this is tiberius, the adorable 3-month old french bulldog puppy who lives in my building. he is an eccentric little man and absolutely detests going for walks! he will sit on his bum refusing to budge while his person tugs at his leash.
i heart tiberius.
have you ever noticed that women with horrendous pms (mine is so bad it’s classified as pmdd-premenstrual dysphoric disorder) usually also suffer from migraines and depression? these women are often described as “difficult” or “crazy”. well, that’s me in a nutshell (pun intended). my moods are controlled by my fluctuating hormones, the serotonin levels in my brain and my exposure to vitamin d. if it was up to me, i’d be cheerful and carefree all the time. unfortunately, i don’t have a lot of say in the matter.
it took my several years of research, experimentation with prescription meds and self-diagnosis to figure out the cause of my mood swings. It was either that or be left with just “crazy”. once you figure out your problem, then you’ve got to get the treatment right. for me, this took years. i’ve tried over-the-counter meds, anti-depressants, anti-anxieties, natural remedies, herbs, accupuncture, cupping, psycho-therapy, massage, prozac, effexor, ativan and celexa before settling down with my curent beau, zoloft. zoloft treats my depression, pmdd and anxiety all in one.
but regular exercise is just as important in balancing mood, gaining peace of mind and decreasing pms/pmdd. for the past 4.5 months i have not been able to exercise. this has made a dramatic impact on my emotional and physical well-being and my pmdd has gone through the roof! i recently snaked a parking spot away from an SUV, only to pull out immediately after they drove past me. i had no intention of parking there, just wanted to make sure she didn’t! i have literally hissed at my children. i am avoiding eye-contact with my husband so as not to frighten him. you get the picture.
today it got so bad that i had to escape my own home. i was awoken by liam whining and complaining in my ear about ronan and ronan yelling at the top of his lungs like a madman. i turned to see my husband sleeping like a baby, earplugs nestled in deep, cool fan on full-blast a foot from his face and embraced by a blanket of sweet silence. i felt the familiar sensation of resentment creeping around my shoulders and down my spine. my muscles tensed up and the stiffness in my neck became very tangible. this was all going down before coffee!
i simply could not face the early morning chaos of the boys and the ignorance of my husband. the fight or flight response took over and i chose to flee! i quickly changed out of my pj’s, tossed 2 “yops” in the general vicinity of the boys, grabbed my keys and fled. once outside, i was safe in the comfort of my honda odyssey. i threw on some calming dan mangan and did a quick craig’s list scan on my phone. within moments, i was knee-deep in yard sale therapy! there was a gem of a sale near the cemetery and, as i longingly eyed the huge, unopened boxes marked “women’s clothing”, an angel gave me permission to look through them! score! in my happy place, with the sun shining down upon me and my new duds, life was good again.
it’s almost mother’s day again and many of my sister-moms are wondering what to expect for mother’s day from their husbands/partners. i have read that some husbands are sensitive to the needs and desires of moms on mother’s day. i once received a starbuck’s card from the gas station as my “gift”. it may be the chardonnay talking, but i think it’s time that we, as moms, stop waiting for acknowledgement, praise and validation from others. only moms know what it’s truly like to be a mom, and we understand all the emotional, physical and mental “side effects” of motherhood. only we know how difficult, frustrating and under-appreciated motherthood can be. i don’t think our partners intentionally disappoint us, they simply do not understand the depth of our responsibilities and the effect that has on us as women.
so i propose that we claim mother’s day as our own. we can pat ourselves on the back for a job well-done. we should make arrangements for a massage, a pedicure, a “day off” from parenting, a day to sleep-in, to go see a movie, to have lunch with a friend, to go volunteer, or perhaps a few hours to sit on a park bench and weep openly. whatever makes you happy, you should do on mother’s day because it is YOUR day. don’t leave it up to your husband or kids to celebrate you.
inform your partner of your plan and go do it. do it for yourself. do it for all the time, all the years you have given to your children. do it for your sagging boobs, your flat ass or your deformed vagina. do it because you deserve to be acknowledged. happy mother’s day!
update: my husband and boys pampered me with mimosas, a delicious breakfast, lovely cards and artwork and a gift certificate to my favorite shop-front! i felt very much appreciated by my menfolk.
so andy and i have been seeing this freaky couple every morning on our street. we laugh, we point, we shake our heads at them. they do not notice us, do not look up when i yell “hey! end times!” from our van, and are quite elusive when it comes to being photographed.
i guess living in a state of self-imposed paranoid hysteria takes a lot of focus. we are alive people! the air is fresh, the sun is out, the birds are singing and the fact that you are both wearing creepy surgical masks and gloves is downright offensive to those of us who are trying to have a good time here on planet earth! cut it out wouldya?!”?!
last saturday was cinco de mayo, my favorite cooking day of the year. i love gathering my mexican cookbooks together and leafing through the well-loved pages while deciding what to make. my go-to cookbooks for mexican/southwest are by chefs rick bayless and bobby flay. i like to make their food, eat their food and i respect them as chefs.
as i sat at the dining table surrounded by chef photos and recipes, i imagined what it would be like to have a menage a trois with them. now i don’t know about you, but i have always sensed that rick is gay, especially after seeing a photo of his wife. bobby on the other hand is greasily hetero and a heavy drinker plus the herpes lesion on his lip at the intro to iron chef america is a real turn-off. don’t get me wrong, i adore these chefs’ skills in the kitchen, but, on a personal level, rick and bobby are just not my cup o’ tea.
now, if i was forced at gunpoint to choose two chef partners- based on cooking chops and bedroom appeal- by the time you can blanch asparagus, i’d be sandwiched between anthony bourdain and eric ripert (in chef’s whites of course). we’d share a bottle of good bordeaux (or 3) and some laughs then hit the butcher block. hard. oh, there would be an amuse-bouche, some extra virgin olive oil might be involved, perhaps a light dusting of flour, and, if we were feeling really hungry, maybe even some shaved black truffle. the guys might utter profanities in french before diving into the dessert course: moi!
i know a menage consists of only three, but, if she was into it, nigella could watch by the light of the open refrigerator.
bon appetit!
Visiting my homeland S0-Cal is always a treat. This trip was the best yet. Over the years I have refined my favorite things about L.A. and I don’t pussy-foot around. The first priority is my family; my Mom, my brother Mike, my brother-in-law Bruno, my nephew Zachary and my friend of 40 years, Teresa, who is more like a sister to me. Each of us were so happy to join together as a big family group that we naturally maximized every moment to the fullest. Having the shared experience of losing so many loved ones, we now make sure to express our love and admiration to one another.
Highlights of the trip included 20 hours at Disneyland (!) during which I heard one teenager say to a morbo teenager “Precious do you want a Chimichanga?”. I hugged an African American woman with dreads named “Oracle” shortly after a Casting Director ask Liam if he “wanted to be on TV”. We had no celebrity sightings this trip, but we were treated to the craziest plastic surgery nightmare lady in LAX. She was 100% fake: huge boobs, blonde hair, startled looking eyes, liposuctioned legs, creepy cheek implants, huge cartoon lips, false eyelashes, waaaaay too much make-up, ridiculous outfit with fake Jimmy Choo pumps and fake Louis Vitton luggage. She was like a new species that the boys had never seen and together we gawked at this poor creature as if she was an animal in the zoo.
The following scene would have annoyed me when I lived down there, but I absolutely adored waiting for 15 minutes in the customer service line at Target! I was able to listen to a black woman refuse to show her ID for a return. Though she had the ID (but no receipt) she refused to show ID because the posted sign did not state that an ID was necessary. She had serious attitude was being a difficult customer for the joy that’s in it. Her “black-cent” was music to my ears. Living in Canada, I miss the African American vernacular and the L.A dialect is something very special indeed.
Next on the LA List: Food! We had to get to In-n-Out Burger for double-doubles as they are the best burgers anywhere and hold a special place in my heart (no cholesterol-related pun intended). When my Dad was dieting, he used to take me on secret missions to In-n-Out Burger, unbeknownst to my health-conscious Mom.
If you want comfort food, you must talk to my brother Mike. He knows where to get the best in town and I am never disappointed with his choices. He too loves family-friendly, nostalgic places with history and charm. Dinah’s Family Restaurant is such a place. It’s been around since 1959 and has the best friend chicken EVER. Monday and Thursday nights are “all you can eat” and we did just that.
To my delight, while there, a well-dressed older black couple sat down at the table across from us. They held hands and said grace together before diving into their chicken. Our waiter’s name tag read: Jesus and he had a thick Mexican accent. I sure do miss Black & Mexican people. We have a few up here, but being back in LA in their midst just felt like home.
Of course Mexican food is a must and Mike took us to his favorite old-school family-style place called Hacienda. It was charmingly dark, crowded with families and teenagers and had great personality. The food was served on huge oval plates and the margaritas were sold by the pitcher. I was in heaven. As a child and teen, My Dad would take the six of us to places like this at least once a week. Now Mike had brought us to this hidden gem and we were filled with nostalgia from our childhood. Thanks Mikey!
I love my family and I love California.
this is an actual dude that i photographed on my last visit to so-cal a few years ago. it was taken at the manhattan beach pier. “sage or seven” as i am sure he was called, never even noticed that i was taking his photo because he was too busy thinking “dude, that is an awesome swell”. these dudes (and dudettes) actually exist and, in general, surfers are some of the coolest peeps i have ever known. they have a connection with the ocean and they are generally grounded, mellow and respectful of our planet. their priority is their time with the powerful and beautiful ocean and girlfriends, school, jobs and responsibilities must take the back seat. in my youth, i sat many an hour on the sand watching my boyfriend(s) do their thing with the pacific. it is a respectable hobby, but it can get cold, boring and a bit frustrating sitting on the beach waiting while knowing full-well that you are his second priority after the waves. i should have learned to surf myself, but never did. i love the chilled-out vibe, the free hugs and the flip-flop mentality of so-cal. peeps like sage/seven are one of the reasons i miss california so much. you don’t see that dedication to or passion for a force of nature everywhere.
tomorrow we fly to l.a. to visit my mom, brother, brother-in-law, nephew and dear friends. it is still my home, although now, after living in canada for over 8 years, i am a bit of a tourist. over the years, my tastes have been refined and i visit only my favorite locations in the sunshine state. we will point and laugh at the plastic people and explain to the boys that they are the profoundly insecure and lost people of cali. we will visit disneyland and marvel at the colossal scope and girth that the human body can attain. we call these folks “morbo”.
we will watch the waves crash dramatically on the shore every day and night in all their sensual beauty. we shall feast on authentic mexican food and delight in the intense yet simple ingredients of the earth: corn, lime, beans, chilies, savory meats, cilantro, ripe tomatoes and delectable california avacados. we will visit my favorite place in la, the hollywood farmer’s market and i will seek out my favorite shrimp po’ boy on crusty french baguette with spicy sauce, insanely thin slices of lemon, rind and all. and we shall savor in the colorful mosaic of the eclectic california residents, who hail from every corner of the world. every tone of skin imaginable, all mingling together and sharing their cultures. of course we will see the gangsters, the skaters, the trannies, the cholas and the multitude of the insane people who had originally come to so-cal to follow their dreams, only to become disillusioned. this will be buffered by visits to in -n-out-burger, gourmet food trucks (like the border grill truck), roscoe’s fried chicken and waffles and the amazing “show” that is an endless parade of humanity seeking out the plentiful sun.
this is so-cal and it’s mi barrio. i love it all in all of its glory and i can’t wait for the boys to see it again now that they are older. they are bringing their skateboards and i plan to teach them the subtle so-cal head nod greeting.
today andy and i celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. a decade ago we eloped to kauai and were married on the beach in a magical place that smelled of flowers and the ocean. 2 weeks later we were back from paradise having a big party with our friends and delicious hawaiian food and mai-tais.
today we have 2 beautiful boys and we’ve lived together in 3 countries. we’ve laughed a lot and cried a bit too. i can’t say that marriage has always been easy, but i can say that it is worth the effort. i am proud of our accomplishment and our commitment to each other and our family.
the traditional 10 year wedding gift is tin or aluminum. hmmm…not sure what to do with that information? that seems so old-fashioned and a hunk of tin or aluminum doesn’t sound very fun. if i had to choose a practical 10-year gift that best symbolizes our decade together, i suppose it would be two valiums and a bottle of veuve cliquot champagne. the bubbles to celebrate all the adventure and fun we’ve had and the valium to comfort us through the stressful times that all marriages must endure. pretty romantic, eh?!
cheers andy! we made it! i love you my huz.
he may be only 8 years old, but i have a suspicion that ronan may be a “total babe” (ala tiger-beat magazine) when he gets a bit older. the best part is that he has no inkling that he’s as cute as a button. he’s got his dad’s ultra-blue eyes and alabaster skin that even david bowie would envy.
i enjoy meeting strangers and chatting with them for the joy that’s in it. but it’s also how i gauge the health of humanity, the condition of our society. one of my favorite things to do is to visit yard sales. lucky for me i seem to have a natural yard-sale mojo which has guided me to some brilliant gems over the years.
when you visit a yard sale, you get to know your neighbors or see how the other side lives in say…shaughnessy. people from all walks of life, with little or nothing in common come together with a common goal: to find that special something from our past whose memory lingers on the tips of our tongues. that intangible something that will somehow fill the void within us and make us whole again. either that or a gaudy leg lamp with tassels on the shade like the one from “a christmas story”.
these strangers bring out their now unwanted, once cherished stuff. seeing these things, touching them, smelling them gives me a sense of the seller’s personality and where they came from. i make assumptions about these people and feel as if i know a little something about them. i once went to a yard sale around 12th and windsor and the young guy with the handlebar moustache had his wife’s fertility monitor out for sale. now that’s instant intimacy with a total stranger. seeing no children around, i felt a sadness for the young couple and silently wished them good luck in their dream of having a baby.
my decades of yard-sale shopping, chatting with, and observing people has enlightened me. people in general are good at heart. we are friendly and want to connect with other people. most of us want to do the right thing, to practice peace, integrity and to save the world. we care. yet, many of us are profoundly lonely. even more of us are paralyzed with ignorance and fear. some of us are definitely damaged, but those ones don’t usually have yard sales.
i am also a fan of craig’s list for the same reasons. it’s a fantastic way to recycle goods and meet peeps. i have been using craig’s list for years. i have given away as much stuff as i have acquired. it’s been a 99% positive experience. the one time i found myself driving my van into a dark and sketchy underground parking garage in kits to meet with sergei, a disheveled man with his fly half-way down was my own mistake. i should have known that a man named sergei with a thick russian accent, who was protectively cradling his laptop, was born with a cigarette in his mouth and would deny that fact that to his death. despite the obvious pungent and stale odor of cigarette smoke in his dank apartment, he insisted vehemently that he did not smoke and that his ottoman would not smell of this non-existent smoke. “good day sir”.
last night i responded to an ad for a “free orange armchair”. apparently i was the first to respond and when i drove up to the upscale house on the west side this morning to pick it up, it was on the front porch smiling at me. it was meant to be. he is a sexy persimmon number from the 60′s and in stellar condition. the thing is pristine, high quality textured vinyl and has a great vintage personality. he actually came from a non-smoking home. i have no idea why this person “kcdimsum” would give up such a chair, but it proves that a) there are still kind, generous people out there who believe in karma like i do, and b) that i still have “it” when it comes to acquiring great finds! thank you kcdimsum!
what this chair and kcdimsum’s kindness symbolizes to me is that we, as a society, might still have enough good in us to conquer all the bad. if we all were to share more, to trust more, to give away more stuff, to show kindness to strangers, to be generous and less possessive, to buy, trade or give away used goods instead of buying new, and to be more social with our neighbors (like having more yard sales!) we might just be able to save this planet we have all grown to love.
here’s liam enjoying my score!
