i wish i could claim that i’ve been busy curing cancer or making plans to attend a royal wedding, but that’s not why i’ve been such a slacker about blogging lately. the truth is that i’ve been taking secret meetings with the illuminati, who have been reviewing my manifesto on how to bring about world peace (they rejected it). i’ve also been occupied with several other Very Important Things, some of which are outlined below:
fitness: wow, did i just write that? more to the point, did i really just attend that kickboxing class? and did i also just start a weekly hiking group? i guess i did, which must mean that i really need to lose some weight and, i suppose, that i’m (finally) starting to take better care of my health. though it turns me into a horribly sweaty mess — and i generally hate sweating — the exercise has also helped me sleep better at night and feel better during the day. i think i’ll stick with it.
the high life: i know i should probably be demure and somewhat embarrassed by the confession that i’ve been privy to some sweet corporate schwag recently, but the truth is that i loved every second of it. the truth is that i had an awesome time watching a dodger game from box seats off of third base and near the dodger dugout (hello, Matt Kemp!), courtesy of my boss’ boss. i also had an awesome time at the company-sponsored trip to the clubhouse at santa anita race track, where i sat comfortably after binging on a free buffet, drink in hand, and watched horse races. unfortunately, all of the horses i bet on lost. i’ve requested that they be sent to the glue factory immediately.
speaking of meat: the meatlessness has ceased. i went about six weeks of living on a purely pescatarian diet, save a bite or two of friends’ meaty meals, before i caved and had a steak. it was the best steak of my life. i was literally drooling before i ate it and then could not shovel it into my mouth fast enough. since then i’ve been eating bacon, sausage and more steak like it’s going out of style. i know it’s murder, but it tastes too good to be that wrong. i think i’ll stick with it, too.
the lake show: the highlight of this week is seeing my beloved los angeles lakers play their last game of the season, against the san antonio spurs, at staples center. i’m taking my superstar pops to the game for his birthday, just like i did for his 60th birthday a few years back. i’m extremely excited about this as 1) we have killer seats; 2) we’re having a banging dinner beforehand at a fancy restaurant downtown; and 3) i love my pops! (i love my moms, too!) i expect nothing less than an absolutely awesome time.
the OG: Juice will be 9 years old this year. this blows me away. i’ve had her since she was six weeks old, a time when i used to carry her around in my purse. she weighs 70 pounds now. it’s not an exaggeration to say she’s a stunning dog in every way. no one ever fails to comment on her beauty, to ask what her breed is (shepherd mutt), to notice how soft her fur is, how sweet her demeanor is and how she seems so much younger than her nine years.
i took this for granted, i suppose, figuring she would stay perfect until time immemorial. but then a tumor popped up on her head. i tried to ignore it at first, thinking it was some temporary swelling, maybe a bumpy bite that would go away on its own. i took her to the vet, who said there was no cause for alarm unless the tumor grew.
it grew: and began colliding with my hand every time i pet Juice’s head, reminding me of her age. around that time, Juice also began having accidents, usually when she was stretched out and relaxed, her bladder emptying itself on the floor, the dog bed, sometimes the couch — also reminding me of her age.
i took her back to the vet, where lab results revealed that she had “crystals in her urine,” which could lead to bladder stones, which could lead to surgery. a special diet was required in the form of costly prescription dog food. Juice hated it, and Juice (like me) hates no food, eating pretty much anything that is put in front of her. but here she was skipping meals and lumbering around the house with sad eyes during feedings. this lasted three months, a time when Juice seemed nothing short of miserable, which made me miserable. and yet the crystals weren’t eliminated entirely, only reduced, making me wonder whether there was a better way.
the better way: it came my way during a facial, performed by my awesome facialist Anna, who mentioned that she cooked for her dogs every day. i told her my issues with Juice’s health and she suggested i mix some human-grade kibble with carrots, rice, parsley and flax seed oil. so i did. Juice loved it. even Pinko loved it and Pinko is a picky eater. suddenly, a new doggy diet was born.
months passed: and the diet evolved, so much so that the kibble was eliminated entirely. now they’ll eat almost any vegetable i throw into their bowl. in the photo above, there are carrots, rice, shredded zucchini, cauliflower, butternut squash and sardine oil. and just this week i started adding boiled gizzards to their meals (they are over the moon with that one). meanwhile, i’m eating frozen pizzas from Trader Joe’s.
the new G: Pinko just turned four years old. this also blows me away. we’ve come such a long way when i first got her in 2007 as a birthday gift for Juice. she was a challenging dog then, still is in many ways. she came to me with major food aggression issues that were a bear to work around. but we kept working and she kept improving and i think i did, too, with her teaching me patience, dedication and unconditional acceptance. the last one was the hardest lesson for me to learn, as i was convinced i could turn this new Deuce into my perfect Juice.
no such luck: she was resolute in her Pinko-ness: a charm of extremes that waffles between sassy defiance and insecure neediness. the dog is constantly howling, herding, jumping and inserting herself wherever she wants to be, which is usually right in the middle of where she shouldn’t be.
and then the ears go down and she breaks the sweetness meter with her affection and need for love. she frightens easily and always ends up burrowing into various body parts (from legs to armpit) for safety, where she will hide her whole head until she feels reassured. then she’ll perk up, sass up and steal a toy from Juice’s mouth.
dog fusion: these dogs could not be more different. i always call Juice the “gateway dog,” as she will turn non-dog-lovers into fans with her effortless charm and easygoing nature. but Cheddar (Pinko’s other, more common name now) is more of an acquired taste. she’s the funny one full of personality — the class clown who sort of annoys you at first, but ultimately wins you over with her heart of gold. to know her is to love her. it can take some effort, but the rewards are divine.
partners in crime: despite their differences, these two make awesome companions for each other, breaking out in spontaneous play constantly. they’ll wrestle, engage in a little tug-of-war, compete for food and attention, pee on the same spots and then snuggle through the night. they are inseparable and love each other first above all else, even above me, which i’ve grown OK with (sort of).
back to the OG: her health is good again. the new diet did much to help her budding bladder stones and crystallized urine. she has stopped wetting herself and seems more joyful and energized. i also had her undergo a local anesthetic to have the tumor on her head removed, which left her physically flawless once again. i’m sure she’ll live forever now.
bonus shot: the costa rican cutie and i took a drive up the 5 freeway for a snow day with the pups, where this awesome shot was taken. Juice LOVED the snow and wanted me to spend all my time lobbing snowballs into her mouth. naturally, i obliged.
because meditation, yoga and a meatless february haven’t rendered me boring enough, i figured that adding a little acupuncture to my life would be just the thing needed to complete my transformation into a humorless hippie. soon, i’m sure i’ll be living in an ashram in Big Sur, where i will eat twigs and be known by the name of Fairy Dust. (or maybe Farty Dust given the amount of vegetables i’ve been eating lately.)
the acupuncture was really a whim, initiated only because a new martial arts/chinese medicine center opened in my area and offered a discounted session for first-timers. i hadn’t thought too much about acupuncture before, only heard (mostly good) things about it from various friends who’ve indulged. i didn’t even have a specific health problem i needed to resolve.
i was simply curious, so i went in and met with the nice white doctor specializing in chinese medicine, who asked me a slew of questions far more detailed than any western doctor has ever asked me. we spent nearly an hour talking about things like my sleep patterns and skin, my periods and stress levels, my diet and family medical history. there was some talk of yin and yang, chi and heat. he looked at my tongue (yellowish coat in the back, not good) and took my pulse in four different places (kidney pulse very weak).
when he asked what i hoped the acupuncture would achieve, like any self-respecting, body-conscious woman in los angeles, i said i wanted to lose weight by speeding up my metabolism, which has slowed to a snail’s crawl since i hit my thirties. i also told him i wanted more energy, more balance, more youthful vigor and general zen-ness-ness.
with that, i got on the massage table and prepared for the needling. in general, i’m ok with needles as long as i don’t see them pierce my skin, so i kept my eyes closed for the whole affair. he started by putting a little alcohol on the spots where the needles would go — eight on my lower legs and feet, one in my belly, four in my forearms and one at the top of my head. except for the needles in my belly and head, the placements were symmetrical, so if my left wrist got a needle, my right wrist would too.
i didn’t feel too much pain beyond a little pinch when the needle was inserted and then twisted slightly to deepen its reach. placing the needles took only a few minutes. the doc left me alone for about 20 minutes after he was done, a time when i felt very little occurring in my body beyond a general swirling and swooshing of energy. it’s hard to describe because the sensation was so subtle, almost imperceptible, but something was definitely happening. mostly, i felt very, very relaxed — with any tension i was carrying in my body fleeing from me like cockroaches in the light.
the bliss continued after the doc came to take the needles out (totally painless) and even after i paid for the session (sixty bucks). the feeling was heavenly and glorious, similar to one i’d get after emerging from a two-hour massage at the day spa, not a half-hour interlude of being stabbed with needles. everything was amazing — i felt calm and clear, like a mistress of zen (“radiant” is the word the doc used to describe the dumb look on my face). i was so ridiculously joyful, in fact, that i bought a discounted 10-pack of sessions on the spot. the doc could have asked to see a boob or borrow my car and i probably would have obliged. i was feeling that good.
three sessions later and i’m still feeling mighty good. i realize it could all be psychosomatic, but an artificial high is still a high, so i’ll take it. i’ve also had more energy, better sleep and a generally pleasant disposition — a stark contrast to my usually cynical self. (am i an LA asshole yet? is it time to be taken to the back of the barn and shot? just let me know.)
my appetite has been ravenous so i think my metabolism has indeed sped up. now if i could just stop overeating to compensate, i think i would lose some weight. thankfully, the meatlessness has shaved a few pounds off already, and my body has felt so lovely that i decided to extend the nonsense into march. this makes two whole months of no meat, which is a record for me. though i can’t claim that i’m not dying for a steak cooked medium rare and topped with a gorgonzola sauce, i know that i’m not dying without one (despite thinking about it nonstop for the past 31 days).
and while i don’t think i’ve sworn off eating dead animals forever, i have inched closer toward the healthier lifestyle i’ve always envisioned myself leading — one that’s kinder and gentler, cleaner and leaner. hopefully, i can go meatless for a whole three months next year, which would be a personal miracle for me. i think all ashrams are vegetarian anyway, so it makes sense to get ready for it now. in the meantime, i’ll keep acupuncturing, keep meditating and will take the steps i need to take to officially change my name to Fairy Dust.
yeah, baby. cue the sexy music. it’s the update on my romantic life, an update you have surely been breathlessly awaiting, you voyeuristic pervert. but before you bring out the box of tissues to shed a tear or do whatever else you might need tissues for, pause the sexy music and put your binoculars away because i’m not revealing much.
truthfully, there isn’t much to reveal. i am still single — and happily so. the worst of my breakup is decidedly behind me and i’m finally beginning to feel like my old self again, the self i’ve always known myself to be. that self enjoys answering to no one and relishing in the freedom that has always suited me so well.
and now that i’m living alone again, among my two furries, in my own house, where i get to hog the bed and take comfort in the fact that every item is exactly where i want it to be, the thought of entering another serious relationship soon is as inviting as a cold sore.
that’s not to say there aren’t many things i miss about being partnered, and i don’t doubt that i’ll find myself in another serious relationship eventually, but until then, my plan is to focus squarely on myself and do the things i always tell my single girlfriends to do when they find themselves delightfully unattached.
so far, i’ve been doing just that: spending plenty of time with myself, my friends and my dogs as i exercise, shop, socialize, read, write, loiter, lounge, indulge in spa days and prepare leisurely meals for one at home. at times like this i can understand why people stay single forever. i’ve found myself in this rare place only a handful of times before, where my heart is neither swelling nor aching.
but i know my heart all too well. i know it’s only a matter of time before it will want to wander and climb and soar and sink until it finds a pocket to burrow into. and i’ll allow that — eventually — but for now it will remain grounded, relegated to stay locked up home while i go out and... date.
yes, i’ve begun dating again, whatever that means. it doesn’t mean going out on a lot of bad dates with a lot of strangers as i refuse to dabble in the online personals this time. in fact, i’ve gone on very few dates so far, choosing instead to spend my time with one costa rican cutie. but that’s not a story for today.
today’s story involves the general weirdness that comes with dating at 34, which, i will admit, is far easier than dating at 24, when i would agonize over an unreturned phone call. as a single 34-year-old, however, there is far less agony and far more perspective. i keep my expectations tempered and my outlook realistic, which protects me from becoming too disappointed when things don’t turn out perfectly.
i’m sure that sounds cynical, but it’s actually been very liberating. it’s allowed me to appreciate good times as just that — good times to be cherished. bad times are also just that — brief and fleeting moments that are in no way indicative of times to come. thankfully, i’ve had more good than bad times in recent months, and i’m sure this has something to do with my rosy outlook that doesn’t take anything too seriously.
the last time i felt this footloose and fancy-free (in 2004!), i was dating multiple men without a second thought or feeling. (old-schoolers might remember the “harem.”) and while i don’t have the time, energy or interest in reverting back to those old ways, i have found that a few long dormant habits have reawakened themselves in recent months, particularly my guy-like superficiality that draws me to looks over substance, that keeps me unwilling to commit and uncomfortable with heavy emotions. i’ve also begun to hear things i’ve heard too many times before — that i’m bitchy and hard to get close to, that i act as though i need no one. “self-possessed” is a common refrain as is “control issues.”
i wish i had a defense for this beyond “i don’t know how to be any other way,” but i don’t. all i can say is that i’m working on it (sort of). more to the point, i’m keeping the faith that things will work themselves out as they are supposed to, that i’ll eventually encounter someone who will ruin my life by making himself indispensable to it, offering a space for my heart to burrow, where it will stay and do the things it was built to do.
but until then i’ll continue to enjoy the lightness of being, which isn’t so unbearable.
when i haven’t been freakishly blissful and appreciating the moment, i have been thinking a lot about The Future. most of my thoughts about This Future are centered on goals i’d like to achieve and poorly formed plans about how to best achieve them.
sometimes the goals are as nebulous and far-fetched as the plans, with many trains of thought leading into a daydream about winning the lottery. other times, they come in a clear and vibrant vision, something akin to a lucid dream where i can push aside obstacles and shatter world records with the flick of a wrist. then, just as johnny depp is about to leave his supermodel wife for me, i wake up.
the most challenging thing about being lost in the fantasyland that is my head is making the leap from thought to action. so far, that hasn’t been going very well. i’ve told myself that this was because january was my "ramp-up month" when i could putz around without purpose, playing with ideas. but now that february has arrived, signifying a year already in full swing, the party in my head has to be broken up by the cops, none of whom resemble johnny depp unfortunately.
to help jump-start (find?) my motivation for Getting Things Done, i’ve decided to resurrect Meatless February, an annual event i initiated last year to great success. a lovely side effect of that meatless month was an increase in energy, clarity and focus — all of which i could benefit from right about now.
i also intend to take a few classes this year, maybe even join a few clubs. sadly, all the pounds of flesh i’ve been consuming in preparation for the meatless month have fogged up my brain so much that i can’t remember what classes or clubs i’m referring to, but i know that there are some on the horizon.
my other big plans all involve the house, which always involves money, some of which i hope to amass during the upcoming bonus season at work and tax season at home. but before those checks clear, i need to lay some foundation in the form of pulling permits from the city, meaning my meditation practice will soon go into overdrive. serenity now, bitches.
beyond that, i’m really looking forward to the summer, probably for the first time in my adult life. i’m stunned by this as i generally love LA’s mild winters, but i find myself itching for more daylight, which i hope to use for accomplishing the many things that have been swirling in my head.
i need to hustle because the year will pash in a flash and, before i know it, next winter will set in and bathe the year in moonlight, making me feel as though i did nothing with my time at all.
i know how terribly interesting this must be to read: a blog post about how i don’t feel like blogging lately. writing about writing is the very definition of uninspired writing — it’s interesting only to other writers but only barely since it’s not very interesting at all. far more interesting are well-written stories about a riveting, enviable life, which is why i’d understand if you stopped reading this entry immediately to search for a blog that characterized such a life.
nowadays, there isn’t too much going on with me, which is probably why i’ve been reluctant to sit down and commit some words to the screen. there’s simply nothing to commemorate. all that meditation mumbo jumbo has turned me into a stable bore. any flux that enters my life passes through like a gentle breeze. there are no tornadoes. i like my friends and my parents. my job is stable, my dogs are healthy, and my house is cozy.
perhaps that’s the news of the day: i’m happy. for the first time in a long time, i feel genuinely content, stable and optimistic. i like how things are and i like that i have a say in where they are going. no singular emotion is crowding me right now and putting me at its mercy. i’m not depressed, worried or anxious. i don’t feel so heartsick anymore. i wouldn’t say i’m overjoyed with every aspect of my life, as there is much to be desired and improved upon, but i’m not obsessing over those details right now.
that’s not to say i won’t obsess over them again (as i’m prone to), or that something won’t suddenly surface to thwart the good vibrations that have been reverberating for many weeks now. in fact, i’m sure that something will, which is why i’ll take comfort in this small victory — where i can sit contently and type out an otherwise boring blog entry while listening to my dogs snore nearby. somehow, today, that’s enough for me.
(but if i begin to sound too much like an LA asshole who spouts off daily affirmations, please kick my ass.)
howdy, 2011 — welcome to the world! nine days in, you’re already kicking ass and taking names. let’s hope your happy momentum stays and builds to a brilliant crescendo that lasts through the entire year. so far, everything you have touched has been infused with good vibrations, and not just for this month but for the past few weeks, a time in which a few notable things happened:
holidaze: this last season was particularly lovely, as i managed to squeeze in the watching of several movies, the seeing of several friends and the laziness of several days spent lounging without purpose. i’m sure there’s a more eloquent way to put this, but in short: i had a lot of fun.
work: perhaps weirdly, among all this fun and laziness was quite a bit of work. in the last week of the year, i scored two freelance assignments with new clients, and in the first week of the year, two more came. if this is any indication of how the rest of the year will fare, work-wise, i see some fruitful months in my future — and hopefully some home improvements.
home: the big news here is that i am living alone again, as Wendy moved into her own apartment at the start of this month. she had long intended to bring her dog to LA from Texas, and i didn’t think my two bitches would be receptive to a third bitch in the house — fifth bitch if you count Wendy and i — so, alas, our six-month domestic partnership had to come to an end (though the friendship will live on in perpetuity). currently, i have no plans to get another roommate but we’ll see how the year goes.
writing: clearly, i’ve been bad with this but i have not forgotten my resolution to get better about writing here and elsewhere, so please hold me to it, internet. to this end, i’ve begun planning my inaugural writing holiday, which will be spent in the florida keys at my sister’s vacation home this spring. there, i will write many words that will form many sentences that will make the whole world sing.
om shanti: in keeping with my other new year’s resolution to “meditate and shit,” i’m happy to report that i’ve hit up the meditation center by my house a whopping TWO times since the year began. both times it’s been to attend the free public sitting sessions where folks can walk in and sit silently with others who are meditating, which has made the process of clearing my mind much easier to do — as i can ride the tailcoats of people who’ve already done it. (leave it to me to find a shortcut to enlightenment.)
beyond that, i’m generally in love with 2011. and now that i’ve immortalized this on the interwebs, the once benevolent gods will surely turn cruel and make my life shitty.
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