Dyana’s Disasters

New Blog… No Dog

You know what they say about blogs, one day you’re creating one and the next thing you know, it’s seven years old! Or maybe I’m getting that confused with babies? Whatever. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to, baby, blog-o. So, I thought it was time to give her a new look. Like when you decide it’s finally time for your […] Read more…

Move Over Top Chef

Cooking is my adult version of dancing. When I was a child, all the way up until I left for college, I took dance lessons. Almost every day after school, I was at the dance studio. On weekends, I was traveling all over the state competing. The extra closet in our house looked like it […] Read more…

A Day in The Life…

 I recently heard Pink’s song “I’m a Hazard to Myself” on the radio, and thought, “You and me both, Sista!” To bring in a less (or rather, not at all) pop-culture-y reference I have found that the best way to describe myself is in Yiddish. I am both the schlemiel andthe schlimazel; that’s right, gentleman, […] Read more…

Another Day, Another Dent

I don’t agree with the assumption that all women are bad driver but this woman definitely is. In the past six months I have managed to treat my poor, sweet, red Jetta worse than Chris Brown treats Rhianna. First, there were the tires. Two in a row, same spot each time. I did it leaving […] Read more…

I Got Mugged

When I saw the guy walking behind us was wearing a gray hooded NY Knicks sweatshirt, I felt a kinship with a fellow East Coasters living in LA. I turned to glance at him and we made eye contact. He was a good looking African American with a shaved head, out for an evening stroll, […] Read more…

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