it for my husband.  It really looks good on me, if I do say so myself.  Can you imagine my feelings when the only thing my husband was able to say after he got his voice back was:  “Are you sure velvet is still en vogue right now?  Shouldn’t you have chosen a more modern material?”  Now, I admit that my hubby has a very good taste.  I am the living proof of it, after all.  But, seriously??  Evidently he is ignorant of the fact that materials never go out of style.  There is always some crazy designer, who is “bringing back” something that never went away in the first place.  Velvet is one of my favorite materials because it’s very forgiving, not to mention beautiful, bright, kind of sparkly in a good way (even without anything sewn on top of it), and comfortable.  I was a little worried, though.  What if he is right?  It’s his relatives’ party,  after all, and this means that I will be on display.  What if I will be the only velvet-wearing shmuck in the whole Brooklyn area?   The posibility of looking for another dress hung above my head like the sword of Damocles.  Surely, I can’t go through this experience again.  And then, with an unbelievable stroke of luck, I came upon Emmys coverage and found this pearl of journalism.  Turns out that


Take that, Game of Thrones!  All your puny nominations and paltry wins are second to the beauty of velvet!  And this means that for the first time in my life I will be EN VOGUE!

A New Theme

I spent forty five minutes today trying to chose a theme for my blog.  I had no idea this is going to be so difficult.  There is a plethora of blogs online, and each has a theme.  All of them look much more professional than mine.  3564_fee51463caa859cIn a way, selection of the blog theme reflects how well one understands oneself and knows what one wants. That’s a lot of ones…  If this is true, then I don’t understand myself at all.  I don’t know whether I prefer Hemingway Press, Kelly, Widely or Adele.  What do I want from the blog theme, after all?  Apparently I want something vague and amorphous, which I can’t describe even to myself.  How everyone else deals with it, is a mystery to me.  I even subscribed for a two week course from Word Press on how to create blogs, and today’s assignment was to create a post and insert a video or image content.  I have to confess, I had no idea what image or video I would like to insert.  For that matter, I had to read another part of the tutorial about how to insert one.  Finally I settled on The Thinker.  Bravo, Captain Obvious!  Mission accomplished, I guess.

Let’s see how long this new theme, romantically titled Adele, will live in my Den.  So far I like it more than the others, bar the dainty round bubbles at the top.  I must figure out how to remove them.  At least I know what I don’t like, which is already a progress, no?