In spite of a childhood spent in the Catholic church and a youthful desire to be a nun (and a ballerina), I am not religious. Neither are several of my friends, but with Lent upon us, we often use this time to to break a habit or to form a new one.

One friend is giving up sugar. Another is giving up meat. A forty-day Raw Food Diet would be a great challenge, but sustaining dietary extremes is difficult for me. Afterall, I share a life with a man who regards individually wrapped slices of plastic as "cheese".

I contemplated Baron Baptiste's 40 Days to Personal Revolution as the perfect undertaking, but I do not own the book. Can I start a day or two late? Will I lose points?

What are you working on in your life?

She's a Maniac

My relationship with Pittsburgh, the city of my birth, has been a strange one. Growing up there I knew I wanted to leave, but living away has me a touch homesick.

While I have my fair share of criticisms of the city -- Yes, it is a city where sweatpants and over-sized sports jerseys are appropriate restaurant wear -- , it annoys me beyond words when others talk shit about the city of my birth. The Pittsburgh Steelers are an embodiment of the city. Underestimated, tough, and always surprising.

I grew up in the age of the Steel Curtain, but it is a complete surprise to all of my friends that I still keep an eye on the Pittsburgh Steelers. Last night, I was the picture of the much-discussed Steelers Cult of Loyalty.

To know me is to need smelling salts at the mention of me
1) watching a sporting event of my own volition
2) doing so at a sports bar
But the secret is out. I am a rabid fan -- type who screams for blood and curses the opposing team. After three accusations of being a johnny-come-lately fan by a slug in a New York Jets XXXXXL jersey, I gave him the full-on hate glare and simply retorted, "I was born and raised in Pittsburgh."

To come from Pittsburgh is to know the pure joy of hoping and believing that anything is possible -- even with only 43 seconds to go.