Friday, December 15, 2006


farking hell, december already. i don’t know why time and its passage still surprise me. the way the days pile on top of each other to turn into months and now, almost, a year. not like i could expect a different outcome. but here i am again with the requisite, “oh, where does the time go? oh, the days move too fast.”

i remember how dreadfully slow time moved during childhood when i would count down the days until winter recess, summer vacation. the school year seemed so long and dreary, like adolescence itself. and though i don’t miss being a kid one bit, i do miss the nervous anticipation that accompanied every new calendar year, which signified the approach of a birthday, one year closer to emancipation at 18, to ultimate freedom.

nowadays, new years signify tax season and the need to put 2007 instead of 2006 on my checks, which will trip me for months. they signify the end of holiday gluttony, with the scattered picked-over party trays and dried-up poinsettias. then come the repercussions in the form of credit card bills, increased gym visits, crusty fruitcakes.

not to scrooge. i’m quite content with the present state of things, which, by all measures, is delightful. i have goodness all around me. i feel stable, secure, loved, in control and... bored.

the days are predictable: wake, work, sleep, rinse and repeat. and next year will be no different. i also feel perpetually sick, having just shaken off a cold that kept me home from work for a few days. i had gnarly sniffles that moved me through a box of tissues a day and left me with tender nostrils. when i went in for a haircut last weekend, my hair guy seemed alarmed by their redness, and asked whether i had a “colombian hangover.” now it feels as though the bug jumped from my nose to lungs, making me wheezy.

while home sick, i roamed around in my polka dot pajamas, looking for low-effort things to do between naps. at some midday point, the phone rang and i went to grab it, checking the caller ID as usual before answering. “Zsa Zsa Gabor,” it read. fuck! “hello! hello?” dial tone. fuck!

it was the highlight of my day.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

The Digs

much of my spare time and money the past several months have been poured into beautifying my home. it’s become such a favorite pastime of mine that i don't know how to exist without it. and if my lengthy Upgrade List is any indication, i won’t need to know anytime soon as even perfectly functional housewares – like the Martha Stewart dinnerware set i bought at Kmart years ago – have been deemed in need of replacement.

most recently, my living room underwent a major facelift that saw its walls painted and furniture replaced. we cancers are a domestic ilk who prefer their houses to be homey and i am no exception. my lounge time at home is one of my most cherished activities so i aimed for comfort and color when reimagining my living room.

luckily i had a design guru boyfriend to help me in my decorative pursuits. “you need to get over your color fear,” Mo would say (almost daily), picking out a Cabbage Green swatch at Home Depot. i can’t say we agreed on everything, but i am glad i went with his suggestions as they produced a mighty cozy room. and i’m very thankful that he did the painting and put together most of the furniture as my sorry self can barely use a level correctly. here are the results.

in this corner: we have my lustrous desk/work area where all the sitting on my ass takes place. nothing really changed here. still disorganized as ever.

another corner: i should be lighting those candles more often, but they only ever seem to burn during a party. whoops, just thinking aloud. so yeah, this is another corner of the living room.

the blue dog: Mo didn’t paint this, but it used to hang in his apartment before he moved in with me.

also Mo’s: this is a flattened spray can painted by L.A. street artist Buff Monster, whom Mo recently interviewed for a feature on Archinect.

this one’s mine: anyone who’s eaten at Canter’s on Fairfax has likely passed the Blitzstein Museum of Art. i surely had, and was long desirous of something from his store. i landed on this piece very quickly upon walking in – the lightbulb man painted on natural wood with a hole in his heart. i snatched it on the spot.

Matryoshka: that’s the Russian word for Soviet nesting dolls. i also snatched these up as soon as i saw them, a few years back while on my European adventure. they feature former Soviet leaders, starting with little Lenin in the center, then up to Stalin, Khrushchev, Yeltsin and Gorbie topping them off with painted hickey on his head.

more Soviet: the 1980 Olympiad poster, plus another one of Mo’s Buff Monster cans (he has three total).

the non-blue dog: no living room of mine could ever be complete without the sweet and smiley juice.

always been a stunner: here we see the photogenic wonder wide awake, at left, aged four months; and sound asleep, at right, six weeks old.

her boyfriend and mine: exchange knowing glances while sitting on the couch together, both probably wondering, “what the hell is up with these bitches?” black Max is a neighbor’s dog and frequent houseguest.
(maybe this is my color fear taking over, but i’m worried that those uber-bright throws are a bit much for the already bright room. i’m thinking of replacing them with solid brown throws that match the chocolate-colored futon underneath. yes?)

another bulbous head: Mo says i have a penchant for these in the artwork i select, like this painting i bought several years ago while on a trip to mexico.

another Soviet head: dusty, busted Lenin bust in iron with russian devil figurine nearby.

the wall: wide shot of elements combined.