Confessions on a dance floor

I was watching "Merge" yesterday when one of those Lifetime "Real Women" scenarios came on, in between the "what did they protect?" and the "throw it in the shredder!" segments. For those of you not well-versed in the structure of the Lifetime Television for Women commercial break, before the regularly-scheduled program comes back on, a "real" (i.e. non-celebrity) woman tells a brief story about how she came about doing something that provided necessary balance to her life. It's similar to the kinds of stories I liked working on at "Real Simple," except now I can enjoy them. Anyway, last night's Real Woman was a yoga instructor named Bertha. She was doing downward dogs on what looked like an inner-city rooftop. She said that while she doesn't look like the generic tight-bodied, youthful yoga teacher (she's a bit older and a lot fabulous), she takes what she's learned from yoga and tries to help her students find peace. She said something to the extent of how yoga has taught her to take challenges and move through them as opposed to taking challenges and suffering through them.

That really spoke to me. I feel very much like I've been suffering through challenges in the last two years, and it's become painfully obvious that it's a terribly ineffective way to approach adversity. And it drove home a recurrent theme in my life, that I have to change the way I approach stress. Anyway, I love Bertha. And I also feel like I've confessed a lot about myself here. To wit:

1. I love "Merge." It makes me want to repurpose all of Josh's old furniture that I hate.
2. I think Lisa Rinna's adorable, probably because she was Billie on "Days of Our Lives." She seems like a happy, pillow-lipped person.
3. I haven't figured out yet how to address the heavier goings-on in my life on my blog, or if I even want to. It's not why I started doing it, and it certainly doesn't make for a cheeky, breezy, fun read.
4. You know what is fun? Fry Orgy! (See previous post.)
5. It's a sign of the times when culture dictates that we differentiate between celebrity and non-celebrity women as "famous" and "real," respectively. So, by turns, celebrity women are not real. (Quite a few aren't, anyway. Say, for instance, Jennifer Aniston.)

On that note, I've taken about 510 billion pictures in the past two weeks and I'll start posting them tomorrow. Chicago! Autumn in Brooklyn! The New York City Marathon, my favorite day of the year! Chris Noth's ass! Yay! And don't forget Fry Orgy. We should never forget Fry Orgy.