I thought since leaving the office job and becoming a massage therapist, I would test out my natural rhythm to see what it really wants to do. Having grown up as a teenager with small chil’ren in the house who are noisy at all times, and then working the office job from the age of 18 on, I have never known what it is like to sleep until you’re done sleeping except on weekends (when I might be recovering from a particularly stressful week or from partying) and most vacations (when I might be screwed up by jet leg or following a schedule of sight-seeing or on a trip with MPs who get my ass up in the morning). I have always conformed to the schedules of the dreaded MPs who seem to set the clock for the rest of the world.
Until now. See, most massages happen later in the day. Who wants a massage in the morning? It’s just . . . wrong. You want to roll off the table and go take a nap or have some wine or have someone brush your hair while you talk about astrology or whatever. You don’t want to bounce off the table and be a productive spaz. So this leaves my schedule open in the early part of the day to get up whenever my body wakes me, do some yoga, go for a walk, have my coffee, (so spoiled by Italian coffee now), and do things like create shite for this blog. So I don’t set an alarm.
Some nights I am enthralled with a book and won’t get to sleep until 1:00 or later. Some nights, especially if I have had several appointments that day, I am conked out by 10:30. Guess what I found out? For the past three weeks, I will sleep until 9:00 every morning if allowed to do so. No matter what time I went to bed. It’s almost comical. And it’s so precise. It is always between 9:00 and 9:15, no later, no earlier. One recent morning I awoke on my own, turned and looked at the clock which read 8:55, and was like, WTF??? That ain’t right! I went back to sleep for a minute and then got up to start the day.
What I have learned from having this knowledge is the following:
1) Some people are just naturally productive and better able to absorb information in the later part of the day. That’s just me. And that’s fine. It is no reason to feel guilty and doesn’t make me a slacker.
2) Sleeping until your body wants to wake up is goooooood. It automatically builds energy into your day because you are truly rested. I love the crap out of that feeling.
3) I better enjoy it NOW. Since Valley Girl and her hub are already looking to add Valley Baby to the mix, my days of natural slumbering bliss are numbered. Unless of course, Valley Baby gets my late-ass genes and is happier to stay up with me doing breast milk shots and watching Big Love while Daddy goes to bed at 10:00. Then we could get up at 9:00 the next day and get busy eating and pooping and sleeping some more.
Hey, it could happen.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Sad Sack, Party of One? Your Table Is Ready.
Okay you guys, here it is. I know I have been a bad neglectful parent to this baby blog lately and I want you to know why.
Your girl has been stricken with the worst depression since Sex And The City went off the air. And yes! I am aware of the movie in the works and yes! You better believe my ass will be throwing a huge party for that occasion, complete with cosmopolitans, high heels, and lots of chicks. In fact, ONLY chicks. But that’s down the line, and that is IF this dream miracle of a movie ever actually does come to fruition. You know how Hollywood is.
What’s been happening with me is far more sinister and unexpected. And I think I have it figured out after much parsing out of emotions, dissecting, analyzing and actualizing by some key friends the likes of which would turn a codebreaker for the CIA green with envy. To put it in brief terms, my world has been turned upside down. And I am just now figuring out how to put back in their place the fragments of my psyche that have shaken loose.
See, for nearly twenty years of my life, all I have known is the comfort and predictability of office life. Sitting behind a desk. Though it has gone radically against my natural biological grain, my daily life has involved, as long as I can remember being an adult, getting up early (ick!), hosing off and getting cute fast, jumping in the car, fighting traffic to the office, getting to the office, getting caffeinated and then following instructions all day, interfacing with a large variety of people (some friends, some annoying gossip-mongers, mostly butthole lawyers) – LUNCH BREAK – trudging through the rest of the day until 5:30 when I get to fight traffic for an hour or more, get home, then have a life with my relationship, dogs, family, friends, etc., anticipate Fridays, vacations and holidays and there you have it.
Now, things are different. Leaving the legal business to become a full-time massage therapist is something I have dreamt about doing for a long time. And things aligned in my life just so to allow me the opportunity to do that. But the ensuing feelings of being lost and starting over kind of swallowed me whole and I was so not ready for that. I had anticipated cartwheels and sunshine and unicorns at this point, not feelings of sadness and loss, sleeping too much but not very well, drinking too much, lack of interest in the usual things that bring me joy, lack of energy to even be around people. It’s been rough. And frustrating. It is in my nature to be happy and joyful, and every morning I would wake up and go “WTF? This shitty feeling is STILL HERE????”
Now don’t get me wrong: the nature of my job now is everything I thought it would be. It is rewarding in a profound way that I have never before known by pushing paper around behind a desk all day. I am helping to relieve people’s pain and suffering and stress, and I have a unique perspective on it since I, like many of them, sat behind a desk for so long and know where that particular brand of stress slithers into the body and sets up residence. But guess what? I am still new at this. Not only are my appointments sporadic and the nature of my job now very physical and tiring, making it difficult to plan my time with any kind of efficiency, but I am no longer the best at what I do. Can you say ego blow?
At my previous jobs, I am used to being the girl who works circles around everybody else and still has room left in my multi-tasking repertoire to solve my girlfriends’ problems, plan dinner for tonight, write a few blog posts, research some obsessive health issue of concern that I must get to the bottom of, make plans for the weekend and then still have time leftover to read Go Fug Yourself.
Now, I am the newbie. I am not the most experienced, efficient therapist in the house. You can’t multi-task while doing a massage – it is a solid hour of pure focus and quiet. Add to this the fact that I am starting at the bottom as far as earnings, which is also a huge blow to the ego. I’m used to being a major contributor to the household, dammit! Not so anymore. It’s like being in my early 20s all over again, that feeling of insecurity, of constantly worrying what other people think of you, if you’re DOING it right. I hated that shit then – I have to re-live it now?
I think there is also some post-wedding-honeymoon-time-of-my-life letdown going on too. You’ve seen the pictures – it really WAS that awesome. But now the anticipation of the whole thing is over and it will never happen again. I will never get married in Italy again, that was IT. And it was so great. What could possibly top that?
And then one recent Saturday night, sometime after my 12th beer or so (I’m exaggerating, but it was up in the high numbers I’m sure), it dawned on my drunk self that I was drinking to get away from feeling like shit. And that is the WRONG reason to drink, my friends. You drink to have fun, to celebrate something, to be with friends, to have a delicious wine with dinner or a funky cocktail in a fun bar. You don’t drink to escape. So I gave myself a break from the alcohol. It’s been eight days, and will likely last awhile since people keep telling me my skin looks fabulous. I can’t help but think it’s because of being off the sauce.
And then the other day whilst facing a mountain of dishes in the kitchen, I blasted “99 Problems” by Jay-Z and started to dance around the kitchen. And like a little kid peeking into a room where he sees Mommy and Daddy are kissing, I giggled sheepishly at myself and realized this is something the normal me would do. Am I coming back? Every day since that moment has told me “yes”.
I wanted to share this with you because I didn’t want you to think I have forgotten about you – I have been wallowing and unsure of how to even tell you this stuff. But I also wanted to share this with you because I want the nature of this blog to be more personal. I love that you are with me on this journey. Now that I have the time and space to focus more, you will be seeing more postings from me, I promise. And I hope you will keep reading. Dealing with problems, especially the ones we can’t see, is part of life, and I do still have a lust for it, even when it’s difficult to feel that lust.
Speaking of lust, The Husband has been so supportive and understanding through all of this and I know my ass has NOT been easy to live with. And for that, I am supremely grateful. To quote Jay-Z, “I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one.”
Your girl has been stricken with the worst depression since Sex And The City went off the air. And yes! I am aware of the movie in the works and yes! You better believe my ass will be throwing a huge party for that occasion, complete with cosmopolitans, high heels, and lots of chicks. In fact, ONLY chicks. But that’s down the line, and that is IF this dream miracle of a movie ever actually does come to fruition. You know how Hollywood is.
What’s been happening with me is far more sinister and unexpected. And I think I have it figured out after much parsing out of emotions, dissecting, analyzing and actualizing by some key friends the likes of which would turn a codebreaker for the CIA green with envy. To put it in brief terms, my world has been turned upside down. And I am just now figuring out how to put back in their place the fragments of my psyche that have shaken loose.
See, for nearly twenty years of my life, all I have known is the comfort and predictability of office life. Sitting behind a desk. Though it has gone radically against my natural biological grain, my daily life has involved, as long as I can remember being an adult, getting up early (ick!), hosing off and getting cute fast, jumping in the car, fighting traffic to the office, getting to the office, getting caffeinated and then following instructions all day, interfacing with a large variety of people (some friends, some annoying gossip-mongers, mostly butthole lawyers) – LUNCH BREAK – trudging through the rest of the day until 5:30 when I get to fight traffic for an hour or more, get home, then have a life with my relationship, dogs, family, friends, etc., anticipate Fridays, vacations and holidays and there you have it.
Now, things are different. Leaving the legal business to become a full-time massage therapist is something I have dreamt about doing for a long time. And things aligned in my life just so to allow me the opportunity to do that. But the ensuing feelings of being lost and starting over kind of swallowed me whole and I was so not ready for that. I had anticipated cartwheels and sunshine and unicorns at this point, not feelings of sadness and loss, sleeping too much but not very well, drinking too much, lack of interest in the usual things that bring me joy, lack of energy to even be around people. It’s been rough. And frustrating. It is in my nature to be happy and joyful, and every morning I would wake up and go “WTF? This shitty feeling is STILL HERE????”
Now don’t get me wrong: the nature of my job now is everything I thought it would be. It is rewarding in a profound way that I have never before known by pushing paper around behind a desk all day. I am helping to relieve people’s pain and suffering and stress, and I have a unique perspective on it since I, like many of them, sat behind a desk for so long and know where that particular brand of stress slithers into the body and sets up residence. But guess what? I am still new at this. Not only are my appointments sporadic and the nature of my job now very physical and tiring, making it difficult to plan my time with any kind of efficiency, but I am no longer the best at what I do. Can you say ego blow?
At my previous jobs, I am used to being the girl who works circles around everybody else and still has room left in my multi-tasking repertoire to solve my girlfriends’ problems, plan dinner for tonight, write a few blog posts, research some obsessive health issue of concern that I must get to the bottom of, make plans for the weekend and then still have time leftover to read Go Fug Yourself.
Now, I am the newbie. I am not the most experienced, efficient therapist in the house. You can’t multi-task while doing a massage – it is a solid hour of pure focus and quiet. Add to this the fact that I am starting at the bottom as far as earnings, which is also a huge blow to the ego. I’m used to being a major contributor to the household, dammit! Not so anymore. It’s like being in my early 20s all over again, that feeling of insecurity, of constantly worrying what other people think of you, if you’re DOING it right. I hated that shit then – I have to re-live it now?
I think there is also some post-wedding-honeymoon-time-of-my-life letdown going on too. You’ve seen the pictures – it really WAS that awesome. But now the anticipation of the whole thing is over and it will never happen again. I will never get married in Italy again, that was IT. And it was so great. What could possibly top that?
And then one recent Saturday night, sometime after my 12th beer or so (I’m exaggerating, but it was up in the high numbers I’m sure), it dawned on my drunk self that I was drinking to get away from feeling like shit. And that is the WRONG reason to drink, my friends. You drink to have fun, to celebrate something, to be with friends, to have a delicious wine with dinner or a funky cocktail in a fun bar. You don’t drink to escape. So I gave myself a break from the alcohol. It’s been eight days, and will likely last awhile since people keep telling me my skin looks fabulous. I can’t help but think it’s because of being off the sauce.
And then the other day whilst facing a mountain of dishes in the kitchen, I blasted “99 Problems” by Jay-Z and started to dance around the kitchen. And like a little kid peeking into a room where he sees Mommy and Daddy are kissing, I giggled sheepishly at myself and realized this is something the normal me would do. Am I coming back? Every day since that moment has told me “yes”.
I wanted to share this with you because I didn’t want you to think I have forgotten about you – I have been wallowing and unsure of how to even tell you this stuff. But I also wanted to share this with you because I want the nature of this blog to be more personal. I love that you are with me on this journey. Now that I have the time and space to focus more, you will be seeing more postings from me, I promise. And I hope you will keep reading. Dealing with problems, especially the ones we can’t see, is part of life, and I do still have a lust for it, even when it’s difficult to feel that lust.
Speaking of lust, The Husband has been so supportive and understanding through all of this and I know my ass has NOT been easy to live with. And for that, I am supremely grateful. To quote Jay-Z, “I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one.”
Nail, Meet Head
My acupuncturist rules. He periodically sends out little newsletters giving free health advice if he sees a pattern of inquiry about a specific subject coming up in his practice. But his most recent newsletter was more introspective and personal, and he had this to say, which basically sums up my viewpoint exactly. Next time you are in Encino or West L.A., give Dr. Randy Martin a shout-out.
"Of course I share with all of you, my prayers for a safer world, where we won't have the constant reminders of war and terrorism, which we have even today. And I pray for less divisiveness among our politicians, rather than the huge polarization we see among Americans who happen to identify more as conservative or liberal. I really feel these artificial labels merely work to isolate and overly dramatize our common issues. In reality, we all have a mixture of values, since we, as human beings are very complex. Wouldn’t it be nice if our talk show hosts, our political commentators and politicians spent as much energy on drawing us closer together, by pointing out commonalities, rather than further polarizing us by overly dramatizing our differences and making the "other" seem wrong or evil."
"Of course I share with all of you, my prayers for a safer world, where we won't have the constant reminders of war and terrorism, which we have even today. And I pray for less divisiveness among our politicians, rather than the huge polarization we see among Americans who happen to identify more as conservative or liberal. I really feel these artificial labels merely work to isolate and overly dramatize our common issues. In reality, we all have a mixture of values, since we, as human beings are very complex. Wouldn’t it be nice if our talk show hosts, our political commentators and politicians spent as much energy on drawing us closer together, by pointing out commonalities, rather than further polarizing us by overly dramatizing our differences and making the "other" seem wrong or evil."
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Wedding Photos
I know, I know, I am SO long overdue about getting these up here. Some of the photos had to be fixed (tiny spot on the lens) and our awesome photographer is re-sending them now. But here are a few of my favorites. You can see for yourself why it was depressing coming back home....
Thursday, June 28, 2007
There Is Wisdom In Uncertainty
OMG you guys. This is so much harder that I thought it would be.
And because it is taking me so much tortuous time to to correct my spelling errors this time... I had better leave it at that.
And because it is taking me so much tortuous time to to correct my spelling errors this time... I had better leave it at that.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Change Is Good
Well guys, today was it. Today was a few things, actually.
1) Today was the first day I posted a blog whilst under the influence.
2) Today was the last day of my legal career. I've been kinda keeping it a secret since I wanted things all nice and clean and done before I broadcast the news to the world, but guess what? After 13 long, long, LONG years in the legal business, I gave my notice two weeks ago, and today was my last day. I will be starting this Friday as a staff massage therapist working for a really great chiropractor in Northridge. And I'm really excited about it. Hence, see #1 above. The wine has been steadily consumed by your Valley Girl since about 5:00 today. And no sign of slowing down.
3) Today was the first time I walked away from a deliciously bad movie. I know!! What is happening to me? I'm sitting in bed, pillows propped all around me just so, rolling around on the tempurpedic in a nice shiraz-induced buzz when, to my total delight and serendipitous (I know, can you believe I can still spell in this condition?) glee, I happened upon a showing of Basic Instinct 2 on HBO. People, this has GOT to be the QUEEN OF BAD MOVIES, right? I mean, don't get me wrong -- I LOVED the first one. I watch it every chance I get, even more than Showgirls. I have it on DVD so it is at my disposal. I loved the character of Catherine Trammel. I loved how Michael Douglas was so her bitch. I loved how somebody actually had the balls to make a movie about a female sociopath who was also beautiful and smart and sexual. And I loved all the drama surrounding the writer of that movie (OMG people, if you ever get the chance, read Hollywood Animal by Joe Eszterhas. Can't. Put. Down. I'm just sayin'. And just because I can spell whilst a bit tipsy, doesn't mean I won't be abusing my usual parentheticals.) And though I was bitter that they actually went ahead and made the whole dumb sequel of one of my fave movies of all time (I have such a love/hate relationship with sequels: I believe they are the movie version of money-grubbing whores, with the exception of Aliens and a scant handful of others that managed to surpass the originals, but like, you idiot producers! Just let the original be the original and let it go for the love of film nerds! But I suppose if they did just let it go all the time, I would not have the supreme gorgeosity that is Aliens, so.... ), Basic Instinct 2. It got so skewered in the press, had a reportedly horrid script and even more horrid acting -- my God! In a shiraz-induced, change-of-career-little-crazy-let's-stay-up-late-and-par-TAY! wonkety-wonk, what's not to love with that mix?
But . . . I just couldn't get into it.
I tried. I tried so hard. I was all sitting up in my Heiress-On-Pills-So-Ready-To-Bash-You pose, wine in hand, sneer on face, nose in a wrinkle. And I just couldn't keep it up for the love of bad film. The story, so lame. The acting, so tired, so not-trashy-inspired. It was like ol' Sharon just went "People, I'm just killing time here until my next cabana boy massage, but sure, I'll text message in Catherine Trammel for you if it makes you randy, baby."
And so I found myself over Basic Instince 2 before it had even begun. I even walked out in the middle of one of the supremely choreographed sex scenes.
And sneaked off into the other room to tell you about it.
Oh, and guess what? We got the wedding photos. And since I am in NO STATE right now to download them, I thought I would give you this one teaser that I love so much:
1) Today was the first day I posted a blog whilst under the influence.
2) Today was the last day of my legal career. I've been kinda keeping it a secret since I wanted things all nice and clean and done before I broadcast the news to the world, but guess what? After 13 long, long, LONG years in the legal business, I gave my notice two weeks ago, and today was my last day. I will be starting this Friday as a staff massage therapist working for a really great chiropractor in Northridge. And I'm really excited about it. Hence, see #1 above. The wine has been steadily consumed by your Valley Girl since about 5:00 today. And no sign of slowing down.
3) Today was the first time I walked away from a deliciously bad movie. I know!! What is happening to me? I'm sitting in bed, pillows propped all around me just so, rolling around on the tempurpedic in a nice shiraz-induced buzz when, to my total delight and serendipitous (I know, can you believe I can still spell in this condition?) glee, I happened upon a showing of Basic Instinct 2 on HBO. People, this has GOT to be the QUEEN OF BAD MOVIES, right? I mean, don't get me wrong -- I LOVED the first one. I watch it every chance I get, even more than Showgirls. I have it on DVD so it is at my disposal. I loved the character of Catherine Trammel. I loved how Michael Douglas was so her bitch. I loved how somebody actually had the balls to make a movie about a female sociopath who was also beautiful and smart and sexual. And I loved all the drama surrounding the writer of that movie (OMG people, if you ever get the chance, read Hollywood Animal by Joe Eszterhas. Can't. Put. Down. I'm just sayin'. And just because I can spell whilst a bit tipsy, doesn't mean I won't be abusing my usual parentheticals.) And though I was bitter that they actually went ahead and made the whole dumb sequel of one of my fave movies of all time (I have such a love/hate relationship with sequels: I believe they are the movie version of money-grubbing whores, with the exception of Aliens and a scant handful of others that managed to surpass the originals, but like, you idiot producers! Just let the original be the original and let it go for the love of film nerds! But I suppose if they did just let it go all the time, I would not have the supreme gorgeosity that is Aliens, so.... ), Basic Instinct 2. It got so skewered in the press, had a reportedly horrid script and even more horrid acting -- my God! In a shiraz-induced, change-of-career-little-crazy-let's-stay-up-late-and-par-TAY! wonkety-wonk, what's not to love with that mix?
But . . . I just couldn't get into it.
I tried. I tried so hard. I was all sitting up in my Heiress-On-Pills-So-Ready-To-Bash-You pose, wine in hand, sneer on face, nose in a wrinkle. And I just couldn't keep it up for the love of bad film. The story, so lame. The acting, so tired, so not-trashy-inspired. It was like ol' Sharon just went "People, I'm just killing time here until my next cabana boy massage, but sure, I'll text message in Catherine Trammel for you if it makes you randy, baby."
And so I found myself over Basic Instince 2 before it had even begun. I even walked out in the middle of one of the supremely choreographed sex scenes.
And sneaked off into the other room to tell you about it.
Oh, and guess what? We got the wedding photos. And since I am in NO STATE right now to download them, I thought I would give you this one teaser that I love so much:
Friday, June 15, 2007
The Million Dollar $16 Dress
Remember the dress I told you about that I wore all over Italy? The one from Charlotte Russe I bought for $16?
Dudes!!! I busted that dress out again today for the first time since the trip. It is the magic dress! I stopped counting the compliments after, oh, number 32 that I heard the phrase "Wow, LOVE your dress!" from co-workers, complete strangers, and the long, not-so-subtle stares of two random dudes on the street. [I felt like saying to one of them, "I know, can you believe they're real?" But thought better of it and went on my way.]
Who says quality has to be expensive? Some of the cutest jewelry I have ever owned has come from Target. I'm just sayin'.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Like, Oh My Gawd!
You absolutely MUST watch this video on YouTube of Moon Unit Zappa performing her hit single "Valley Girl" on Solid Gold, which I used to watch religiously for the Solid Gold Dancers. O. M. G. It is friggin' hilarious. Pay particular attention to the headbands and the leg warmers.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Italy Photos
Since Blogger kinda blows with the whole downloading photos thing, please go here to view my Italy photos as a slideshow, if you are interested. There are no wedding photos yet, but I promise I will get those up ASAP when I receive them.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
From Germany, With Love
I am finally back, people. Did you miss me and my rantings?
Such happiness! Such inquisitiveness! Such affectionateness! In spite of his parents constantly correcting him as to my name, he insisted on calling me "Frau"-- woman. He cracked my shit up.
Lots of the buildings have really cool things like a little nekkid man, shouting obscenities down from above an archway. Oh look, here's one now:
This would be looking down on the town, where you can see the prevalent use of the architectural style known as "Early Super Cute".
This is at a church in Wurzburg, the beautiful little town where I was born.
It was hard to leave my friends and little Tobi, but we promised we would get together with them again in the next year or so, hopefully at the Grand Canyon. Meanwhile, we had a plane to catch to Venice.....
The short version is this: My God I had an incredible time. I am changed. I am inspired. I am rested but exhausted. And I am now officially married to the most wonderful man ever put into existence and that, my friends, makes me ecstaticly, ridiculously happy.
I figured the only way I would be able to cover all this with any sort of coherent meaning would be to do it in shifts, although you will have to wait a couple more weeks for wedding photos since our guy, Domenico, is on Italy time. So in the meantime, we will have to make due with all the rest. Let me start with Germany.
As many of you know, I have a "German Family". Many many years ago, when I was but a wee embryo, my parents, who were living in Germany, got into a car accident. Their Bug collided with another Bug on the train tracks, and thus a beautiful friendship was born. A year after I was born, Rose gave birth to a daughter, Ruth, who was to become my pen pal from the age of 5. Until the trip, we had actually only hung out twice -- once at my pad in Venice when I took her and her then-boyfriend to see the freaks, and once at her pad in Germany, when they took me all over that beautiful place. I haven't seen her in nine years. Derek and I flew into Frankfurt in order to pay them a special visit before the wedding, and I got to meet her super adorable little boy, Tobias. To say I became attached would be an understatement. I mean.... just look at him:
Such happiness! Such inquisitiveness! Such affectionateness! In spite of his parents constantly correcting him as to my name, he insisted on calling me "Frau"-- woman. He cracked my shit up.
This is Schweinfurt, where Ruth and her family live. It is beautiful and charming and you could eat it with a spoon. We bought some Belgian chocolates here, and let's just say I am now completely spoilt by the beauty that is Belgian. I poo-poo on your Ghirardelli's.
Here is Ruth's hub and my hub, discussing manly things as we walk through cobblestone streets.
I'm super fancy with my camera angles sometimes.
This is Rothenberg (or if you are German, Rottenberg). It is a medieval town, full of lots of medieval things.
Lots of the buildings have really cool things like a little nekkid man, shouting obscenities down from above an archway. Oh look, here's one now: This is in front of the Crime and Punishment Museum, where we saw all sorts of medieval torture devices and techniques. So don't eff with me, man. I have been schooled in the ways of putting the hurtin' on people, medieval style.
See this dress? I bought it at Charlotte Russe in the Topanga Mall for like, $16. Get used to looking at it. I wore it all over Italy. Of course it was covered up here because it was kinda cold at the time.
This would be looking down on the town, where you can see the prevalent use of the architectural style known as "Early Super Cute".
This is at a church in Wurzburg, the beautiful little town where I was born.
I. Love. This. Man. And the background? Yes, it is real.
It was hard to leave my friends and little Tobi, but we promised we would get together with them again in the next year or so, hopefully at the Grand Canyon. Meanwhile, we had a plane to catch to Venice.....
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Grammy -- The Talk of Talk Shows
If you missed Grammy on Leno last Friday, be sure to catch her on the Ellen Degeneres Show this Wednesday. She was her adorable, feisty self on Ellen and boy, did they ever give her a surprise. Tune in to see it!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
WTF, Over?
So this morning, at the oh-so-convenient hour of 2:30 a.m., our backyard was swarmed with ghetto birds. For at least an hour. Actually it could have been one ghetto bird, but when it’s in your OWN FRIGGIN’ BACKYARD it sounds more like TWENTY. As I’m lying there in a WTF stupor, I hear a voice over a megaphone hovering over our backyard: “PUT YOUR HANDS UP. PUT YOUR HANDS UP.” I thought they only said that in movies?
Does anybody know what kind of trashiness descended upon our humble neighborhood last night?
Does anybody know what kind of trashiness descended upon our humble neighborhood last night?
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Best Quote I Have Seen In A Long, Long Time
"Religion is something that is mostly outward appearance. Faith is a different thing. Faith doesn't have a name. It doesn't have a category. It's oblique. So it's unspeakable. We degrade faith by talking about religion."
- Bob Dylan, from a recent interview in Rolling Stone
- Bob Dylan, from a recent interview in Rolling Stone
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Bee Careful
So I decided to walk to the bank at lunch to deposit my massage money, and kept noticing this buzzing sound. What the hell is that? I kept stopping and checking my clothes for bugs, looking around to see if there was a Jackrabbit following me or something. I ambled into the Co-Op to get my fave sandwich there (turkey on toasted sourdough with avocado and no sprouts) and went to the ladies’ since I didn’t think I’d be able to hold it all the way back to the office when I looked into the mirror and beheld a bee, trying with all his might to hump the giant fake orange flower I have in my hair today. It was quite a sight. He was really going to town. I suppose my choice of hair accessory could indeed have been construed as bee porno, but I hadn’t thought of that this morning when I shoved my dirty hair into a bun and clipped the obnoxious thing onto it to hide said dirt. My bad hair day = huge bee tease.
But thank heavens that mystery was solved.
But thank heavens that mystery was solved.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Update
The latest news from Derek's mom: Grammy's in two magazines that we know about: Sports Illustrated, page 17 and Golf World, pages 24 (Briefly column) and 26 (Front Nine column). How about that?
I Knew It All Along
I know, I know. I am SUCH a slacker. I just feel so in limbo and everything with the trip coming up, I have not been motivated to write at all. Things that happen that are funny that I usually would be like “I can’t wait to pimp this story out!” I’m more like “Eh, pass the chips and let me shift positions on the couch.” Working six days a week makes for a very tired and pathetic Valley Girl, but as of this week I will be getting my Saturdays back, so that’s good.
But I felt I would be remiss if I did not tell you about the huge news in our family lately. You know Derek’s Grammy that I am always blabbing about? The same Grammy we go to visit in Chico who plays a mean game of cards and makes an even meaner peach cobbler? Well, she’s famous now. Unless you have been living under a rock, you’ve heard about the 102-year-old woman who recently made a hole-in-one, making her the oldest person on record to do so on a regulation golf course. Here is one of the many articles (be sure to watch her in the video, she is so cute), or just google "Elsie McLean" and you will see articles about her from all over the world. Now everybody wants her: Leno, Ellen, hordes of fans sending her requests for autographs. Not only did they book her on the above shows, but they moved her to sweeps week -- she is that hot! I don’t know squat about golf, but I do know that this "little old lady" has managed to unwittingly steal the show from the oh-so-elitist frou-frou Master’s Tournament and trumped the record previously held by a man in a male-dominated sport. Can you say "YOU GO, GIRL!" -- ??
But personally, all fanfare aside, the deeper meaning I have taken from the whole thing is this: You are never too old to achieve your dream. That is a lame cliché, of course, but hello? As an avid golfer, that being her dream, and still being out there three days a week swinging away, not giving a rat’s ass that she is 102, how can you not see the obviousness of the universal law at work there?
And a secondary, but also very relevant moral to this story would be knowing that me, you, anybody, can exist and thrive without the daily use of prescription drugs and crappy processed foods and a whole host of other items the big corporate monsters would have us believe we would die without. The secret is to just live positively and seek out your joys. Grammy’s had her share of physical ailments over the years, sure, but doesn’t rely on meds as a way of life and doesn’t complain about whatever aches and pains come up. It should also be noted that I’ve looked through countless photo albums and scrapbooks of hers, and can’t remember a single photo of her where she wasn’t smiling. This is what has kept her young and beautiful all these many years, and I hope in her now high-profile existence, people look beneath the accomplishment of her having managed this incredible feat, and see where it came from: That she has made an ace out of her life.
I am still crazy about her as a person and still ecstatic that I will soon legally be considered a part of her family, though I have felt a kinship with her since I met her. But with all the attention swirling around her, I have to admit I have a smug little voice inside me that amusedly says, “You gapers, I knew she was awesome all along.”
But I felt I would be remiss if I did not tell you about the huge news in our family lately. You know Derek’s Grammy that I am always blabbing about? The same Grammy we go to visit in Chico who plays a mean game of cards and makes an even meaner peach cobbler? Well, she’s famous now. Unless you have been living under a rock, you’ve heard about the 102-year-old woman who recently made a hole-in-one, making her the oldest person on record to do so on a regulation golf course. Here is one of the many articles (be sure to watch her in the video, she is so cute), or just google "Elsie McLean" and you will see articles about her from all over the world. Now everybody wants her: Leno, Ellen, hordes of fans sending her requests for autographs. Not only did they book her on the above shows, but they moved her to sweeps week -- she is that hot! I don’t know squat about golf, but I do know that this "little old lady" has managed to unwittingly steal the show from the oh-so-elitist frou-frou Master’s Tournament and trumped the record previously held by a man in a male-dominated sport. Can you say "YOU GO, GIRL!" -- ??
But personally, all fanfare aside, the deeper meaning I have taken from the whole thing is this: You are never too old to achieve your dream. That is a lame cliché, of course, but hello? As an avid golfer, that being her dream, and still being out there three days a week swinging away, not giving a rat’s ass that she is 102, how can you not see the obviousness of the universal law at work there?
And a secondary, but also very relevant moral to this story would be knowing that me, you, anybody, can exist and thrive without the daily use of prescription drugs and crappy processed foods and a whole host of other items the big corporate monsters would have us believe we would die without. The secret is to just live positively and seek out your joys. Grammy’s had her share of physical ailments over the years, sure, but doesn’t rely on meds as a way of life and doesn’t complain about whatever aches and pains come up. It should also be noted that I’ve looked through countless photo albums and scrapbooks of hers, and can’t remember a single photo of her where she wasn’t smiling. This is what has kept her young and beautiful all these many years, and I hope in her now high-profile existence, people look beneath the accomplishment of her having managed this incredible feat, and see where it came from: That she has made an ace out of her life.
I am still crazy about her as a person and still ecstatic that I will soon legally be considered a part of her family, though I have felt a kinship with her since I met her. But with all the attention swirling around her, I have to admit I have a smug little voice inside me that amusedly says, “You gapers, I knew she was awesome all along.”
Friday, March 23, 2007
I'm Like, Sew Sewper Hot!
Here is what you do when you come home from stripper class: Take off the clear shoes, eat a quesadilla, then do two shots of whiskey.
You decide that your Good Hair Day just didn't get enough exposure for the day (thank you, Conair ceramic hot rollers!), and you start taking pictures of yourself.
I am Le Hot, and need not even look into the camera's eye:
"Looking for a man who will be generou$$$. I love to have a good time and am up for anything. Am equally at home in jeans or in cocktail dress and heels."
I call this one Man With Mom Tattoo Sipping From Flask I Gave Him For Valentine's Day:
I totally do my own eyebrows.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
My Dumb Ass
I had been doing SO GOOD. Nary a drop of Jesus Juice since returning from Grammy’s, and loving the effects: Feeling better upon the usual hellishness of waking in the morning, more energy, less bloating, less red-eye, clearer skin, actual motivation to pick up after myself around the house, actual motivation to be productive, etc. It had been a week and a half and I had that cleaned-out, super-happy, I-so-have-my-shizzle-together! feeling.
And then it happened.
The raging baby shower.
Yeah, that sound you hear is the collective laughter of Valley Girl readers from all over the globe laughing their asses off that I would be so weakened to imbibe at a friggin’ BABY SHOWER. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT, EVEN.
But let me explain. Shut up, stop laughing! I’m sure!
The baby shower was held at this totally swank place -- the type of place that hires a team of lighting stylists to get the interior lighting just so perfect that every diner looks perfectly glowy, tan and fabulous. Each course offered a beautifully presented chi-chi serving of delight that melted in your mouth. So when the sommelier recommended and poured a delicate, but jovial syrah for our sipping pleasure, who the hell was I to say no to a sip? And when our server, with the quiet stealthiness of a ninja treading on 500-thread count pillows kept my glass bottomless, how on earth was I supposed to know how much I was consuming?
Until this morning, when I felt how much I had consumed. Even though it was expensive, apparently I consumed a lot, and am not feeling so swift today. And so, Valley Girl hangs her head in dumbassery, and hops back on the wagon. Lesson learned.
And then it happened.
The raging baby shower.
Yeah, that sound you hear is the collective laughter of Valley Girl readers from all over the globe laughing their asses off that I would be so weakened to imbibe at a friggin’ BABY SHOWER. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT, EVEN.
But let me explain. Shut up, stop laughing! I’m sure!
The baby shower was held at this totally swank place -- the type of place that hires a team of lighting stylists to get the interior lighting just so perfect that every diner looks perfectly glowy, tan and fabulous. Each course offered a beautifully presented chi-chi serving of delight that melted in your mouth. So when the sommelier recommended and poured a delicate, but jovial syrah for our sipping pleasure, who the hell was I to say no to a sip? And when our server, with the quiet stealthiness of a ninja treading on 500-thread count pillows kept my glass bottomless, how on earth was I supposed to know how much I was consuming?
Until this morning, when I felt how much I had consumed. Even though it was expensive, apparently I consumed a lot, and am not feeling so swift today. And so, Valley Girl hangs her head in dumbassery, and hops back on the wagon. Lesson learned.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Shoe Flatulence
So I got these flats from Old Navy, and I love love LOVE them. They are super comfy, super cute, and they go with friggin' everything.
But there is one problem. They fart when I walk. Yes, that's right -- the shoes fart. It is really annoying and distracting.
And I guess if I were the type to embarrass more easily, it would prohibit me from wearing the shoes. But the value of a shoe that checks off all three of the above criteria can never be overstated. And so I shall wear the farty shoes, oh yes! I shall wear the farty shoes. And funny looks by passersby be damned!
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