Zee, you mean this shirt?

Random Photo Essay

figured it was time to put some purty pictures up here. no unifying theme, just random shots taken over the past few months.


the hairy eyeball: of course no photo essay would be complete without a shot of the juice, seen here with her boyfriend max.


camera ready: k8 the gr8, whom i hear is moving to los angeles from portland, prepares to snap one.


posers: k8 and i worked together once upon a time in san francisco. we got hired at the exact same time and our new coworkers had trouble telling us apart. five years and two cities later, we're still twins.


the real electra: my daddy's the love of my life.


sibling rivalry: my older sister tatyana, left, vies for my spot as daddy's little girl. (she doesn't stand a chance.)


family matters: my fabulous cousins, roman and gitella, recently abandoned their day jobs to move to portland.


annenbergirlies: some hot chicks i went to school with. from right to left: moran, zahra, malavika, grace and yours truly.


our new commentator: dee, whom i've known since 1997, is inexhaustible, analytical, parenthetical and damn hot.


umm...drunk...yeah: zee and i with the most bizarre hats at some random party. blame it on the vodka.

Let's Get Physical

i found a new boyfriend. his name is jim. we have been having the most physically intense relationship i've ever known. jim always leaves me hot and sweaty, activating muscles i didn't know i had. and he's never too busy to spend time with me. in fact, i can see him whenever i want, and the more comfortable i get with jim, the more often i pay him a visit.

he's pretty forgiving, though he knows when i've cheated. that's when he gets punishing and makes me work harder and sweat more. i don't mind, though. i know he has my best interests at heart and i want to give myself to him even more, but i need to work on building my momentum first. he can really wear me out, making me sleep so well at night. i know he has a certain reputation and is known to many around town. i'm not upset by it, because i understand what they saw in jim. in a way, i wish i was there first, but i'm there now and that's all that matters. this is a relationship built to last.

i pack a special bag whenever i go see jim. it holds the necessities -- change of clothes, some toiletries, a towel. he lets me stay as long as i want, though sometimes the physicality overwhelms me and i have to retreat and regain my energy before taking him on again.

he understands. he's so patient like that. jim doesn't question or judge. he accepts me unconditionally. he makes me want to take better care of myself and to be a better person. but he doesn't say it because he doesn't have to. he just knows and i know too. our communication is telepathic. in just a few short weeks, he's changed my life by injecting me with life. he's given me so much more energy and vitality, reminding me of things i'd forgotten about myself.

plus, he's way hot. jim has soccer thighs, oh yeah. actually, he has many pairs of soccer thighs. only problem is he can be a little stinky, and sometimes too many of his other girlfriends are over at his house when i am, forcing me to wait until he frees up. but he has the best sign over the front door of his house. it reads: YMCA. cool, huh? it always reminds me of that Village People song, with accompanying hand motions.

gym is gonna help me lose 10 pounds. the final 10 i've been trying to lose for the past 10 years. they say those are the hardest. (hands up, how many of you suckers were fooled?)

i must have been the last twentysomething in glamorious los angeles without a gym membership. i would often poo-poo the idea, snickering, "i can't imagine sitting on a bike for 20 minutes and not going anywhere." but now the stationary bike is part of my workout routine. i guess this, coupled with the new corporate job, completes the conformity. i'll get a bar code tattooed on my neck now.

it's not that i was miserable with my appearance, but this office ass (or, as my officemate calls it, the secretary spread) was getting out of hand. my clothes began fitting more tightly. with all the office birthday parties and amateur chefs bringing in baked goods, i began indulging in sugary treats -- which generally don't entice me as much as salty goodies -- but it became habit where i needed my daily sugar fix.

the resulting bulge was unseemly. drastic times indeed. so i joined the Y that's just down the road from my work. and the good news is that work pays 50% of my monthly dues and deducts the rest right outta my paycheck. so i've been seeing gym 3-4 times a week for evening rendezvous where we do cardio and yoga. the best part comes at the end of our dates when we sit in the steam room together and really let the sweat flow. that part alone might be worth the entire membership fee.

so yes, 10 pounds by summer, maybe 15 if i begin to love the burn, which i doubt. i've always hated exercise and as much as i've tried to reprogram my brain into loving it, i would still rather sit on my couch at home and eat bon-bons. yoga is the only activity i've ever taken to, but that's low impact and more to keep my back healthy. the only other things worth sweating for are dancing and sex (and steam room). well, and now the treadmill and stationary bike. reprogram. reprogram.

i'm trying to think of all the benefits, especially how nice it would be to be at my san francisco weight. but it was easier then -- i was younger and traversing the city involved climbing concrete mountains. now i can barely speedwalk a 15-minute mile. now i can't skip meals like i used to. now i'm a nonsmoker and don't enjoy the sped-up metabolism that a breakfast of cigarettes and coffee once provided. now i can actually afford good food and don't have to rely on a diet of top ramen and canned tuna.

but now i also live in los angeles, where you can never be too skinny. it's not that i hate my body. i've always been a curvy girl, and after years of struggling with yo-yo diets and self-esteem crap back in high school, i've finally learned to be comfortable and confident in my own skin. plus, i think every woman, regardless of her appearance, is critical of her own body. that's why i don't read beauty magazines -- they always make me feel ugly and inadequate. and i want to keep my soft shape. just with a bit less padding.

so it's just gym and i. jim and i. he's my main squeeze. and hopefully, with time, discipline and hard work, there will be a little less of me to squeeze.

Living for the Weekend

it's sunday night and i'm already so ready for next weekend. and not because anything spectacular is happening next weekend. i guess it's just them pesky sunday blues. it's them 40 hour work weeks. it's that alarm at 6:30am, with those first 10 minutes of morning spent rubbing my eyes in disbelief. i know, cry me a friggin river. i get no pity. and i know i don't deserve any. and i do like my job -- especially my coworkers, and particularly the ones who are reading this. (are any of you reading this? have you found this blog? no one's said anything to me yet.)

and i really like getting a paycheck, even though i've been throwing down dollars like they're hot potatoes. i think that it'll pass. i hope it'll pass because i'm spending more than i'm making and sometimes on useless crap. it was one thing when i bought a new vacuum to replace my rickety old one, but i also bought a wireless mouse when my old corded one worked just fine. and then there were the Coach sunglasses (they were on sale) and the Gucci frames for my new pair of eyeglasses (also on sale). there was that new shoe organizer and chic bag to hold my yoga mat (not on sale, but both were from target). clothes, too, and a subscription to newsweek. gym membership, organic produce, nice gifts for my parents' birthdays. i've graduated from the 'two-buck chuck' type of wine found at trader joe's to the pricier pickings. i even bought some smoked salmon and now order the seafood when i go out to eat at a nice restaurant, which is often now. it's big pimpin', spending G's.

it's been so wacky i've decided to hold off on my biggest bling purchase -- the new car. that will have to wait until next year, provided my jalopy can keep sputtering on. instead, i'm eyeing a new living room set. i hear that microfiber is semi pet-proof. i'm also eyeing that lady smith gun i've wanted for some time. ooh, and a G5 iMac. and there's more. i have a list somewhere.

when i haven't been living large, i've been laying low and relaxing. weekends are spent catching up on shut-eye and making love to my computer, and i don't mean through all the porn i have on it. i've recently procured some new music and applications (and fully legally -- i respect all copywright laws everywhere... umm... yeah) and have been fiddling around with my new dreamweaver mx for mac, which i hope to one day use for updating the rest of this crap website. i've also been trying to accomplish the three mandates currently up on my dry erase board: Relax, Breathe, Sleep.

there's been rented movies, including 'finding neverland,' which made me cry, and 'meet the fockers,' which made me laugh. and a documentary called 'the corporation,' which made me feel guilty. there was a barbecue at dave's (aka head dork) house and a sleep-over at yogaman's apartment, which left me itchy from his cats. there's been boredom, reflection, amusement and sometimes serenity. and there have been better days. and certainly worse.

So Apt

On Men

things have been calm on the manfront lately. this alternates between pleasing and boring me. it's not that i crave drama, but it'd be nice to get some butterflies swirling inside. as things stand lately, the only thing swirling inside is indigestion. that often happens when i eat too much spinach. but anyhow: the last time the butterflies made an appearance was when i had that great first date in early february. but that turned out to be flash in the pan. the guy and i hung out some after our date and things were moving nicely, but then it just kinda fizzled. it was weird, because the phone calls and meetings became less frequent until they virtually ceased altogether. i want to say it's because work took over, but i don't think that's true. i think we make time for what's important to us. and once the infatuation began its wane, there was no fighting it. he and i both seemed to lose interest. however short-lived, our time together was sweet and relaxed, but there can be no resurrecting it. i've moved on.

well, kind of. i may have moved on from new guy, but not from old guy(s). i've been hanging out with yogaman in recent weeks. maybe that's not exactly accurate. i guess we've been hanging out quite regularly since we "broke up" last december. it's amazing how not living together can improve a relationship and how quickly a man will want to commit to you once he finds out you're seeing someone else. but that's not a commitment i want, yet i'm still so deathly attracted to him, so for the time being we're sustaining what from the outside looks like an open relationship. (i know that ultimately this is unsustainable, but let's focus on the present.) at present, it's working out nicely as we have all the couply benefits of a relationship but without any of the bullshit. it's ideal in many ways. and now that everything's been clearly defined between us, we can spend quality time that doesn't necessarily mean nothing, though it doesn't necessarily mean everything either. i adore him relentlessly, but i don't want to be his girlfriend again. that arrangement is fairly stable, clear and calm.

i've also run into another old guy, once known simply as O. if you recall, he was from the online personals -- the only one from the personals whom i saw somewhat regularly. recently, we discovered our mutual single status and proceeded to have dinner. that turned into yet another dinner.

so now i'm basically dining on my old harem of O and yogaman. but this time i didn't have to go out in search of it; it found me. and being the chic (and impulsive) sheik that i am, i couldn't resist. not sure how frequently or how long O will stay in the picture -- he's always been a wild card -- but i don't mind the deja vu. it was fun before as well, and time and history make it even more comfortable now.

despite how exciting it might sound, this has all been quite mellow. these are men, after all, so they're not angling for marriage and a mortgage. nor am i. and i've found that once you lay out low expectations, they're more than happy to meet them. so my commitment-phobia is working in everyone's favor. monogamy is overrated.

but is it? i wonder if i'm selling myself short. i mean, this whole arrangement is adequate, but it's not extraordinary and, ultimately, i want the extraordinary. maybe i simply haven't met anyone who has wowed and wooed me yet. but maybe i'm not receptive to being wowed. i want the wow, i think, but perhaps i've become too jaded about men. the guys have seen it, said it: how i'm "emotionally unavailable," how i "shut down" and "pull away." i resist meaningful intimacy. i run.

it wasn't always like this. once upon a time, i used to fall in love so easily. i was idealistic and hopeful. i was more open to all sorts of new people and experiences. i gave everything the old college try, and i was a better listener. now, i'm far more cynical. i get annoyed easily. i see men's flaws before their assets, always searching for that instant disqualifier to move them into my "sucks" category. the world is suddenly in black and white. in my book, you're either real or you're not, you're in or you're out. there's no gray, no wonderful nuance to get lost in. i adore you or i ignore you.

how right is this new worldview? is it a function of maturity or of damage? am i now thoughtfully discerning or needlessly judgmental? is this dysfunction? maybe i'm finally being realistic. how many couples do you know that have stayed together happily and forever? sure, it happens for some but definitely not for most. maybe detachment is the best form of self-preservation. maybe there are many different ways to live and avenues for happiness. maybe my fear is allowing opportunities to pass me by.

or maybe i'm overanalyzing this whole fucking thing. i really don't know.

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.

Weak One

one full week of new job has passed and i feel totally exhausted. i don't know how people work 40 hours each week. it's not like i've never had a full-time job before, but it's been almost three years. and now i'm sitting here with the sunday blues, going into the week in anticipation of the weekend.

don't get me wrong. week one at work was very good. i'm just adjusting to this new, structured reality where the alarm goes off at an ungodly 6:15 am, i'm out the door by 7:30am, at my desk by 8am, lunch at noon, then out the office door by 5pm to join the bottleneck of traffic making its way out of downtown los angeles. rat race, i have arrived. a few people have called me this week asking whether i "love" my new job. i mean, who really "loves" their job? unless you're a rock star, work is work.

i do, however, like my new job, and mainly because the people there are so geniunely nice. the environment is positive, upbeat, cooperative. i like my job because my coworkers like their jobs. and given that i'm working for a huge corporation with offices worldwide and thousands of employees, this is amazing. there's much to be said for corporate culture. i also love working downtown. there's something so sexy about it. it's urban and full of energy. i can walk to lunch, which, in los angeles, is hard to come by. i like wearing power suits and heels. if i had my way, my closet would hold nothing but prada. oh no, have i already become a corporate whore? a corporate bore?

it's not that i haven't had a few moments where i'd wish i could sleep in instead and work in my pajamas all day. i guess i'm relishing the newness of it all -- especially the security! no more student scrounging. no more buying the discounted bruised fruit. i can exhale knowing that a paycheck is coming and that i don't have to chase it around the accounting department after they've lost my invoice again. it's a peace i haven't known in ages.

on the flipside, i'm tired all the time. i had no energy for going out this weekend. i'm a grannie now, asleep on my couch by 11pm with the TV still on, remote control slipping out of my hand as drool trickles onto the pillow. i also seem to be eating nonstop lately and can sense the onset of office ass, a condition akin to the freshman 15. and until today, i was quite behind on household chores and responding to phone calls and emails. working takes so much out of you. i know, i know, welcome to the real world. i've heard that all week. i'm sure it'll sort itself out. in the meantime, i'm going to have a glass of wine and ride out the remainder of my sunday night.

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

i guess any day can be considered such. but there is something special about the first day of a new job. it does signify the rest of your life, the start of your career, the beginning of opportunity. that's what tomorrow, monday the 14th, will bring for me -- or at least that's the hope. i've spent the past few weeks preparing for tomorrow and i'm really looking forward to it. that's not to say i didn't have my little freak-out when i was walking around the grove shopping center at noon on a wednesday in the sunshine, wondering why the hell i would give up my flexible freelance lifestyle to enter a predictable office space existence. i feared i could never work my new hours of 8am-5pm five days a week. i worried i could never accept authority or take direction after spending the past three years as my own boss. what did i get myself into?

luckily (and surprisingly), this freak-out was short lived, with those fleeting emotions soon replaced by joy at the thought of predictability, stability, and a signing bonus that will serve as the down payment for a new car i so desperately need. my old car has proved itself to be a fickle fucker in the past few weeks and has sometimes decided to simply not start. i must sit there flipping the bitch switch for about 15 minutes until it deigns me worthy of driving it again. and i will pour no more money into having the mechanics seek out the electrical problem they could never find before. so yes, a new car on the horizon. i'm thinking a Toyota Rav4. that car seems very me. it's big enough to throw juice in the back, gets pretty good mileage for a mini-SUV, and them toyotas have great resale value. anyone know a dealer who can get me a great deal?

so these past few weeks preparing for the first day of the rest of my life have been spent making peace with my old life. i was slowed by a nasty flu that kept me bed-ridden for nearly a week, all feverish and achy. i spent a couple days in big bear frolicking in the snow. i engaged in some retail therapy, buying four pairs of shoes and numerous other pieces for my new professional wardrobe. i watched a lot of reality television and cooked many a meal at home. i got my taxes done and secured a nice return equal to one month's rent. with my landlord, i worked on my backyard and deposited some grass seed that will hopefully spring up in the spring. i did yoga and slept late. the only thing i didn't get to do was take that trip to new york. that has been rescheduled for memorial day weekend in may.

anywho, it was a nice way to go out, leaving me very refreshed and ready for tomorrow. there's also been a boy element going on, and i guess that update is overdue. it's nothing life altering, but there's been movement in that arena -- and initially, too much movement. seems like i went on one little date and was suddenly ushered into dude dramaland. there was some craziness where new guy's psycho ex called me up and talked some shit. then i ran into a psycho ex of my own, who got me so peeved that i threw a drink in his face. then yogaman got weird on me. then i got random emails from old flames looking to reconnect. it was nonstop guy dilemmas and it was a little overwhelming.

thankfully, all has returned to baseline; everything's in its rightful place. at this point, i'm still very single. i am dating -- and not exclusively. and anyone who's dating me knows this because 1) they read my blog, and 2) i'm all about the honesty. and what could be more appealing, really? "commitment-phobic good-time gal seeks similar for fun in the sun." how cool is that? i'm a guy's wet dream.

so the nunnery is no more, though i can still poke on through when i want to be entirely on my own, which is often. i have my cake and i'm eating it (which is the dumbest expression ever, because what else would you do with cake besides eat it?) i still feel relatively detached, footloose and fancy-free, and on the whole all is well. let's hope it maintains.

Sing Blue Silver

wow, wow, wow. i saw the incredible duran duran in concert at the staples center on saturday night. wow, wow, wow. i screamed like a 14-year-old girl. i screamed so loud my stomach muscles hurt the next day.

it was the original lineup that included the three unrelated Taylors. it was their reunion tour used to promote their new album Astronaut (which isn't too shabby). they looked so hot, despite having the fortysomething faces of men who've partied like the rock stars they are. simon lebon is still the swaggering frontman, and he still had it -- so had it. cutie pie roger taylor, the shy one, hid behind his drum set looking all boyish and beautiful. nick rhodes is still the most stylish muthafucka ever. and, of course, my future ex-husband john taylor diddled the bass like the pro he is. i was swooning. i really was.

staples was sold out and the crowd stayed largely on its feet, leaving only after the final notes of "rio" were belted out. the band played most of its old hits and a few songs off their new album. just stunning on every level. a huge video screen behind the band played clips of old videos like "the chaffeur" and "girls on film" -- shit i hadn't seen in ages, but that reminded me what true artists those guys were. they had some serious vision, despite be panned as new wave fluff of the '80s. and i'm not just saying that because john taylor is gorgeous. duran duran is a damn fine band.

in high school i was a diehard duranie, my bedroom walls plastered with the faces of "the fab five." the concert was like entering a time machine, and i'm sure my fellow concertgoers had the same experience. hearing those songs took me back to a past life that's rarely revisited, reminding me of a certain year, hairstyle, moment, outfit. today, those memories seem kinda laughable, though wholly heartwarming.

cheers to D squared!