Thanks, 2014

lounging in Hawaii in November

i realize it's more popular to hate on a departing year than love it -- and 2014 was mighty ugly on a global scale with its ebola scare, police brutality, missing airplanes, midterm elections and scary religious fundamentalists -- but on a personal level, it was about 8 different types of AWESOME. so i'd like to take this time to give it a warm hug, sloppy kiss, bag of chips and playful smack on the ass as it makes its way out of the front door to join the ranks of other years most people would rather forget.

as cliche as it sounds, for me this year felt like the first chapter of a new book about the rest of my life. it's the type of book i never thought would be written for me, as it involves marriage and motherhood, two Big Life Events that i'm still surprised are going to happen. but happening they seem to be, more fast and furious now as my due date and date with a courthouse justice appear early on 2015's calendar.



visiting the rubber duck that floated into the Port of Los Angeles in August

but before i get there, i want to gaze lovingly at 2014 to acknowledge it as that pivotal year that has made all prior years and will make all future years look starkly different from one another. of course, central to this year has been my beloved Warren, whom i never thought i would end up with when we first met back in 2010. i still didn't think it a year or three later. so much for love at first site and other youthful delusions of romance. ours was a slow, steady burn, with a year-long interruption and then reconciliation that culminated in a pregnancy and proposal that were equal parts magical and disorienting.

though we've both engaged in our fair share of traveling separately, our recent travels together have easily been the best trips of my life. i'm not just saying this because i have to, since you know, i have to say such a thing about my fiance, but we really do make excellent travel companions. i know this was a non-negotiable check box in both our lists of Things My Life Partner Must Be.

as great as our trip to Costa Rica was in 2013, our trip to New York in January of this year was the most thoroughly magical, from start to finish. the sightseeing, socializing with new and old friends, road trip to Rhode Island, Times Square at 3am, overeating at Jewish delis, visiting the Ghost Busters firehouse, drinking hot toddies at a jazz bar at midnight, and freakish snowstorm that delayed our departure and gave us a true winter wonderland to experience -- all while holding hands, laughing and looking at each other amorously -- could have made an excellent music montage in a romantic comedy.

Warren gazing at a red and white pizza from Lombardi's; freezing my nuts off outside the Ghost Busters firehouse

then in May, we found ourselves in Japan, visiting a country and continent that were new to both of us. Japan certainly brought us a fair share of magic, but it stayed a work trip first and foremost, as we had to cover Japan Night for GEEK magazine, so we had fewer opportunities for the revelry and random adventures that made New York so special. plus, i got a horrendous case of food poisoning halfway through the trip that rendered me feverish, weak and dehydrated for several days during and after.

Warren played hero throughout the whole episode, enduring the worst of it alongside me, as he took my temperature and brought me water, soup and cold compresses through a very long night when i ran to the bathroom every 20 minutes and tossed in bed. it was around then that i began wondering whether he could be "the one" -- or, rather, hoping that he would be.



turntable battle with a robot at the Robot Restaurant

sadly, our post-Japan excitement was tempered by the news that the publisher of GEEK was pushing us off its roster in its efforts to rebrand, making the eight-page, photo-heavy spread of our trip to Japan, which Warren took photos for, an impossibility as we never published another issue. i did manage to get one article up on the GEEK website about Japanese band Man With a Mission, who played at Japan Night. but months later, the site would be redirecting visitors to the revamped publisher's new website, making all the stories published in the two years of GEEK's operations, some of them mine, vanish. a definite low point of my year.



my last piece in the last print issue of GEEK, published in May. 

we also welcomed two new furries into the family, a decision neither of us would likely replicate today with a baby on the way, but one that made a lot of sense at that time given all the tears i was shedding over my still-very-much-missed Pinko's death. the two boys did plenty to cheer me up, or at least distract me, while also providing a steady stream of mischief, destruction, puddles of piss and aggravation. nine months later, i'm happy to report that the household is (mostly) calm with the furries fully integrated. though, like in any family, the boys still drive us crazy but we put up with it because we love them.



more dogs than people

aside from my annual 4th of july fireworks viewing party on the deck, this summer's highlight was watching the World Cup with my Tico and our assorted friends of all stripes and loyalties. i yelled at the TV like a bonafide sports fan and got pregnant after a heated game like a total soccer cliche. but to my credit, i will not be naming my son after a star goalie or kicker. that unexpected surprise did much to change the course of my summer from the usual drinking and late nights to one of doctor's visits and early bedtimes as the first trimester and all its assorted anxieties ran their course.

if you told me at the start of 2014 that i would be pregnant this year, i would have laughed in your face (while secretly hoping you were right). though being a mother has been a longstanding goal of mine, it always seemed like some abstract concept to be saved for later. but given that i'm nearly 40, an alarming fact i've always been in denial about, i'm glad i'm facing it now. i'm also glad this pregnancy was a surprise and that this baby is coming at me like a torpedo without the forethought that comes with planning for a child. because if i had the chance to overthink this, i may have delayed it even further, which would have made my aging eggs even staler.



my patootie in 3D in October

the fall saw Warren officially moving in with me after unofficially living with me for over a year, an event he commemorated by building out a mancave in the garage, where much of his old furniture now resides. then came a fun-filled trip to Disneyland for his 36th birthday in September, a day he concluded by dropping into a bended knee proposal that i was not expecting despite being three months pregnant. of course, i blurted out a bumbling response that amounted to a "yes" in the least romantic way imaginable. of course, we laughed it off and, of course, we haven't done any planning for a real wedding, though a quickie shotgun wedding at the courthouse when i'm 8 months pregnant is in the works, just how i always imagined! super classy.



an appropriate metaphor for our dive into marriage and parenthood, courtesy of Splash Mountain

in October, Warren shuffled off to a month-long solo adventure in Southeast Asia, a trip he had been planning and anticipating for over a year. it took him to several countries and wildlife refuges he had always wanted to see, while allowing for Skype sessions for us to stay connected (god bless the internet). meanwhile, i took a girls trip to Hawaii with the same girlfriends i went to Italy with two years ago, where i sat on the beach, tanned my big belly, drank virgin mai tais and binged on starchy cuisine. it was HEAVEN.



overdosing on estrogen at a Hawaiin lookout in November

later in November, Warren and i were joyfully reunited and have spent the remainder of the year lounging, laughing, streaming movies, cooking for each other and whiling away the few lazy sunday mornings we have left in bed before our son turns our world upside down in march. it's been delightful to do nothing and i hope to do it as often as possible for as long as possible going into the new year.

the nothingness was interrupted by our hosting of Thanksgiving this year, which saw our families meeting for the first time, an event we were happy to see go exceptionally well, despite or perhaps because of my dad's odd, off-color jokes. then came a christmas tree in the living room, a first for this jew, though i must confess i've enjoyed its pretty lights and fresh pine scent. and lately, we've been back to the nothing, with a growing dose of motivation to finally get the nursery together.



a special ornament Warren made for our tree (miss you, sweet girl)

now as i bid 2014 a final goodbye to begin a chapter that will likely be the most transitional of my life, i feel perfectly at ease about what the future holds, a sensation i never thought i'd know. maybe it's the time, timing, finally having the right person by my side or the pregnancy hormones, but i've gotten better at enjoying the present goodness without worrying about all the elements outside of my control.

and though i know my life is far from settled, with many more chapters to be written -- chapters that will probably surprise, discourage and disappoint me -- i'm happy to live them because they are mine and every step has been a gift, even when it's felt like a punishment. or at least that's what all the zen master, self-help crap has been telling me. 

so thanks for everything, 2014, you hot, steamy, sexy, joyful animal. please send your twin brother to represent 2015 because i don't want these good times to end.

This Year So Far

hello again, blog! sorry i’ve neglected you for so long. i’m not really sure why i did. it wasn’t intentional or conscious, more accidental and needlessly cruel. but i have thought about you often. on the running to do list i keep on the dry erase board on my fridge, you’ve remained a bullet point for weeks as they stretched into months. you’ve sat quietly and patiently, never once mocking me, as i’ve bypassed you in favor of other items like “buy car seat covers,” “research patio furniture” and “call insurance company.” none of those are as fun or creative as you, yet still you got back-burnered. well, no more. we are together at last, and i promise not to abandon you again.

i have missed the way you document my life for me so nicely, allowing me to flip back through older posts fondly, and some not so fondly, as i reminisce. there has been plenty going on this year and i regret not sharing those things with you earlier. but if you will allow me to now, i’d like to catch you up on things i’ve been doing without you, so that there may now be a record of them in you. and sorry again, beautiful blog. i hope you’ll accept this love letter to you and know that we are still BFFs, just like those two halves of a heart necklace we both share confirms. also, your hair looks great today.

 
the new car: i bought it last year when i got fed up with the old car giving me endless transmission problems. (we are not buying a Volkswagen ever again, blog.) the new car is roomy, though it eats gas like a thirsty little bitch despite having only a 4-cylinder engine. it’s a 2012 Toyota RAV4, by the way. drives great and i love it so far. i bought it used from Hertz Car Sales, so it had low mileage and great maintenance records. however, as this was an unexpected purchase, i didn’t have much money to put down, so the new car payments are hefty. the old jetta, which didn’t even make it to 100K miles, was sold to some used car lot for a pittance. as i was leaving that lot, the owner asked whether i wanted to take one final photo with the car, as many people do, and i waved him away while running out of the place. i’m sure he knows why by now.  

 
the holidays: they went exceptionally well (if you don’t count my frequent tears over spending them without my beloved Pinko for the first time). i spent Christmas at Tico’s twin sister’s house, where she erected a velcro bounce house in her yard for the guests and her own set of twins (she has 6-year-old fraternal boys). there, we bounced, drank, ate, laughed and passed the time in a lovely fashion. Tico gifted me a silver bracelet, which i’m wearing right now, and i gave him a GoPro Camera, which he used to take videos of Juice. new year’s eve was spent lying in bed in his arms instead of out on the town, which i guess is characteristic of people approaching 40. no complaints whatsoever. 

 
New York City: if i were less lazy, i would write an entire blog post about this, as the trip made many epic memories for me, but i’ll just relegate it to a bullet point for now. but yes, Tico and i conquered new york city in january and it was an obnoxiously, all capped AMAZING TRIP. we also spent a night in Newport, Rhode Island, at my dear friend’s John John’s house, who we passed most of the time with while in the city as well. we made new friends, walked through central park, hit up interesting tourist and local spots, stayed up late every night, ate and drank way too much, and even got caught in one of this winter’s wild snowstorms that cancelled our flight and gave us an extra day to explore the city.  

one of my proudest moments: though i stopped short of faking an orgasm in a restaurant (my parents didn’t raise no beast!), Tico and i did re-create the When Harry Met Sally scene at the famous Katz’s Delicatessan. then we went down the street to the famous Russ & Daughters for bagels, lox, cream cheese and herring. we also had Lombardi’s pizza and visited the Ghostbusters Firehouse. i came back to LA with an extra five pounds and a renewed love for New York, where i would love to live — if i made millions of dollars.


Russian River: after New York drained our bank accounts and energy, Tico and i headed to russian river in february for a long weekend of sitting around and not doing much. we stayed at my friend Sharon’s cabin, who joined us for two nights, and spent our days visiting antique shops in town and Armstrong Woods National Reserve, which has a 1,400-year-old tree. with a recharged battery, i returned home and quickly planned another trip back to the wood for later in the year. i cannot get enough of those redwoods. they are majestic.

 
me hugging a tree like the (secret) dirty hippie i am: moving to Russian River has become one of my many escapist fantasies, and i’ve begun thinking i should buy a vacation home there like my friend has. during the drive back to LA, this daydream played out in my head like a perfect movie, not of the romantic comedy variety ‘cus those all suck, but more like some sleeper hit with wine tasting and Tuscan suns or something. anyway, i even became obsessed with scouring real estate listings on redfin.com, squealing in delight each time a cheap fixer appeared on the market. then i got a letter from the city about my own cheap fixer and the daydream quickly dissipated into the familiar breathy sighs of first-world problems. 


three weeks later: this is the current state of my concrete back yard. apparently, my next-door neighbor called the LA department of building and safety, whom i have a sordid history with, and complained about a few things affecting our property line — things that were grandfathered in with the house and that the numerous inspectors who visited my house in past few years never once mentioned to me. but now i had to fix them. so i’m fixing them and trying to be all zen about it though the truth is i want to [redacted in case i actually do go postal one day] to my neighbor. as this is my first visit to the high road, i can report back that it is a humorless and lonely place. there will be a longer blog post about the repairs coming shortly. in the meantime, i'm taking many deep, breathy sighs.


the year ahead: oh, right, it’s almost april already (sorry again, blog). yet i’m still in the throes of figuring out the rest of the year, as i have a few things i’d like to see happen. so i consulted the lava lamp at my work cubicle, which doubles as a fortune-telling apparatus, to see what’s in store for my charmed life. 

• hawaii! this is booked already and just the thought of it brings me to my happy place. i’m going with the flight attendant friends i went to Italy with two summers ago (hooray for buddy passes) and staying at my parents’ time share, so it promises to be a very cheap trip. this is the only type of trip i can take because... 

• money: after the double whammy of unexpected car purchase + home repairs, i am firmly in the broke boat. i need to get out, and i will get out, if for no other reason than to purchase my dream vacation home among the redwoods. so i’ve begun to hustle accordingly. i’m looking at renting out the garage i never use while also selling the items sitting idly in the garage to make space for someone else's car/boxes. i would make a joke about selling my body, too, but i think i would need to pay for someone to use that. insert another joke about getting old and wrinkly.

• food: i stopped eating meat so my tacos lately are veggie only. (good thing potatoes are a vegetable.) i went meatless in february and my body has thanked me with rapid weight loss, easy digestion and no more food comas. i’m still eating fish, cheese and eggs so i haven’t lost my mind completely and if a restaurant dish i want has some meat included via chicken stock or clam chowder with bacon (note: clam chowder should have bacon), i’ll eat it without reservations. this is a very fluid pescatarianism and there could be momentary lapses should i find myself in a high-quality steakhouse. so maybe it’s more meat reduction than absolute meatlessness. whatever you call it, my body feels better than before so i’m sticking with it.

• everything else: despite the urging of well-intentioned friends, i don’t see a new dog in my future this year. i could be wrong, of course, and catch sight of a puppy that makes me feel the familiar pinch of cupid’s arrow again, but as of today, i’m not ready. i also don’t see any sweeping changes with Tico and me this year. we’re doing great, approaching the year mark and still keep separate residences despite spending most of our free time together. i love him whole-heartedly, want him to remain in my life and have been feeling very good about where things are, which is why every pregnancy and marriage innuendo i’ve heard has been replied to with an eye roll as they imply that something is lacking. rest assured, it’s not. things are super. he is great. i am lucky. we are happy. sincerely. 

awwww, the shmooptie pooptie cuteness! hearts, rainbows, unicorns! 

ok, enough of that. back to work, turkeys.

The Winter Malaise

like clockwork, it happens every year. things truck along swimmingly through thanksgiving and then something wicked this way comes in december. it’s stupid and silly and i know better and  now fear it’s become more self-fulfilling prophecy than organic necessity, but off to funky town i’ll go each winter with my emotions.

the town looks a lot like the inside of my house, where i will move about shiftlessly, refusing invitations in favor of curling up with my dogs to watch movies or read, or sometimes to just lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. i’m not particularly depressed, at least not this year; it’s more of a funk that makes me not want to do much of anything or see much of anyone.

but you had such a great year, i tell myself. remember that whole new york times thing? that thrilling trip to italy? your remodeled house and healthy family and kind friends? you are luckier than most, you pathetic crybaby. get your ass out of bed and go take in the fresh air on your new deck.

i know, i know, i know.

yet still, the ghosts of christmas past come to visit. i know these visitors well. i have baked them cookies and set up cots for them so they could linger as long as they like. grabbing a broom to sweep them out won’t work. they have a job to do and it’s easier to let them do it instead of resisting. better to open the vein and let it bleed than ignore it until it ruptures.

so it’s been flowing alongside the wine, sad music and picture books in my head. they look a lot like a big river of regret. there’s heartache and loneliness, too, fueled by holidays that do plenty to highlight the obvious. and what’s obvious is that it’s cold and i’m lonely. also obvious is that i need to repair this situation so 2013 doesn’t resemble 2012 in its solitude and celibacy. this may mean joining the wild world of online dating, as many of my friends have urged.

i’m dreading it as a central part of this winter malaise is laziness. though i’m not exactly content with the State of Things, i am content to lie around and sigh heavily about them — at least for now. though i have a feeling this will change soon as January has finally arrived, dragging with it all those annoying good intentions that seem to kick off each year. i feel them beginning to stir inside me as well.

there is plenty i want to do this year, none of which involve being a pathetic crybaby. this means these days of lying around and daydreaming about a past i can’t change and a future i can’t predict will soon come to pass, forcing me to attend to what’s already looking like a very demanding January. the freelance deadlines have begun to loom. i have a leaky roof that needs fixing. these holiday pounds need to go. there are boxes in the garage to sort through. life has been waiting.

i’m almost ready. i just need another week (or two) to leave the holiday lights around the deck, lie in bed while staring at the ceiling and hug the ghosts goodbye.

Why I Hate Valentine's Day

i realize how absolutely cliché it is to say you hate valentine’s day because it’s an evil nonholiday created by Hallmark to stimulate consumerism and what about the other days of the year you should show your sweetie you love them? blah, blah. we’ve all heard it.

and while all of it may be true, it’s completely unrelated to my disdain for this evil nonholiday, which will forever be symbolic of a nuclear bomb blowing up in my chest. for several years now, i’ve spent the day feeling like a jew on christmas, minus the chinese food and trip to the movies. but the indifference to all the gifts and seemingly sacred celebrations that are attached to some religious figure whose very existence is questionable is the same. at least we get the day off for christmas.

it started in 2004, which would have gone down as The Worst Valentine’s Day Ever had it not been for valentine’s day 2010. but let’s back up to 2003, probably my last good valentine’s day. i had a boyfriend named Pablo then, whom i was with for four years — good years during which we shared four very romantic valentine’s days that included dinner, gifts and all that schmooptie pooptie stuff you do when you’re a person who doesn’t hate valentine’s day. because back then, i was an enthusiastic advocate for the day, consumerism aside and included. the flowers, chocolates, expensive meals and great wine are enough to get anyone on board.

then came january 2004, the month Pablo cheated on me, effectively ending our relationship, annihilating me emotionally and lighting the candle of what would become my burning hatred for the day. a few weeks after the breakup, my friend Zahra dragged me to a Match.com singles mixer in Hollywood. did i mention that Zahra is a former beauty queen? no joke. (i encourage you to read more about that here.) in short, it was not a fun night, only adding to my heartache and filling me with an overwhelming desire to call Pablo and ask him to ask me for another chance. thankfully, i resisted.

after that, i spent a couple years living the single vida loca before beginning another serious relationship, the one that would come to define my life in ways no other relationship has — and i mean that in the most positive way imaginable. fast forward to valentine’s day 2006, a time when my then-boyfriend Mo and i were very much in love and living together.

in an effort to reclaim valentine’s day as something i could get behind again, i got Mo a small gift for the occasion and assumed he would reciprocate even though we had never discussed what would happen (or not happen) on that day. he, assuming i was too evolved to care about such a silly little nonholiday, didn’t see what the big deal was. an argument followed, which culminated in me attempting to destroy the gift like a total, mature adult.

after the smoke cleared and tears dried, Mo and i had a very civil discussion about our outlook for valentine’s day and mutually agreed that we would no longer observe it in any way. and, wow, what a HUGE relief. no more agonizing over gifts, trying to plan the perfect evening or piling expectations onto a day that’s too often destined for disappointment. the day had been neutralized and stayed that way for a few years with nary an acknowledgement by either of us. and the truth was that i didn’t miss it one bit.

fast forward to valentine’s day 2010, the day Mo and i broke up. yes, you read that right. because if there’s anything more cliché than hating on valentine’s day, it’s breaking up — or getting engaged — on valentine’s day. and no one does clichés better than i do. being a 35-year-old single, jewish woman who wants kids should be more evidence of my mad skillz. if i had a profile on jdate, i might win the Cliché of the Year Award!

in any case, the fact that Mo and i broke up on valentine’s day had nothing to do with the fact that it was valentine’s day. as unlikely as that statement seems, it’s 100% true. trouble had been brewing for many months and just happened to combust like a powder keg on that day. call it coincidence or irony or bad luck. the eventual end result — as Mo and i kept living together for a few months following the breakup (awful idea, by the way) — was the dissolution of our five-year relationship and the irreversible scarring of a day meant to symbolize joyful love.

now it just symbolizes the worst type of heartbreak for me — the type where you fall apart, certain you’re losing the love of your life. it’s bad enough to feel once, but feeling it twice is a special treat reserved for people who live in the third realm of hell. thankfully, the food isn’t too bad down here. a little on the spicy side.

in the weeks leading up to this day, i could feel the blues setting in, the memories racing back, the regrets bubbling up. i thought i had made peace with most of it and think i’ve done good work since my breakup with Mo, but i’m far from peace. there are still quite a few thoughts that make my blood boil or my lip tremble. you’d think the two years i spent thinking, rethinking and overthinking everything would be enough, but heartache is a scab and valentine’s day is the 7-year-old who can’t stop picking at it.

of course, i realize that i may not always feel this way and there could be a great love coming who will reverse everything once again and blah, blah. i’ve heard those clichés, too. could happen, could not, but at this point it really doesn’t matter to me. the only thing that does matter is getting through this day, so i can file away these feelings and memories for another year.

Year in Review

cue the world’s smallest violin for the typical lamentations that come with the ending of another year. despite having very few reasons to complain, i always seem to arrive here feeling like a pile of crap. the year has flown over me like a rocket in space, just like every other year does, yet i still find myself disturbed by the passage of time and how it refuses to stop for me.

because as much as i do each year, there are so many other things i don’t do, things that tug at me like needy children clamoring for attention. it’s the dusty goals, the broken resolutions, the should haves. my hope chest is full of them.

of course i have a very good excuse this year in the form of THE HOUSE, which occupied most of my life and will continue to do so through the first quarter of next year as the deck (finally) gets built. naturally, the house has been my greatest source of happiness and pride this year — in addition to a fair amount of debt and misery.

it’s been an intense 113-day labor to get here, but i love my beautiful new baby and plan to enjoy her for many more years to come. she has taught me so much already, mostly about carpentry, but also about the empowerment that comes from tossing aside your fears and doing what needs to be done. she’s the crown jewel of my year.

another great highlight this year has been my FRIENDS, both new and old. when i reviewed my posts from 2011, what struck me was how much i talked about “socializing.” most of my friends i’ve known between five and 20 years, though this year i met a bunch of new people whom i’m sure will turn into old friends in no time. i hope this trend continues.

one source of these new friends has been HAIKU WEDNESDAYS, a facebook group i started earlier this year on a whim and have grown to love. lots of quality people have joined the group and have put their inspiring creativity on display. the energy there is warm and funny and has made wednesday my favorite day of the week.

as for WORK, it’s been a mixed bag this year. it was definitely not the best year for freelance work as a magazine i had been working on folded. other clients also vanished. thankfully, i have a few prospects lined up for next year, including a new magazine and book assignment, that will be fruitful if all goes well. here’s to hoping that it goes well.

the day jobby has also been fairly stable all year, though it provided a small fiasco this month as i entertained an offer for a new job in a different department within my company. there were several mitigating factors surrounding this, most of them financial. but ultimately, the planets realigned and i decided to stay put as i really dig my boss and have made a happy home in my own department.

as for my WRITING, cue the violin because this is where i want to beat myself up, not only for not updating this blog as often as i had hoped to, but for not getting one single thing published this year. i did try a few times but was demoralized by the rejection like a total, insecure lame ass. i’m going to work on this next year.

LOVE has also been a losing game for me this year. after a short-lived relationship during the summer, i find myself entering another new year on my own. it’s a lonely place to be at 35, but i’d rather be here than in any of the (many) wrong relationships i’ve been in before.

if anything, i’ve grown increasingly less desperate and more picky over the years, understanding that things will work or they won’t. and if they won’t, i don’t need to waste time with silly dramas or childish game-playing, which always indicates a poor match.

of course, i would be a liar to say i wasn’t still hoping for my happy ending and i’m sure i’ll keep trying because i am a romantic at heart. i only hope i make smarter choices and get it right the next time. but if i don’t i know i’ll be ok either way.

Gratitude

this thanksgiving, i am all gratitude and no attitude. in fact, i am erupting with love like a geyser — love for my friends and family, my health and house, my dogs and job, and every other person, place and thing that has caused a smile to cross my face. i don’t take any of it for granted, not even for one second. i count my blessings every day and recognize that i’m one lucky bitch. i know how corny all of this sounds, but it’s the stone cold truth.

clearly, this has not been my favorite year, and i’ll be most thankful when the clock strikes midnight on new year’s eve and ushers in not only a new year but a new decade to wipe my slate and reset my record. only six more weeks to go. i hope to be out of town on that night, among good friends, adequately buzzed and near someone cute to kiss.

on thanksgiving, i hope to be in the same predicament, though i’ll likely be in town, alone and with no one to kiss. the buzzed part i can probably pull off, however. i am orphaned this year, just like i was last year, as my folks are out of town and my sister is with her in-laws. my family got together already last weekend to stuff our faces, drink away our worries and share a few full belly laughs.

it was a nice evening, in the same way that all evenings with my family usually are. for that, i am endlessly thankful. i had a few close friends lose their parents this year, which made me cling a little tighter to my own when i hugged them goodbye after dinner, whispering “i love you” in their ears and planting kisses on their faces. they are my rocks.

thanksgiving also means getting together with old friends, some of whom i already have plans to see on the friday after thanksgiving. i know i’ve said it before, but my friends are my life support system. this year especially, they have provided the oxygen, the nutrients and the therapy i needed to get through some of my darker moments, showering me with far more kindness than i deserve. for this, i am also endlessly thankful, moreso than usual. they are my world.

add to this the furries, the shelter, the regular paychecks and the beauty all around me that floods my senses with fine music, books, food and art and you have my list of things i’m thankful for this thanksgiving. it’s a good list, one i remind myself of whenever i feel a pity party starting to form in my head, one that makes every day a day worth living.

thank you also, dear reader, wherever and whoever you are. i know posting has been light as i’m taking a little winter hiatus to eat, drink and be merry, but i appreciate your eyes, ears and occasional gifts and emails that let me know you’re tuned in and awaiting the next chapter. i’m right there alongside you, also wondering what will happen next, and thankful that you’re accompanying me on this journey.

Season's Greetings

i know i’ve been lousy about posting lately, but it’s the holidays and i’m milking the little downtime i have. more frequent posting will resume after the new year. for now, allow me to send this holiday e-greeting to your mantle, but please do NOT place it next to the card sent by your dentist. he’s a creep. put it next to your favorite friend’s card. a little to the right. that’s better. thanks.

from my home to yours, i wish you, your family, your friends, your pets and your plants the most joyous holiday season imaginable, one that blows your mind with its sheer magnificence. i hope 2010 is the magical year that brings you every last thing your heart desires. most of all, i hope it brings you good times, great health, gainful employment and all the love in the universe. count your blessings. pet your pets. practice happiness. make a toast. tell your people you love them. be guided by good and have faith that the world will be your reward.

as always, thanks for reading.

Thankful for Taco Sauce

in case you haven’t heard, thanksgiving is fast approaching and bringing with it a chance to reflect on all the blessings i normally take for granted in addition to an opportunity to eat until i burst. the latter i already accomplished during an early thanksgiving meal held at my parents’ place, who decided to ditch the family and spend the upcoming four-day weekend relaxing poolside in palm springs.

this frees up the thursday holiday for Mo and i to spend watching bad television and eating tacos, which will basically turn it into any other thursday for us, but perhaps we’ll mark the occasion with a turkey taco. the friday after thanksgiving i have to go to work because the stock market is open for business, which means my company is too. aside from mall employees, this makes me the only person who has to work the friday after thanksgiving.

but i’m actually looking forward to working that day as it will give me some time to reflect on all the wonderful blessings i am thankful for this holiday. hahahaha! actually, i’m looking forward to it because it’s sure to be a mellow day and i can wear jeans to work, which is a blessing unto itself.

as for the other blessings, they don’t really change from year to year. i’m still thankful for the wonderful people in my life, chiefly among them my Mo, my family and my friends who are like family. beyond that, i really love my dogs and my house and the smoky hot sauce that my favorite taco truck puts on its tacos. and in a year during which i saw both my parents and countless friends get laid off, in addition to 15% of my coworkers, i am especially thankful to be employed.

i’m also thankful for you, dear reader, wherever and whoever you are, for you are the wind beneath my wings helping me soar to new heights! i know most of you are my California friends and family checking in to see whether i’m talking smack about you here, but if my blog analytics are to be believed, i also have readers in such exotic places as Lincoln, Nebraska, and Bloomington, Indiana, readers who are surely dashing and effortlessly beautiful and not only because they have superior taste in blogs.

have i buttered you up enough? ok, here comes the pitch: if you, like me, plan to avoid malls and do all of your holiday shopping online this year, please shop Amazon.com via THIS SPECIAL LINK, which will direct a few dimes my way at no additional cost to you. please make your purchase within 24 hours of clicking the link. all proceeds will be used to keep The Milla Times up and running by keeping the collection agencies at bay. donations will be repaid with endless gratitude on my part and maybe a pic of me topless.

this concludes the shameless whoring out of the amazon ads on my website (which all of you seem to be ignoring anyway). thanks for reading, with double thanks for shopping. have i mentioned that your hair looks great today?

Holiday Greetings

apologies to all the friends who sent me the holidays cards displayed above. i’m sorry i didn’t reciprocate your thoughtfulness by sending you a proper card in return. next year for sure. instead, please accept this virtual holiday card from my silly little website. and please have a merry new year and a happy holiday and i hope santa brought you that Wii you wanted and i hope you ate a whole lot and spent quality time getting drunk with loved ones and all that other jazz that usual accompanies holiday cards. i wish you all of that.

i’d like to extend these warm wishes to all the thoughtless folks who didn’t send me a card but still read this site regularly. i guess you’re allowed some good tidings as well, so please take them. and please know that i’m thinking fondly about all of you lately, daydreaming about the terrific 2009 that awaits you — one filled with steady paychecks, home-cooked meals, personal satisfaction and plenty of orgasms. happy holidays.

That Time of the Year

lately, i’ve been feeling kinda blue, kinda blah. it’s the normal holiday season stuff where i pop my head out of the trenches, look around and think to myself, “how’d the end of the year get here so fast? why didn’t i do x, y and z like i had planned?” some days i feel as though i’m far too behind to ever catch up to where i should be right now. other days i feel as though my expectations are ridiculous and i should stop whatever i’m doing and find some friends to laugh with while drinking wine and being merry.

i try to tell myself that life is too short and also still long, so i shouldn’t stress over the fact that i haven’t begun writing The Great American Novel or made enough money to retire by 35. i remind myself that, yay, you bought a house this year! yay, your dogs are sweet and well behaved (sorta). yay, you have good friends and family, and love in your life. i try to count my blessings and imagine how much worse things could be and maybe will be in the future. i try to imagine the alternative — a life lived in Russia, eating snow for thanksgiving and growing a third eye from the Chernobyl explosion in the eighties.

but still, there’s an ick and an ache, a melancholy that says things could be better, i could do better. i could be working harder, writing every night, taking classes, exercising daily, keeping the house cleaner. i could be dreaming up the next great invention, or at least perfecting my burrito recipe. i could do more volunteer work, make that any volunteer work, and resist the urge to sleep all day when there are languages to be learned and dreams to be realized. i could be, would be, should be doing everything i can to quit being so damn average.

holidays really drive it home, reminding me of the x, y and z missing from my list of accomplishments. i know, i bought a house this year and that should warrant some backslapping, but it’s not much comfort because i know i won’t be buying a house next year or the year after. as exhilarating as it was to reach that milestone, it created a vacancy, too. and it’s not like buying a house is some extraordinary accomplishment that landed me the cover of Time magazine as its Person of the Year.

maybe i need a long-term goal to focus on, something that will evoke tunnel vision instead of melancholy, providing me with a sense of purpose instead of the stability that makes me restless. or perhaps i need a long vacation to help me restore perspective — i could visit my three-eyed cousins in Russia. a day at the spa would also be good; i could use a little pampering. or maybe i just need a really rich piece of cheesecake.

I’m All Growed Up!

holidays at my house: i hosted thanksgiving this year like a real grown-up person with a house that can host holidays. i wrestled away the honor from both my mom and sister, who seemed all too eager to pass it onto me. this was my first time doing such a thing and i surprised myself with how badly i wanted to host the holiday — a wholly stressful experience i wish NOT to repeat next year — but since this was the inaugural thanksgiving in the new house, i was hellbent on creating a happy family memory inside it.


the good crystal: thankfully, Mo had his mother’s china stored in boxes in the basement, saving us from having to eat off paper plates. but because we don’t really have a dining area — with most dining taking place on the deck — my pops bought us a foldable table, which we supplemented with bright yellow chairs from Ikea. with a few maneuvers and a striped purple tablecloth, we had a dining room in the center of the living room.


my pops! he performed his usual holiday activity of sitting on the couch and watching a football game while asking intermittently, “is food wready yet? hungry man ovur here.”


my moms! she was there, too, hounding me with her digital camera.


i put her to work: making the rosemary roasted potatoes.


my sister! she was busy making her buttery garlic shrimp and stir-fried asparagus. i stayed busy sorta supervising and savoring the chaos that usually ensues when my family gets together. you’d be surprised how much noise three jewish women in a kitchen can make. and this time we were in my kitchen making noise while preparing the feast, and that felt pretty cool.


my nephew! i can’t believe i used to change this kid’s diaper. Derek’s 7 now, smiley and cute as hell.


the cousins! they played beautifully and shared all their toys.


dinner’s ready: for thanksgivings with my family, there are a few things you can count on: 1) there will be vodka on the table (note the bottle of Level I in the background); 2) there will be no turkey on the table (we all hate it); 3) there will be russian cold cuts, cheese, and smoked sausage and fish plates on the table (because that’s how we roll in the old world).


the “turkey”: my folks brought over cooked meat from an armenian deli near their house. inside that hollowed-out super loaf of bread are about 12 pounds of pork chops, grilled chicken and beef kabobs. this meant we had an abundance of food (another thing you can count on), and i was instructed not to prepare the stuffed chicken, wild rice and butternut squash i had sitting in the fridge. that was cooked a few nights later when Mo and i had friends over to consume what was left of the meat pile.


i made the salad: tossed with delectable homemade dressing! ok, it was just oil and vinegar, but still.


yes, dad, the food is ready: “is vodtka on table?”


then we ate: and laughed and rejoiced and toasted to many things, including the house. my pops got particularly sentimental (after a few shots), saying how proud he was of his baby girl (me!) and how happy he felt to be eating thanksgiving in my house. i told him i was happy, too, and that i couldn’t have done it without his support. with that, a holiday memory was created and the house hosted it beautifully.


meanwhile: my nephew was still playing with the dogs, stopping to ask intermittently, “is dessert ready? i’d like some ice cream, please!”


it was ready: four-flavor cheesecake, apple pie a la mode and the best flan in the whole damn universe, bought from a highland park bakery. it was deliciously sinful, and because i didn’t want to offend the house i made sure to sample everything.


Mo said yes to cheesecake: and the flan, too.


we look nothing alike: my darling sister, Tatyana, had never been to the house before and decided that her housewarming gift would be washing all the dishes after dinner. because she tortured me regularly during our childhood, i made sure to add a few extra dishes to the stack. just kidding! i helped dry them.


Juice on the loose: the holiday meal ended the same way all other meals at the house end — with Juice surveying every inch of the floor in search of food crumbs. beyond that, the leftovers were split three ways, goodbyes were exchanged and i marveled for a moment at hosting my first thanksgiving before proceeding to collapse, exhausted, into bed.

My Summer Vacation

i took three glorious days off of work the other week, which, when combined with the holiday three-day weekend, made for six whole days without work, a condensed summer vacation during which i did a whole lot of nothing. it was a beautiful type of nothing that has no consequences save having to do a something later. haha, i say now to that lengthy to-do list i wrote at the start of my respite before the inertia of sleep and leisure took over. i read it over now and marvel at how silly i was to think i should spend any part of my six days off at Amoeba trying to sell them the used CDs they refused to buy the last time i was there. haha, ha and ha.

the week was not entirely without activity, however. my first day off was spent at marvelous Six Flags Magic Mountain, my beau Mo in hand, riding roller coasters in 100-degree heat. we went on a whim with two-for-one coupons and, as it was a tuesday, barely wasted any time standing in line, and did well to snatch the seats at the front of the train for each ride.

the last time i spent a day at Magic Mountain was 14 years ago during my first year in college, meaning i rode a bunch of new rides this time around, many of which kicked my ass — make that my head. by 4pm, i was spent and queasy; i found myself having to sit still for 15 minutes after each ride to recalibrate my equilibrium, which was flirting dangerously with vertigo. but i refused to be outdone by my childhood hangout so i fought the nausea and trucked on, riding a few more coasters before finally conceding to my wussyhood. by then, we had ridden 10 roller coasters and managed to walk away from the park in a cloud of euphoria, our faces sunburned but smiling and with a fun caricature that we put on the fridge.



if the day at Magic Mountain served as a grad night of sorts to my abbreviated summer vacation, the rest of my week served as the rest of those three months between school years, when laziness rules divine and uninterrupted. i slept in every day, rising reluctantly yet cheerfully, stirred out of bed only when the sound of a dog panting over my face became too smelly to ignore. then i’d languish on the deck with a cup of coffee for an hour while thinking about how little i planned to do with the day.

most days were spent tooling around the house, which didn’t get a whole lot of my attention beyond the usual admiration. i did knock out a few low-effort things on my house list, like reorganizing the kitchen’s contents and setting my desk up in the office, but as far as the labor-intensive work i planned to do in the garage, well haha and ha again.

afternoons were spent reading in bed, with the new ceiling fan making a breeze. as always, my summer reading list is long and i barely managed to power through anything, finishing off just two books before week’s end, one of which i highly recommend. i also had some freelance work happening, including half a dissertation on homicide in Jamaica, in addition to the regular work i do for the ASC.

as evenings approached, i’d get in the kitchen to start the meal-making. Mo and i had a few cookouts, some of which involved good friends who came by to sample our world-famous hamburgers, mashed potatoes and gazpacho. we sat on the deck every night, eating like royalty, our meals topped off with fresh watermelon, while the dogs laid at our feet, mouths ajar and drooling. i left the house only on a few choice occasions — when i felt compelled to shop for food and cute shoes and for a half-hour massage and steam room visit. sadly, i never made it to Amoeba. (ha)

the highlight of the week is one of those had-to-be-there kind of things that involves a lot of 4th of July fireworks. namely, the multitude of fireworks i witnessed blowing up over Highland Park while i sat on my deck, transfixed for three hours. a neighbor mentioned the yearly display casually, saying he’s had to tranquilize his dog before and now just stays across town with his daughter on that night. but i thought nothing of it since most fireworks are illegal in Cali.

haha on me. by 8pm, the place was on fire in a strange mix of disneyland and baghdad. explosions went off every few seconds, followed by colorful sparkles that seemed to occupy every inch of the night sky. to say that there were hundreds of fireworks going off at once is not an exaggeration. to the left, right, overhead, down the road and everywhere else saw a Tijuana firework exploding. from my perfect vantage point on the deck i could see my neighbors’ yards full of bright flashes and booms, while Juice paced nervously through the house, whimpering.

i kept expecting a lull, something to taper off the festivities so i could go back into the house and replenish my vodka spritzer, but the fireworks kept popping for hours like a bag of microwaveable popcorn, with the last few kernels erupting around midnight. all the while, Mo and i sat on the deck in silence, muttering a few holy shits under our breath as a rainbow of fruit flavors blew up all around us. i was stunned, hypnotized, amazed. i had never seen so many fireworks in my whole life. it was AWESOME. everyone in the world is invited to my house next year to see the show along with me.

the week ended predictably: with a major case of sunday blues that pushed me into bed teary-eyed, declaring to Mo that i never wanted to work again and that i better win the lottery before my alarm went off the next morning at 6:30am or else something bad would happen. predictably, something bad did happen: my alarm went off the next morning at 6:30am, forcing me out of bed without cheer to start work at my new job, which i agonized over like it was the first day of school.

Annual

yippee to 2008, which will be so great that i can’t wait to meet my lovely fate in this big golden state which i almost ate, um, for lunch, it was tuna — tunate? ok, wait. i’m getting ahead of myself but i am fully stoked that this year has arrived. i did indeed go into it wide eyed and smiling, joined by a handful of close friends who also lacked grandiose plans so they came over to drink at my place and clink glasses to the new year. and we drank and we clinked and it was warm, loving and positively invigorating.

i must confess that i was in a pretty heavy fog these past few months, walking around with head and spirits low. i started to think that i should go see a head shrinker or a psychic or someone, anyone who could pull me out of my funk. then the light shone and the thought dropped in that maybe i could be the one to pull myself out with some positive thinking and visit to the masseuse.

now is all better. i’m into the year and happy to have the holidays over. work is plentiful but that’s ok because so is my motivation. now is the time to get shit done. and i’m doing up a storm and reveling in the productive.

in addition to the predictable new year’s resolutions of being effortlessly fabulous, buying a house and banging johnny depp, i’ve made some others especially for this year. they include:

• keep your eye on the prize: remember that your family, friends and dogs are what’s most important in this crazy world and that everything you do should be tied to their betterment as well as your own. (apologies to the starving children in africa.)


• eat less meat: this one will be hard because you are a carnivorous (yet kind) soul who thinks that a meal is not really a meal unless there is a dead animal on your plate. but healthwise, you could probably benefit by cutting down on your filet consumption so go find some good tofu recipes.


• spend less time in front of the computer: this will probably be harder because although your computer doesn’t taste as good as a steak, it is less fattening and presumably less harmful to your health, despite its potential for time suckage and a sedentary lifestyle.


• calm the fuck down: having a puppy with an implacable will really made you realize what an impatient madwoman you have turned into. those first few months with Pinko were quite rough and compelled you to behave more like mommie dearest than mother teresa, you bitch. however, you’ve since learned that a few deep breaths will go a long way when puppy’s tail knocks glasses full of red wine off the coffee table or when you come home to find your underwear buried in the yard. so keep breathing.


• whine less: seriously. your life isn’t so bad. instead, consider adopting cousin Gitella’s mantra of “shut up and do it.”


• spoil yourself more: sadly, you’ve begun to realize that you’re just an overemotional crybaby prone to spells of depression who needs to step away from life periodically to recharge. this could be caused by unresolved teen angst or by chemicals in the brain or by simply being a jewish woman who worries too much. whatever the case, this year it will give you license to get more massages, facials and microderms. not a bad bright side. now go enjoy your year.

y'all enjoy yours too.

Nothing New Really

still being a bizzy bee, with day job and freelance by moonlight occupying every moment. i’m hoping to wrap up this damn book i’m editing in the next few weeks. i can see the finish line and am inching steadily toward it like a marathon runner, though i worry my knees will buckle at the last mile. i’m already tired as fuck, cranky as hell. i want it to end already so i can get some sleep. soon, soon, young grasshopper.

thanksgiving was very nice. i’m sure i can do better than “nice,” but that’s all i got. we had it at my sister’s house this year and had too much food on the table, as jews tend to have, with my sister making ham, my ma making pork chops and me making my world-famous zucchini lasagna. add to that about a million side dishes and you have a feast for an army, though we were just seven.

since we were once poor immigrants, we can’t bear to watch good food go to waste, so we proceeded to stuff ourselves to the brim until we were all sitting around the table groaning, hands on our bellies and our pants unbuttoned. then we collapsed on the couch, popped in some dreadful mandy moore romantic comedy for the kids and drifted into fantasyland until dessert magically appeared on the table. then we ate some dessert. and by “we,” i mean i.

this year, i opted out of the standard what i’m thankful for on thanksgiving post because i’ve done it countless times before and guess what? nothing’s changed. i’m still most thankful for all the living beings around me who fill up my heart with light and make me strive to be a better human being, blah, blah, etc. so thanks, skanks!

i do wish to give a special shout-out to the latest living being that’s enriched my life for the better — my indomitable, inexhaustible puppy Pinko, who’s taught me that i can offer unconditional love to a creature that gets on my every last nerve and drives me bat-shit insane most of the time before turning on the cute and making it all better at just the right moment. but i guess that’s parenthood for you.

beyond that, i’m trying to get myself together for 2008, which means setting some realistic goals, half of which i really really hope i will keep. they include eating less and exercising more (hahahahahahaha!!) and, of course, buying a house. they also include blogging more and banging johnny depp.

The Shit List

rather than run through the usual list of things i’m thankful for, which i’ve done countless times in the past, i figure it’s more useful for me (and entertaining for you) to run through a list of all the less-than-blessed things i’ve done this past year or two.

certainly i’ve committed no murders, save the occasional spider or cricket, but i’m hardly an exemplary humanitarian and i’m still ages from becoming the person i’d like to be (a retired superhuman). just kidding! i would totally be a philanthropist.

i must also confess that something inside me is convinced that my toe drama resulted from my being a lackluster jew this year – every year in fact. i don’t remember the last time i observed my culture’s holy days in any meaningful way. then for a giggle, i ridiculed the devout in my last blogging. and to top it off, i’ve lapsed from my once regular yoga practice, causing another blow to my “spirituality.” blasphemy to the bone!

so now i atone for my wretchedness:

• perhaps, maybe, probably a few times i’ve called in sick to work this past year i could have mustered up the strength to come in. not every time, though. and if you’re my boss, i totally was sick.

• i’ve been an L.A. flake aplenty – missing parties, screening phone calls, deleting emails and ignoring instant messages, often times very deliberately. most of the time, it’s just that i’m too wrapped up in my own dealings to be bothered, though there have been occasions when the people themselves are the bother.

• also bothersome was the length of Mo’s list for me when i told him about this entry. i guess i need to get better about taking care of his CDs and DVDs, like i do my own, putting my dishes into the dishwasher and apologizing when i’m wrong.

• juice likely has complaints of her own. having a yard in the back has made long walks through the neighborhood far less frequent. and i’m sure my fish hates me for almost killing him this year and not changing his water enough.

• i still use my expired student ID from grad school to get discounts on movie tickets and museum admissions.

• many, many blog-related regrets, none of which i care to link to lest they perpetuate my own personal embarrassment. but trust that i cringe aplenty when rereading past entries that highlight my bad writing and overblown ego, and contain overly intimate disclosures and the occasional grammatical or spelling error.

• to be filed under Megabitch Moments: i fancy myself much like the gentle stingray that swims through life wholly peacefully, only attacking when provoked. yet when i do attack, i will stab you in the heart. in recent times, a handful of people have tapped into this ire with their comments and actions, to which i’ve replied with a mighty verbal beatdown when i probably should have taken the high road instead. in no particular order, these people include: my sometimes critical parents, rude waitstaff, Mo on a bad day, an ex-boyfriend’s immature girlfriend, an overbearing coworker, unsavory car mechanics and a girl who tried to feed chocolate to my dog.

what a cunt i am! and how thoroughly déclassé to even use that word. i am going straight to hell. oh, wait a second, jews don’t believe in hell so i’m all set. phew.

truth is that i don’t regret all the happenings on this list (except the part about being a deadbeat dog mom). i do believe employees should use sick days as needed – that is what they are for – and i believe that, on occasion, people need to be told to “fuck off” when they are being ridiculous, myself included.

still, this list is rather mild when i consider the types of “sins” i committed in my early twenties when i partied nonstop and shot my mouth off for sport. i like to believe that my bitchiness is more purposeful nowadays, even ethical, succeeding where the passive high road fails. there are definitely things worth shouting about and bitchiness has its benefits.

i certainly don’t shout as much as i did before and in another 10 years – when i’m trying to get into movies under a senior discount – i hope to be shouting even less. guess this means that i’ve always been and always will be a bitch, but hopefully i’ll keep getting better at it.

happy thanksgiving, turkeys.

VD

valentine's day sucks, man. it's so commercial and contrived, full of fakery that never seems to extend to all the other days of the year. and those little, heart-shaped candies are nauseating and taste like sugary wax. flowers die and chocolates make you fat. pink is the ugliest color. it's the worst day of the year.

at least those were my sentiments when i wrote the following piece two years ago. i was enrolled in a column writing class, which i re-imagined as a seminar for writing personal essays since, you know, that's what i do here. (it's always been all about the blog.) but at that time, it was also all about wretched heartache. i had split from my boyfriend of four years rather unexpectedly, just weeks before the dreaded VD.

that produced much ado, most of which is housed in the archives: internet dating, harems, run-ins with the ex, graduation followed by poverty and eventual employment, and now a new boyfriend i'm really digging. the best of times, the worst of times. here is a sampling from the worst:

Broken Hearts Club

Valentine’s Day. I find myself suddenly single again after four years off the market. It doesn’t bother me much that I’m alone on Valentine’s Day, but it seems to bother other people, who insist I join them for the evening. I tell them I’m too busy unpacking boxes, having just moved into a new place following the sudden split, but Zahra is damn persistent.

“Girl, I got us on the list for the Match.com party in Hollywood,” she says in her Jamaican accent.
“Ah, the coveted Los Angeles list,” I remark.
“Yeah, as in we don’t have to pay $25 at the door.”

It’s Saturday. I’ve been single exactly three weeks, and she’s insisting I dive headfirst into what’s sure to be the largest and saddest meat marketing event of the year.
“Match.com, that online dating service, is throwing a party in Hollywood on Valentine’s Day? It’ll be full of losers—”
“— And us,” she quips.

So we go. It’s my first foray into L.A.’s treacherous bar scene as a solo artist, and I commemorate the event by wearing high heels, a dangerously low-cut top and a push-up bra that thrusts those puppies right below my chin. I feel like a clown, but Zahra says I look good, so it’s OK.

We enter the place, and as expected, find a sausage party in full swing. Sadness Central, we have arrived. Men idly stand around surveying the room while groups of girls huddle together, whispering and pointing.

I suddenly flash back to a junior high-school dance and look down at my feet, just as I did then, but that’s where the similarities end. Today, my feet are covered in sequined high heels, and I’m far less shy, less naïve, less optimistic than before, yet just as uncomfortable as ever.

I begin to survey the scene as well and am stunned by the sea of losers L.A. has to offer me on this lovesick night. On display are ugly guys in suits and red ties, awkward men with no fashion sense or sense of self, and the occasional decent guy who seems to disappear into the crowd as quickly as he appeared, making me wonder if he were just a mirage.

The room stinks to high hell of desperation and disappointment — a veritable lonely hearts club, of which I am now, too, a member. And I wonder if they can smell it on me as well, if I wear my sorrow like a cheap perfume that permeates the room, repelling people and making their noses wrinkle up in disgust.

Meanwhile, Zahra is getting all kinds of attention from all sorts of strangers, some of them decent. Zahra, Miss Jamaica 2001, contender for the Miss Universe crown, sporting her taut pageant body and flawless pageant face, while I stand unnoticed, Miss Siberia 1979, Soviet export unextraordinnaire, wrapped in heartache and baby fat. Note to self: Never go to a singles mixer with a former beauty queen again!

And I begin to wonder why the hell I came, why I wore this top, as goons stare at my chest, why I don’t leave right now.

I know why. It’s for that small hope buried deep within me that I’d catch the eye of a handsome stranger — hopefully one who looked like him — who would offer up a shy smile, a flash of desire registering on his face to make me feel wanted again, make me feel like a woman again after he made me feel so unwanted with his cheating. That’s all I’d need to go home satisfied.

But it won’t happen, not tonight anyway.

“I’m out of here,” I say to Zahra, who grabs my arm when I try to walk away, her eyes imploring me to save her from the goons currently asking her to dinner.
“Let’s at least go to another bar,” I offer.

So we go, and there we stay finishing off our evening and several glasses of wine while exploring the farthest reaches of girl talk before we call it a night and get into our respective cars.

As I rev up the engine for my short drive home, I feel the ghost of Valentines’ past grip me, and I flash to that first Valentine’s Day he and I spent together, just weeks after we met, sitting in my bedroom in San Francisco, eating $5 burritos from the joint down the street, giggling without shame as we fumbled over each other and our new love.

And then the following year, after he moved me into his life and home in Los Angeles, when I came from work to find a surprise candlelight dinner awaiting me. I never knew he could cook, but there on the table were two plates of lemon chicken with new potatoes and the most delicious baby carrots. The trick, he said, was adding a handful of sugar while they boiled. They were so sweet.

And I begin to wonder what he’s up to tonight, whether he has already found someone to pass the time with. Would it be wrong of me to call? Could he be with her, whom he ruined us for, though he says she was nothing? Better she were something, so I could be discarded for something more meaningful than one night with a total stranger. I probably shouldn’t care but I don’t know how to stop.

I think all this and my heart gets heavy again, as it does every time I arrive home and step into my empty apartment.

New Year's Greetings

consider this the virtual season's greetings card i meant to send you but never did:
happy new year from Juice and I to you and yours. may your 2005 be full of sunshine and rest. and remember to cherish each day you have and each person you care for because, as we've recently seen, it can all be swept away at any time. i hope health and happiness fill your life and home, now and always. maintain perspective, don't allow stress to get to you, and be kind to people you don't know. try to spend time with children. trust life. marvel at the universe. and smile more.

cheers.

Count Your Blessings

that's the cliche of the day i wrote on the dry-erase board i recently hung over my desk. i saw 'motorcycle diaries' over the weekend -- the based-on-a-true-story story of che guevara and his trek through south america. he and his buddy just journey around the continent for shits and giggles. they see crazy injustice all over: homeless indigenous peoples and persecuted communists and muddied children with leprosy. and at the end of it all, che decides to become the revolutionary he became.

i did feel bad for what i saw, knowing that 50 years later not much has changed in south america, but those moments passed, the way moments do, and my sympathy amounted to nothing. i'll still go on my merry way, having to make those tough decisions about what type of new car to buy next year, while others elsewhere in places i don't have to see starve. i often forget this, probably intentionally, as i wade through the minor melodramas of my life. i wish i could be impacted enough to turn into a militant revolutionary fighting for others' causes instead of my own, just like che, but i'm not built that way, and that's the reality i must face. i'm just not that selfless.

but i don't feel guilty for what i have. in fact, watching this made me very, very thankful. it made my troubles seem teeny tiny, which is likely their actual size. and it made the good fortunes that have befallen me seem that much better. i try not to take what i have for granted, and i don't think i do. it's part of the way i was raised. i'm an immigrant, and that has made a huge impression on my mindscape.

so with this and the holiday season in mind, i began thinking of all the things i'm thankful for this thanksgiving. i began to count my blessings and saw that they weren't so different from the ones i enumerated in last year's December 1 entry. in short, i'm a lucky fucking duckie, and this knowledge will carry me through the many more trips i'll surely make to craplandia: that place -- whether real or imagined -- where everything just sucks. i've visited there many times this year, and a few key people/a dog have managed to pull me out every single time:

-- my amazing parents: they're the type of parents you'd ask santa to bring you for christmas when you were unhappy with your own. without their support, i might just live in craplandia. i can't say enough good things about them here, because there simply aren't enough letters in the alphabet and room on the Internet to do them justice.

-- my GIRLfriends: i don't understand women without women friends. i'm completely incapable of surviving without what i've affectionately termed 'my bitches.' they have been my life support system this year in a way i never imagined they could be. they have listened to my rants, wiped away my tears, smacked sense into me and have never once made me feel ridiculous for saying, thinking or doing any of the things i've said, thought or done. big BIG thank yous especially go to (in alphabetical order) demetria, kiana, raidis, sharon, zahra, zee.

-- juice: i've said it a million times before, and i'll say it once more: i love my dog.

those are the biggies of the year who really taught me the value and meaning of unconditional love. i don't mean to be redundant by again mentioning the things off last year's list, but most of those items i still count as blessings today: extended family, other friends (guys included), yoga, books, music, etc., and of course, my new boyfriend justin who showed me, among other things, the correct way to do a downward-facing dog pose and that there's good stuff to be had in the world of romantic relationships, a world i considered abandoning.

the other thing i'm truly thankful for might seem a little less obvious, but it's perhaps the most important thing of all: my self-esteem. after all, it's the one thing that's allowed me to feel worthy of embracing all these blessings, which could vanish tomorrow. and if they did, i would only have my self-esteem as a guide to know that i could and should keep going. it's my incombustible rock.

happy thanksgiving, everyone everywhere.

Halloween 2004

what a blast this year. i attended the best costume party in the city, put on by my former employers, the dorks at CFQ, and their partners, the makeup effects house Almost Human. unfortunately, i didn't take many photos of the costumes i saw, but trust that they were spectacular. find some here. below are photos provided by zee and nick. thanks, guys.


beauty and the beast: i got mad props from many girls for my outfit. yes, you see it right -- it's a dismembered arm touching my breast. that's what happens when suckas get fresh with me. justin is dressed as...well, we never really figured it out. just some non-descript animal with one big ear.


sheer genius: Nick dressed as Tucker Carlson from CNN's Crossfire.


apparently, two men groped Zee: Zee, dressed as the character from Audition and bathed in spooky lighting, with her own set of dismembered arms.


did i mention the open bar? Raidis, as a sexy french maid, and i took advantage of the free libations, often double-fisting our drinks to avoid waiting in the crazy long line.


the hand that got around: that explains the disappearance of Justin's wallet!


the venerable head dork: my hero Dave dressed as Shaun of the Dead.