39

i don’t remember acknowledging a birthday less than i acknowledged this one. or maybe didn’t acknowledge it. there were no parties nor dinners with friends, their treat, no hangovers nor forced, week-long, self-indulgent celebrations. the day arrived quickly, quietly, and left just as unassumingly, made special only by the evening massage Warren had scheduled for me.  
 
of course, i blame the lack of fanfare entirely on my son, whose nickname lately has been “buzzkiller.” not that i mind the diversion. at 39, i think it’s time to put away the titty tops and hangovers. i don’t want to be That Woman of a Certain Age slurring her words and hanging off a barstool. 

i prefer a good night’s sleep instead, welcome at any age, though in short supply for me lately. and herein lies my complete transformation into a Parent with a capital P, sleep deprived and whining about it on the internet.

though i’m sure i would be whining much more on this birthday if it had arrived without a crying baby and snoring husband disturbing my sleep. i feel as though the universe has done me a solid by throwing both at me right before i turn 40 to not only help me solidify my future, but also prevent any embarrassing blog posts lamenting my status as the Unlucky in Love Girl destined for a life of barrenness. good looking out, universe. 

this year, i feel my usual gratitude for my many blessings, but i also feel an underlying anxiety i have never before known. friends have told me recently that i’m “living the dream” and “have it all,” as though i’ve reached some celebrated finish line where i can finally rest easy with the knowledge that all the hard work is behind me. 

but i feel like my work is just about to begin. suddenly, i have a lot to lose. i now have to figure out how to nurture the two most important relationships in my life. and i’ll tell you a little secret, internet, this terrifies me.

i’m sure i’m not alone in my terror. i know that every new parent before me has developed the same awful awareness that every decision we make can ricochet in numerous, unpredictable ways. add to this the decisions involved in being someone’s wife and i’m made doubly uneasy. worst yet is that my current role as my boy’s faithful cow prevents me from drinking vodka to take the edge off.

to steady my blood pressure, i’ve been having many silent conversations with myself (more like lectures). i tell myself to calm my runaway imagination, to be reactive not reactionary, to stay grounded in logic and reality. and the reality is that we’re ok, we’re fine. that’s what i keep telling myself in those moments of needless panic, when the anxiety bubbles out of my brain and paralyzes my entire body. we’re ok, we’re fine. just keep working on it.

in those quiet moments at 3am when i nurse my son in his room, his fragile body pressed into mine, his warm breath landing against my skin, i’m working on it. and when i return to bed to lie next to my sleeping husband, his outline barely perceptible in the darkened room, i’m working on it. my world in those two bodies, so irrecoverably intertwined with the fiber of my being, yet somehow still not close enough to offer constant protection. 

i know i need to relax. i know i need to let go of the things i can’t control and trust life to take care of me in the way it always has in the past.   

i’m working on it.     

38

i feel like i’m finally reaching that age when getting excited about my birthday seems unnecessary. whereas before, i celebrated the big day like a 12-year-old finally turning 13, the transition from 36 to 37 has been just as unremarkable as it sounds. and now at 38, i can only summon the same emotion that has characterized each birthday for me since i hit 35: disbelief. 

in my head, i am still somewhere in my early 30s. and i’d like to remain there instead of facing the reality of eventually turning 40. not that there is anything wrong with 40 and what comes after, but the start of each new decade of life can’t help but carry with it some semblance of urgency that moves us to PANIC and begin taking life seriously. 

i don’t think i’ll be panicking when turning 40, certainly not like i did when i turned 30 and wrote a series of lengthy blog posts highlighting everything i wish i knew in my twenties (a.k.a., my failures at life). with that came goals i hoped to accomplish by the time i turned 40, goals i revisited at 33 and then again at 35 to check my progress (needless to say, i fell short). 

i thought of revisiting those goals again this year and then realized it would only depress me by highlighting my shortcomings, so better to skip it. and maybe that’s the biggest lesson i’ve taken away with each passing year: the key to maintaining happiness is staying delusional. this is not to suggest there is some simmering misery below the surface of my life, just that i don’t need to wreck a good mood in the name of facing a harsh reality. 

harsh realities will always be standing by to face later, and i’ll face them soon enough. they are not that scary anymore, which is perhaps another lesson i’ve taken away from the passing years: face the truth, even when it hurts like hell. because while the truth is often mean-spirited and runs counter to every well-intentioned life plan, it’s all we have, and it will always get us in the end. so better to pony up sooner and get the hurt over with.

i’ve been working at sorting out the truths in my own life for several years now and can say that, without a trace of irony, at 38, i’m happy. and of course now that i’ve confessed this to the unforgiving tubes of the internet, i will be fired from my job, mauled by one of my dogs, dumped by my boyfriend, cursed with facial warts, and overrun by an incurable case of BO. (note: i never said i stopped being neurotic.)

all joking aside, i am happy this year, just as i was last year around my birthday. at that time, i was entering into a relationship with Tico, which, admittedly, has provided me with a steady stream of smiles, punctuating the year with the warm and fuzzy emotions that can only come out of romantic love. though our union is far from perfect, it’s the healthiest relationship i’ve ever been in and i know i need to nurture it every day. this is less a reflection on past partners than it is on me and my previous inability to be in a healthy relationship. only took me 38 years to get here.

but even if i weren’t in a healthy relationship, i’d like to think i’d still manage to be happy, because romantic love is not my life’s ultimate goal – happiness is. i was plenty happy (though a little bored) during my year of celibacy in 2012 when i relied on the love of friends and family to fill me with joy. they also managed to provide me with their own special brand of warm fuzzies, and still do. the dogs do as well (miss you, Pinko).

add to that the stable career, roof over my head, food in the fridge, healthy parents and functional body, and i am one lucky girl. i don’t even need to keep reminding myself of this fact because it stays with me always nowadays, thanks to a lot of LA asshole-type navel-gazing in which i learned to reflect and simplify and basically chill the fuck out already. so i’m (mostly) chill now, knowing that my lofty goals will be accomplished with time and even if some never are, it will be OK.

yesterday’s not-so-big day started with a lavish breakfast prepared by Tico, featuring some of my favorite foods (plantains and avocados). then came a breezy workday when i yelled at the break room TV when the U.S. lost its World Cup match to Germany (those damn nazis!).  

Tico picked me up from work early and whisked me to a two-hour Thai spa treatment, complete with full body massage. then came a romantic dinner by the beach and walk along the pier, where we took dumb selfies and exchanged kisses as he counted down the minutes until midnight, when my cinderella day would end and he could quit playing prince (see, NOT perfect).

and when it did end, my clothes turned into rags and car turned into a pumpkin and i had to panhandle for cab fare to get home. but i kept my happy disposition through all of it, because i’m goddamn happy person nowadays.

what i want most from the coming year is nothing to change, at least not too dramatically. and if it has to change dramatically, i hope it’s only for the better. of course, i realize how original this wish is, but it’s the only one i have, this year and every year, because at 38, loud noises and sudden moves make me wet my pants.

happy birthday to me, and cheers to the best year yet (or some close approximation). 

Lots of Stuff and Things

as i am an expert in pointing out the obvious, let me begin by saying that’s it has been far too long since the last update. as always, this is partially due to laziness, but also because the summer has been busier than i expected. it’s also been far more awesome than i expected. in short, life has been a combination of sunshine, rainbow sprinkles, toes in the sand, sleeping late and unicorn rides. it’s also been a lot of hard work, sleepless nights, sore muscles and binge eating. somehow, this has all balanced out into relative bliss. this is why:


me and my city

birthday: i turned 37 in june, which effectively threw me into the “late 30s” category of easy listening music and high-fiber diets. thankfully, this birthday didn’t hurt too badly as evidenced by my lack of constant complaining, which has accompanied most of my birthdays since i hit 30. this year, i enjoyed a small party at my house with close friends the friday before my little big day before escaping to Ojai later that weekend, where i slept late, watched bad cable, took a yoga class, visited Meditation Mount and went on daily hikes with my dogs.


blissed out on a rock at Meditation Mount

the day of my actual birthday (a wednesday) had me eating a lovely steak dinner with my parents before meeting friends at my local watering hole, the Verdugo Bar, where i really felt my age by drinking too much and exclaiming, “i can’t party like i used to” at the end of the night. at least i still made it into work the next morning, which i never would have bothered with at 21. all in all, a great birthday doing things i love (drinking and relaxing) while surrounded by people i love.

Comic-Con: for the second year in a row, i attended Comic-Con, an otherworldly and exhausting experience that was amazing in every way. i went again to work the booth for GEEK, the little magazine that could, which is turning into the little magazine that is kicking ass if our rising circulation, recent offering of print subscriptions and win of three Maggie Awards are any indication.


GEEK magazine booth at Comic-Con

the most awesome thing about this year’s Con was how different it was from last year’s Con, when we had only one issue printed and were practically throwing it at people to get noticed. six issues later, people sought out the booth to say how much they loved the magazine (and no doubt pick up some sweet swag). GEEK also presented several panels this year, including the Starship Smackdown panel that closes out the Con. plus, my GEEKy colleagues are genuinely some of my favorite people in the world. with them, i spent the four days of the Con laughing, drinking, chatting, downing power bars, slamming espresso shots, barely sleeping, attending events and enjoying myself immensely. i cannot wait to do it again next year.


this guy does parties. i have his card.

note: all my photos from Comic Con 2013 can be seen on my Flickr account here. for a smaller sampling featuring the best cosplay, check out my photo essay on Grizzlybomb.com, the site run by my fellow GEEK writer/editor and good friend Brian Kronner. 


my favorite photo from the Con

my first gay wedding: i had the pleasure of attending the civil ceremony of some of my other favorite people in the world, my bestie, Jon-David, and his partner of 10 years, Cesar, at San Francisco City Hall. this was only a ceremony to solidify their status, as the actual wedding will take place next year, but it was still a magical thing to witness.


me with the newlyweds

it should go without saying that i support marriage equality 150%, and to me it’s ludicrous for gay rights to even be up for debate. i’ve always been an advocate for secular living and regard all organized religions to be laughable fairy tales that have no basis in reality or legislation. so it was especially touching to see the judge who married my friends, an elderly african-american lady, pronounce them “loving life partners” after they both said “i do.” i stood nearby, beaming, teary-eyed and incredibly thankful that i’m alive in a decade (and country) where this is possible.  


after the ceremony, a few of us went north to Calistoga for mud baths and rest. of course, we also stopped off at Bouchon Bakery in Yountville for the tastiest macarons on earth.

refinance: after five years of wanting this and three months of enduring a hellish escrow that rivaled the hellish escrow that came with purchasing my house, i refinanced my 40-year mortgage with three liens and needlessly high interest rate into a much more manageable 30-year mortgage with two liens and more agreeable interest rate.


the sheet i made for the appraiser, who appraised my house for far less than its purchase price plus the money i poured into it.

this is a game-changer for me, one that has shaved a considerable amount off my mortgage, which means i can pay off my debts faster. i’m overjoyed that this finally worked out, even though it had to involve many angry phone calls, four rate relocks (two of which i had to pay for), insane closing costs to rid myself of that third lien and the general grumpiness that comes with an escrow that feels never-ending. thankfully, it ended, turning me into a happy homeowner once more. 


family members toasting on my newly refinanced deck

half-marathon: i have officially become one of THOSE people by signing up for my first half marathon. don’t worry, i won’t be bothering anyone for money as this isn’t a fundraiser type of thing, only a vanity one. my cousin Gitella and i will complete it together this fall in Las Vegas. since signing up, i’ve surprised myself by actually training for the 13.1-mile trek, which must be completed in under four hours. this means i’ve spent plenty of time walking the three-mile track at the Rose Bowl. what’s more surprising is that the walks turned into runs (ok, an occasional light jog, but still).


en route to train with the furries

crazier yet is that i find myself actually looking forward to hitting the track lately, so i can scurry around it like an injured animal, as i mouth expletives and try to push through the pain in my shins, all for that elusive runners’ high i only read about in books. i know now that it’s very real and very cool. also cool is that i’ve been able to stuff my face full of carb-heavy food while still losing weight. i’m hoping i keep this up.

boyfriend: there should probably be much more fanfare around this announcement, but it will have to be relegated to just a bullet point. but yes, there is a boything now. no, i did not meet him on okstupid. i actually met him three years ago and dated him briefly then; he was even mentioned here a few times as the Costa Rican Cutie. but things didn’t work out, so we parted ways kindly and calmly, remaining friendly, until earlier this year when that friendship started to slide down the rabbit hole and fall into what it is now. and what it is now is pretty damn good.

i don’t want to say much more about it because 1) he isn’t thrilled with being written about on this blog; 2) if you know me in real life, or even just on Facebook, then you know about this already so it’s not big news; and 3) although i’m happy to make fun of strangers and online dating here (note: okstupid account has since been disabled), the people i keep closest to my heart i try to honor by keeping my big mouth shut about them. there’s really not much more to say beyond things are good, he is awesome and i am happy — and taking it day by day.


see? happy while frolicking on a beach. 

10 Years of The Milla Times

the original homepage

the first post, written 10 years today, read: “blah, blah, blah, testing, testing, testing.” i wrote it a few days before i traveled to London for an internship with radio newscaster the Voice of America. i was a student at USC Annenberg at the time, earning my master’s in journalism. the blog was meant to be part of a bigger website documenting my professional work (pictured above), with the name intending to be an ode to print journalism, not Miller Time. (the writing in all lowercase letters happened because i’m lazy.)

the blog also intended to fulfill a course requirement to document my experience working in London, where i would be staying for six weeks. i figured it would also be a good way to keep family and friends abreast of my time abroad as i planned to do some traveling through Europe with my then-boyfriend, Pablo, after the internship ended. we had been together about three-and-a-half years at that point.


standing on water in Amsterdam (2003)

this was in 2003, a time when blogs were spreading like STDs, as anyone who ever had a thought imagined it was a good idea to share that thought through the tubes of the internet. i was just another one of those people, though i never imagined the thought-sharing would continue for 10 years, or even one, figuring the blog would shut down soon after i returned home. but it kept propelling itself forward, driven by my enjoyment of writing and the egging on of several friends.

it probably would have ceased had it not been for some big news that was captured in my shortest blog entry ever in january 2004, titled The Big News in Six Words: “he cheated. i’m pissed. it’s over.” that kicked off an (arguably) more interesting life for me after the breakup with Pablo, which started with my graduation from USC; then chronicled my first experience with internet dating; my search for full-time employment; a short-lived relationship with my yoga instructor; getting my second dog, Pinko; falling in love with Mo; becoming a homeowner; breaking up with Mo; a big home remodel; getting published in the New York Times; my second experience with internet dating; and various vacations to destinations both domestic and abroad.

sprinkled throughout were posts detailing self-improvement, a few funerals, whining about work and money, annual posts on new year’s resolutions and my birthday, fabulous party pics and conversations with my family. all are searchable in the tags and archives in the right sidebar. to date, i’ve never deleted or rewritten a post, only corrected a few typos, though i’m sure i haven’t found them all. (if you catch a typo, email me about it. seriously.)


30th birthday (2006)

frankly, i’m stunned that i’m sitting here typing out post #476, but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i’m glad the blog happened and i have no intention of ever quitting this exercise in thought-sharing. it’s been one of the highlights of my life, precisely because it has captured so many highlights of my life. it’s better than just having a photo, as here i have not only photos but also internal snapshots of what i was thinking and feeling during those pivotal moments. being able to revisit those places has been a blessing (mostly).

it’s also been a curse, as there are too many posts that annoy the hell out of me. some i can’t read without eye rolls and hands covering my face. those are the ones in which i act like i have it all figured out, where my bravado is out of control and ego is in charge, posts that make me want to throttle myself, where i wonder, “who does this girl think she is?” i imagine i’ll be having the same thoughts in 10 years about posts i’m writing today. and that’s OK.


first photo ever taken on my deck (2008)

i sometimes get asked how i’ve become comfortable sharing so much of myself online. that’s odd for me, because i don’t think i share all that much. only about 10% of my life makes it onto this blog, with the remaining 90% lived privately. trust that there is plenty going on with me right now that i’m not telling you. and what does get shared must pass my standard test in which i ask myself, “would i share this in a room full of my friends?” affirmative answers get posted. (note that i didn’t write a room full of my closest friends, who get more information.)

of course, the internet is not known for being a friendly place, and i’ve been subject to plenty of nasty emails and comments over the years, because sharing your life online means opening yourself up to the judgment of others. that is also OK. i won’t be the type of person who goes on a reality show and then complains about how she was portrayed.

i put myself on display here. i write things that open the door for criticism. yet those same things keep me accountable to myself and others. they force me to think long and hard about them before i hit the Publish button to make sure i understand why i think the way i do. sure, i may change my mind later (and often do), with the blog post acting as a thorny reminder of how wrong i was, but that’s one of the purposes they serve. i need them to learn from, to remind me that i don’t have it all figured out, and to chronicle my evolution as a human being. 

the judgments of strangers are just the cost of doing business. nasty comments always say more about the nature of the internet and the writer than they do about me. they have no impact on my self-esteem because i’ve learned not to give them power. if you are a sensitive person, i recommend having a blog as immersion therapy. it will help you develop a thick skin quickly. the opinions of my close friends and family, however, do impact me. the handful of times i’ve disappointed anyone i care about with what i’ve written here, i’ve listened and tried to repair the damage.

i made some early mistakes about other people’s privacy here, especially when i broke up with Pablo. i was vengeful about his cheating and wrote some nasty things, which he called me on. i’ve learned from that experience and am now much more careful about what i disclose about the men in my life, for my sake and theirs.

oh, the men. no posts garner as much feedback both on and offline than the ones i’ve written about my love life. i am a pretty nosy person, too, so i understand the interest other people have about who’s getting into my pants. i’ve shared as much as i felt comfortable sharing, which is probably a lot less than the whole truth. a girl’s gotta have her secrets.

there have certainly been short-lived relationships and affairs left unchronicled, but they are not any more gripping than anyone else’s short-lived relationships and affairs. in my estimation, my walk through love has been (below?) average, with the typical assorted and sordid joys, heartaches, triumphs, foolishness, missteps, nonsense and unrequited crushes. if i’ve learned anything along the way, it’s that i don’t know anything. being single at 36 is evidence of this.


35th birthday (2011)

my own personal high/low lights of the past 10 years include:

• if there is anything i would urge all of you to read, either again or for the first time, it’s my posts on attending the Landmark Forum (read from the bottom up), an intensive, three-day, self-help seminar that i failed. i’m happy with the way i covered this experience and think the writing does a good job demonstrating my personality and writing style. the Landmark entries often come up in google searches and have generated the greatest amount of emails from strangers, who often share their own spooky experiences with me about their participation in the Forum. 

• i also receive a lot of emails about the post on Lan Vo, a psychic i once saw when i vacationed in Hawaii. similar to the Landmark emails, people share their own experiences with her. this one comes up a lot in Google hits as well.  

• the nastiest comment i ever received on a post, which was the only comment i’ve ever deleted, was on this post that discussed my grief over my ex-boyfriend’s murder. it read something to the effect of “i’m surprised you’re capable of feeling anything at all for another person, you selfish little bitch!” (related: i love the internet!) the post included his full name so it came up on google searches and it didn’t seem right for such a comment to appear alongside what was essentially my eulogy for him, as his friends were finding it. this same troll left nasty comments on other posts as well. i eventually blocked her IP address from replying to anything (only block i’ve ever made) and haven’t heard from her since.  

• about three years ago, i lost the comments from the first seven years of the blog. this happened when the comments provider (Haloscan) i used to rely on prior to enabling Blogger’s comments (which weren’t an option in 2003), went under, taking all its comments with it. if i regret anything in the past 10 years of blogging, it’s that i didn’t save those comments.

• when i first purchased my house, i submitted an essay about my decision to buy to a since-defunct LA Times real estate blog called LA Land. in short, it was a big disaster that included lots of nasty comments (since lost because of the Haloscan issue noted above). still, it was a great exercise in skin-thickening, and i’m pleased to get the last laugh as none of the commentators’ predictions that i would be in foreclosure have come to pass.

• my 10 favorite posts (in no particular order):
  
  • In Escrow, about the purchase of my house
  • Meet the Parents, about Mo’s first time at a family gathering
  • Of Fasts, Pasts and Funerals, about the legendary Kravitz sisters in my family
  • Out with a Whimper, first breakup with Mo which used to have the most comments of any post i’ve ever written (again lost in the Haloscan debacle)
  • You Might Want to Sit Down for This, about my dad’s heart surgery
  • Let’s Get Physical, about a “boyfriend” i had for a short while
  • Let Me Count the Ways, about my love of July
  • I Made It Through the Wilderness, about attending a Madonna concert
  • Me and Modern Love, about that New York Times thing i can’t stop talking about
  • Life’s Little Cruelties, wherein i complain about first-world problems

• i once had my biggest blog fan show up on my doorstep, which sounds way creepier than it actually ended up being. (hi, Juanus in Nebraska!) i think i looked at him as curiously as he looked at me, puzzled to why anyone who didn’t know me personally would read this thing. of course, i’m grateful that there are a few who do, though my web metrics show that most of you are my friends and family in California. yet i also see that i have a regular reader in Chelmsford, Massachusetts, and one who works for Saba Software in Redwood City. just know that i’m watching you watching me. not creepy at all, Internet. 

finally, a million thanks to you, dear reader, whoever you be and wherever you are. i couldn’t do this without you. actually, i could but it’s funner because you’re a part of it. special shoutouts to my parents, who’ve allowed me to repost our conversations here at their expense; Mo the architect, who’s reading this in Seattle and was always supportive of my writing, sometimes at his expense; my friends on Facebook, where most of the comments in response to blog posts now appear, making it look like i have no readers whatsoever here; my Haiku Wednesdays family; blogger Heather Armstrong of Dooce.com, who’s been a great inspiration; and, of course, the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism, which made this all possible.

i raise my glass to the next 10 years. i hope you will remain a part of them.

original About Me section (click to enlarge)

36

this birthday seemed to creep up on me, linger for a minute and then whiz right by. it occurred during a whirlwind week where so much other stuff was happening that it became just another thing to check off the list. “turn 36,” the agenda item would have read. so i turned 36 on june 26, right on schedule, another deadline met. 

it fell on a tuesday this year, which i spent away from work and at the korean spa getting scrubbed, rubbed and pampered. the evening was spent with my parents who bought me dinner and gave me a gift card. the next day i returned to work and to new deadlines. a party at my local bar followed that friday, where friends came to watch me get sloshed and meet my parents, who were the real stars that night. on saturday, i was at a dodgers game with my pops, talking to him about the next 36 years.

overall, it was a very good birthday that topped off a very good year of a very good life. this is something i will remind myself of this every time the mood to be melancholy tugs at me, which it often does. i blame all those years of being a teenage goth. if i could just go back to tell her how much better life would be at 36, how she could be happy by choice instead of consumed by a “depth” she thought was impenetrable and unique. not that it would have mattered when her middle finger was waving in front of my face. 

now that finger rests idle at my side, replaced by a smile. it’s been a good fucking year, ending on a good fucking note as something i have written will soon be published in The New York Times. (more on that in a future post.) 

it’s been a year of hard work and dedication, a year of an endless home remodel that still has no end in sight. it’s been a year of family and good friends who are like family. it’s been a year of up all night and hikes in the fresh air, of getting rowdy and sitting quietly while watching the horizon. it’s been expensive and decadent, full of triumphs and missteps and, at times, it’s been incredibly lonely.

but above all else, it’s been a year when i finally grew into my own skin and learned how to trust myself. it’s been a year when i stopped apologizing for every damn thing in my personality, when i’ve squashed those nagging self-doubts like i’m playing a game of Whac-A-Mole, when i learned how to not feel awkward in a room full of strangers. it’s been a year of razor-sharp intuition and bursts of creativity, a year when i could high-five the universe, when i could walk along my path and separate the light from the shadows.

if the last 36 have taught me anything, it’s that i have both more and less control over my life than i think. it’s still a balancing act i’m learning how to master, this art of manifesting what i want while also stepping back to make space for the divine surprises. my inclination is to take over every situation. letting go is still so hard for me. but my faith is strengthening and all this LA asshole mumbo jumbo i’ve been incorporating into my life these past few years has helped me grow as much as it’s humbled me. through it, i’ve found a religion of sorts, the “everything’s gonna be ok” religion where everything really does happen for a reason. 

sure, it’s a cliche, one i’ve rolled my eyes at numerous times as a teenage goth and probably last year, too, but simplicity makes sense to me now. nature is simple, emotion is simple, and life can also be simple if i stop resisting. that’s the goal for next year (and every year): to live simply, fearlessly, ethically, honestly and with my whole heart. 

35th Birthday

the 14th time i turned 21: was just like the last 14, or so it seemed. i don’t remember too much about that night beyond the fact that there were friends and alcohol all around me. but unlike the first time i turned 21, i wasn’t in vegas with my head in a toilet. i was at a local bar drinking top-shelf vodka with a raised pinky. however, as this photo demonstrates, i will still clearly acting like a fool.

the friends, they came! and kept my smile wide and my class full all night. not that i made it easy for them with my nonstop guzzling. from left: Cassie, Anna, Thurman, a still (somewhat) sober me, and Mike.



more friends! Justin, Ann, Raidis and Deo also showed up to brighten my night and freshen my glass. this year’s party was held at Verdugo Bar instead of my or Raidis’ house simply because it was more convenient for me. and that made cleanup very convenient by making it nonexistent. i also didn’t have to worry about annoying my neighbors or if everyone knew where the drinks were. overall, a very good call — one i should have made many parties ago.



when worlds collide: my two studliest friends, Thurman and Phillip, who had interacted with each other only through my Facebook page, met in person. it was a sight to behold, sealed with a bro hug. after, a glass was raised, a toast was said and many jokes followed.

my Felipe: we are likethis, hanging out all the time in my kitchen, cooking up vegan food and hatching plans for world domination. we’re practically married as we don’t have sex, instead spending our time watching bad movies and talking about how we could make a better one. (unfortunately, the person i do have sex with, the costa rican cutie, had to be out of town for work the weekend of my birthday, though he sent me a nice bouquet of flowers in his place.)    



21 forever! it’s my party and i’ll get sloshed if i want to. thankfully, i had the very beautiful Grace nearby to keep me upright.

group hug: Elliot, Juan, Christine and Cerreah make withstanding a bright flash in the face look easy.



then i took a bite of her face: Polly and her man Ron (whom she’s marrying this month!) arrived late enough to witness me at my finest. she was also kind enough to keep me upright even as i tried my hardest to drag her down by throwing my monkey arms around her — something i did repeatedly to various friends throughout the night.



happy birthday to me: but in the end, fun was had by all. (at least i think it was; i don’t really remember.) i do remember waking up the next morning without a hangover, which may seem impossible considering the evidence, but when my friends are the ones buying the drinks all night, top-shelf vodka is the only thing i’ll order. thanks, guys!



that morning: i slept in as late as possible and awoke feeling fantastico. my friends always know how to put a smile on my face, one that was widened by the 90-minute massage i treated myself to. it was sunday, june 26, my actual birthday, and i was 35 years old.



where it all began: the weekend ended with a birthday dinner, courtesy of my awesome parents, who took me to one of my favorite restaurants where they gave me some pretty jewelry and told me they were proud of me. seeing as they are the best parents in the world, i’m the one who's proud — and incredibly lucky. coupled with the best friends in the world, who kept me company the prior night, i’d say this birthday was pretty damn good.

here’s to hoping the year is even better.

35

seems like it was just yesterday that i was turning 30 and having a panic about it, and here comes 35 barreling toward me, reminding me that it could be so much worse. “wait until you turn 40,” i can hear my older friends saying, to which i reply, “ok, i’ll wait.”

of course, i know this birthday doesn’t have to be a thing unless i make it a thing, and clearly i am making it a thing. which doesn’t mean that i’m making it a bad thing. but i do rely on my birthday as a midyear checkpoint of sorts, a time when i take inventory, re-evaluate my goals, review the past year and prepare for the next one.

six months from now, i’ll be doing the same thing around the holidays, though i’ll likely add in a few laments about the cruelty of time, the solitude of winter and how i can’t stop eating all the fruitcake left around the office.

goal-wise, i think i am doing ok. not great, not horrible, but about average. long-time readers may remember a list of goals i made around my 30th birthday — and dumbly immortalized on this blog — that i intended to accomplish by 40, a list i review every year, cringing. it’s replicated below, with notes made in italics.

• have a kid! maybe even two (three tops). maybe this won’t play out completely perfectly, maybe you’ll need to visit the sperm bank when you hit your “scary age” but have a kid at some point, even if it’s just one, because from the outside, parenthood looks interesting, exhausting, otherworldly and definitely worth knowing.
  let’s jump directly to the heavy stuff, eh? yeah, this one is tough because, halfway through my thirties, i’ve never felt further from this goal. parenthood is still very much something i want to experience, and intend to, but the hows and whens of this are still a mystery. thankfully, i’m not quite near the point of panic yet, despite my “advanced maternal age,” so i’ll continue to save this for later.

• don’t get married just to have a kid or just to be married. honor the promise you made to yourself regarding marriage — that you’ll do it only if it feels absolutely right in your bones, your blood and your brain. and even then reconsider.
  still happily unmarried, so i’m doing great with this one. my dad said to me the other week, “i don’t think you’ll ever get married. but not because you can’t, but because you don’t want to.” and he’s absolutely right. of course, i could be persuaded if circumstances rearranged themselves, but i would never force it. and yes, you nosy bastards, i am still seeing the costa rican cutie, but i’m not telling the internet anything (yet).

• write a friggin book! or two or ten. find the time and discipline and just write already. potential without action is worthless. publish or perish, bitch.
  shut up, slut! i’m working on it. sort of. ok, not really. fuck, i need to get on this. thanks for making me hate myself. but i know i’ll hate myself even more if i never really try to make it as a writer. to this end, i have enrolled in writing classes this year, which i’m hoping will force me to finally put the internet away so i can tackle the blank page.

• quit being negative. we’ve gone over this before.
  yes, we have and i’m sooooo much better. all that meditation mumbo jumbo has really turned me into a pollyannish LA asshole. my moods and restlessness are much more manageable now. and on those rare instances when i do feel them running away from me, there’s always cheesecake.

• recognize that everything that’s happened up to this moment, whether good or bad, is not as important as what happens after this moment. remind yourself every day that the past does not have to impact the future.
  yep, yep, yep.

• get better at buying your own bullshit if you expect other people to.
  this is lousy advice that will be removed from this list. there should be no bullshit being bought and sold, because belief in myself should not be based on bullshit. it should be based on self-delusion.

• buy some property. g-d ain’t making any more real estate. and then sell the property. paper equity is not as good as money in the bank.
  hurray for homeownership, though i’m not selling anytime soon.

• dogs. have more.
  as this was written in pre-Pinko days, i’d say i’m on track with this one. and i don’t doubt there will be more dogs in my future.

• all that adult shit that your pops has been telling you about for years — saving for retirement, insuring everything, maintaining good credit — subscribe to it. also, eradicate all student debt by 40.
  adult shit is in really good shape, with special thanks owed to that day jobby in finance i’ve been working at for the past six years. my credit is solid, my retirement is being saved for, and my debts are being eradicated (as long as we don’t count all that new home remodel debt i’m about to accrue).

• prepare for deaths in the family. you aren’t the only one who’s aging.
  ok, but we don’t need to talk about that now.

• don’t bother with people you don’t care for, tasks you don’t need to do and situations you’d rather not be in. you have the freedom to politely excuse yourself from all of them. up until you have that kid, your greatest obligation is to yourself.
  that is some solid, selfish advice. fuck ‘em all and get me a table for one!

my birthday weekend was nothing short of fucking awesome this year. i spent the days leading up to the annual party at the salon getting a haircut, facial and pedi. i did some shopping, met good friends for brunch and then enjoyed a rocking good time at a local bar where i didn’t have to clean up the mess the next day. and on the sunday of my actual birthday, i slept away my hangover, enjoyed a 90-minute afternoon massage and was taken to dinner by my parents. it was picture perfect in every way. photos to come.

34: The Party

cancers rule: because my house is still not ready to receive an influx of guests, the annual birthday party this year was (again) a joint venture held at Raidis’ house and featured a star-studded cast of friends who helped us celebrate our big day in style.


the style: i bought a red dress for the occasion — new shoes, too! — had my makeup professionally done by a kind neighbor and endured this hair treatment called the Brazilian Blowout, which is basically a relaxer for white girls that should make my hair appear freshly flat ironed for three months. in short, i spent way too much money for one night and only regret that i didn’t take my hooker look to the streets to make some of it back. oh well, drinking with Raquel was much funner.


more drinking: Nick and Chad are pretty fly for white guys.


the eating: in case you don’t already know, i’m slightly obsessed with bacon and actually missed a bacon-themed party my friends Michelle and Kevin were throwing on the same day because of my stupid birthday. a dozen bacon-maple doughnuts from Nickel Diner helped me (and Cerreah) grieve.


the twins! i’m not suggesting that all black people look alike, but these two really do. in addition, Phillip and Polly both have names that start with the letter P. coincidence? or just a coincidence? you be the judge.


cute couple alert: newlyweds Damien and Kelly are sort of perfect together.


another cute couple: Wade and Courtney are also newlyweds who met at a party i threw many years ago. i suppose this makes me a jewish matchmaker of sorts.


all the single ladies: Fellas: Grace is also single — and clearly stunning.


the magic chicken: in addition to my bacon obsession, i’m also enamored with a tiny plastic chicken that promises to make all my dreams come true. it works in the same way that a genie does, except that i can ask for more than three wishes. in truth, it works more like The Secret, where you set an intention and the universe delivers.


factory farming: the magic chicken is the brainchild of my crazy friend from espain, Juan, who has spawned quite the cult following for the little bird. there is a Magic Chicken FAQ, a facebook fan page and a customer support number. and here he is inculcating Ann and Justin into the magic chicken army.


Elliot with his chicken: the bright side to my Landmark Forum experience is that i made a friend there. thankfully, Elliot is good natured enough to withstand my merciless teasing about the fact that he continues to take Landmark classes. i’m hoping the magic chicken cult can lure him away.


c/o ’94, represent: i am one of those weird ones who still keeps in touch with her high school friends, mainly because they are fucking awesome. from left to right: Raidis, Marina, Anna, Sergio, Cassie, Mike, Valerie, Suzanne, Cintia, Chris, Nicole.


Sergio, Cassie, Deo: more high school friends doing what we’ve always done, 16 years later. ok, that suddenly sounds very sad. i swear i’ve made friends since high school.


here are some now: Felicita and Bumni ham it up.


there’s only one: the crazy espaniard himself, the chicken pusher, lovely Landmarkian, Keshot founder and long-time friend of mine, Juan Juan Juan, whom i love love love.


another love: have i mentioned how much i love my Ann?


and yet another: and also my Marina?


ok, one more: and Polly too? in addition to a few notable others, some of whom were pictured already — Raidis, Zee, Sharon, Grace, Zahra, Courtney — these girls comprise my life support system.


after midnight: i felt the love flowing all night, sometimes even overflowing, particularly when i slipped into my bacon shirt and was eaten alive by my friends.


what’s that over there!? with a little redirecting to the red velvet cupcakes, i managed to escape unharmed so i could ride out one of the best birthday parties i’ve had in ages. thanks to all who showed and made the first day of my life as a 34-year-old fabulous.

34

well, hello there. how are you? i am fine, thanks for asking. did i mention it was my birthday recently? i turned 34, which is one of those weird interstitial ages, the bookend of the coveted 18-34 demographic. i suppose i have one year left to be trendy and watch MTV. after then, it’s sensible shoes and VH1.

this birthday sort of snuck up on me, but i’m glad it did. it’s like a cab that arrived just at the moment i needed a ride from one part of town to the other, from one chapter to the next. it’s a fresh start, all new beginnings and seasons changing and tides turning.

except that i don’t really feel a year older this year. so far, 34 has felt a lot like 33, which felt a lot like 32. the years have begun to blend into one another, and i often find myself having to think hard every time someone asks me my age.

the worse part about aging is still the aging part, with my metabolism slowing, wrinkles deepening and gravity winning every battle. each day, i can see my genetics at work, determined to give me the same bunions my grandma had, the same droopy eyelids my mother has. the gray hairs have become relentless. i tire easily. my back aches constantly.

the best part is all that wisdom shit i’ve heard people talk about for years. i’m finally starting to get it. i’m finally starting to get comfortable with the world as it is and my place in it. i don’t sweat the small stuff anymore. i trust my own instincts. i know the areas i need to work on and i know which ones i don’t. i feel clear-headed, driven and in control, secure in the knowledge that i’ll land on my feet because i have to and that life will take care of everything in the same way it always has.

as in years past, this year’s birthday saw a fabulous party held at my friend Raidis’ house, whose own birthday is two days after mine. the party was damn near perfect, with great friends having a great time (photo essay forthcoming). i felt loved and deliriously happy.

this should be a good year.

The 12th Time I Turned 21

birthday, bitches! i’m a little late on this, but my 33rd birthday came and went recently, leaving me a year older, none the wiser and a little more wrinkly. this may come as a shocker, but this is the oldest i’ve ever been and what’s more shocking is that i’m OK with it.


birthday breakfast: the morning of my birthday, Mo asked what i wanted to eat, saying he would make it for me. in true toddler fashion i yelled, “i want birthday cake for breakfast!” so he whipped up some french toast and drenched it in syrup and strawberry preserves. and with a candle and birthday song, my big day was underway.


what i came home to: the big day, which fell on a friday this year, was spent off of work and out of the house, indulging in whatever decadence my aging heart desired. this meant a steam room visit, hour-long massage and shopping spree in which i bought many cute tops. when i came home, dinner was on the table.


Chef Mo: i’ve always dreamed of having a personal chef and Mo made it happen this year by gifting me his kitchen skills for the day, which produced impressive food that tasted even better than it looked.


the starter: we began with some lovely cold cream of avocado soup that, surprisingly, tasted nothing like guacamole and more like delicious.


the main event: then came the red snapper fillet, which was dusted with cajun seasonings for a little kick, served over brabant potatoes, also kicky.


more cake! dessert was Mo’s mom’s amazing rice fritters recipe, deep fried and sprinkled with sugar, which made for one fat and happy birthday girl.


time for refuel: after dinner, i desperately needed to nap, but Mo and i had a party to go to, so we down some red bull and brought out the tequila.


not really: as a russian, i prefer vodka to tequila, so Raidis had to do my shot for me, which she perfected many times over. she also had to host our combined annual birthday party, as my house still isn’t ready for primetime.


we’re not pregnant: we’re just hiding rice fritters under our tops.


however, Ali is pregnant: and here’s Deo kindly providing her unborn child an initiation into the life he can look forward to living. lucky kid.


kitchen antics: Jessica, Juan and Joe confirm that the alcohol was in the kitchen.


meanwhile: people with drinks also made it outdoors, where they laughed and socialized and had a good time that didn’t result in the police showing up.


no, my forehead! Zee is under the mistaken impression that her forehead is too imposing, to which i say, “tyra.”


another one: apparently, Marina does not like her profile, to which i say, “oprah.”


this is how you do it: Raidis and Cassie, who hadn’t seen each other for many years, provided the miles of smiles.


Buck and Ann also ham: there are a few more party photos here.


the sexy chef and i: we stayed at the party far too late, wrapping up the night after 3am before heading home and collapsing into bed with a belly full of rice fritters. in short, a delicious day in every way.