Lots of Stuff and Things

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


me and my city

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


blissed out on a rock at Meditation Mount

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

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


GEEK magazine booth at Comic-Con

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


this guy does parties. i have his card.

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


my favorite photo from the Con

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


me with the newlyweds

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


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

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


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

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


family members toasting on my newly refinanced deck

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


en route to train with the furries

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

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

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


see? happy while frolicking on a beach. 

Stuff and Things

the illustration accompanying my Modern Love essay in the New York Times by Brian Rea

minute 16: considering that i haven’t received any “fan” mail in about two weeks and that the high i felt right after the publication of my essay has been replaced by my usual crankiness, i think it’s safe to say my 15 minutes of fame are over. i had a hell of a ride, savored every surreal moment and will forever regard this as one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. just thinking about it now brings an easy smile to my face. it’s done much in restoring my confidence as a writer, and i’ve begun whispering “new york times, dumbass” to myself every time i feel a writer’s blockage forming. i haven’t had a chance to write much lately, but do have a working draft of what i hope will become my next published essay. it’s about porn, which means you won’t see it in the New York Times. i’m thinking Wall Street Journal instead. just kidding! it will probably fit at... ummm... i gotta think that through some more.

second issue of GEEK magazine on newsstands August 14

work: as always, there’s a ton of it keeping me busy and out of trouble. GEEK magazine is the biggest perp, so it’s good thing it’s also my favorite client. the editor and i have worked together for 10 years on five other publications so we’ve formed a strong working relationship in addition to a strong personal relationship (not that kind, perverts; he’s a taken man). i hope to be doing some writing for GEEK in the future in addition to the copy editing i do for it now. also, several of my photos from my first trip to Comic Con, which i still need to chronicle here, have made their way into the third issue, which comes out this fall, marking the first (and probably last) time any of my photos will appear in a national print publication. did i mention that the editor and i are close friends?

all dogs on deck

house: drumroll, please. still waiting. is your drum broken? fine, i’ll proceed without it. MY DECK HAS BEEN BUILT. and not just built, but painted and signed off on by an inspector from the City of Los Angeles (photos to come). it all happened so fast except that it didn’t. phase 1 of the remodel began on august 1, 2011, and stretched well past the year point. but now, with just a few weeks of finish work remaining, i’m sad that it’s about to end and find myself searching for more things for the crew to do just so they’ll stick around. of course, there is more to do, including converting my detached garage (that i never park my car in) into a guest house, but that’s a project for next year. in the shorter-term, the focus is on landscaping, so send me your referrals for great gardeners and landscape architects so they can get started immediately, as i seem to feel unsettled if my house isn’t under constant construction. plus, i really like bossing people around.

my feet and a sunset

free time: not only have i heard of this mysterious concept, i’ve indulged in plenty of it lately. it has taken the form of fancy but cheap meals with friends (thank you, dineLA), hangouts in the park with friends, live shows for bands such as Die Antwoord and Duran Duran, backyard barbecues with friends, and a day trip to San Diego that saw me purchasing a deck table and bench set from a carpenter who works with reclaimed wood, and making a stop at Stone Brewery in Escondido to fill up growlers with great beer. all in all, a great fucking summer.

next up for me is a great fucking fall. i have a few things cooking right now that will make it so. a hint is below. keep tuned.

The Joy of Work

as a general rule, i don’t talk about work here beyond confirming the fact that i am working. the reason for this is because talking about work is boring, yet i don’t have much else to talk about right now. it’s been nothing but work nonstop, which is not meant to sound like a complaint. in fact, i’ll confess that work for me has been gangbusters lately. (and now that i’ve committed these words to the unforgiving internet, the great hand of a telecom satellite will reach down from outer space to smite me.) 

to start, there is the simple fact that i’m gainfully employed by a day job i don’t hate and a boss i really love, which i’m eternally grateful for in this age where people are hurting for work. then there are the many freelance projects i’ve been commissioned to complete, which include two magazines (i’ll discuss those in a future post) and work for my other standing clients such as UCLA and Cedars-Sinai. 

i also am working on a couple of book projects, one of my own making (also to be discussed in a future post) and another by a client who just hired me to edit his self-help book. so yes, it’s raining work, hallelujah. thanks be to god, allah, buddha, moses, gandhi, bob marley and the dali laima. good looking out, guys.

what’s troubling me about all this abundance is how it’s affecting my free time, which is clearly in short supply, though that’s not even the issue. the issue is that the free time i do have i don’t seem to want anymore. what is that about?

i can see it happening a little more every day — this metamorphosis into a workaholic. like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly, i’m witnessing myself change, with scales popping up where there was once skin and my antennae growing longer each week, more attuned now to finding work as though it were food.

in a sense it is food, as i have plenty of bills to pay and will have more once my roommate moves out at the end of the month and construction on the deck begins. so the paychecks will find a new home lining every pocket except my own. i also made a resolution to cut my construction debt in half by the end of the year and, at the six-month mark, i’m on track with that goal.

so money is part of it but not the whole part as i can probably work less and still get by. it’s just that i can’t stop working, even when it’s OK to stop, like at night when it’s time to sleep and not check your iphone constantly and without cause. i also probably don’t need to live in front of my computer the way i do, with email, facebook and dropbox windows always open. i could probably give myself a break here and there, maybe take a walk around the block, but it never happens.

when i do leave the house for an event or a meal with friends, i feel anxious to get home and am too often overcome with the desire to reach for my phone. in an effort to force myself to “relax goddamnit” (my latest mantra), i got a massage a few weeks ago but could barely enjoy it. the masseuse seemed to be taking too long, way longer than the 60 minutes we had scheduled, i was sure of it.

i also feel like i talk too fast nowadays and in a way that’s all business. conversations with me need to have a point, particularly an endpoint so i can hang up and return to my work. i have trouble sleeping through the night, my mind jumpy with my to do list, which i keep in a running email i send to myself daily, resending as new items are added and completed items are removed. 

the bright side of all this effort is that my shit is getting done on time. deadlines are met, results are delivered. i am an efficiency machine. it’s the type of busy where there won’t be time later so it must get done now. and i get it done and redone and overdone and superdone. and then i do some more. 

and when there’s nothing left to do, i drive myself crazy with thoughts about how i could have done it better. but here’s the kicker: those thoughts don’t center on my work as much as they do on the rest of my life. it’s mostly memory-lane stuff , involving the people, places and things of my past. i’ll fixate on my (perceived) missteps, telling myself i should have stayed in San Francisco after college instead of moving back to LA. i’ll wonder why i didn’t trust my gut when it told me that last guy was not a keeper. i’ll beat myself up for working for others instead of working on my own writing. 

maybe that’s why work feels so welcome lately: it’s the one place where i feel competent. even when i do make a mistake there, i never obsess over it. i simply shake it off and keep moving forward. it’s the same approach i’ve taken with everything in my life, i suppose. yet i’ll ruminate on my life’s mistakes — endlessly, needlessly, constantly — long after the time to change anything has passed. 

of course, i know no one gets to play a perfect game, that we all make mistakes and learn from them, grow stronger and become who we are today, blah, blah, blah. i know this shit. and that’s what’s troubling: i should know better. still, there’s no off switch, nothing to shut out this internal melodrama and self-obsession that’s making me feel like a teenager. work is my only reprieve.

of course, there are worse addictions to have, some i’ve likely had before, including an addiction to nicotine. and while it’s easy to think that my love for work is just the latest manifestation of an addictive personality, i know this isn’t the case with my personality because if it were, i would have gotten addicted to every drug i tried in college, of which there were many. but none really stuck besides cigarettes (at least not for the long term).

and that’s my hope here — that all of this will be short-lived. my birthday is fast approaching, bringing the coulda-shoulda-woulda blues with it as it has in years past. i don’t doubt that this has been playing a big part in the mental mind-fuck i’ve been giving myself. but my birthday will soon pass along with the rest of 2012, which will be characterized as the year of “the crazy to do list” for me. and when it’s done, i hope i can look back on the great projects i completed fondly while no doubt struggling with some new preoccupation.  

Happy Anniversary to Me

i celebrated TWO big anniversaries this month, one of which produces money while the other just sucks it out of me. if you guessed the anniversaries of 1) being employed at my current job and 2) buying my house, award yourself 10 points.

i’m still in disbelief that i really have spent five whole years working at my job — a job i was sure i’d hold for just two or three years when i started. i’m glad i stayed, however. by all measures, it is a good job at a good company. i don’t love my work but i don’t hate it either. i like my coworkers alright, but not enough to hang out with them outside of work (with the exception of a select few). i love my boss very much.

at the end of the day, it’s a job. i don’t think about it much on weekends and i never feel compelled to write about it here. it’s neither my dream job nor my nightmare. i’m fairly neutral on the whole thing, which is odd considering that i have strong opinions on pretty much everything else in the world. but i think i’ve managed to compartmentalize my day job as just my day job because i have enough things happening on the side to avoid turning the 40 hours i spend in the office every week into the centerpiece of my life.

still, 40 hours is a lot of time and i probably should be spending it “furthering my goals,” whatever that means. the more i think about it, the more simpler my goals become: to live a comfortable life while surrounded by the people i love and enjoying the things that interest me. thankfully, my current job allows me to do just that (more or less). and though i don’t intend to retire from my company in 30 years, i’m content to float in it for the foreseeable future.

then there is the house anniversary. two years have passed since i closed escrow and began my adventures as a homeowner. if i’ve learned anything at all in that time is that it helps to love your house like a spouse, because when it starts acting up and driving you crazy, the love alone stops you from dousing it in kerosene and setting it on fire for the insurance money.

beyond that, i’ve learned that i actually like being a homeowner. it suits me well. i don’t mind having to pour my paychecks into my house, and i don’t mind being the one responsible when things start breaking down because i know i won’t shortchange my home like a landlord might. i want my house to host my friends and create holiday memories for my family. i find zen in pulling out the weeds in my yard. i love waking up in it every morning and coming home to it every evening. it’s truly my sanctuary.

so happy anniversary, house and job. you are both the wind beneath my wings, the apples of my eye, the springs in my step and, sometimes, the banes of my existence. but mostly, you are lovely backdrops for my days.

Octobered

ever since i returned from my glorious two-week vacation, which i still need to finish chronicling, my days have consisted of work, work and more work, both at the day jobbie and during moonlighting hours. this has left little time for blogging, socializing and spa days, three of my most cherished pastimes. part of me thinks i should begin saying “no” to jobs to regain some of the downtime i so very much miss, but the bigger part of me is a greedy bitch who thinks i have no real reason NOT to hustle.

good news is that i’m making money, none of which i have time to enjoy and all of which is sent out the door as quickly as it comes in to pay down the debt i’ve been complaining about all year. i have set myself a goal that i must meet by the end of December, and as the internet as my witness, i will meet it, maybe exceed it, even if it means work-filled weekends and tired eyes. and then i will get a massage and sleep for three days straight.

when i haven’t been working, i’ve been enjoying oktoberfest-inspired activities like drinking beer and eating finger foods. Mo is very much a microbrew aficionado and for his birthday this year (October 19, mark your calendars), i took him to the kickoff celebration of LA Beer Week, held at our very own local watering hole, the Verdugo, where we entered a raffle to win two tickets to the closing celebration of Beer Week, held at Descanso Gardens. guess what? just guess. ok, i’ll tell you: we won the raffle! and so came a glorious week bookended by beer celebrations that had us sampling some of the best craft brews in the nation. it was pure liquid love. hiccup.

October also held a little travel, both professional and personal. it began with a company-sponsored trip to Washington, DC, for a two-day FINRA conference on advertising regulations — riveting! (no joke) — where i met my fellow compliance brethren and discovered that we really are the most despised department in all financial organizations.

then i went off to a suburb of Baltimore, MD, for a few days to visit my dad’s side of the family. for reasons unknown to me, this trip seemed to turn my father into my mother for a few days, which resulted in him calling me five times a day, every day, to ask if everything was OK. thankfully, it was OK — better than OK in fact. i had a marvelous time drinking, eating and exchanging stories with my cousins, and even got to meet my uncle for the first time in 30 years, an experience that was nothing short of life-affirming.

Maryland is beautiful in the fall, very New England-esque in the way the leaves change color to form clusters of trees that look like rainbows shooting out of the ground. it was a mesmerizing sight, one that had me uttering, “look how beautiful it is” every time i stepped outside, enough times for my cousins to say, “yes, we know how beautiful you think it is. we get it!” i, for one, do not get it enough. the plan is to return to Maryland more often and mostly in the fall. i simply must see more of that foliage.

One Step Closer to World Domination

how’s that for a pompous headline? the other option i was tinkering with was Irons in the Fire, but that wasn’t nearly as descriptive enough because, clearly, i’m so close to dominating the world that i can taste the champagne wishes and caviar dreams that must accompany such a feat.

and when i finalize my conquest, i’m sure Robin Leach will come out of the woodwork to welcome me into the Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. he’ll be wearing a white leisure suit, like the ones from Miami Vice but designed by Armani, and holding a flute filled with champagne and gluten-free cracker smothered in caviar. beluga only.

actually, i’m not at all close to world domination, but the only way i’ve managed to trudge through all the work that’s overrun my life lately is by tricking myself into thinking that world domination is the reward for all this effort. because paychecks and pats on the head are not enough. at least not when the world is waiting for me to dominate it by putting it on my keychain and spinning it around on my finger.

the workload has been immense, like work-from-morning-to-night-with-no-time-for-a-shower-or-pee-break immense. like plaster-yourself-to-a-chair-and-stare-at-your-computer-until-your-eyes-bleed immense. thankfully, it appears that the most labor-intensive work is behind me, leaving just steady freelance that i can complete comfortably on weeknights and weekends.

but i know that the threat has not entirely passed and there is more crazy ahead. i can see the clusterfuck coalescing like the plot of a bad ben stiller movie, due to hit me again at the end of the month, right around the time i should be getting ready to go on vacation (portland for my cousin’s wedding).

i do desperately miss my downtime, but considering that i had complained about doing a lousy job of Paying Down Debt in an earlier post, i am not complaining about this sudden interest in my services, which have recently expanded into NEW and EXCITING fields that are so NEW and EXCITING that they deserve the caps lock key.

usually, my moonlighting consists of copy editing and proofreading, but lately i’ve branched into doing more copywriting for ad agencies, QA testing for websites and creating inventories of content. i’m even doing sales work for a good friend by helping him pitch his company. i’m finding that flashing a little tit helps with that one.

the end result is one busy me, still struggling with sleep and wanting very much to clone myself lately, tits and all, to help lighten the load. but if there is one bright side to being busy as hell, it’s this newfound focus i haven’t experienced in ages, where i am as sharp and attentive as a hungry hunter going in to kill his prey. because, nowadays, when i have just one hour free in my day to finish something, by god i will finish it in that hour. and i will not even procrastinate with OCD distractions like checking personal email or cruising facebook every ten seconds, something i thought was not possible.

my only hope is that i can maintain this focus forevermore going forward, which may actually be the thing that can bring me one step closer to world domination, but ooooh, look, the sun is catching the mini disco ball i have hanging in the bedroom and covering the walls in light that looks like glitter!!! so cooool!!!! i wish you guys could see it.

The L Word

a few concerned readers (my parents) have asked me how my job situation is and whether the dreaded layoffs my company announced in march have finally occurred. sadly they have not yet occurred, and i use “sadly” here because imagine the anxiety of coming into work for the past two months wondering, “is today the day?”

imagine the whispered conversations with coworkers by the water cooler that go something like, “hey, heard anything?”
“no, have you?”
“no.”
“what do you think is gonna happen?”
“i don’t know. what do you think is gonna happen?”
“i’m not sure either. it’s messed up, man.”
“yeah, it is. but hey, i heard there were leftover donuts in the breakroom.”
“cool, let’s go check it out.”

tragic, right?

imagine the sleepless nights and wild dreams spent worrying about the future. just the other night i dreamed that i walked into work and was intercepted at the elevator by some faceless HR drone with a clipboard who led me into a room where a few dozen of my coworkers were already waiting. it became clear that the drones were leading everyone into different rooms where we would all wait to find out our fate, American Idol style.

through the glass doors, i could see Randy, Paula, Simon and that new judge entering rooms to tell us employees, “sorry, the journey ends here,” or “congratulations, you’ve made it to the next round!” some rooms erupted in cheers, others in wails. then they approached the room i was in and walked through the door in slow motion. i looked around to see whether i was in good or bad company and saw that others were doing the same. it was impossible to tell as there were bad and good seeds (and singers) among us.

a lump gathered in my throat as Paula began to speak. as usual, she seemed drunk, maybe drugged, slurring her words and ribbing on Simon. she even leaned over and squeezed his nipple before throwing her head back and laughing maniacally. confused looks shot all across the room and i looked over at Randy, wishing he would call me his “dawg” like he did during Hollywood Week.

then Paula became serious, steadying herself to finally deliver the news. i could feel myself twitching nervously, a panic overtaking my body as i waited for her to tell me whether i could still pay my mortgage after today. she was about to say it, the words rolling slowly out of her mouth while my heart pounded in my chest.

then i woke up.

The Conversation Chronicles: Sign of the Times

me, answering my cell phone: hello.

some chick: hi, is this milla?

me: yes it is.

some chick: hi, milla. this is Amanda calling [from that agency that sometimes gets you freelance work, but is doing a lousy job of finding you anything lately.] do you have a minute to talk?

me, getting excited about the possibility of new freelance work: SURE! I CAN TALK!

Amanda: great. we’re doing our yearly check-in with all our freelancers and i just wanted to give you a call to see how things were going with you.

me: things are good. i still have my full-time day job, but i’m always looking for proofreading assignments i can work from home on weeknights and weekends. has anything like that opened up?

Amanda: not lately, but i’ll keep an eye out for you. i was also wondering how things were going in your current company, if you guys have any openings you need filled.

me: i doubt that we do. we just had a big round of layoffs so i don’t think they are hiring right now.

Amanda: oh, ok. well, maybe i can add your email to receive our weekly newsletter that has a list of all our available freelancers, and if you hear of any openings that might match the skill sets of the people on the list, you can let me know. does that sound ok?

me: ummm, not really. i don’t work in human resources so i’m not at all responsible for the hirings and firings that go on at my company. i don’t think i can help you with that one.

Amanda: maybe you can forward the newsletter to everyone you know who’s looking for talent. how about that?

me: i don’t know anyone looking for talent. the people i know are all looking for jobs.

Amanda: yeah, i wish we had more we could offer, but business around here has been slow. so if you hear of any opening at all, please let me know, ok?

me: will do, though this is definitely a first. usually i’m the one calling you guys for work, not the other way around.

Failure

as some of you know, i have been a huge fan of Despair.com for many moons and even bought their build-it-yourself calendar, which features 12 of my favorite selections from their “demotivator” line of satirical motivational posters.

the calendar came my way via a gift certificate given to me for christmas by my beyond fantastic boss, who (thankfully!) totally gets me. for this i am endlessly grateful, as it makes our working relationship a virtually perfect one.

the print to the left is probably my absolute favorite demotivator (this one’s pretty good, too), and when i flipped my calendar to March and saw FAILURE staring at me in big green letters, a huge smile crossed my face. i then ran over to my boss’ office and told her that the word of the month is “failure” and that we both had to slide it into office conversations as much as possible.

as much as i love these posters, i’m totally jealous i didn’t come up with the idea for them first, as they perfectly sum up my sense of humor, and my life.

Shitty

if this blog is good for anything, it’s good for keeping a tally of when i’m actually right about things. and right there in my Annual entry, immortalized in 10-point arial font is my prediction that 2009 will be a shitty year. granted, it’s not living-on-the-streets-in-a-cardboard-box-eating-out-of-trash-cans shitty, but allow me some creative license here and rest assured that each time i enter into woe-is-me mode i do remind myself that i could be stuck in Ukraine, growing a tail from the Chernobyl explosion.

despite the fact that i have no such gangly tail growing — which seems sorta cool the more i think about it — 2009 has started rough. admittedly, the roughness has hit others more than it has hit me, but because i am a sensitive soul who feels every discomfort in the universe, i’m bummed about it, too.

it all began when my mom got laid off from her job as a mechanical engineer. technically, it was a forced leave of absence (unpaid), so she may be rehired, though i think that’s doubtful considering her company has not invited back the first group that was forced out. needless to say, she’s been sad beyond sad, as she’s spent 15 years with her company, loving on her work and her colleagues. plus, my superstar mom was always the primary moneymaker for the family, so the elimination of her paycheck sucks harder than it would if my pops were laid off.

a week and a half later, my pops was laid off. shit squared. this was a surprise as his company still seemed busy while my mom’s had all but shut down operations. so now both mom and dad are out of work, just years shy of retiring, their savings eroded by last year’s market implosion, their hopes dashed for a comfortable retirement.

i visited them as soon as i found out, took them to lunch and helped with their resumes like a good daughter would have, all the while feeling guilty as shit for the money i owe them, money they could use right about now, money i cannot yet repay. to assuage my guilt, i brought them some food, some flowers and did all i could to cheer them up while they sat sullen, shocked and unamused. finally, i offered to give them all the money i had in my account, but they refused like the good parents they are, reminding me that their 40 years in the workplace has made their account slightly more robust than mine. “hang onto your cash, Meel,” my mom said as she clipped coupons at the kitchen table. “you might need it this year.”

two weeks later, my company had its own round of layoffs, which wasn’t a huge surprise as there were hints galore that cuts were on their way. the day of the layoff felt like an eight-hour funeral, with people huddled in corners, speaking in hushed tones, and wearing darker colors despite the 80-degree weather outside. the good news is that i escaped unscathed (this time), though 500 of my coworkers did not.

there were large meetings held, where the big cheeses sat at the head of a very long conference table, promising nothing about the future. i’ve already been told not to expect much of a raise this year, nor is the profit-sharing bonus my company doles out each June likely considering we made no profits last year.

sorry, Mom and Dad. that raise and bonus were earmarked for your pocket. i guess we’ll all be clipping coupons together at the kitchen table this year. sorry, laid-off coworkers. that totally sucks. i know i’m the lucky one in all this and i don’t take that fact for granted, not even for one second. and i still have hope for 2009. with 11 months to go, it has plenty of time to make up for the shit storm of the past five weeks.

(p.s. i’ve been hustling like a whore in church to find extra freelance work, so if anyone knows/needs help with proofreading/copyediting/copywriting, email me asap! reasonable rates! fast turnaround! references provided! thanks!)

The New Gig

i’m two weeks into the new jobby now. i’m still with the same company, just moved over into a totally different department to do totally different work. the move was less than smooth but a long time in the making. i knew about it for six months and tried to make the transition sooner, but my old department — which was swamped with work, much of which they wanted me to complete — lined the road with hoops of fire.

i got the tap on the shoulder last christmas; new department called and said, “hey, we’re creating a new position here. maybe you can fill it.” it’s weird because i wasn’t unhappy in my old role or even looking for something new, but i knew i would take it immediately, despite feigning cucumber coolness at that first phone call, which i ended with, “i’ll think about it.”

it seemed like divine intervention, like the faeries floated out of the trees and said, “hey you, girl — the girl with the confused look on her face and pimple on her nose. yes, YOU. in addition to the house you’re about to get and old boyfriend you just reconciled with, you’ll be starting a new job in the summer. get ready.”

it should have seemed like too much to take on at once, but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. things had become too steady, too built. i could feel the restlessness thrashing around inside me, screaming “i’m bored! i’m bored!” and here came the opportunity to tear it all down and rebuild.

i had been doing my old job for three years. in case you missed it, my old job was working as a copy editor for my company’s website, a website that helps facilitate the selling of mutual funds. it’s ok to be jealous. i know it’s the sexiest work around. i know this because when i’m at a dinner party with new people who ask me what i do for a living and i say, “i’m a finance editor,” their eyes glaze over with jealousy. then they turn their backs on me, probably after concluding that i’m the coolest person in the room and they’re too intimidated to talk to me. then they walk away.

i can’t wait to see their reaction when i tell them that i work for my company’s compliance department. they will surely turn green with envy. and what of this new department? well so far, i love it. the team i’m working on is much smaller than the web team i used to be part of, and that’s a better environment for me. i’m pretty much working with just three other women, all of whom i get along with splendidly. so splendid that our periods have already synchronized.

the job is slower paced, i’m in fewer meetings, and i have greater autonomy in my work, some of which involves maintaining my company’s internal compliance website, which means all the tech classes i’ve taken in the past will finally pay off. the only thing i miss about my old job are the very nice people i’ve become buddies with over the last three years but there’s plenty of opportunities to gossip with them over lunch.

new job also means i’m taking the metro to work three days out of the week. i’m still abnormally excited by this. to prepare for my new adventures as a Gold Line commuter, i bought the most excellent ergonomic backpack and loaded my new iPod touch full of music. on day one at the train station, i put the iPod on shuffle and plugged the earbuds into my head just as the train approached and U2’s “The Fly” came on. that’s my most favorite U2 song.

as i stepped onto the train in search of a seat, scanning the faces of my fellow Angelinos and with this crazy guitar riff blasting in my ears, i felt this strange rush overtake me, complete with tingles in my head and goose pimples on my arms. it was surreal, like a scene in a movie, where i looked around and wondered, “am i still in LA because this feels totally foreign?” but yes, i was still in LA and loving on it.

i wanted to share my excitement with the other commuters, maybe go around the train offering hugs, but they looked far less ecstatic to be there. in fact, they looked downright bored, like they had been riding the train for years and would rather be sitting in an air-conditioned car, while i sat near them with a stupid grin on my face, listening to Bono’s falsetto sing “Love, we shine like a burning star falling through the sky.”

Everything Else

when i haven’t been busy loving on the house, working on the house or living in the house, i’ve been doing other stuff. not much other stuff, though, as the house remains the centerpiece of most waking moments. but when it’s not, i’ve been spending time doing much exploring of my new neighborhood, which i’ll get to at a later post and which entails the eating of much mexican food. it also entails getting lost constantly and following streets until they dead-end into hillsides — a common feature in highland park. then there’s the trips to ikea, home depot, lowes, Micky Mouse Hardware, and there i go talking about the house again. let me try to stay focused with some bullet points:

• i saw Duran Duran in concert a few weeks ago, which made me very, very happy since i loves me some Hungry Like the Wolf. i’ve seen them before, numerous times in fact and, as always, their performance was beyond superb and made me scream like the 14-year-old girl i truly am inside. but unlike the 14-year-old girl i used to be, who would spend hours by the backstage door hoping to catch a glimpse of my soul mate, bassist john taylor, i went home right after the sunday-night show, humming New Moon on Monday during the drive home.
  


• i took the Gold Line to work the other week — and was probably a little too excited by it. it was an exhilarating experience, one i never thought i’d have in this fair city of mine, where car culture is the only culture outside of the yogurt. but there i was making the 10-minute drive to the train station, where i parked my car and hopped aboard the choo-choo — dumb smile on my face, my love for los angeles overflowing — and sat among the other commuters navigating their way into downtown LA for the workday. one trip did the trick, so starting in july i’ll be going metro to work three out of five days. this means a company-paid metro card, the $50/month parking fee my work charges waived, and savings galore on gas.
  


• speaking of work, i’m starting a new job at my company in july. i’m not sure what i can say about it here other than it’s different from the work i’ve been doing as a financial editor, though not entirely different. i’ll still be making edits to copy, but whereas before when i would review copy and then send it to my company’s Compliance department for rubber-stamping, i’ll now be on the Compliance side doing the rubber-stamping. the job is rooted in the legal department and will have me interpreting all sorts of sexy FINRA guidelines, like how regulatory disclosures should be presented in sales materials. HOT!
  


• i spent a few days in beautiful El Segundo taking a course on Cascading Style Sheets (CSS), which are complicated as a mother fucker to learn. the course was the complement to the HTML course i took last year in Costa Mesa, which was also complicated. i’m sure it could all make sense with a little practice, maybe a lot of practice, but three days of having the nuances of a programming language thrown at me overwhelmed me enough to conclude that i am just too stupid to learn this stuff.
  


• i saw the SATC movie, which i enjoyed immensely as it felt like a long, new episode of the show and was made better by the fact that i caught one of the SATC T-shirts the ushers threw into the crowd before the film started. i got some serious mad-dog glares from the girls surrounding me when i nabbed it and worried that those bitches would jump me in the parking lot after the show, but they kept their distance after i told them that i knew kung fu. (i don’t know kung fu.) the shirt reads “I ♥ New York,” which is funny because i don’t ♥ New York all that much. i ♥ LA infinitely more, especially after that train ride.

Happs

man, oh manischewitz. this year has started with quite a flurry. i wish i could say i’ve been doing all this cool and amazing shit, like dining with the queen of england, that has prevented me from posting, but truth is i’ve just been working like a jerking.

i must be suicidal or very, very greedy because i cannot seem to say no to a paycheck. january dropped three new freelance projects in my lap and of course i said yes to everything despite their overlapping deadlines. but in the spirit of keeping my eye on the prize, i’ve vowed to work hard and do everything i must to secure my mythical kingdom. (queendom?)

yes, house hunting still. no, no news yet — at least none that my jewish superstitions would allow me to share. there are rumblings here and there, as there have been since the start, but i’m getting better about remaining detached. i’m not falling helplessly in love with houses so much anymore and i’m trying not to allow the process to frustrate me. i’m sure my new attitude has frustrated those around me, however, who’d like me to extrapolate on the “i’ll think about it and let you know” response that i seem to be saying too often nowadays — complete with the too-cool-to-care shoulder shrug.

it’s not that i’m suddenly unconcerned about where i’ll end up living, i’m just trying to replace the stress with faith — faith that i’ll find the right thing, that i’ll know it when i see it, that i won’t need to go and “think” about it too much. it will happen because it has to happen. and if it doesn’t happen, then i will murder my agent, broker and anyone else who’s been working so hard to make money off of me. just kidding! if it doesn’t happen, then it wasn’t meant to happen. i read that in a book somewhere.

what’s nice is that one of my current freelance projects has me proofing a carpentry textbook, which i’m sure i’ve mentioned before. it couldn’t have come at a better time and has provided quite the education on house construction. not that i can get a miter saw and some plywood and construct my dream house suddenly, but at least i now know what a miter saw is. i’ve also learned why sloped roofs are better than flat ones and that carpentry involves a lot of scary geometry.

speaking of scary, my other project has me proofing a scan of a Stephen King novel. the novel is The Mist and it’s scaring the bejezuz out of me and making all the ominous rain clouds currently rolling through Los Angeles look mighty unnerving. in the book, the mist is full of creepy, crawly, flesh-eating insects that can decapitate you with their juices. not fun. now when i kiss the puppies goodnight before bed, i find myself telling them not to pee on the floor and to stay out of the mist.

oh yes, the puppies! yay for them! Pinko has turned super duper in the past few months. she’s far more affectionate and relaxed than she was in the beginning, and she’s even managing to separate herself from Juice’s side for more than two paces at a time, which is a breakthrough. i’ll post some photos for y’all to barf at soon.

The Busies Continued

work is insane lately. like loony bin, nuthouse, certifiably, committably, need medication for life insane. in my brilliance, i overlooked the fact that i might need to sleep now and then and picked up another freelance gig that has me editing a two-volume book on cinematographers. as with most things, it sounds cooler than it is and it’s whittled my free time down to zero.

but i signed myself up and i’m the type of gal who keeps her commitments. trust me on that point. don’t listen to my friends, who’d likely tell you that i’ve been LA flaking on them left and right. don’t mind the stack of unopened mail on my desk or myriad unanswered messages in my inbox, i get my shit done.

and after i’m done with the cinematographers, i have the carpentry book to keep me warm through the holiday season. and after that i’m hopeful for a seasonal slowdown that will afford me time to visit with the peoples and spend some of the cash i’ve been working so hard for. currently, it’s all been going toward the pay-off-your-damn-car-already fund, but mama needs a new iPod and some microderm.

mama also needs to update this blog more often. i’m sitting on a few stories i’ve been meaning to share about my attendance of open houses downtown and the annual copy editor forum and about my trip to chicago. bear with me. they’re coming. but for now i’m going. work beckons.

Disinfection

recovery has finally made an appearance on the horizon. i can almost taste it. and thankfully it doesn’t taste like a lugee. it tastes more like an ionic breeze, slightly metallic but clean, like distilled water.

also good is that the source of my sickness has been identified. i think this is one of those few occasions where the phrase “i’m allergic to work” can be used both literally and figuratively. ok, it’s a weak pun but let me claim my small victories. i’m still sick. cough cough.

but seriously, i am allergic to my workplace. i guess the bright aura i’ve credited myself with having lately was really a radioactive glow. my mistake for not noticing sooner. what i did notice was that i got sick soon after i moved floors at work in mid-may. i moved to a floor undergoing construction, and although the affected areas are neatly taped off and away from worker bees like myself, those allergens jumped the fence and burrowed into my lungs, causing the bronchitis. cute aryan doctor pieced this together when i mentioned the move, the construction, and that other peeps on the floor have also developed coughs.

he also cautioned that i’ve been bringing the allergens home, as they’re the clingy types that have attached to my clothes and hair, meaning they’re in my house and car, meaning that i need to disinfect pretty much everything in my possession. but here’s the best part: guess where the allergens are most concentrated? wait for it, wait for it.

my bed! awesome, right? guess that will teach me to hang up my clothes every day. at least i finally have an explanation for why i always felt more miserable after crawling into bed to rest. and it’s also nice to have finally isolated the cause of the hives.

yeah, the hives. they’ve popped up several times already, always in the middle of the night. it’s a fun little panic to awaken to. at first, i attributed their appearance to a new marinade, but when they refused to relent long after the marinade had passed through my system, all blame landed on these allergens.

so now i disinfect. the comforter has been dry-cleaned, the mattress febreezed and vacuumed, the sheets boiled, and an air purifier — yes, the Ionic Breeze from Sharper Image — is doing the rest. workwise, my supervisors have kindly agreed to my request to be moved off the floor until construction ends. and no, i’m not suing.

but i am still disinfecting. i have the sanitizing wipes attached to my sleeve so if i see you and insist on wiping you down with bleach before giving you a hug hello, you know why.

Work Matters

been two years now that i’ve worked at the ole jobby. and as a happy reminder of that fact, my boss sat me down for my annual review, which was a lovely occasion that rivaled last year’s good-vibes review, with a few differences. i have a new boss now, my third in two years and most likely my favorite. i also had more reasons to smile this year as i was awarded a hefty raise and a promotion that adds the word “senior” before my job title. new boss kindly threw some pleasant adjectives my way to describe my work performance — though i’m still baffled by the idea that i’m “organized”— before topping it off with a performance of the other MC Hammer favorite: 2 Legit 2 Quit.

been busy lately at the old jobby, too. a few new projects have come my way after i completed a semi-sizable project where i was the spearhead. it was largely a positive experience, leading this project, giving me a nice confidence boost and a few kudos from my peers and superiors. and though i did it and was all “yay, me” once it ended, i couldn’t have been more disinterested in the topic: Expense Ratios.

it’s a constant struggle for me, working in an industry without a strong human factor. i prefer industries centered around people and their stories, not mutual funds and their underlying holdings. most days the content bores me until my eyes bleed. and unfortunately, this cancels out one of the reasons i decided to pursue a career as an editor — so i could learn more by reading all day. and while i have learned plenty about the wonderful world of finance, i’m not inspired by it. sure, i’ve become a more savvy investor, and certainly a greedier one, but i don’t jump out of bed enthusiastically when my alarm goes off to check data on mutual fund performance.

despite the material, i do like the environment in which i work. it’s cooperative, not competitive, and my coworkers are impressive, smart people who make my job much easier. true, i don’t ever care to see them outside of scheduled work hours, but that’s not because they suck — it’s because i’d rather spend that time seeing my friends and family instead. and the company i work for cannot be beat. it truly values its employees and rewards us constantly with everything from free food and concert tickets to incredible health care on the cheap.

it’s quite the quandary of dull work vs. great everything else. i’m not sure how much i would enjoy the flipside of engaging work in an unsupportive environment. i’ve worked for enough shitty bosses and crap companies to know i have it good at my job. the trick, i’m finally realizing, is to come to work every day with an eye on the good, do what i need to do (and do it well), collect my paycheck and go about enjoying my free time.

it might not be the rock star lifestyle i envisioned myself living, but it will have to do until a more appealing alternative comes along.

Nickels & Dimes

if i had a nickel for every time someone told me to exercise caution in what i post here because it might catch up with me at my day job, i could cobble together about thirty cents. yeah, i think i’ve heard that advice about six times. i refuse to heed it and heel to it, however, cus i’m a wild and crazy nonconformist. with a day job. working in finance. corporate as it comes.

i know some work peeps have found this thing and commented to me about it. for all i know, more could be reading -- perhaps during work hours! -- and i could not care less. this is the internet. it’s the most public of spheres, and i’m well aware that anyone can see this. so don’t go telling me to be careful about sharing racy details about my life when i’ve never once mentioned the name of the company i work for nor have i discussed work matters here. keeping this thing going for three years has already required plenty of self-censorship and has turned me into a person with very little shame. and who the hell wants to read a sanitized version of history, with all its wars and famines and struggles omitted? yeah, yeah. i’m all about keeping it real. word to your mother.

march 14 makes one year that i’ve been with my current job and to commemorate the occasion, my boss kindly sat me down and gave me my annual review. seems just like yesterday i was asking the world to congratulate me on my hiring. i definitely made the right choice by taking this job. it’s done much in this past year to get me situated and stable. and, more importantly, it’s allowed me to splurge on new couches, cookware, an iBook, lots of clothes and other assorted goodies.

i love the expression, “work like you don’t need the money.” what bullshit! because if i didn’t need the money, i might stroll in at noon and put my feet up while i used my office line to make long distance phone calls. that’s “working” like you don’t need the money. i work like i need to pay my rent. i work because i prefer lobster to canned tuna. a girl’s gotta eat, and when she’s a single mother of a dog with bad hips, she works because she has to, not because she wants to. with that in mind, i don’t LOVE my job, but i do LIKE it, and that’s enough to keep me there indefinitely.

but back to the review... i was expecting the worst because i’ve spent years conditioning myself to be fatalistic. i walked in a bit nervous and jittery, eager to get to the “merit increase” portion of the program. my boss started by thanking me for the great contribution i’ve made to the company in the past year. i perked up and smiled. he then went on with more thanks and gratitude, talking about my great reputation as someone people like working with because i’m reliable and organized (what? me, organized?!), and that i’ve proved myself to be a quick learner and general badass adored by fans worldwide. then the lights dimmed and he broke into an oddly groovy rendition of m.c. hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This” while i bopped my head approvingly to the beat. even his corporate slacks expanded into parachute pants for the moment.

ok, i’m embellishing that last part, but it had that same feel-good vibe going on. and the feeling good didn’t stop as he told me lots of nice things other people said about me before he announced the smile-inducing percentage that described my merit increase, which is reflected in my next paycheck. the only disappointing part in the litany of lovely adjectives he used to describe me as an employee -- dedicated, hard-working, dependable, diplomatic, good listener -- is that neither he nor anyone else thought i was “funny” or had a “great sense of humor.” i mean, what the fuck?

then we get to the tricky “areas for improvement” portion of the program and i thought to myself, “here it comes.” but that still turned out well, with general suggestions for learning the industry better and becoming a resource to others. and here i was expecting the “we’ve noticed that you don’t ask others about how their weekends went” and “you seem to arrive 10 minutes late every day but still leave at five on the dot.” but nope, only the good stuff.

by the end of it, i’m sure a blush had crossed my face. compliments embarrass me, despite how badly i want to hear them. he ended it by saying, “you fit in so well here. you’re really one of us.” come again? have i joined a corporate circus? how can i be one of them when i’m supposed to be a racy nonconformist? i have my nose pierced, for god’s sake. i was taken aback, but still managed to utter “thank you” through a gritted smile as i left his office.

then it hit me: i’ve morphed into a good employee, the corporate schlub i feared turning into. one step closer to becoming my parents. i have a retirement account with my name on it. i have weekly work meetings i must attend and “action items” i must complete. sometimes the monotony of my days underwhelms me to the point where i feel like stowing myself in the stern of a ship and sailing into a new existence. other times the predictability pleases me immensely.

i don’t mind the real world so much, but the responsibilities of adulthood can be suffocating. turning 30 in june only compounds the matter. oy, these growing pains. a vestige of my once carefree youth would be welcome right about now. on second thought, i think i’d rather have a new car.

To Edit

a few weeks ago i went to a copy editor conference near the airport. i don't know why it's worth mentioning that it was near the airport, but it was near the airport even though no one flew in for it. all the attendees were local copy editors like me, with a handful from orange county (which may as well be China if you live in LA).

the point is that it was a copy editor conference which is curious for a number of reasons. first off, copy editors don't really need a conference -- a fact that made my attendance mandatory. you see, we are a static industry. a semicolon by any other name will still serve the same purpose. the few yearly updates on usage and terminology can be found in the latest edition of whichever style bible we subscribe to. in my case, that would the very cutting-edge AP Stylebook. secondly, we are rarely allowed away from our desks/out of our cages for fear that a wayward comma might sneak into otherwise clean copy. our bosses usually love us dearly and know that no one could do our jobs or, for that matter, would want to do our jobs in our absence. and that's always my most favorite thing to hear from people -- "eww. at work all day you sit around looking for errors in the things you read? i could never do that. it would drive me crazy."

yes indeed, it sometimes drives me crazy. on certain days, it makes my eyes bleed. but on most days, i friggin love it. i really do. i can get a serious hard-on from taking a white page with 12-point, times new roman font and marking it up silly with my red pen. it's a satisfaction that rivals orgasm, like "who's your momma, bitch?" we all want to be the authority on something, and copy editing gives me the ultimate power of the pen, which provides a great veto power. (unless you have to work with pain-in-the-ass writers who think you're worthless because you're correcting their copy, which they think is so damn flawless even though it's crap. but if you got a writer who's open, it's cool.)

it's a glamorous profession, i tell ya. but i should also tell ya that while i'm a fabulous editor, i am a horrible grammarian. i couldn't tell ya why or how a modifier dangles, only that it does dangle like that fleshy, dangling thing in the back of your mouth (also known as an 'uvula.') i also couldn't make a strong case for splitting infinitives or explain the difference between comparatives and superlatives, because i don't know what those things are. all i know is what sounds right to me and that intuition has helped me fake a career in copy editing for the past ten years. but it's always nice to match labels with instincts so i looked forward to this conference as an opportunity to deepen my understanding of my own skill set, which at times feels foreign to me.

unfortunately, that didn't happen at this conference, as i found the instructor pompous and the material remedial. plus, i left early and had my usual bad attitude going on. i did, however, learn a handful of interesting things worth sharing and here they are:

-- writing is full of awful redundencies, so think again before you use the terms: 'lone gunman,' 'safe haven,' and 'whether or not.'
-- 'cement' is wet; 'concrete' is dry.
-- a 'dove' is a beautiful, white bird; use 'dived' as the past tense of 'dive.'
-- 'between' compares two things, while 'among' generally refers to more than two.
-- 'oral' concerns the mouth; 'verbal' deals with words.
-- an 'initialism' is a term like TLC and FBI, where each of the letters is spoken as a letter; an 'acronym' is pronounceable as a word, like NAFTA or NASA.
-- 'begging the question' is actually a term for philosophers that assumes that the premise of an argument assumes the very thing the argument is trying to prove. for example, the question "Have you stopped taking bribes?" begs the questions because the speaker assumes the person was taking bribes. most people use this term when they really mean 'raise the question.'
-- the difference between farther and further can be remembered with this handy mnemonic: the 'a' in 'farther' refers to 'actual' distance; further refers to figurative distance.
-- you 'convince' people of your viewpoint before 'persuading' them into action.
-- the road is 'winding'; the wind is 'windy.'
-- don't ever use 'ironic' when you mean 'coincidental' even though every one else does.

i'll confess that i never even heard the term 'initialism' before attending the conference, so that knowledge alone might have been worth the $12 all-day parking fee at the airport Marriott. i still cannot explain the difference between nonrestrictive and restrictive clauses -- the key to the exciting 'that' vs. 'which' debate -- but maybe next year i'll sit through the whole thing.

i did, however, adore my fellow attendees. all these bookish hair-splitters sitting around celebrating their anal retentiveness. and me, the rebel librarian, with her nose piercing and funky purple shirt. but never did i feel out of place. the whole scene reminded me of that Blind Melon video from several years back, with the girl dancing around in a bee outfit. at first, everyone looks at her askew, but she knows the secret -- she's not crazy, just misunderstood. and that's what copy editors feel like sometimes: dancing bees with bent antennae. writers may hate to hear our buzz, but we turn their crappy copy into golden honey. we make it digestible and sweet.

so it was a blessing to find this conference. it was like entering that park in the video, the one with the tall green grass where other dancers dressed like bees buzz freely and dance without shame. it was awesome to be able to turn to the person beside you and say, "don't you hate it when people say 'the man that' instead of 'the man who'?" only the hear the person say, "oh, i know! that drives me crazy, too. but what's worse is when people confuse 'your' and 'you're.'"

the shame, the shame, people -- and you know who you are.

The Accidental Employee/Psychic

when i haven't been taking pictures lately, i've been working -- A LOT. not sure what happened to change the flavor of my job so drastically. perhaps my coworkers noticed that i was twiddling thumbs and surfing the net most of the day or maybe they saw my untapped genius, because now my nose has been put to the grindstone. i'm now immersed in this crazy project my team at work has to deliver. it's a great 'office space' story: impossible deadlines imposed by the big cheeses upstairs who have no idea how much work is involved in a project of this scope, undermanned and overburdened employees, and oh, make sure the end result is flawless because we work in finance and managing other people's money is serious business.

so suddenly my boss came to me and said, "milla, we need you to do production on this project." i wasn't even sure what that meant, but of course i agreed, because the new girl needs to be the can-do girl. so now i'm doing production (whatever that is) in addition to my usual job as an editor -- two jobs, party people. and still only one salary. the result is one-stressed out new girl. now i'm running meetings and putting together documents, working in spreadsheets. it's, like, a real job and stuff. the good news is that i haven't fucked up (yet), but each day presents another opportunity for it. some days it's like walking into a shit storm. sometimes all at once, my phone will be ringing, email is pinging, people walking into my office, and pages i need to grab off the printer before running into another meeting where i should be saying something meaningful. many times i've felt ready to jump out that 49th floor window. it's overwhelming, exhausting and thoroughly gratifying.

after all this effort, i feel fully invested in seeing this project through to completion. i'm onboard, man. i love my team; we bond by commiserating. and with my responsibilities more varied, my work has become more creative. i get to do some problem-solving, brainstorming and other fun corporate things. the flipside is feeling rundown, putting in overtime and having panicky dreams about work. and this will probably last well into the fall, which is when the project is due (provided we make our deadline).

when all this madness began a few weeks ago, i had been toying with the idea of taking a class. i asked myself, what have i always wanted to learn? it was clear: the tarot -- cus i'm a metaphysical bitch like that. i had studied the tarot on my own a few years back so i'm familiar with the cards and the practice, but i knew only a class could drive it all home. so i did a little web search and found a dude in LA who teaches the tarot to small groups out of his house in hollywood.

i had to miss the first week's lesson because of my new york trip, so the teacher met with me separately to go over what was covered during that week. (lesson one, aptly, was about The Fool card.) i hit it off with Craig right away and spent a good while talking to him about life, spirituality, purpose, etc. i found him to be very terrific and knew i would take much away from the class, which i have. but don't all start bugging me about a reading just yet. i've only been to 3 out of 12 classes, so i'm far from being a pro. (plus, i already have a throng of other peeps who've been baggering me for a reading, so they get first dibs.)

toward the end of lesson one, and after our great conversation and review of The Fool, he asks me to draw a card. we start and end each lesson by drawing cards, which signify the flavor of our energy at that time. i'm shuffling my cards before i draw one and casually joke, "watch me draw The Tower," the card of destruction and catastrophe. that card has always startled me, as it depicts this brick tower on fire, flames shooting out its windows.

what card do i draw? The Tower. no shit. "wow," Craig says, "look how powerful you are." great, i think to myself, my misfortune is the result of a self-fulfilling prophecy. stranger still is that this has happened before -- many times, in fact. i'll think of a card and then draw it from the deck. during our last lesson, i drew the same card both at the beginning and end of class. that was last thursday when i was especially stressed over work. the card was the Four of Swords, the card of hermitism and repose. i figured i should use the weekend to take it easy, but after the universe told me twice in one night that i really needed to take it easy, i knew i had to listen.

that's really what the tarot does. it doesn't reveal the mysteries of one's life because, truthfully, life really isn't all that mysterious. it simply tells you what you already know but are reluctant to admit. it can often reinforce the obvious. and what's obvious is that humans are willful creatures with psychic energies in play. the position of cosmic elements like the moon and sun affects these energies. consider how the moon affects the tides and imagine what it does to the water in your body. if you study astrology -- and true astrology, not those lame daily horoscopes that don't amount to much -- you'll see that it's a science like any other, with rules, contingencies and proven results that are supported by history.

having said that, i don't belive that astrology and tarot are the ultimate gospel. because we are willful creatures, we are the ultimate gospel for our own lives. not everything is predetermined or 'written in the stars.' that's far too passive an approach. g-d's will is our will. those cosmic elements and psychic energies exist, absolutely, but our actions and reactions to them are our own doing. hopefully we'll react the way we should, so we can keep evolving as individuals, but sometimes you have to learn the same lesson twice. and sometimes you'll never learn it despite how many times the universe tries to teach it to you.

and that's what the tarot has begun teaching me -- to listen intently and patiently. it's a spiritual study. the cards are ordered and tell the story of a life's journey, with all its pitfalls, truimphs and lessons. it's highly relatable, leading to one ultimate truth: the answers are already out there and will reveal themselves in due time. certainly i had heard this concept before, but i never truly subscribed to it because i didn't have the patience. i was too busy rushing through life, pushing through each experience in a frenzy. though i'm still far from being cured of my restlessness, i'm rooting more into the present without becoming overly attached to it (if that makes sense). i'm trying to stay centered and nonjudgmental. i'm planning on doing more yoga and meditation.

soon, you'll find me on the mountaintop sitting in the lotus position, all zenlike, and with a big buddha belly you can rub for good luck. i shall say to you in a strange asian accent, "worry not, young grasshopper, for your time will come." you will roll your eyes at me and say, "milla, get over yourself. let's go to the bar and have a drink." and i will get up and follow.

Massaging the Noggin

my brain's been in overdrive lately. good to know it still works. i don't think i've used it much since i finished school last may. can't believe that was almost a year ago. it's been, arguably, my longest hiatus from strenuous brain activity. (or perhaps the four years i spent working for the man between schoolings was the longest?) it seems so easy to allow your mind to atrophy when there's no upcoming exam to measure your new knowledge. and as someone who is inherently lazy, i relied on exams to keep my nose in books. without them, my nose has a tendency to wander with my unfocused, ADD-riddled spirit. they'll just meander around town, hand in hand, hoping to be captivated by something. under the best circumstances, they'll find adventure and intruige and form some half-baked ideas. but eventually -- restlessness, uncertainty, self-doubt. it's the same cyclical story.

but i digress (as all free spirits do). apparently, my brain isn't entirely lubed up and ready to go. it's still (re)acclimating to its newfound focus. it's had plenty of practice in the past few weeks, having been bombarded with all sorts of data. though many would be surprised to hear it, the fascinating world of finance can be quite fascinating. i'm learning up a storm at work about mutual funds, the markets and economics. i'm starting to read the business section daily. i'm starting to understand terms like "market capitalization" and "net asset value." pop quiz: what's the difference between between securities, treasuries and equities?

appropriately, aiding me in my new cerebral pursuit is "mutual funds for dummies." what a five-star read! no, not really, but it's helped buckets. and all this new exposure to finance has gotten me very concerned about my own finances, which have, famously, always been in disarray. but now that i'm becoming so learned (pronounced: learn-NED), i'm going to soon form a masterful plan on how to make bags of money. and if it takes off, i'll write a 'how-to' book or make an informercial selling my "10 easy steps to becoming a rich bitch like me." then i'll quit my job and move myself, juice and my new riches to the tax-exempt isle of bermuda. soon after, you'll see me on 'lifestyles of the rich & famous' lounging on a chaise with a martini in one hand while a cabana boy with soccer thighs stands nearby, peeling me grapes.

or at least that's what i fantasize about when i stare out the office window from the 49th floor. i also wonder what the gritty smog that blankets the LA basin is doing to my lungs. then i'll wonder whether someone brought in a box of doughnuts that morning. then i'll yawn. it's riveting to be me, isn't it?

also lubing my brain is the car hunt, which is well underway. i figure that the best way to start making money is to get myself into considerable debt with a new-car purchase. i've been checking out various financing options and figure that a bank loan will offer the lowest interest rate. i've also been perusing the wonderful edmunds.com, where i found this great piece written by a journalist who went undercover as a car salesman. i think i'll end up buying my car online, maybe from carsdirect.com, instead of getting ripped off by a dealership. g-d bless the internet.

and g-d bless all the other 'to do' items currently up on my dry-erase board. perhaps it's time to finally get to them.