Raging Hormones

Out Of Focus Workout

2008-09-27T19:48:00.000-07:00

Due to changes in both of our schedules, don dokken and I have had to revise our workout routine. Starting at the beginning of this month, we had to switch our time to 6:30 am which is no problem for me, I prefer to get my workout over early. It was a problem for don dokken who decided that while he was adjusting to his new job he would take a week or two off of exercising.

I think he would have extended his time off indefinitely except that I kept kindly and gently reminding him that now that he was sitting behind a desk all day the poundage would no doubt start piling on. This, of course, is the opposite of what really happened because apparently when he gets all involved in work he "forgets to eat." How does this happen? And then by the time he eats lunch it's almost dinner time and so he doesn't eat dinner. He is already down a belt notch. In less than a month.

Even so, I did manage to cajole him into coming back to the trainer last week. On our short drive to her house I noticed my vision was a little blurry. Sometimes that happens first thing in the morning but this was so strange that I took my glasses off and that's when I realized that I was wearing my reading glasses. Instead of the glasses that I wear to, you know, see.

On this particular day our trainer had us do the hardest balancing exercise in her ever changing repertoire of torture. This exercise involved doing squats on a BOSU. With increasingly heavier weights on our shoulders. On a good day I can barely stand on the BOSU much less do squats. With weights.

I was pretty certain that my blurry vision would be completely disconcerting and that I would be unable to manage the BOSU. In fact, it was the opposite. Having nothing to focus on improved my equilibrium. All future balancing exercises will be performed sans glasses.

The Irony Of Landers

2008-07-30T07:59:00.001-07:00

Yesterday Julie and I took a field trip out to Landers in the Mojave desert. On the way there, I told Julie that I knew nothing about Landers except that it had a big fault line that resulted in a really big earthquake way back a few years. The purpose of our field trip was two fold; Julie needed to get an orchid re-potted at Gubler's and I wanted to see the Integratron.

We started off at Gubler's Orchids where there is a big sign posted that you must wear closed toed shoes if you want to tour the greenhouses. The tour turned out to consist of a guy walking us around and pointing to plants. The answer to most of our questions was "I don't know." The woman behind the desk refused to smile and barked at Julie when she wasn't immediately ready when our "tour guide" arrived. Let's just say it is probably better for these people to work with flowers than with people.

How do I describe the Integratron? Well, to start, here's a picture:

You would have to go on the website to get the full history but let's just say it's an energy machine where you can go and take a sound bath. Unfortunately, it was closed and they called us back too late to take a tour but I am grateful that I just got to see it and the viewing lived up to my expectations.

We left Julie's orchid in the care of the flower loving, people hating employees at Gubler's and headed even further into the Mojave desert through Johnson County, a homestead community and some unadulterated desert, Joshua trees, rock formations, rock formations with graffiti, old homestead homes, two lane highway with no stolen water greenery. Our destination was Lucerne Valley where we wanted to do some thrift store shopping and have lunch.

We immediately found Jody's Pre Loved Goods. Pay dirt. And not just because of the merchandise. Jody was there with two of her buddies. These ladies were probably in their 70's and one of them was on the cell phone having a conversation I recognized. "How big was it?" "Was anyone hurt?" "Where was it centered?" "We felt it here."

Apparently as Julie and I were driving there was this earthquake. I can't imagine being anywhere safer than that desolate desert highway.

When she got off the phone, the woman said to the other ladies, "The guy next door to my sister has played the same song every day for the last 15 years."

"What song is it?"

"A Lee Ann Rimes song."

"Couldn't be Lee Ann Rimes. She hasn't been around for 15 years. Must be Patsy Cline. Lee Ann sounds like Patsy Cline."

Their conversation soon turned to other things.

"I wish there was a place for singles to meet in this town," one of them sighed. "It would be nice to go dancing, meet someone to have dinner with."

The other ladies offered her some advice at which point the conversation went back to earthquakes versus tornadoes and how one of their sisters slept through a tornado one time and some story about a baby ending up miles away in a tree. They realized that they should have known an earthquake was coming because the ants have been acting strange. They decided that in the earthquake versus tornado contest that earthquakes rule.

After we made our purchases (I bought nine silver bracelets for $4.00. They may not really be silver but they make a nice clanging sound), we asked them for a lunch place recommendation and they sent us down the street to an awesome Chinese place where they said people come all the way from Apple Valley to eat. I'm not sure where Apple Valley is but impressive, yes?

On the way back to my casita, we stopped in Yucca Valley at my favorite coffee house, Water Canyon Coffee Company. Yucca suddenly seemed like a big, booming town compared to Landers and Lucerne Valley. Perspective.

My New Gig As A Back Model

2008-07-28T07:59:00.001-07:00

Here I am back at my desert paradise. At this moment, I am sitting outside on the huge, private patio of my casitas, sipping coffee, reading and getting ready to go to the spa in Palm Springs where I will take a fitness class, sink into one of their deep bathtubs, and then rest with cucumbers on my eyes in the quiet room.

Yesterday when I arrived Julie and I opened a bottle of champagne and the she asked me if I would model a jacket for her Etsy store. The jacket is a gorgeous green with a mink fur collar. The problem was that it was a little snug in the front. But she thought it looked good from the back and then she remembered this handbag she wanted to sell. So here I am modeling the back of a jacket and a nice big pocket book....

You see that pearl bracelet I'm wearing? Someone already commented on Julie's Flickr page that it makes for a perfect accessory to the jacket. I brought it myself to the photo shoot. I am a full service back model!

Whoops, I Did It Again

2008-05-29T07:54:00.000-07:00

I have now almost set my house on fire twice while trying to cook. And by cook I mean making pasta. And by making pasta I mean heating up water, throwing in the pasta, and then heating up store bought sauce.

The first time I was talking to my sister as the pasta finished. I remember draining the pasta, adding the sauce, and then hanging up. I finished eating and then went into my office. Awhile later there was a strong smell coming from the kitchen. I forgot to turn off the burner for the sauce. The remaining sauce had burnt as had the skillet.

Yesterday, I put a pot of water up to boil. And then I got bored. And a watched pot never boils. So I went to my office to play on the Etsy shop that Julie finally convinced me to open (more on that in another post). About 45 minutes later I remembered the boiling water. Fortunately, it was a big pot so a quarter of the water was still there.

I give up.

Change In Perspective

2008-05-20T13:35:00.000-07:00

Almost four years ago, my dad, mom and I went to Houston one weekend in October to attend the wedding of my second cousin, Nathan. I was still working my corporate job and the timing turned out to be very stressful for me. I spent a great deal of time on my blackberry and remember working on the computer in the business center of the hotel until late both nights. As we were getting ready to board the plane going home, my dad discovered he had left his cell phone and his wallet in the rental car, got extremely angry and upset, and started treating my mom and I horribly. The rental agency found his stuff and sent it back to him but when I got home I wondered why I had even bothered going.

During the wedding reception, I kept going outside to check my blackberry and I kept running into Christopher, also a second cousin (first cousin of the groom), who was outside a lot taking cigarette breaks. Chris has a big personality and is extremely personable. I do not know what we talked about but I could not help but like him.

Chris' parents had a BBQ at their house the day after the wedding and, unbeknownst to me, my dad and Chris had a talk about law schools. My dad told Chris about a law school here in L.A. that Chris had never heard of. He applied and was accepted and the only time we saw him in his three years of law school was when he unexpectedly showed up at my dad's funeral.

So I was surprised to receive an invitation to his law school graduation which was this past weekend. I love graduations. They are filled with hope and corny music and corny speeches and they make me cry. Chris' mom, dad, and one of his brothers were here and my mom and I joined them and our other cousin Sam (who lives in L.A. and is the brother of Nathan, the one who got married four years ago. Are you still following along?) for lunch in Hollywood after the ceremony.

I sat next to Chris and he told us that during his first week of school he was at the law school library and looked out the window and saw my dad motoring on his scooter down Wilshire Boulevard. Later, we all talked about the BBQ after the wedding and how my cousin Liz had bought portobello mushrooms for me and how her husband Bill had BBQ'd it for me. "I never cooked a portobello mushroom before," Bill said. "So I just cooked it the way I would a steak. Was it any good?" I told him it was great. "But you and George kept making fun of me. You gave me a really hard time about that portobello mushroom."

And then all my memories of that trip four years ago started to shift. Suddenly, it wasn't about being stressed at work and losing a cellphone. Now it was about helping Chris start his career and remembering that my cousin cared enough to buy me special food, and getting to bond later over the memory of being teased by the menfolk at a Texas BBQ.

Get Your Choo Choo On

2008-05-16T07:54:00.001-07:00

Last Saturday was National Train Day and I volunteered to sit at the Conservancy table at our very own Union Station. And even though I did not see one advertisement for the event, the place was hopping. Train geeks have their own way of knowing.

My friend John was sitting with me. He is leaving this summer for M.I.T. and in two or three years when he comes back he is going to do great things like make the L.A. River work again or make all the traffic go away or maybe even stop my dog from barking whenever the sprinklers turn on which is what is happening here right this minute. Because I totally want to be John's assistant when he comes back, I agreed to pose with him for this picture:

John was sure that this thing was supposed to be an artichoke and, in fact, kept calling him "Artie" but it turned out that he was a leaf. Because Amtrak is going green! And to really ensure my place in John's entourage, I insisted that he pose for me with the "Wicked" car so I would have something with which to bribe him:

Also at our table was a local newscaster who, during our Union Station docent training, was assigned to trail me and another John and give us feedback before we actually started giving real tours. He chose to go the tough love route and never removed his sunglasses, never smiled, told me I pronounced "epoch" wrong, and claimed that a fact I was citing was incorrect even though it was right there in the training manual. John and I sat as far away from him as possible.

At the end of our shift, however, he made eye contact and mentioned that he remembered me and the hard time he gave me and said something like, "You understand now why I needed to do that, right?" And I mumbled something and John and I ran to the miniature train exhibit as quickly as we could.

And, no, I didn't understand because I have now been doing these tours for several years and there has not been one group who hasn't looked me in the eye and smiled and wanted me to be successful.

Except yesterday I was back at Union Station giving a tour to a group of home schooled kids and maybe I did need tough love to prepare for them. I purposely volunteered for that tour because I wanted to see my bias against home schoolers challenged. Sadly, I think my bias stood up well. There were twelve kids ranging in age from nine to fifteen and seven adults, all moms, and when I asked how many of them had been to a mission the showing of hands among the kids was dismal. And I'm no expert but I think that if you're nine or older you should be able to contain yourself from randomly lying on the floor in a public place. Or jumping on counters at a historic landmark. Or that you should be able to ask more insightful questions than "When are we going to Chinatown?"

They were actually a nice enough group and sent a complimentary note about me to the Conservancy so I'm not really complaining. I was taken aback, though, when I was saying good-bye and one of the mom's (who had earlier told me that it was obvious I felt very passionate about Union Station) said, "May the force be with you." Indeed.

Better Than Brad Pitt

2008-04-12T08:18:00.000-07:00

The other day my mother was walking behind me and commented that I was looking really good from the back. I like to pass these comments on to our trainer because 99% of the time I'm telling her that (a) I hate her, (b) I'm going to faint, (c) I'm going to barf, or (d) I'm going to die and I want her to have some reason to feel happy about coming to work.

However, a few minutes after passing on the compliment I blurted out "But, wait a minute. What difference does it make what my mother thinks? It's not like Brad Pitt said he liked my backside." After conferring for a bit both don dokken and our trainer agreed that, where Brad Pitt might do the smooth thing, mothers speak the truth so a mother's opinion is way better and more accurate than Brad's.

Then the other night I was paying a parking lot attendant and he said to me, "Wow, what a great smile" and I was all yeah, yeah, I know, whatever. And then he said "Where's your husband tonight?" When I told this story to don dokken his response was "He might have said 'smile' but I'm sure he was talking about your backside." Which was EXACTLY what I was thinking.

Erasing The Whiteboard

2008-04-04T19:50:00.000-07:00

I have a whiteboard hanging in my office which has a list entitled "2007/2008 Planning." It is time to erase the whiteboard and write down some new plans because, as of today, I have completed everything on that list. Except really I'd rather just sit all day and stare at the check marks next to each item. I thought it would be nice to document my accomplishments somewhere before letting them go and replacing them with new ones that would have no check marks so would not be fun to look at all day. Here they are:

1. Create budget

I actually created a budget and have been tracking all my spending against it including cash since January. Though sometimes a pain, I love the process of getting a true understanding of where my money really goes. And it makes me hesitate before spending because I know I have to write it down (I hear this works with food as well....)

2. Lower expenses

Under this category there were two subheadings - Phone bills, Insurance. I have three phone numbers: home, business, cell. I was successful in getting a better cell phone and land line plan. I also read the bills in detail and noticed I was billed for things I didn't want (for example, I was being billed a roadside service fee on my cell phone which I didn't need because I have AAA. It was only 99 cents or something but really. Gone.) The insurance stayed the same. I got other bids and they weren't much better than what I already have.

3. MMP brochures and website

MMP is Manage My People which is one of my businesses. I have business cards for that business and a URL but I never developed the website. A brochure has been written but never printed. I do have a few clients under that business, as opposed to my compensation consulting business, but after much thought I decided to merge the businesses. And even though I love the name and my logo I am letting it go.

4. Meet with insurance agent about long term disability and long term care

My financial planner and I had a meeting with an insurance agent about these issues late last year. At the time, we decided that it was still too early for long term care insurance but definitely worth purchasing long term disability. The reason for #1 (create budget) is largely so I can make my final decision on how much income I want to replace when I purchase the long term disability insurance.

5. Separate business and personal funds

I had been using the same checking account and credit card for both business and personal. I knew this was wrong but since I am good about tracking the business income and expenses it didn't seem like too big a deal. But then earlier this year I hired two people to do some work for me and I thought it might be tacky to pay them with a check that had "Pro-Choice" embedded in the background. So now I have a bona-fide business checking account and a business credit card that gives me cash back on all sorts of stuff including gasoline so now when I go to visit my niece and nephew instead of costing me $12.00 in gasoline, it now costs $12.00 minus 5% and looks much better in my budget (see #1.)

6. Update business website

And so here we are. don dokken made some awesome changes to the look of the website and I updated some content and, though I've always liked my website, I am really proud of how quickly we worked this through. Check it out here.

And stay tuned for planning list 2008/2009.

Happy Birthday E. & I.

2008-03-23T09:32:00.000-07:00

A few days ago Grandma Diane, Jenny, and I took you to Sears to get your two-year portraits. We walked in the store and I couldn't believe how well behaved you were. You held onto our hands and looked at all the merchandise. Grandma Diane pointed out a blouse that she thought would be nice for you to buy her for her birthday. When we got to the portrait studio, you sat quietly playing with a bead game while the photographer set things up. Then it was time for the pictures.

At first the set-up looked like a bed and the two of you refused to approach for fear you'd be forced to go "la-la." But then the photographer showed you that it was really a drum and you were both all into that. Eva, you are going to be America's Next Top Model because once the camera came out, you would not stop posing. In fact, we had a hard time getting you to step down from the "drum" so your brother could have his turn alone.

Isaac, once you got comfortable you had no interest in the picture taking process and great interest in finding out what was behind every door and curtain in all of Sears. Grandma Diane spent a lot of time running after you, proving that however much money she spends on Jazzercize, it is a wise investment. At one point, you slammed your finger in a door and at another point I was trying to pick you up but you fought me so hard that you banged your head hard on the floor. Of course, the only person who could comfort you was your nanny, Jenny (who you call "Nenny" but who per Grandma Diane I am not allowed to call "Nenny" because that would be sabotaging your language development skills.)

Yesterday, both of you stopped by to visit me near your house where several of my friends and I were having lunch. The whole time you were there I kept asking you how old you were going to be tomorrow and neither of you would answer. You did, however, have a great time splashing water from a fountain all over yourselves and my friend's backyard. When you left, I walked you to the car and your mama and I strapped you into your car seats. I asked you one more time, "How old are you going to be when I next see you?" and you both simultaneously raised your little fingers and said "two."

Isaac, you have been trying very hard to communicate in what I call "secret twin language" or what could possibly be some obscure Chinese dialect. It breaks my heart a little because you speak so emphatically and there are lots of wild hand gestures involved. You must be trying to tell us something very, very important like who shot JFK or the identity of Deep Throat. Don't worry, we already know!

I have so much more to say about how good natured, affectionate and sweet you both are, how you love books and being read to which is a requirement if you want to be related to me and how, for the most part, you act properly excited whenever you see me, but your birthday party is in a few hours and I am in charge of getting the fruit so I must go. Happy birthday, E. and I., I love you!

Morocco in the Desert

2008-03-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

While researching new places to stay on my semi-annual trip to the desert, I found a place called El Morocco Inn which had great reviews on Trip Advisor. I sent Julie on a scouting mission and she called me as she was walking out the door and told me I needed to book a stay there right away. So I did and a few weeks ago I went.

I would call this my most relaxing trip to the desert yet. The owners have gone to great lengths with the decor which Julie has documented (along with other parts of my visit) on her flickr site here. They have a happy hour every afternoon where they serve "morocco-tinis," introduce all the guests to one another (though all the guests at the time were an elderly couple and me), and tell stories. They have a a DVD player in every room and an extensive DVD library. I watched two films - "Girl Interrupted" (and, wow, you could really see why Angelina won an Oscar. She totally eclipsed Winona who was billed as the star) and "A Few Good Men" ("I want the truth. You can't handle the truth." Can't believe I never saw it before.) I had the swimming pool and the swimming pool size jacuzzi to myself.

They were wonderful to Julie and gave her a key to the front door so she could come join me whenever. We went to dinner one night and when we came back there was a a decanter of sherry and glasses for us waiting in the dining area. Oh, and they have a little room with games, a fireplace, and a TV that runs a continuous loop of "Casablanca."

When I went through the purge of 2006, I had put aside several bags of vintage clothing that I knew were too good to donate to Goodwill. I decided to bring the bags down to the desert to get Julie's advice on their dispensation. One afternoon I had a fashion show by the pool where I pulled out the items from the bags and Julie told me what she thought each item's value and selling potential was. At some point in the fashion show, the owner of the local newspaper came by to interview Bruce, the proprietor of El Morocco, who had just won a General Manager of the year award. And that is how Julie and I came to be pictured in the latest issue of the Valley Breeze (click to enlarge):

(I am on the right, holding a bunch of vintage clothing in my hands. I point this out because I sent this picture to my own mother and she wrote me back saying, "I see Julie but where are you?")

My Two High School English Teachers

2007-12-17T08:52:00.000-08:00

This excellent Op-Ed piece was published in the L.A. Times yesterday. The writer, Barry Smolin, was two years behind me at Fairfax High School and my sister was friends with his sister. It is an ode to George Schoenman, a long-time English teacher at Fairfax, and tangentially talks about Richard Battaglia, another English teacher, as well.

Please read the article. Both of those teachers influenced me as hugely as they did Barry and he describes them well. Mr. Battaglia was my teacher for pretty much every semester I was at Fairfax. He taught me how to write. He exposed us to films that I still think about ("Blow-up," "I Never Sang for My Father," and "The Pawnbroker" being three examples.) He offered an independent studies Shakespeare class where we read the plays,went to see the movies at The Royal Theater and then wrote papers and analyzed. He encouraged us to be adventurous. He sponsored me in my own self created independent studies class and gave me a note authorizing me to leave campus during that period so I could study while eating chocolate chip sweet rolls and french fries at Cantor's deli. I was his teacher's aide - he called me "Radar" after Radar O'Reilly from Mash - and working for him was the first indication that I was really good at all things organizational. He carried all his papers and paraphernalia in a banker's box that became very worn. I tore off a piece of the box at the end of the school year and had him autograph it. I will not say how long I held on to that particular souvenir. Just before graduation, Mr. Battaglia took me out for a thank-you breakfast at The Melting Pot restaurant on La Cienega and Melrose. We drove there in his BMW. Did I mention he looked like Sam Elliott in "The Lifeguard?"

Mr. Schoenman was different. He taught us how to analyze great literature and exposed us to existentialism. The summer after I took Mr. Schoenman's class I visited my piano teacher in Santa Barbara. We were building sand castles on the beach and she asked me to describe my idea of the perfect man. Mr. Schoenman was on my mind and I described someone of his temperament. I must not have done as good a job as Barry does in his article because my piano teacher looked mortified and said, "Oh no, you don't want someone so introspective. You'll never know what he's thinking!" But she was married to a fairly well known and gregarious Hungarian cellist who may have had an eye for the ladies - so there.

When he was my homeroom teacher, Mr. Schoenman offered some words of wisdom which had nothing to do with literature. He told us that, when using the girls' restroom, we should avoid putting our purses on the ground as there had been incidences of theft. Though this warning says much about how things were at Fairfax High School in the 1970's, I think of this advice every time I enter a ladies room stall and always make sure my purse is elevated even when there is no hook. It has served me well.

An Organized Year In Review

2007-12-11T08:11:00.000-08:00

Almost a year ago I wrote this post which describes how great it felt to clean out my house and get things in order. The great purge of 2006 included eliminating 26 bags of clothing, hiring a company to come and shred documents, some going as far back as the '80's, and actually displaying and using things I liked that I had kept hidden away because I liked them too much to use.

For 2007, I continued getting organized in other ways and I am feeling really good about it right now so this post is all about me giving myself a big pat on the back.

The first thing I did was switch financial planners to a fee-based advisor who worked with me to accomplish several things:

1. We consolidated all my money under one administrator, Fidelity. My old advisor was unfortunately with LPL and my big complaint about them (which I found out through one of my mutual fund clients is known throughout the industry) was that for me, the client, it was not easy to transverse their website and their general administration was not very good. I could do very little on-line. Through Fidelity, both my advisor and I can conduct transactions which is great because some things I really like doing on my own and when I screw them up my advisor can just swoop in and fix things (yeah, this really happens. Just helping my advisor earn his fee!) Also, LPL could not consolidate their paperwork so that I had three different accounts from them and three different statements. Fidelity is just one consolidated statement. So much paper saved. And less time with the adding machine.

2. We developed a financial plan. I now know exactly how much money I need to save every year in order to retire when I want to retire. I also know that, if I want to buy my dream vacation home in Palm Springs, I can afford to do that.

3. I worked with a lawyer to set up a trust and the lawyer and my financial advisor moved all my assets into the trust.

4. My advisor and I met with an insurance broker to discuss whether I need long term disability and long term care insurance. I am still mulling over everything I learned and it is on the list for 2008 to make a decision.

Other things I did that make me feel more organized:

1. Though I track my business expenses in Quicken, I was using the same credit card for both business and personal expenses. I finally got a business credit card which has my business name and which I use for all business transactions. It's platinum so it will impress all those clients I take out to big fancy lunches (kidding!)

2. I set up a monthly budget for 2008 so I can really see where my money is going. I know all the big stuff but don't have a handle on all the small stuff that adds up.

3. I fired a client that was using up way too much time for way too little money and banished their file to the garage. It felt really good getting that thick, annoying file out of my filing cabinet.

4. The catalogs I receive have gotten out of hand. All my dad's mail is forwarded to me and he was a catalog junkie. I also accidentally didn't opt out of something when I bought a birthday gift for my niece and nephew online and, since then, I get about three children's catalogs a week (not kidding!) Yesterday, I heard about www.catalogchoice.org and I have signed up for both me and my dad. They say it takes about two or three months for it all to stop but I can decline all catalogs I currently receive though this site. I think the catalog reduction is going to be life changing.

5. I called up my phone companies, landlines and cell, and negotiated better rates. When my car and home insurance come up early next year, I plan to do some major comparison shopping.

So now that I've put this all in writing and see how much I've accomplished I think I won't be as hard on myself as I was going to be for neglecting this blog. Writing more is, however, on my list for 2008.

It's just frightening, isn't it?

2007-12-01T21:31:00.000-08:00

Solidarity!

2007-11-21T06:59:00.001-08:00

I am somewhere in this picture wearing my red University of Wisconsin t-shirt and marching in support of the Writer's Guild of America. I have walked picket lines with the teachers and the farmworkers. I have marched for choice. This felt different. I'll explain why later in this post. But let's just start by saying this was no civil rights march. The median annual salary of a Writer's Guild member is $95,000. And, yes, I understand that's the median and that most of the guild members can go years without working and rely on residuals (of course it also means that many guild members make way more than $95,000. Whatever).

Not that I don't agree with what they are asking for. Except that it is complicated, there may or may not be a lot of misinformation out there, and I have become cynical. They are asking that reality show and animation writers be covered. They should be except that I heard the guild's negotiating team already took this off the table. If this is true, I am not surprised. I have sat in on union negotiations as part of management's bargaining team (here's where the cynicism comes in) and I have seen union negotiating teams throw the rank and file under the bus for their own best interests.

They are asking to double the residuals they receive for DVDs. Because DVDs were so new the last time they negotiated, they are really getting screwed. But, by far, the most important issue is that they want to be compensated for new media - downloads and streaming videos. Since in the very near future we will all be receiving our creative content on the computer, they really did need to go on strike for this. For example, over the summer the writers for The Office wrote a series of "webisodes" for which they won an Emmy. These mini episodes were considered to be "marketing" and the writers did not get paid any extra for them.

But, this whole paying for the internet is complicated. Here's an example. Scrubs is produced by an ABC owned company. NBC has purchased Scrubs and receives revenue from advertising when they air it on their stations and when they show an episode on their website. ABC, the company who produced the show and pays the writers, actors, et. al., does not receive any revenue from advertising from television or from advertising or downloads from the internet because they have sold the show to NBC. So, basically, the writers are asking for something that the people who pay them don't even get. Except that these are smart people and they should be able to work something out, right?

But back to why I had trouble getting my passion up during this march and why it was different. Well, first let's go back to the striking itself. I read everyday how this star or that star walked the line with the writers and brought them pizza or Starbucks. And how the writers were visited by fans of their shows who brought them pizza or Starbucks. It feels somehow pretentious and too much fun. Can you imagine Cesar Chavez being handed a latte by an adoring fan? And at the march itself:

1. There were agents from CAA dressed in suits and ties serving up scones on a platter to the marchers. Scones!
2. Debra Messing was marching next to me in full on make-up. Every once in awhile a fan would come up and ask to take her picture with their cellphone camera. She very sweetly complied.
3. Many years ago anti-choice groups were blocking clinics in Los Angeles so that women could not get in and have abortions. The pro-choice groups mobilized and blocked the blockers and helped the women get in. I participated in one of these and it was scary and intense and I was jostled and there was much screaming but it was important. Yesterday at the march I ended up standing next to a group of writers who were drumming and rapping and getting a lot of attention. In trying to get a picture, one photographer knocked me in the back of the head with his camera and another one shoved me out of the way with his back. It was scary and intense and I was jostled and there was much screaming but it was NOT important.

By the way, I now understand why Britney ran over the toes of those paparazzi. Solidarity, Britney!

My New BFF

2007-11-20T18:05:00.001-08:00

Besides showing the abundance of bonding going on between me and my nephew on Halloween (note his handmade Superboy outfit and my orange shirt), I think my hands look really nice in this picture. In case you didn't notice.

Malibou Lake

2007-11-19T20:40:00.000-08:00

Maybe you saw the episode of "The Office" a couple of weeks ago where Michael drives his car into the lake because he's following directions from his GPS. Or maybe, like me, you've watched "The Bad Seed" over and over again and maybe as a child you were traumatized when Rhoda got struck by lightening and falls into the lake. Or maybe you've seen "Frankenstein" and were traumatized by the scene when the monster sees the girl at the lake, she offers him flowers, he tosses her into the lake.

All those productions were shot at Malibou Lake which is pictured above. The lake is man-made and the community is exclusive with just three miles of houses. Only residents are allowed on the lake. Well, residents, and film and television productions.

I read about Malibou Lake in the L.A. Times a few weeks ago and they also mentioned that there was going to be a free lecture about its use in the movies. It was a chance to see the lake up close and personal and I am so glad I did. It was a beautiful day and the trees around the lake were changing colors. There was the lake, the mountains, the fall foliage, birds - what an oasis.

We saw a DVD showing footage from the films made on the Lake. I could not begin to list them (this goes back all the way to Charlie Chaplin....) We saw the class picnic scene from "The Bad Seed." We then walked out to the lake.

"Okay, so which of these docks is the one where Rhoda bites it?" I asked the lecturer.

"Actually," he said, "we're pretty sure that was done on a sound stage."

Economy of Words

2007-09-14T08:20:00.000-07:00

don dokken and I have taken a quick, maybe even less than 24 hours, trip to see his mom and to give me the opportunity to see my lawyer and sign some papers. We are now at our favorite free wireless coffee house. One reason I love this place is that whenever we are here they play the greatest music. Right now it's Tom Jones. Last time we were here it was "Rubber Band Man." I rest my case.

Best of all, at this moment we are sitting across from each other and sending each other emails. So much better than talking, especially so early on a Friday morning.

More Excitement

2007-08-12T20:59:00.000-07:00

After leaving the casino where I won enough money to pay for the first night of my vacation, I picked up Julie and we went out for lunch at a restaurant/coffee shop that is part of a hotel near her house. As we were waiting for our food I looked outside and noticed that the top of a palm tree in the parking lot of the hotel was engulfed in flames. I dialed 911 but for some reason I couldn't hear anything. I think my phone was on mute. I hung up and 911 called me back but in the meantime a second palm tree had caught on fire. Our seats in the restaurant were adjacent to the pool area which cleared out fairly quickly. I am pretty sure that was due to all the smoke. The fire department arrived quickly and put the fire out and we never could get a straight story on how the fire started our own theories being that it was either a car fire in the parking lot or some crack addicts in one of the rooms. It is just that kind of place. What will happen next?

How To Start A Vacation

2007-08-12T15:47:00.000-07:00

Man sitting next to me at the video poker machine: You just got 4 of a kind!
Me: Yeah, and I don't mean to be greedy but just one time in my life it would be nice to get a royal flush.
Man: Well, we're really old and we've never gotten a royal flush.
Me: I once met a woman who has gotten tons of them.
Man: Really?
Me: Actually, she lives in Vegas and she plays almost every day.
Man: Oh.
Me: I guess that's not really healthy. (Pressing the button to cash out). I do want a royal flush someday but today's not the day.
Man: Good choice.
Me: Good luck to you!

I am on my way to to a four day, three night vacation at my favorite resort in the desert. My winnings will pay for my first night.

Serendipity Maybe?

2007-07-04T07:20:00.000-07:00

The other day I went on a job interview even though I'm not really looking for a job. It all started out because I thought I was talking to them about a consulting assignment and that led to me agreeing to at least talk to people in the organization to see if I could become interested in working for them full time.

I was scheduled to talk to four people and the night before the interview I did some computer research on all of them. I found that one guy I was talking to was on the Board of a non-profit that was started by a woman who had once started a different non-profit with the help of my dad. And if you're thinking that this is the serendipity part of this post, you are wrong although I thought so too at the time.

The name of one of the guys on my schedule was very familiar to me but I could not figure out why. I was first interviewed by a woman who walked me over to meet the familiar name sounding guy who we actually ran into as he was standing outside talking to the non-profit guy who I was going to meet last. The woman introduced us and he started shaking my hand and saying "nice to meet you" when he stopped himself and said "Wait a minute, I know you!" He then turned to the other two and said, "She took care of my boys before they were my boys." And in case you are now totally confused, here is part of a post I wrote on February 2, 2005 which explains it all:

More than ten or so years ago, I used to volunteer at an Infant-Toddler shelter. One night I went over there with my boom box and some tapes thinking I would have a dance party with the kids. As I was walking in, one of the staff members was walking out, on her way to the hospital. She told me that two new kids had arrived that morning and one of them had bitten her. Hard. And she wasn't the first staff member to have to visit the hospital because of this kid.

Well, the new kids were two brothers - 1 1/2 and 2 1/2 years old - and I have never before or since seen two kids in worse shape. The older one, the biter, was emaciated and unable to speak. That is why he bit and banged his head and screamed. He had no other way of expressing himself. The youngest was a lump. There was no joy in that kid. He just sort of sat there. It still surprises me to say this but I was terrified of the older child. He was wild and uncontrollable. And how weird is it to say you're scared of a 2 year old? But there was a staff member, Marla, who fell in love with this boy and turned everything around. Meanwhile, I just adored the little one. In fact, Marla and I really got in trouble with the agency for favoring these two boys. But they needed it.

The full story of these boys is for another time but let's just fast forward and say that they were adopted by two men who by coincidence live just blocks away from me. Between Marla, the foster family they were placed with initially, and these two men who adopted them, they have more than thrived. They are doing great. And they have been very important to me as a symbol of hope and the resilience of children. Because I really, really thought there was no hope for these boys.

Anyway, over the years I have not talked to them often. Maybe there's a Christmas card here and there. Marla moved to Maryland and she came back about two years ago with her little girl and we all met at Jerry's Deli. The boys said they remembered the Infant-Toddler shelter and us. I asked them if they had any questions about when they were little. The youngest one asked what his favorite color was and one of the dads said to say "purple." That's the last time I saw, talked to, heard from them.

I get home last night and check my e-mails. After the adoption day and the ride home and thinking about all this stuff there, out of the blue, is an e-mail from the oldest boy. I open it. It just says "hello."

Yep, he was one of the dads. And I can not believe it but the boys are now 15 and 16 years old. He says they ask about me sometimes and he wants me to come by and see them. They are still living in the same place, pretty much walking distance from my house. When they were about five or six years old, I stopped by to see them one Christmas Eve. They were out of the group home and living in foster care. As I was walking to my car, the youngest boy came running after me and handed me a tree ornament he had made. It was gold sprayed, in the shape of a Christmas tree with his picture glued in the center. The reason I can describe it so clearly is that it hangs from the lamp in my office and I look at it every day. don dokken thinks this all means that I am meant for this job. I just think it means that I am always meant to know what happens to these boys.

And Speaking Of The Dentist

2007-06-10T16:59:00.000-07:00

Last week on the penultimate episode of "The Sopranos," Tony Soprano is sitting in the waiting room of his psychiatrist, Dr. Melfi, leafing through a magazine. He finds an article with BBQ recipes and tears it out, folds it up, and puts it in his pocket. As I watched this I thought, how endearing. Tony Soprano's world is falling apart, his son just tried to commit suicide, and yet he is looking forward to a summer of barbecuing tasty new dishes for his friends and family.

Dr. Melfi did not see it the same way. Influenced by her own psychiatrist who has cajoled her into reading an article about how sociopaths are aided in their craft by talk therapy, she yells at Tony for his selfishness in tearing out the article and then fires him as her patient.

Here's my question. Last week when I was at the dentist instead of tearing out an article from a magazine I was reading, I actually took the whole magazine. I am thinking this makes me a way better person than T because, when you remove just one article, someone could pick up the magazine, see the article referenced on the cover or listed in the table of contents and then be completely disappointed when they turn to it and it's not there. But when you remove the entire magazine, no one would ever know the difference. So I shouldn't feel guilty, right? I mean, as Tony said, that's what they're there for.

All About My Teeth

2007-06-09T07:23:00.000-07:00

This is going to be so boring that all of you out there who have been begging me to update my blog are going to wish you had never said anything. But I'll try and make it snappy....

Spring/Summer 2006
This was when I discovered that my dentist had neglected to point out to me that my gums were really, really bad. So bad that I required three surgeries. The first was a tissue graft. After the tissue graft, I started having a pain on the top left side of my mouth. No one knew what caused the pain but everyone decided that I needed more gum surgery.

I went to a new dentist and had two laser gum surgeries. During this whole time, my dad was getting sicker, don dokken's mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, don dokken's aunt died, my dad died. In fact, I had a follow-up visit for my last surgery on the day after my dad's funeral.

At that appointment, the dentist told me that I needed a night guard because I was grinding my teeth at night. You know how you can only deal with so many things at once? I totally didn't believe her. So I put off getting the night guard.

January 2007
A new year, a new maximum on the dental insurance. I decided to get the night guard. Only the technician who made the mold seemed like she didn't know what she was doing. Then I went to pick it up and, after keeping me waiting for 45 minutes, they told me the night guard was not there yet. I considered billing the dentist for my wasted time. When I did pick the night guard up, the dentist did not even come and look to see if it fit and I decided it didn't. So I never wore it.

Also, I still had that pain on the top left side of my mouth and the dentist couldn't figure out why. I noticed that my teeth were shifting and there was a gap you could drive a truck through on the top left side. When I mentioned it to the hygenist, she told me that it had probably always been there but I was noticing it more now because my gums were good now. Huh?

One Month Ago
I became convinced that the gum surgery had caused the big gap between my teeth and I could no longer stand the pain on the upper left side of my mouth so I decided to consult with a new dentist. I brought the night guard with me.

The new dentist is quirky. What do you know. That gap in my teeth? It's because I grind them at night. And my night guard? He LOVES it. The pain on the upper left side? He is unsure of the cause but it could be that I ground a crack in it. He says that stress is written all over my mouth. I told him that the pain started right around the time my dad died and he asked what my dad died of and said his mom died of lung cancer too. He then said, "So, did you do the morphine? I hope he had the morphine." And I actually answered, "Oh, yes, yes, it was REALLY great!"

He told me that he wanted my night guard to become my best friend and that I should come back in two weeks and he would do a complete exam and try to figure out this pain I was having. After he left, the technician talked to me to explain all the possibilities. She said that, if the tooth is cracked, they will have to remove it and replace it with a dental implant. That is when I burst into tears. She told me that, as terrible as it sounds, the worse thing about it is the cost.

It turns out I know lots of people, young and old, who have dental implants and they concurred but, still, I was deeply depressed. Until last year, my teeth were something I could count on. I felt so old. And I prepared myself for another summer of dental fun and expense.

Last Week
I wore the hell out of my night guard and I went back to the quirky dentist. He told me my gums look great. He told me I have beautiful teeth. He also said "You have the mouth of a creative person who is a multi-tasker whose mind never shuts off. If I had a job opening, based on your x-rays, you would be the person I would want to hire." In other words, I grind my teeth.

But here is the good news. In the area of the pain, there is an old filling that needs to be replaced that might be causing some irritation. So, I have two appointments: one to replace the filling and one to have the gap in my tooth the size of a truck bonded. I am not going to need a dental implant! It is not going to be the summer of dental fun and expense.

We Angelenos Are Wacky

2007-06-06T16:37:00.000-07:00

This just in from Yahoo News and all I have to say is, oh my goodness, where am I going to throw my trash now? (The bold is mine, all mine.)

Los Angeles residents were urged on Wednesday to take shorter showers, reduce lawn sprinklers and stop throwing trash in toilets in a bid to cut water usage by 10 percent in the driest year on record.

With downtown Los Angeles seeing a record low of 4 inches

of rain since July 2006 -- less than a quarter of normal -- and with a hot, dry summer ahead, Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa said the city needed "to change course and conserve water to steer clear of this perfect storm."

It is the driest year since rainfall records began 130 years ago.

The Eastern Sierra mountains, where Los Angeles gets about half of its water supply, marked its second-lowest snowpack on record this year.

That and the lack of rainfall could force the nation's second largest city into full drought mode in coming months, officials said.

Below average rainfall for the past few years has also turned the traditional summer southern California fire season into an all-round event. Firefighters battled two major brush fires in May alone, at the Los Angeles landmark Griffith Park and on the tourist island of Catalina.

About Town

2007-05-08T08:43:00.000-07:00

The end of last week turned into "do things I've never done before in Los Angeles week." And I didn't even plan it that way.

On Thursday I was called to a TDM (that's Team Decision Making meeting for those playing at home) about my CASA kid in a place called Santa Fe Springs. I have vaguely heard of Santa Fe Springs. It is southeast of L.A. proper and that is my full and complete knowledge of Santa Fe Springs. The meeting was held in one of those business park type places but as I was driving around I noticed that right next door there was a train exhibit. And being morally and maybe even legally bound by my duties as a docent at Union Station, I knew that after the meeting I would be checking out the train exhibit. Also I made the should-have-been-obvious connection between Santa Fe Springs and the Achison, Topeka, and Santa Fe railway company. I am such a genius.

After the meeting I wandered over to the train exhibit which was actually in a place called Heritage Park which had even more exhibits and a whole park and a cute little cafe and who knew? The things you learn if you just get out of the house once in awhile.

The next day I went to a networking event at the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens and arranged to have tea in their famous and fabulous and heretofore unvisited by me tearoom. The networking event was sponsored by the Metropolitan Water District. They have a huge business outreach program for small and minority owned businesses. The head of the program talked about how MWD is the only business that is actually running a campaign to tell people about NOT using their product. It is conceivable that Los Angeles will lose 40% of their water supply (the part that is purchased from up north) due to a class action suit regarding some environmental problems at the water source (I believe it is causing a type of fish or bird to go extinct.....I need to read up on this.)

The MWD put on the event for free and got us free admission into the Botanical Gardens and library. It was a beautiful day. The tea really was fabulous and I am so glad that I finally got to have this experience. It was interesting from the networking side as well. I don't think I made any good business connections but I learned about government opportunities and got an invitation to another free event at JPL. Did I mention they serve food at these things?

And then Saturday I was invited to a reception in the rare books room of the Los Angeles Central Library downtown. This room is not open to the public. They served us food there which made me really nervous. They also gave us white gloves. The manager of the room had pulled out several items that he thought would be of interest including posters and old books in Spanish from the original settlers that came to Los Angeles. The rare book collection also includes a substantial collection of old menus and he had pulled out the menu for Scandia. Scandia was a restaurant on Sunset Boulevard and it was actually the place where my dad took me for a late dinner on the evening before my 21st birthday and made sure we were there at midnight so I could order my first legitimate drink which I believe was a margarita.

Train exhibits and decision making about the life of a child (more on that in another post), beautiful gardens and networking, eating food in a room full of rare books - what a week, huh?

Dancing

2007-05-03T14:46:00.000-07:00

The invitation to join a friend of mine in VIP seats for "Dancing with the Stars" was extended last week. The instructions stated that the dress code was formal....no jeans allowed. This was clearly a shopping opportunity and I was really pleased to find this perfect dress at Ann Taylor:

And a little jacket to go with it as well because I don't do sleeveless. My friend and I also decided that glitter was key, we wanted to sparkle, so I pulled out all my rhinestones. And I even wore make-up.

We were supposed to arrive at the studio no later than 3:45 so we decided to drive into Hollywood and have lunch first. We sat outside, ordered wine and a cheese platter and watched the people go by. And wondered why so many people weren't at work. And, also, referring to my previous post, reflected on how, yeah, I guess this really is why I work for myself.

At the appointed time, we arrived at the studio and were shown to our seats, right behind the judges. Just before show time, a production type person came over and said "I meant to come by earlier. You guys are going to be on the camera like 99% of the time. You need to sit up straight. And don't chew gum. Believe me, chewing gum does not look good on the camera. You will really, really regret it."

After some discussion with my friend, we decided that the prudent thing for me to do would be to take off my glasses. You know, because I would be so visible. So I really can not tell you much about the actual taping of the show because everything was quite blurry. The only thing I know for certain is that Apolo could fit in my pocket. And Billy Ray is completely obnoxious but the fans just love, love, love him.

When the show ended we were invited to the green room where they had food and drink and the dancers were hanging out. We didn't stay long as we needed to get home and watch ourselves on the TV because the camera was going to be on us like 99% of the time.

The production type person lied. Because this was the results show and not the actual dancing show, the judges were barely on and, when the camera did turn their way, we in the audience were pretty much in the dark. By freezing one frame, I did manage to catch a glimpse of myself. You will have to take my word for it but I looked totally hot. So glad I took those glasses off.

Conversation With A Client

2007-05-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

Me: I'm going to have to leave quickly right after our meeting because I'm going to a taping of "Dancing with the Stars" this afternoon.

Client: Really? That sounds fun.

Me: Yeah, being able to do stuff like that is why I don't work. I mean, why I work independently for myself.

Client: Absolutely!

Pause

Me: Well, actually, I never really thought I'd be going to things like TV show tapings.

Client: Yeah, you probably thought you'd be spending your time reading all the great books.

Me: Something like that.

Stay tuned for the details on the taping....

You'll Never Walk Alone

2007-04-29T07:42:00.000-07:00

I have started watching "American Idol" for the first time since the show has been on the air. A week ago I even picked up the phone and tried to vote for my personal favorite, Jordin Sparks. But I couldn't figure out how. Whatever.

This past Tuesday night Jordin sang "You'll Never Walk Alone." That song is from the musical, Carousel, and it is also the song that the sixth grade graduating class at my elementary school would sing at the end of the graduation ceremony. I have always felt a strong emotional attachment to that song and, you know, I really don't hear it all that often.

The summer after my sixth grade graduation our graduating class was asked to reprise the singing of "You'll Never Walk Alone" for the Paul Mazursky film, Alex in Wonderland. And the big bummer was that my family had chosen this particular summer to take a road trip across the country. To make this trip happen my dad had to miss my graduation. He would drive to Milwaukee in four days with my cousin Joe and then my mom, sister, and I would fly to Milwaukee after the graduation. We would attend our cousin Michael's bar mitzvah and then take several weeks to drive back to Los Angeles.

As you might imagine, the whole scenario was the worse possible tragedy that could happen in my whole pre-teen life. My dad was missing my graduation and I was missing being in a movie with all my friends in order to be stuck in a car with my family which included my sister and which was going to be FOREVER. Obviously my parents should have been reported for child abuse. Except that on the day of my graduation I received a telegram from my father which I still have and which I read so many times that I memorized.

Isn't it funny to look back as an adult and be able to see the big picture and know how things turn out? Because it is possible I wouldn't have been quite so mad and upset if I had known that (a) I would not even recall which family members attended my elementary school graduation but I would cherish the telegram from the one who was not there and (b) at cousin Michael's bar mitzvah my dad would meet a young girl from Chicago and invite her to come to Los Angeles and stay with us and she would accept his invitation and end up marrying into the family and having two children and those four people would be amongst my very favorite people in the world and (c) Alex in Wonderland would totally bomb.

So, after Jordin finished singing You'll Never Walk Alone, even Simon Cowell talked about how old that song is and how Jordin was so amazing that she could record that song and it could be a huge hit. I knew I had to figure out this voting thing because she chose that song and then she sang it even better than my sixth grade graduating class (and you can verify that by renting the Alex in Wonderland DVD although it won't be exactly the same because I'M NOT IN IT.) And that is the long winded story about how and why I voted for an American Idol for the first time ever.

I Have Joined A Cult

2007-04-28T07:12:00.000-07:00

Happily it is a cult that pretty much every I know has already joined. I am the extremely happy and excited owner of a brand new, shiny and silver, MacBook Pro. The ceremony to throw my Dell PC out the window will be happening very soon. That laptop was just a bit over two years old and it was falling apart. Two keys were falling off. But, worse, it was so slow that in the morning when I started it up I would brush my teeth, wash my face, take a shower, eat breakfast and only after that would I be able to sit down and work. The Mac is all booted up and ready to go after one stroke of the toothbrush.

The transfer was relatively painless. My documents and pictures were an easy transfer by disc. After finding instructions on the internet, my Quicken file transfer was a piece of cake. don dokken thought this transfer might be difficult or not work at all so when it was done I ran into the front room where he was watching TV and screamed about the rock star that is me. The only glitch was my music. There was too much to transfer by disc so I transferred directly from my iPod and for whatever reason not all the songs went over, there was a copyright message I believe. That's okay because the next step is to upgrade from the Nano so a whole revamp of the music is in order.

The best, though, is that my brother-in-law sent instructions on how to use the video iChat so I conversed in person-like with my niece and nephew four times yesterday. I saw my nephew's new haircut and tried to make them do tricks like pointing to their nose and clapping and saying my name. We are going to do this everyday and so they are going to grow up remembering me on the TV screen that is their computer every day. Until kruthless and I get bored with it. And with our attention spans that could be by next week.

Color Car

2007-04-20T18:37:00.000-07:00

The street I grew up on was a one block street which saw a lot of traffic because it was a quick way to cut through from one major street to another. My sister and I used to look out the living room window and play a game called "color car" while waiting for my dad to get home from work. We also played this game on road trips. We would each pick a car color and when a car of that color drove down the street or drove by on the highway the picker of that color got to scream "Color car. Color car." As I recall, it wasn't a contest where the person who picked the color that drove by the most won. The reward was the shear joy of being able to scream "Color car. Color car." Picking the color white was forbidden.

Today I got home and I just had a feeling that the toilet pipes were getting ready to back up and it was time to have the clean-out thingy snaked. So I called the plumber and then waited. It was a grey and rainy day and I sat on the couch, peering out of the living room window and for some reason (well, I think the reason was that I was bored and restless and looking out of the living room window) decided that I needed to play color car and that my color should be red since that was the color of the plumber's truck.

Three red cars came by before the plumber arrived and all three times I yelled "Color car. Color car" and all three times Rudy came running so it was like I was really playing color car with someone. Okay, I know it sounds a little wacky and maybe I need to get out more but it was good clean fun on a rainy day and anyway here's a picture of Rudy playing color car:

RIP Ed

2007-04-11T14:07:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow would have been my dad's 78th birthday. So it was ironic and coincidental that the condo that he lived in for thirty years and which was a big part of his life, our lives, and his death was going to have their annual homeowner's association meeting on that day. I thought it would be the perfect way for me to "celebrate" his birthday - attend the homeowner's meeting and then don dokken and I were going to go to one of my dad's nearby old haunts and have a meal in his memory.

But the meeting has been postponed because another person in the building has died.

Ed got up last Thursday morning, got his newspaper, poured a glass of orange juice and had a massive stroke. A concerned co-worker showed up at the building hours later and he and one of the building's residents went inside Ed's unit and found him slumped over in his chair with the open newspaper and the glass of orange juice. He was not officially dead but brain dead or whatever when the paramedics arrived (and from the moment he had the stroke) and he died in the hospital on Easter Sunday. His parents are both dead. He was an only child. He had no children. He had two cats although he had to put one to sleep a few weeks before he died. We won't talk about the other cat. Ed was 54 years old.

Dependency Justice

2007-04-06T08:51:00.000-07:00

I usually need to go to court for my CASA cases every six months or so for an RPP (Review of Permanent Plan) hearing. However, the case I have been on for the last year has been going poorly and the Judge has been ordering every other week progress hearings. During these hearings, she spends about a half an hour berating the social worker and the social worker's boss and the social worker's boss' boss off the record and, when she is done, she then proceeds to berate them for an additional hour on the record. By the way, social workers usually don't come to court, they just submit a report, but the Judge has been ordering the social worker and her boss and her boss' boss and probably soon the boss' boss' boss to appear because she is clearly very, very angry.

The issue is that the social workers seem hellbent on not allowing this child to be placed with her grandmother. The child is 10 years old and she is highly unadoptable. But a year ago this grandmother, who had lost touch with her granddaughter, found where she was and came forward as a person who wants to adopt her. The grandmother is not perfect. She has had inconsistencies and allegations about her in the past. Along with that, the sticking point for the social workers seems to be that her house is not big enough and that their rules and regulations say that they can not place a child in a house where they will be sharing a room with an adult. And we all just need to ignore the reality that there are lots of really large famillies living in really small spaces in this county. The Grandmother can not afford to move to a 3 bedroom house (she is now renting two bedrooms and has two of her grandsons living in one of them) and the Judge says week after week after week that the social workers need to either figure out a way to get Grandmother into a situation where she can afford a 3 bedroom house or get some kind of waiver on the bedroom sharing thing.

I learned early on with this Judge to not speak unless spoken to so I sit in the proceedings and just kind of nod at her because she really gets the case and most everything that comes out of her mouth is exactly the same as the thought going through my head. She understands that it would be detrimental to move this child to anywhere but her grandmother's house. And she understands that if the grandmother does not adopt this child, she will never be adopted, she will be institutionalized the rest of her life and then set out when she turns 18 with probably nothing and no one.

We go to court again next week and I have a feeling that there will be two hours of yelling off the record and three hours of yelling on the record because the social workers just don't get it and arrived at the place where my CASA kid lives without telling her therapist or her attorney or me or anyone and brought along a potential foster parent and introduced the child to this foster parent, telling her that her grandmother is just not ready to have her come live there.

When I visited my CASA kid a few weeks ago before the last progress hearing we were reminiscing about how she used to go AWOL from the place where she lives but she doesn't anymore and she told me that she owes that all to her Grandmother who taught her about the consequences of her actions. She also told me to tell the Judge that she wants to live with her Grandmother. After the visit from the social worker and the foster parent, her therapist told me that her behavior has regressed - that she is having tantrums and refusing to do her homework because, what the heck, she doesn't have to follow their rules, she's going to be leaving to go live with the foster parent lady.

I went to see her yesterday and expected to see an emotionally traumatized kid. The first thing she said to me, though, was "Guess what? My social worker came the other day with a really, really nice lady who's going to be my foster mother and guess what? She has a pool!" I asked her if she was sure she wanted to leave the place where she is currently living and she said "Yeah, I've been here a long time." I said, "So you want me to tell the Judge that you want to live with this lady." She said, "Oh yeah, she said I'm going to have my own room." And she did say to tell the Judge that when her grandmother is ready she would like to go live with her.

The thing is that the place where she is living now has it all. They have an on-site school that caters to her special needs. They have nurses who make sure she takes her meds. They have a psychiatrist who comes every month and monitors those meds. She has an on-site therapist who she talks to several times a week and they have also provided her grandmother with a family therapist who is teaching grandmother all the parenting skills she needs to work with this child. The people at this place have known this child for a long time and are invested in her future. Their hope was that the child would move in with grandmother in the summer but continue to attend their summer school (to which they would provide the transportation) to make the transition less abrupt. All this effort of coordination and single service provider will be lost if the child is moved to a foster home.

I have to go write my report for next week's progress hearing now.

Where There's Smoke

2007-03-31T17:47:00.000-07:00

My eye doctor works out of two offices, one within walking distance of my house, the other not too far away in Burbank. I saw him on Thursday near my house and he wanted a follow-up appointment for Friday afternoon in his office in Burbank.

This worked out perfectly as I had been invited to have lunch with a group of people in Burbank and lunch and an eye doctor appointment were good diversions from the hell of not being able to read. As I left the lunch and headed for the doctor's office, I noticed a lot of smoke coming off of the hills up ahead. As I got closer, I could see the flames.

I turned on Newsradio just as the announcer said "And now for a special report on the fire in the Cahuenga Pass." I naively took this to mean that there would be a newsperson doing some actual reporting on the news that was the fire but instead they went to a hysterical woman named Maria who was screaming incoherently something like, "OH MY GOD, I never seen anything like this. There is fire. And it is so close and OH MY GOD. I have never seen anything like this. It is red. The fire. And OH MY GOD."

By this time I had pulled into a strip mall as I had time before the doctor and needed to stop at the ATM. There were several people standing outside looking at the fire, taking pictures with their cellphones, and talking on the cellphones. And I realized that one of them could be Maria. And then I realized that from my vantage point I was just as qualified as Maria to call up Newsradio and "report" on the fire and, if I did, I could say things like 'OH MY GOD, I just got my car washed and now it is being covered with ashes from the fire" or "OH MY GOD, I have a damaged cornea and the smoke from this fire is just about killing my eye." In the end, I decided not to unleash my news coverage of the fire on the listening public. I did, however, take this picture with my cell phone.

The Eyes of March

2007-03-30T08:41:00.000-07:00

So I was innocently sitting in my hotel room in the desert on Tuesday night, watching TV, when it felt like something like an eyelash had fallen into my left eye. I looked, saw nothing, tried to flush my eye but the uncomfortable feeling remained. It was late, I went to sleep, thinking that whatever it was would work itself out by morning.

It was still there in the morning. But I soldiered on....Julie and I went to aerobics class and then to the spa. By this time I decided that what I was having was an allergy attack from the weird weather even though I have never really had an allergy attack before. At the spa, I went into the eucalyptus sauna and the mineral baths thinking this would all be good for my allergy problem. Julie and I went out to breakfast and then I drove home.

It was 2 1/2 hours of discomfort and pain. While driving, I called my eye doctor's office and espoused my theory about the allergies and is it possible to have allergies in one eye? They said that it is, especially with this weird weather, that I should take Claritin and if the pain was still there I could come see the doctor in the morning. They said as long as my vision wasn't effected, it wasn't an emergency.

I got home, took a Clairitin and went to sleep. In the morning, things were worse. I went into the doctor. They did a vision test and I guess I am no judge of vision impairment because I could not see the bottom line with my left eye anymore. It turns out I had scratched my cornea. At first, the doctor could not find anything in my eye to cause the cornea scratch but then he said "Okay, I am going to flip your eyelid over and see if there is anything there." I said, "I wish you hadn't told me that." He said, "Oh, wait, look, there is a foreign object in there." He pulled it out and showed me - it was a little black thing, the size of a poppy seed, if that. One little poppy seed sized thingy, causing all that pain and trauma. He gave me two different kinds of eye medication to use every couple of hours and told me to go home and lie down. I have to go see him again today. I guess he is taking this seriously.

All I will say is that not being able to read is my idea of Hell, always has been, but on the positive side I am now the most well rested person in all of the world as I went to sleep yesterday afternoon and did not wake up until 7:00 this morning. There really was nothing else I could do.

Spring Break

2007-03-27T17:01:00.000-07:00

So I thought I would get away for a little fun in the sun, my semi-annual trip to the desert, but those are not even raindrops you are seeing in this picture. Julie and I took a field trip up to the high desert and as we walked into our first shop, snow started falling. We ducked into one of my favorite coffee houses, Water Canyon Coffee, and sat upstairs, watched the snow, had some soup and coffee. I have seen falling snow exactly three times in my whole life and two of those times were this year. I do believe this is proof that the globe is warming. Or that I am doing a lot more traveling in the winter.

The snow stopped and we decided to continue to go up the mountain to Pioneer Town. Julie pointed to the outdoor temperature gauge in her car and told me to let her know if it got to 32 degrees because, if so, we would turn back immediately before everything would turn to ice and she did not feel like slipping and sliding down the road. I watched the temperature drop from 41 to 35 but we did not need to turn back. And I am so glad we didn't. I had never been to Pioneer Town before. There was a fire there last year (or was it the year before?) and the snow on the burnt out trees with the stunning rock formations was worth the risk of getting caught in a snowstorm.

On the way here I stopped again at the Morongo Casino and proceeded to lose $20. There is a casino across the street from my hotel and this morning on my walk I stopped in. I accidentally sat down at a $1 video poker machine rather than my usual 25 cent machine. I immediately won $60. It proves what I know to be true but am always too chicken to put into practice - you can only win big if you bet big.

Uncomplicated Grief

2007-03-25T08:52:00.000-07:00

I am finally at the point where I can put most of my dad's files in the garage but last night I wanted to have one last look before deciding what should stay in the house, what should be thrown away, what stored. It wasn't a particularly easy day to begin with. It was my niece and nephew's one year birthday party and of course there were several mentions of my dad. My Uncle pointed out that it was the first time he had walked into my sister's house without seeing my dad in his scooter parked in the family room. My sister's mother-in-law said she really believed that his spirit was there watching. And don dokken gave a gift of magnetic yiddish phrases to the mother of the birthday kids and everyone agreed that no one would have loved those more than my dad. Also, for some reason, I woke up that morning and got myself furious all over again with the people who had transporated the flowers from my dad's grave to his house on the day of the funeral against our wishes.

In going through the files, I found the notebook that the hospice kept that for some reason we were told not to destroy for two years. I had never read the pages written by the hospice people on the day before and the day of his death. The nurse who was with us when he died wrote that he died peacefully with his family unit with him including me, his next of kin. She wrote that the family expressed "uncomplicated grief." I did not know what that meant but I thought it made us sound so....simple?

So of course I googled "uncomplicated grief" and learned that uncomplicated grief is actually "normal" grief and that us expressing "uncomplicated grief" meant this:

The first phase is one of shock. This phase begins immediately after a loss and it generally lasts two weeks or less. During this period the survivor is often in a state of numbed disbelief. Somatic symptoms include crying, dysphagia, chest tightness, nausea, and a sensation of abdominal emptiness. Individuals may feel lost, dazed, stunned, helpless, and disorganized.

Evidence from the files going out to the garage show that the "helpless and disorganized" part is not true. Looking back, I can not believe the business I took care of on the day that he died. I won't paste in the next two phases of uncomplicated grief but I will say that we are still uncomplicated in our grieving and right on track and that my anger at the flower people is all part of the Phase 2 process. I am so glad I found this as both my doctor and the pamphlet from my health insurance provider led me to believe that all this nonsense should have been over with at the six month point on March 8th.

Killjoy Me

2007-03-19T17:33:00.000-07:00

I had a visit with my CASA kid today. We were sitting outside, it was kind of chilly, so she suggested we go to the cafeteria. She said there was a new machine there and you could get hot chocolate. Except it cost 25 cents. I told her I thought I could spring for that. We got there and it was a machine that dispenses fancy coffee and hot chocolate and it was not 25 cents, it was 50 cents, but I bought it for her anyway along with a Chai for myself which was so sweet that I had to throw it away.

We went back outside with our hot drinks and after a short while she told me that the doctor had told her that she needs to exercise and lose some weight and he had suggested that she walk around their campus twice a day. So we went for a walk and I soon realized that this was not really about following the doctor's advice but was all about showing off her hot chocolate. I realized this because walking around the path was definitely the place to see and be seen and every time we passed someone she would say, "Hey. Have you tried the hot chocolate from the new machine? See, I have one right here. My CASA bought it for me. It cost 50 cents." We ended up walking around the campus three times instead of the prescribed two so she could share the joy with as many people as possible. And not one of them had tried the hot chocolate from the new machine but everyone agreed that it looked really good.

I could not, however, stop myself from telling her at the end of the visit that, if she was really serious about losing weight, hot chocolate was not the best choice of beverages. She looked shocked and really puzzled and I think that until that moment she truly believed that hot chocolate had the same nutritional value as spinach. However something must have clicked because after thinking for a moment the puzzled look disappeared and she started listing all the kids who live there who are diabetic.

Rudy Update

2007-03-17T18:29:00.000-07:00

I know Rudy looks all dejected and sad in this picture as opposed to the picture in the previous post where he is at least much more alert. Well, I think he is getting kind of depressed. You see, he has developed a "seroma" which happens a lot after surgery especially to active dogs. It is basically the surgical site filling up with fluid. I took him to the ER the other night and they drained it but the next day it started filling up again. Look, here's a picture:

Nasty, huh? I took Rudy to see his wacky vet today who said there is nothing to do. There's no point in draining it again. He also gave me the news that we will be postponing the removal of the stitches for another couple of days. That news, coupled with the just as distressing rumors that Veronica Mars is going to be cancelled, is really making for sad times at our house.

Rudy Conehead Aviator Braveheart

2007-03-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

Rudy had surgery to remove a "large mass" near his ribcage last week. Actually, he had more than that. They also cleaned his teeth, did some sort of gum procedure, did an ultrasound and a urinanalysis. And he wasn't even under general anesthetic, just sedated and the paperwork said something about "morphine."

A new (to us) vet performed the surgery. Rudy had the same vet since two days after I got him and, I won't go into too much detail, but basically she stopped being a good communicator. And also the last time we went in there was undigested dog food vomit behind the reception desk. When I pointed it out to the people that work there, they said the vomit was from the vet's dog that he vomited up his food and then ate the vomited food. "That's just what he does," the receptionist said. Which is fine, I guess, but it seems a little uncouth to just let your dog vomit at your workplace.

The new vet is a bit of a drive but came highly, highly recommended. His associate had done the initial consultation so when we went in for the surgery, the vet was meeting him for the first time. I felt like I was on an episode of Grey's Anatomy as the technician introduced the doctor to Rudy, "This is Rudy. He is here today for a mass removal and a teeth cleaning. There is also a possible issue of crystals." The doctor looked at Rudy and said, "Hello, Howard Hughes." He then checked him out and took him away saying, "Don't worry, we'll move him into the 21st century." I thought he was a bit eccentric but in a good way.

I did not understand the Howard Hughes reference until I picked him up and then I was mortified. It was Rudy's long nails which they had trimmed in a way that Rudy's nails have never been trimmed before. They were short, neat, and perfect. Rudy was loopy for the first few days after the surgery but he adjusted well to his conehead. For some reason it calms him down. Without it on, he paces. Since he can't see anything with it on, he usually just curls up and goes to sleep.

We went for a one week follow up yesterday. And here's where I have to brag about Rudy's apparent genius. The two other times we were there when they called his name they immediately took him to the scale to be weighed. So this time when they came to take him he walked right to the scale and sat down. They said that he is a very smart boy. His gums look great but the surgery site is swollen. The doctor is not worried, though. I said (and I do not know why) "Well, he seems great. He just seems very happy." And the doctor said, "Well, he's very, very brave. Far braver than I could ever be." I am not sure how to take that especially since I was just making toast and Rudy bolted out of the kitchen in fear when the toast popped.

Side 'Do

2007-03-08T07:14:00.000-08:00

Many years ago I was working for a company that had casual Fridays and one casual Friday I was unexpectedly called into a meeting with the CFO. I was ranting and raving to the guy who had been called to go with me (he was a dweeb then but is now a big mucky muck who I sometimes read about in the business section of the paper) about how I would have dressed differently if I knew this meeting was going to be happening. The dweeb/future mucky muck was quite amused. As much as I tried to explain the difference between just seeing someone and having to be taken seriouly in a meeting, he could not understand what the difference would have been if I had just run into the CFO in the hall. Bottom line, he said, I shouldn't have dressed in a way I did not want to be seen. Period. And I do know it is true that some people put on full make-up and get all decked out just to go to the market but that clearly is not me.

Last weekend I was reading Crazy Aunt Purl and she mentioned the "side ponytail" in her post. I hadn't thought about side ponytails in a long time and for some reason thought it would be "fun" to put my hair up into one. Because I can. So I did and then I went out for my walk.

I was heading back home when I realized that someone was running after me and calling my name. I did not hear him initially because I was rocking out to Tom Jones singing "What's New Pussycat?" on my iPod. It was a client. We started chatting about weighty matters like PC versus Mac and whether one of his employees was a good manager when I caught sight of my shadow and remembered that my hair was in a side ponytail. OMG, I was talking to a big client with my hair in a side ponytail. Mortified. The only saving grace was that the rest of me actually looked okay.

Resourcefulness And Weird Dreams

2007-02-23T06:57:00.000-08:00

I got an email yesterday which had my dad's name in all caps as the subject. It was from a man in Tennessee who was not sure he had the right person but who had met my parents on a cruise and had just found out my dad had passed away. He wanted to know how to get in touch with my mother and wanted to offer his condolences. He said he had only known my dad for a few years but considered him a friend and would have liked to have spent more time with him.

The most intriguing thing about the email was the address to which it was sent. It was sent to my business but not even to my own business email but to the general "info" address. That address is only on my website and on my brochures. So either my dad was handing out my brochures on the cruise (which would only be possible if I had given him any which I did not) or the guy googled me. Although I can barely find myself via googling - a lot of people have my same name. Plus how did he know my name? I did write back and asked him how he found me. I hope he responds.

And how did he hear that my dad died? It could be he called my dad's phone number. My sister and I, because we are cuckoo, asked the people who rented my dad's place if they would keep his phone number. They were amenable but then said the phone company wouldn't let them. So we MADE my dad's assistant work her magic with the phone company and it was all good. We have known that number for 30 years and we could not bear the idea of letting another thing go. And we are cuckoo.

I am sure that receiving the email, the weird death scenes on Grey's Anatomy last night, and trying to figure out what to put on my dad's marker led to the strange dream I had last night. I won't go into all the weird detail but basically, in the dream, I went to find my dad's unmarked grave and there was a piece of cardboard that had his last name which I moved and my dad got up and he was alive. I believe we went shopping and he was on the cell phone calling people and telling them he was back. I pointed out to him that he was walking and didn't need his scooter. He said something very angry about all those wasted years on the scooter. Then we went back to his condo. The tenants didn't live there. It was mainly empty. We went into the room that used to be the office and somehow he got blood on the carpet and I thought about how his assistant was going to be upset because she had just got the carpet cleaned. Then he was watching TV with some headphones and he started to sound very angry about the sound quality.

Random things happened. I found a cigarette butt and got upset with him for smoking (I think this came in because I had been talking to someone about the people she worked with who took a cigarette break every hour. Whenever I see people smoking I think about how my dad quit when he was in his forties and still got lung cancer and emphysema and I want to say "I see an oxygen tank in your future.) At one point I was going to go into the living room to check the phone messages to see if any of the people he called had called back. He asked for a catheter. I could sense he was fading and I took his cold, cold hand and said "I miss you more than I ever thought possible." And then I woke up.

I knew right away I had a strange dream but it took me a moment to remember. It was really an unpleasant dream because he was not happy at all. He was very curt and angry. And then I got mad at myself because I had spent the whole time we were together worrying about logistics - how were we going to put back together everything we had taken apart? - and hadn't asked the important questions like "what do you want us to write on the marker?"

How I Blew My 15 Minutes Of Fame

2007-02-21T08:18:00.000-08:00

Some of you might remember that last spring I started this blog about rude cell phone behavior. I did not receive overwhelming positive feedback about it, I was starting my business, my dad was sick so I let it go. No, those are just excuses. I gave up too soon. I also stopped checking the email account associated with that blog on a regular basis. For some reason this morning I thought to take a look. And there were several emails from a Wall Street Journal reporter sent in December and early January. She said that my blog would be perfect for an article she was writing.

I wrote her back immediately knowing it was too late. She wrote me back with a copy of the article which was on the front page of The Wall Street Journal. She was right. Rude cell phone would have fit right in - it was all about using blogs to complain about people's behaviors.

Lessons learned:

1. I give up too easily.
2. I should trust my instincts. (I knew it was a good idea!)
3. I need to check all my email accounts in the same obsessive manner with which I check my business email.

don dokken thought I was upset because I missed having my name published in the Wall Street Journal. That's not it at all. I missed out on having a hobby of writing a blog become maybe a tad more than a hobby.

I am going to resurrect rude cell phone. The WSJ reporter told me to please write if I have any other great ideas. She's always looking for them.

Speculating

2007-02-20T07:48:00.000-08:00

"There was a death last week. There will be a death this week. At least one of those will stick." That's from Watch with Kristin on Yahoo and she is talking about "Grey's Anatomy." Stephanie and I got together at a new bar/restuarant in Toluca Lake (Lucy's 51, which I highly recommend. The women to the right of us were drinking bloody mary's and wine and planning a week of detox. The woman to the left of us must have had a stake in the place because she insisted on giving us a tour - it's only one not so big room - and emphasized how perfect the place is for production meetings.)

Stephanie and I spent a great deal of time thinking back to the table read and trying to remember who was not there (this taxed our memories greatly because that was like two weeks ago...) Stephanie had heard that two people definitely die and that two of the interns get together. Regarding the death, we came up with two names:

1. Meredith's mother
2. Alex

They were the only two who were not at the table read. Meredith's mother makes sense. As for Alex, wait, they are just making him interesting. And Stephanie pointed out that he's been married to an African American woman for thirteen years and they have five children (just to be clear, she was referring to the actor not the character) so he's a nice man who really needs the gig.

As for the Interns who get together, well if Alex is gone, that means it's George and someone else and I totally vote for Izzy. I told you I saw them smoking together!

These are the important matters that keep me up at night. (That and why hasn't the accountant finished the taxes, it's been a week dammit.) Discuss.

Wishes Do Come True

2007-02-13T08:09:00.000-08:00

Many years ago I took a little girl I was babysitting to Disneyland. When we got to the Snow White fountain I gave her a penny and told her to make a wish. Many weeks later I was at her house when she started sobbing and carrying on and the reason for her upset was the unfairness of a world where you make a wish and it does not come true. She had wished for a certain pair of new shoes and every morning she would run to the closet and see if they were there and they were never there. I told her that wishes do come true but some times you have to wait a really, really long time. That little girl is now about thirty years old and the last I heard living in Santa Cruz. I have not talked to her in a really long time so I do not know if she ever got that pair of shoes but I sure hope so.

I have had many years of birthdays and on some birthdays I have had multiple pieces of cake with a candle and I do not believe that one wish I have made while blowing out a candle has ever come true. But last Saturday night on my birthday I was presented with a piece of cake and I guess my luck has changed.

I believe that the reason my wish came true is because it was extremely specific. In the past, my wishes have been very vague. I can't be specific (because, you know, maybe they are just taking a really, really long time to kick in) but say for example you wish to win $1,000,000 in the lottery. I think you must need to say specifically which lottery and when and what lottery is exactly $1,000,000 anyway?

My wish was kind of nerdy and simple. I wished that I would receive in the mail on Monday the 1099 form for my Dad's long term care insurance so that I could mail his taxes out to the accountant. And on Monday, there it finally was. Some might say that I wasted a wish but for me there is nothing better than crossing something so important off my list.

Words of Wisdom

2007-02-12T07:39:00.000-08:00

I really have no experience being a recruiter. However, I have many clients who ask me to find people for them. And I have been quite successful. I had one client who hired the first person he interviewed, forcing me to cancel all the other people I had lined up. I am thinking of starting up another separate consulting business just for recruiting.

I have posted here before (sorry, can't link, blogger is being weird again today) about the crazy and wacky things people write on their resumes and cover letters. I think there should be a mandatory class for college seniors about what to write on a resume and what to say and not say on an interview.

I have no resumes to share from my latest search for a marketing person but here are two words of advice:

- Yeah, it's great to have a "story" about why you are leaving your current job. But it is important to listen before just parroting your story. Because when I go into a detailed description about the company and state several times that it is a small company and then ask you why you want to leave your current job, answering "It's a small company and I really want to work for a big company where there's room to grow," just isn't going to get you to the next phase in the interview process.

- Beware of google and the internet. I google all potential candidates. One woman, who looked ideal on paper, had written a review on amazon.com that referred to "insensitive employers" and gave away some personal information that made me decide to pass on her. So, people, how hard is it to use a fake name and location when posting things on the internet? In fact, if this woman had just used her first name, I would never have found her. A friend of mine told me she interviewed a guy who she was ready to hire. And then she googled him and found his My Space page on which he listed "recreational drug use" as one of his hobbies.

People scare me.

McDreamy, McSteamy, And All The Other Mcs

2007-02-05T15:39:00.000-08:00

Stephanie left this message on my voice mail last week:

"Monday. 12:30. You'll come to the lot for lunch. We'll position ourselves at a table right outside the commissary. Dress warmly. At 1:00 the cast of Grey's Anatomy will be there. They will ignore us."

Or maybe she said "they will walk right by us."

In any event, I cancelled a client meeting and went.

By 12:45 we were casually eating at our station directly opposite the one and only door into the commissary which was where they were having their table read. I was facing the door and Stephanie faced the direction from which they would be arriving so she could announce who was who since I can only recognize people if they look exactly the same as they do when I see them on TV.

Almost immediately she told me that McDreamy was heading our way. When he was directly in front of me someone to the right of me shouted out "Congratulations," he said "thanks," I thought, "I could have said congratulations" and then I looked to the right and realized that the congratulator was George who was sitting on a bench with Izzie. They were both smoking. Which was disappointing. Because, you know, they're doctors.

But who had time to ponder because next up was McSteamy who looks even better in person. In fact, they all looked better and smaller in person which makes me think they are putting way too much make-up on them or something. The one who looked the most better, by the way, was Callie who was amazingly fresh faced and gorgeous in person. But I think they do that on purpose. And I didn't recognize the Chief which Stephanie explained was because he had dyed and cut his hair.

I turned to Stephanie and said "Where's Christina?" and Christina rounded a corner.

A group of them walked into the commissary and McDreamy held the door open. Before he walked in, he opened the door wide, turned around and looked right at me and smiled. I, of course, quickly looked down because I am a dork. If I had waved, I know he would have waved back.

"There's Meredith," Stephanie said. "She's late." I think Ellen Pompeo must be just like her character because she looked all twisty and agitated and she was greeted at the commissary door by someone who said "You're late." But she was not the last to arrive. That was Burke. "Yay," Stephanie said. "He's back from rehab." He opened the door for a guy who may or may not have been gay.

"Why are some of them (McDreamy, George, Burke, Addison, McSteamy)wearing their scrubs for a table read?" I asked Stephanie.

Shrug. "Maybe that's just what they like to wear."

I saw all of them. Every single one of them. I even saw Meredith's father. I even saw Shonda Rhimes.

Stephanie and I went for a walk around the lot. She introduced me to her boss and told him how discreetly we had sat and watched the cast. "Are you going to take her and show her where the guy blew up last year? Everyone loves seeing that." I started jumping up and down. "Yeah, I want to see where Kyle Chandler turned into pink cloud." (Hmmm...I don't think I got that exactly right. Pink Cloud was actually the name of the guy who lived in the basement of my sister's dorm at UC Berkeley. Don't ask.)

We saw Joe's bar, we saw the locker room, we saw a bunch of creepy operating rooms, and finally the hallway where Kyle Chandler evaporated.

Stephanie said she'd let me know when they have their next table read in the commissary and next time I swear I will wave at McDreamy.

Minneapolis

2007-01-23T07:00:00.000-08:00

I realized that this was my fourth trip to MInneapolis but the first time in the Winter and the first time for a funeral. On the way to LAX, don dokken, my mom and I stopped for dinner and we talked about Aunt Ruth. The ultimate word we decided described her was "accepting." The last time I saw Aunt Ruth was when she and Naomi came to visit two weeks before my dad died. Unfortunately, the sight of my dad and the talk of his starting morphine, upset her greatly and when I walked into his house I thought we were going to have to call 911 for her. She so upset my dad that my job for the rest of the night was to keep her away from him. So I was mainly with him in his bedroom and did not really get to talk to her. I was supposed to have breakfast with her and Naomi the morning they left but that was the morning that don dokken's aunt died. So I never even said goodbye. Naomi called from the airport just before they left but I don't think I even talked to Aunt Ruth directly. I just wasn't thiinking straight. And I feel pretty sad about that.

But, about the trip:

- Mom and I took the red-eye and arrived at the airport very early. I had my eyes closed around 10:30 or so when my phone rang. It was my ab fab real estate partner, Helen, who is now a jet setting flight attendant. As we were talking, my friends Carol and Eric walked by back from a trip to Hawaii. I literally hung up from Helen and ran after them. It was great to see them and felt like a really good omen.

- My mom and I weren't sitting next to each other because we booked separately. And because she doesn't like to sit next to me because I always take medication and fall asleep. That seems pretty appropriate for a red-eye but whatever. For no particiular reason or maybe because of the aforementioned medication, I asked the guy next to me how they are able to dig graves in Minneapolis (or anywhere) in the winter after a huge snow storm (this was not the case this weekend. I was just being hypothetical). He told me that only the first inch or two of ground is hard and they have special equipment for that.

- I accidentally left my gloves in the lobby of the hotel and when I went to find them at the front desk and told her they were black gloves she said they had a lot of those in the lost and found. I told her that they looked like they belonged to someone from California and she went right to them.

- Each of Aunt Ruth's three children gave a eulogy and they all talked about her accepting nature. They also talked about how she spent so much of her time taking care of others (mainly her husband) and not enough time taking care of herself or doing the things that she wanted to do.

- After the service, we drove to the graveside and there was a lightly falling snow. The funeral director apologized to the people from California for the lack of sunshine but the cemetary looked much more beautiful this way. Another thing I remember about Aunt Ruth is that she would never admit the winters in Minneapolis were cold. We would hear about a huge snowstorm and below freezing temperatures and she would say they were having a "mild winter."

- My mother refused many offers of rides to the aiport so we took the super shuttle. Our shuttle driver was late and apparently had no idea where the airport was. This made me very anxious. When we got to the airport and were exiting the van onto the icy road, he did not even offer to help with our bags. I told my mother she is never to turn down a ride to the airport again.

Getting Priorities Straight

2007-01-22T08:52:00.000-08:00

My mom and I flew to Minneapolis for the funeral of my dad's eldest sister, Aunt Ruth. I will post more about Aunt Ruth and the funeral but for now one story. On the morning of the funeral, the plan was for the family to gather at my cousin Naomi's house so we could ride together in a limo to the funeral home. My mom and I made plans to drive with my cousin Michael and his family to Naomi's house. We were all in the car, ready to go, when my mom realized she did not have her scarf. I said I would go look in the hotel lobby and Michael asked that I make sure the car trunk was properly closed.

As you can see from the picture I've posted, we had some snow. So I gingerly walked to the back of the car, opened and closed the trunk,and then even more gingerly walked through the ice and snow to the hotel entrance, walked into the hotel lobby and then promptly slid on the marble floor and fell hard on my butt. The entire hotel staff came running, it was very embarrassing and I was fine except for the huge bruise on my butt.

When I got back to the car with my mother's scarf, I told everyone how I had slipped and fallen on my butt. They looked alarmed, inquired if I was okay. Except, of course, my mother,who turned to me and anxiously asked "So what about the trunk door? Are you sure it's closed?"

It Really Is A New Year

2007-01-12T19:52:00.000-08:00

One of the things about the purge of 2006 is that I really cleaned out my kitchen. That meant that I got rid of a lot of clutter and old food and now things are arranged so that if I need to get to something I don't have to go through a pile of clutter first. My empty cupboards inspired me to shop and fill them with healthy staples. My kitchen has become, as kruthless might say, somewhat "nurturing." So here was the conversation with don dokken tonight:

Me: Do you want me to make some pasta for dinner?

dd: I'm not sure what that means.

Me: I thought I would cook some pasta for dinner. Do you want some?

dd: I'm still really confused. And scared.

Me: Okay, I'm going to cook some pasta and if all goes well, maybe you'll have some?

All went well. We had pasta with broccoli and it was good. But I still say that the time spent cooking and then cleaning up afterwards is hardly worth the effort.

And the cooking is not all that is new in 2007. Those who know me will be shocked (SHOCKED), that I now own three (THREE) pairs of jeans. You see,my big problem has always been that any pair of pants that fit in the hips were too big in the waist and vice versa. But apparently in the 20 years since I last bought jeans they have invented these things called "low riders" which sit on your hips and the waist does not even fit into the equation. I bought the jeans in San Francisco on a shopping expedition with Sandra, Claire, and don dokken. I would like to thank them profusely as I can tell already that this new development is going to be life altering.

Happy New Year

2007-01-04T07:11:00.000-08:00

I wanted to post this several days ago but Cingular was not cooperating and I could not get this picture out of the camera phone until now. As you can see, Eva and Isaac were rooting for Wisconsin. Eva is wearing the Badger cap and Isaac is wearing the colors (although there was some confusion about the colors because the other team - Alabama? Arkansas? - was similarly colored.) This picture was taken shortly before my mother dropped Eva on her head in what she called a "fun game." She claims the game was ruined by me and Karen's screams when Eva's head hit the tile because we startled Eva and made her cry. She did, however, later admit that Eva gave her a very dirty look.

Rudy's Are The Best

2006-12-30T16:01:00.000-08:00

Well, he may be bad but he sure is popular. Here's the latest invite that showed up in my inbox:

Yippee!

Rudy has invited Rudy to join the Dogster Group called The Rudy Club!

Here is the group's welcome introduction:
Hi and welcome to the Rudy club. Open to all dogs called Rudy
because Rudy's are the best! Please feel free to share everything you
love about your Rudy to all the other Rudy's!

Here is the group's description:
Any dog with the name Rudy.

Here is the group's tagline:
Rudy's are the best!

Well, I guess there's nothing to say but "yippee!"

End of the Year

2006-12-29T07:35:00.000-08:00

The cleaning of my office went so well that the purge continued through last week. Things accomplished:
-Eliminated 26 bags of clothes
-Got rid of the Sony black and white television that was bought for my Grandfather before he died. In 1968
-Jewelry is now displayed in a way that I actually know what I have...necklaces are hanging from a tie rack, rings are with rings, bracelets with bracelets and everything now fits into one jewelry box
-Scarfs are hanging from a scarf hanger, shoes are in a shoe organizer
-Hats, gloves, handkerchiefs,and purses are all in separate labeled containers
-Seasonal stuff does not have to live in the house all the time. They are now in labeled containers in the garage. That would include Rudy's Chanukah bells and his "Fleas Navidad" scarf.
-Dishes that I did not want to use because they are too pretty are out of their boxes and being displayed and used

This is a key point so I will repeat. I was not using things because I liked them too much. I now understand that I need to use them, enjoy them, and if they break, remember them fondly.

I have rearranged some furniture. Because I no longer have clothes from the 1980's, I do not need the huge chest of drawers that was in my bedroom, taking up lots of room and semi-blocking the closet door. I swapped it out for a smaller piece from the same set (my grandparents) that I had moved from my dad's place into the garage.

Can I even begin to describe how nice it is to go into the New Year with so much less junk and feeling so much more organized?

My dad's assistant, who was the mastermind behind all these changes told me that I have so many neat things in my kitchen that I should have more parties. So last Friday I had a little birthday party for Stephanie who turned 60 at the beginning of this month. It was me, Steph, and don dokken and Rudy. I brewed some mulled cider, added brandy, served some snacks. We tried for several hours to think of just one movie that any of us were interested in seeing. We even pulled out the computer for research. Sadly, there are none.

The next day a company called Shred-it came to implement the final stage of the purge. They took all my bags and boxes of shredding which included papers from the 1980's, court documents for my CASA work that were supposed to be destroyed when the cases ended, and confidential client paperwork that I no longer needed. Shred-it pulls up in a big truck and then you watch as they shred your papers in a huge machine that lives in the truck. The machine is so powerful that they don't bother taking the paper out of the boxes - they just throw in the boxes in and the machine shreds the boxes and their contents. The paper is then all taken to be recycled. And they handed me a letter of certification which I can show my clients and proof that their documents were sensitively handled.

don dokken and I spent Christmas with his mom in San Diego. On Christmas Day night we sat out on her patio, played ball with Rudy, and watched the sunset while drinking a glass of wine. Then we had Chinese food.

Rudy Bad

2006-12-23T07:28:00.000-08:00

I did promise in my December 2nd post that I would talk about the bad thing that Rudy did. I think that might be why I then gave up posting. Talking about the bad thing Rudy did is quite painful because it reveals my weak parenting skills and my failure at raising him right.

I am sure I have told the tale before about how he is the only dog I have ever had and he came to me at three months old having previously been abused. He was an energetic little puppy with many fears and my dad one day was watching PBS and saw a show with Uncle Matty, the dog trainer, and suggested I call him. I did and his organization sent a trainer named Rosanne to the house. On Rosanne's first visit everything went well, she said everything a parent would want to hear about how smart Rudy was, blah, blah, blah. But on the second visit she noticed that he was very shy and worried that he might become "fear aggressive."

She gave me so many great tips for training him that have kept him under control. For example, she told me to periodically take his food away from him while he was eating which would make him less possessive of his food which can be a issue with a rescue dog who has had to worry about when they are going to get their next meal. This really works. When another dog is around and there is food or the other dog takes one of his toys, he really does not care. We also worked on making him know that he can not leave the house until I say it's okay. So I can leave the front door open and unload groceries from the car and he will not run out. That is truly wonderful.

All and all he is a good dog. The few times he has escaped from the backyard, he did not run away but instead ran to the front door. He is very loyal and protective of our house. His deficiencies are my fault I know. For example, Rosanne did not like that he jumps on people when they walk in the door. But to cure him of jumping would mean that he would not be allowed to jump on me or don dokken either. Since there is nothing more joyful than his enthusiasm when we walked through the door, I did not have the heart to break him from it.

Another problem from the beginning was his reaction to the mailman. Rosanne explained that it is very common for dogs to hate the mailman. They are generally noisy and they invade the premises when they leave the mail. Also, the mailman comes, Rudy barks ferociously, and the mailman goes. So Rudy thinks he is being successful in protecting the house. Rudy thinks that if not for him the mailman would not go away. He is just doing his job and doing it well.

If I had known how Rudy's hatred and viciousness towards the mailman would increase, I would have asked that Rosanne and I spend a good deal of time working on it. Rudy is generally a very sweet dog but I do believe that if given the opportunity he might actually attack the mailman.

When the mailman Rudy actually gets frantic. He runs to the living room window which involves him jumping on the couch and then to the mailbox and then back to the living room window all the while growling ferociously. A couple of weeks ago he was doing this routine and he actually knocked out the front window. He was not hurt as he was running around so crazily that he was already away from the window before the glass actually broke. The mailman too was fine and said "Do I owe him money or something?"

It was bad. Very bad. The only thing in his defense is that the windows are very, very old and should have been replaced years ago. I think I need to call the Dog Whisperer.

I'm A Loser and A Liar

2006-12-15T14:27:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know I promised in my last post of December 2nd that I would be posting every day. I know because I have received emails and calls - some polite, some frantic - wanting to know what happened. What happened is that I am a liar? Really, I thought if I said I would write every day than I would have to. That didn't work but, ironically, Crazy Aunt Purl last week said that she was going to take a break from blogging over the holidays and then ended up posting every day. So I guess I need to try the reverse psychology.

My big topic today is about how the oddest things get into dreams. Last night I had a dream that my family was attending a wedding of unspecified relatives in an unspecified very tiny eastern european town where everything was ridiculously inexpensive. Before the wedding, my sister got on stage to sing in a huge auditorium where there were many people in the audience. Unfortunately, I was in the very back row because they insisted she sing this song and she did not know the words. Sadly, I did but I was so far in the back that I could not help her. And, just to clarify, in real life I do not know all the words to Steve Forbert's "Romeo's Tune" and I can not believe I even remembered that Steve Forbert was the artist to find the lyrics for you all and I do not have any idea how that song got into my dream.

More oddities in the same dream - my brother in law asked one of the eastern european wedding hosts if he could wear his uniform (huh?) to the wedding. The answer was that the custom was that his mother in law had to give him permission so he had to ask my mother if it was okay. Also making an appearance was my Grandmother Eva who died twenty years ago. Her hair looked great and she was wearing some really nice earrings and I told her so.

And one more follow up note. About two or so weeks ago I watched an episode of Nip/Tuck with John and Cameron (more on that to follow in another post although since now I may not ever post again - reverse psychology - this might be an empty promise) which ended with Art Garfunkel's song "All I Know" playing over an extremely powerful montage. Since that time, I have not been able to get "All I Know" out of my head and it has been driving me crazy. Thanks to my wacky dream it is gone but sad to say replaced by "Romeo's Tune." Someone needs to get me a new song quick.

Getting Away

2006-12-02T16:09:00.000-08:00

I tried to write this post from don dokken's mother's house over the Thanksgiving weekend but it came out so boring that I put myself to sleep. We had a really nice Thanksgiving weekend including a hike in beautiful Torrey Pines pictured right there on your left. My favorite was the couple who, instead of carrying their baby on one of their backs or fronts, brought the baby in a stroller. Yeah, it's true, they went hiking with a stroller.

I promised many people that after my mad rush of work leading up to Thanksgiving I would start posting every day. That was my Thanksgiving resolution. I know it hasn't started out well but I am still going to try. Stay tuned for tomorrow (or if not tomorrow, the next day) where I will talk about how I am so mad at Rudy that I would not leave the house to get him his dog food today.

Purging

2006-11-30T07:46:00.000-08:00

My dad's assistant came over yesterday to help me get my office organized. Things have gotten hectic and disarrayed between starting my business, bringing over all my dad's files and temporarily taking over the finances on my real estate business. My idea was to take the closet in the office which was a jumbled mish-mash of all things and turn it into a supply room, freeing up space on my floor and in my file cabinet where I was storing some supplies but really needed the space for files.

It turned out amazing. Everything looks so clean and crisp. She is going to bring the storage paraphanalia today but I now have a clear desk (inside and out. Really. There are very few things in my drawers), a cleaned out closet, and about ten bags waiting to be picked up by the thrift store. How did we do it?

- She made me throw away my grandfather's wallet. My grandfather died in 1989. The wallet was filled with his medical cards including one about a pacemaker which I did not even remember he had. Yeah, that's the kind of stuff I've been holding onto including a couple of files for when I settled his estate. Those are in line at my shredder now.

- She made me throw away the unopened erasers from Bouchart Gardens and similarly unusable souvenirs from when my mom and I went to Canada in the early 90's. She did let me keep our tour group photo including one of us white water rafting where everyone but me is waving because I was certain that if I so much as breathed the whole raft would tip over. I had a whole bag of stuff from that trip that was completely unnecessary. Gone.

- She told me that I have enough notepads to last the rest of my life and beyond. She told me that I am no longer allowed to keep those free pads that the real estate agents leave. But, huh? They're free! She said that having a complete stranger's face taking up most of a notepad is not a good use of space. I pointed out that I actually knew one of the real estate agents on one of the pads. I did not win the argument.

- She says it is okay to have a collection as long as you have a place to display the collection all in one place. I do not consider myself to be a collector of snow globes but I have in the past picked them up here and there if they are inexpensive and somehow unique. I then strewned them all over my bookshelves. They are now tastefully arranged together at the top of one of the shelves.

- We established a "memorabilia" bin to go in the garage. So I found a terribly bad poem in a camp newsletter when I was probably nine years old. We took the front page of the newsletter and the page with my poem, stapled them together and put them in the memorabilia bin. We also put in all the plaques and certificates I have gotten for volunteering that I would love to throw away but can't. My grandmother's high school diploma and stuff like that will go in there as well.

- Books should be displayed in the bookshelf. I have some unique and collectible books that I have been keeping in my desk drawer. Silly.

- Disney is rich because their merchandise is everywhere. There is no reason for me to keep every piece of paper that says Disney on it because someday my niece and nephew might want it. That includes the huge Beauty and the Beast poster that has been sitting in the closet. When my niece and nephew get to an age when they want posters, it will not be for Beauty and the Beast. Beauty and the Beast is old school.

Her basic philosophy is that there should be a place for everything. After she left I had to work but I would take a break every once in awhile to reward myself by looking in a closet and finding stuff to give away. Purging is so much fun. This has been the start of something really great and we are going to continue next week with all the rest of my closets.

Thanks For Rudy Day

2006-11-23T07:59:00.000-08:00

Frequent readers of the blog will remember that Rudy arrived at my house the day before Thanksgiving which I have declared Thanks for Rudy Day. I would link to last year's post which gives the whole story but blogger is messing with me in their attempt to get me to upgrade to something so anyway if you are highly motivated you can check it out in last year's November archives.

My eyes were blurry and twitching from working on the computer non-stop from 9:00 to 5:00. And I mean non-stop. I did not break for lunch. I did not go to the bathroom. And I really mean twitching. It just stopped a few minutes ago. And you see how the picture of Rudy above is blurry? That's because that's how everything looks right now through my eyes. Really, I wouldn't have minded cancelling the Thanks for Rudy Day traditional dinner which this year was salmon, stuffing, and yams. And wine. But I'm glad I didn't because I cooked the salmon myself and since neither don dokken or I have gotten sick yet, I might have done an okay job. Baby steps.

The picture of Rudy shows him playing with his Thanks for Rudy Day present. It is a blue ball that squeaks. It is very annoying but he, of course, is worth every and all annoyance. Thank you, Rudy, for another year of unconditional love, hypervigilance, and sweetness.

Best Movie Ever

2006-11-22T06:57:00.000-08:00

Before I became lowbrow and decided my favorite movie ever was Office Space, my favorite movie ever was 3 Women. 3 Women came out in 1977 and was never released on video although don dokken scored me a bootleg copy a few years ago as well as a very large poster for the French version of the movie which hangs in my living room and is the first thing people see when they walk in the door. You can now get the film on DVD but that is a recent development. Before then, you had to catch it at film retrospectives.

It stars Shelley Duvall, Sissy Spacek and Janice Rule. Shelley Duvall plays Millie. Millie thinks she's hot and is oblivious to the eye rolling that goes on whenever she walks by. She drives a Pinto and somehow always manages to take off with her skirt caught in the door (can you see why this is my favorite movie ever? I can relate.) She takes Sissy Spacek's character, shy, quiet, Pinky, under her wings at the nursing home where they both work and they end up being roommates. Pinky idolizes Millie. Millie teaches Pinky the finer points of hostessing a party. You know, stuff like how to squirt the cheez whiz on crackers.

But then things take a turn when Pinky has an accident and wakes up thinking she is Millie. Only she out Millies, Millie and she really is hot. People do not roll their eyes when she walks by. And Millie takes on the role of submissive caregiver to Pinky. There is also a side story with pregnant Janice Rule, a local artist, whose husband is the only man character of any substance and who is gone at the end of the film (the husband, not the pregnant Janice Rule.)

This film is quirky and strange and I have probably done a terrible job of describing it but all I am really trying to say is RIP Robert Altman.

Allergies

2006-11-21T07:25:00.000-08:00

I have talked before about how three of the five of us in our Union Station clique have lost a parent this year. Last week, Joan lost her father, her mother having passed away earlier this year. She asked us if we would like to join her at Traxx Bar this past Friday night where the Art Deco society was having an event and where she wanted to have a martini in memory of her parents.

Cameron, Joan, and I ended up sitting on the patio at Traxx Restaurant. I had crab cakes, salad, and a gin gimlet. They had the same only martinis instead of a gimlet. Joan showed us pictures of her parents and of her very pregnant granddaughter. Handsome family!

When I got home, my right eyelid was swollen. I do not know if I got bitten by a bug or if I was allergic to something I ate. The crab cakes maybe? The gimlet? My new moisturizer? My eye lid remained swollen the next day so I walked to the Rite Aid and bought some Claritin. I think it did the trick. Or else the bug bite healed.

Several years ago, I was having similar problems with my eyelids only they did not go away. My primary care physician referred me to an allergist and I had an appointment on Monday, the 5th of July. I arrived at the appointment to find the office staff and a few other patients standing in front of the door of the locked office building. For some reason, the office building management had decided that the 5th of July was a holiday without notifying their tenants and no one had a key to the front door including the security guard who also thought she was working that day. Calls were made, property management people were dispatched.

In the meantime, the allergy doctor arrived in his shiny, fancy Mercedes. Not knowing when access to the building would be gained, he brought me and another patient into his car and performed the allergy scratch tests which were handily stored in his trunk. While waiting for the results of the test, we sat and watched the television that was of course one of the features of his shiny, fancy Mercedes.

It turned out I was allergic to my dog. Among other things. Which is okay because my dog itches all the time so he is probably allergic to me. We finally got into the building and the doctor gave me prescriptions and made appointments for me to come back. On my way out, I ran into the sister of a friend who said that this doctor had totally cleared up her migranes and that it turned out she was allergic to almost everything and she came by for weekly shots of the things she was allergic to so she could build up immunities. Shots? I was so out of there.

I never filled the prescriptions and never went back. I guess I built up immunities to the dog just by living with him all these years.

Eva & Isaac's First Halloween

2006-11-11T07:58:00.000-08:00

A couple of years ago, before kruthless was even pregnant, I was in a Disney store and saw a Disney princess Halloween costume sized 18 months marked down to almost $0 and, being the highly generous person - okay, the highly bargain motivated person - I am I bought it for my yet to even be conceived niece. Then I put it in a closet and totally forgot about it.

Several weeks before Halloween I received an email from kruthless asking me to save her from herself. She had been online at Target and some other party store and had found for $40 or something a hot dog costume and was it a bee costume? I don't remember because actually they looked like $40 each of torture equipment to me.

I then discussed with my mother who said "Oh, please, all we have to do is get two pieces of paper and make them into encyclopedias." And, yes, I was the kid whose costume was usually two holes cut in a sheet so I could be a ghost.

At the final hour I remembered the princess costume. For some reason, when I bought it, I had thought that if the timing didn't work out well, my not even conceived niece could use it for playing dress up. However, in reality, I was now worried that my seven month old niece would be too big for the costume. She is something of a bruiser. But the costume fit and here are Eva and Isaac on their first Halloween:

And The Madness Continues

2006-11-09T16:07:00.000-08:00

So they still haven't closed my dad's home equity line of credit but I bet if he owed money on it the Bank of America would be all over the estate to pony up. I told them that my ten calls to them and social security notifying them and my handing them a copy of the death certificate absolves me of all future liability regarding the line of credit.

But Bank of America isn't alone anymore in their crazy making of me. Today I received a letter from Kaiser saying that medicare had notified them that my father has died and that just does not match their records. But, wait a minute...he died under their hospice care. One of their doctor's signed the death certificate. His pulmonologist came to the funeral and his oncologist sent a card. Plus, we got an invitation from Kaiser inviting us to a holiday memorial party where we could send pictures of our dad that would be in a memorial video and we could watch the video and bond with other family members of Kaiser patients who had lost loved ones and then they would give us dinner (limited to two people - FYI).

This dying thing is really complicated.

You Can Check Out But You Can Never Leave

2006-11-09T08:14:00.000-08:00

I am so so close to tying up all my dad's business. One of the last remaining pieces is to close his home equity line of credit. Even though Bank of America was notified by both us and social security immediately following his death, I can not get the line closed. I have been on the phone with them for almost an hour this morning. We have provided them with a death certificate. I have been transfered to five different people. The guy I'm talking to now told me I am talking to the right person but for some reason the system isn't giving him access to what he needs. I am on the verge of just using that home equity line of credit and moving somewhere far, far away. Stuff like this is why there aren't a lot of updates to the blog lately.

Dia de la Muerte (Day of the Dead)

2006-11-01T08:03:00.000-08:00

Dia de la muerte is officially today but I celebrated this past weekend for the first time ever. There is an old cemetery right behind Paramount Studios where a lot of famous old-time Hollywood people like Rudolph Valentino are buried. It is now called "Hollywood Forever" and the guy that owns (and I believe it's a chain) is sprucing up the death business and offering things like videotaped memorials that last forever, those sorts of things.

For the last seven years, Hollywood Forever has sponsored a Dia de La Muerte celebration at night at the cemetery. This year I went with my union station friends. Three of the five of us had lost a parent this year.

It is difficult to describe the feeling as we walked at night into the side gate of the cemetery with its stunning and very tall palm trees. There were no additional lights leading up to the main festivities. It was spooky and beautiful at the same time. There were tons of people milling around. People of all ages from babies in a stroller to elderly people.

The most interesting part of the celebration were the altars that had been erected on the grave sites. Some of them were very elaborate but I preferred the ones that very simply told the story of the person that was gone.

My Recliner Buddy

2006-10-28T07:54:00.000-07:00

My dog is tall and skinny and weighs 48 pounds. About a month or two ago he started every once in a while coming into my office while I was working, putting his two front paws up on my lap and just staying there. I could not figure out what he wanted.

We have done a bit of redecorating in the last week and a half. My front bedroom was a catchall entertainment room, exercise room, guestroom. In preparation for the arrival of my dad's recliner, I decided it was time to let the treadmill go. I walk outside almost every day now and the treadmill takes up quite a bit of room. I got a guy named Memo to haul the treadmill away. I met Memo while I was at my dad's house. He was working for the charity that took the last of my dad's stuff away. Apparently there are some things that even a charity won't take like a falling apart, big plywood desk and like, say, a huge treadmill. Memo heard my dad's assistant and I talking about how you can find people in the Penny Saver to haul stuff away and Memo spoke up and told us that he happened to have that exact kind of business on the side. Though my dad's assistant thought that maybe Memo was a little exploitative and unethical, the way I see it is that Memo saw a need and filled it. I applaud his entreprenuerialism.

The only thing of my dad's I knew I really wanted was his recliner and don dokken brought the recliner to me last Monday. My dad was so active all his life, even when he was sick, so it is funny that it is the recliner that makes me feel the closest to him. When I think about my dad now I keep replaying the last few weeks of his life and the recliner is where I saw him the most. A few weeks before he died he was sitting in the recliner giving himself a breathing treatment. He did not want to sit alone so I laid on his bed and every once in awhile he would remove the breathing tube, say "I love you" in his raspy voice, and then put the breathing tube back in his mouth. He died in his recliner and in the days following his death I could sit in that chair and feel his presence.

Last night I was sitting in the recliner having a glass of wine and reading my Money magazine. The dog approached tentatively. He has been a little afraid of the recliner because it moves and makes a scary noise when you lift the leg rest. He put his front paws up on the chair and then jumped up and awkwardly positioned himself on my lap. I think sitting on my lap is what he has been wanting to do all along. We watched Charlie Brown on TV. It was precious time spent enjoying the two things that don dokken delivered to me - my dog and my recliner.

No Sleep + No Water + Too Much Coffee = Very Shaky Hands

2006-10-10T18:17:00.000-07:00

I woke up around 3 am this morning because a water main broke in my neighborhood. I did not know at the time that was the reason why. In fact, I looked out my front window and saw water in the street and thought it had been raining. In the morning, I saw my car was dry and my backyard was dry and thought it was strange that the rain had stopped at the street in front of the house. And then I went to brush my teeth and the water would not turn on.

311 must know my voice by now. They verified that, yes, a water main had broken around 3 am and, being the emergency situation that it was, they could not notify the people affected by the water shut-off. I work from home and many days I really do not need to get out of my pajamas. But, of course, today I had a breakfast meeting at 8am, close to downtown.

And here's where I must give a shout-out to In-Style magazine. In the most recent issue, a make-up, face guy noted a beauty trick whereby when you are too tired at night to wash your face, there are great products on the market which are basically moist towelettes which do not have alcohol and do not have oil making ingredients either. He highly recommended them, named the best brand, said they were just as good as washing with a cleanser. Since I am too tired at night to wash my face about 99% of the time, that sounded like a good idea to me and I actually bought some to try out just a few days ago. Those and perfume and some bottled water to brush my teeth came in very handy this morning. We won't talk about my hair.

But I was tired and since there was no water to heat for my tea and I had been awake since the wee hours of the morning, I needed caffeine and at the breakfast meeting I drank cups and cups and more cups of coffee. That was nine hours ago and my hands are still shaking and I have not eaten since breakfast because I am so caffeine sensitive that I have no appetite. I have decided that the only thing that will calm me down and make things right is a nice glass of red wine and a warm bath. The water, being off most of the day, is finally back on.

Volunteer Diary

2006-10-07T07:24:00.000-07:00

I was cleaning out one of my drawers the other day and found a piece of paper dated 11/11/92 on which I had written notes about my first day of volunteering at an infant/toddler shelter. The shelter was for children under the age of five who had been taken from their parents due to abuse or neglect and temporarily placed in the shelter until the family could, hopefully, be reunified. My intention I know was to keep a diary about the experience and I only wrote this one page but it really doesn't matter because I remember the days I spent there better than I remember what I had for breakfast an hour ago. It was one of the better experiences of my life as I met the most inspiring children and (very young) staff members who I still think about all the time. From the "diary":

There were six children - 3 girls, 3 boys - ages ten months to five years. The girls: Jennifer, Deneva, and the baby (can't remember her name - starts with a T.) The baby's mother, Penny, was there - the social worker says she comes every day. Penny told me five times she liked my silver and onyx bracelet. She started talking about two year old Matthew and how she didn't like him and he was hyperactive and they should put him on ritalin. All this, right in front of him. The baby seemed to be doing really well. She's walking, smiling, trying to talk.

Jennifer's a big, pudgy, freckly redhead who clings to you immediately. "I love you" she said to me almost right away. "Let's play house," she kept saying. We drove through Carl's Junior (the six kids, two staff members, and me) and then brought the food back to the house. One little boy, Blair, wanted to know why I was going with them. He did not like me! But later he gave me a french fry which I dipped into Deneva's ketchup. Deneva wanted to save french fries for her mother. She put a bag aside for her.

Jennifer said her father was in heaven and Blair asked one of the staff people why God took Jennifer's father away. She said God had a plan for everyone and it was Jennifer's dad's time. She said that God wasn't doing it to be mean and that Jennifer's dad was having fun in heaven.

I got the name wrong in that entry. Her name was Stephanie and her father was killed while holding up a Subway sandwich store. I put Stephanie to bed one night and said the words my mother always said to me "Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite." Instead of being comforted, Stephanie became hysterical. "Bed bugs? There are bed bugs?" The staff had to change her clothes and sheets to get her to settle down.

We took the kids to Disneyland a couple of times. One time, Matthew was being potty trained and exhuberantly ran into the men's bathroom before any of the all female staff members could stop him. We waited anxiously at the entrance until, finally, Matthew came running out triumphantly and butt naked screaming in his baby voice, "I did it! I did it!"

On that same trip, Blair asked the whole way there over and over again "Are we going to Disneyland? Are we going to Disneyland?" And the whole way there we assured him that, yes, we are going to Disneyland. Finally, we were in line at the parking lot, right at the gates that said "Welcome to Disneyland - the happiest place in the world" and he asked again. Using the sarcastic humor that my parents used to use on me, I said "No, Blair, we are not. We are not going to Disneyland." Everyone else in the car laughed but Blair burst out in tears. We explained to him that I was joking. Between sobs he said, "But jokes are supposed to be funny." You were right, Blair, and I still remind myself of that all the time.

The idea of the Infant/Toddler shelter was for it to be a temporary place for the children while the parents worked on improving themselves and their lives and got to a point where it was safe for them to have their children back. Unfortunately, while the children healed really quickly, the parents took a long time recovering and it would be years or never before they were ready not the weeks or months as hoped. Three of us volunteers were asked to speak to the Board of Directors of the agency running the shelter to plead with them to keep it open. We tried our best but in 1994 they voted to close the shelter down anyway.

Bank of America Abuses Elders

2006-10-04T07:34:00.000-07:00

This past summer I thought it might be prudent to have myself added to my dad's bank account. Not wanting to single anyone out I also decided it might be prudent to have myself added to my mom's bank account. We all three use Bank of America.

The transaction with my mom went very smoothly. I met her at the bank near both of our houses, they helped us right away, the woman who assisted us was quick. Easy. I then walked back home, stopping at the Borders bookstore, where I bonded with some strangers about books and how lucky we were to be shopping for books in the middle of the day in the middle of the week on a beautiful summer day. Tra la la.

The transaction with my dad actually occurred before the transaction with my mom and did not go as well. In just itsy bitsy fairness to B of A, we went on a Saturday and it was a little crowded. We had to wait for a long time to be helped. We finally were helped by Mary Ann who acted like what we were asking was as complicated as a real estate transaction in California, took half the day to complete it, and then tried to convince my dad to transfer some of his money into a CD.

Let us stop here and make sure everyone has the proper picture in their heads. An elderly man in a scooter (i.e. unable to walk) and on oxygen (i.e. unable to breathe) with a fading voice because there is a tumor pressing against whatever it is that lets people talk (vocal cords?) is adding his daughter to his checking account. Got it?

Apparently, my dad went back and got the CD which was no problem. No problem really except that devil woman Mary Ann took the opportunity to talk him into increasing his home equity line of credit. What must she have said to convince a dying man that he needed to add $50,000 to a line of credit that he had just paid off less than a year ago? Also, apparently, he tried to cancel follow up appointments with Mary Ann regarding the additional home equity line of credit and she would cajole him to reschedule.

Thank goodness he was too tired to actually complete the paperwork. And he had a vigilant assistant who notified his financial advisor and called Mary Ann to tell her to back off. Mary Ann hung up on her.

My dad kept saying he wanted me more involved in his finances. I took that to mean he wanted me to know how much money he had and where it was. I would periodically go through his drawers and files. But what I didn't realize, because my dad was a smart and sharp man, was that when someone is ill or old there are opportunities for their exploitation and people who will exploit and this will happen even to people who are of sound mind. When I saw the bill for my dad's insurance on his condominium, I actually started shaking. He was paying more for his condo insurance than I pay for my home insurance and four times as much as my mom pays for her condo insurance. Someone had convinced him he needed a premium policy and coverage far exceeding the value of his assets. That was two days before he died.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

2006-10-03T16:30:00.000-07:00

This morning I was talking on the telephone when I saw a splash of color go by my living room window. There was no noise and I somehow knew that it was something out of the ordinary, definitely not a car or a person. I looked out the window and saw this:

Yes, that's right, the tree across the street fell down into the middle of the street for no apparent reason. I called the city's 311 hotline number and they said they would send someone to get the tree out of the middle of the street. As you can see, the tree was blocking traffic. As you can also see, someone or someone's car could have gotten smushed.

The City really rocks because they were here in just a bit over an hour and the tree was removed within a half an hour. I snapped the picture with my cellphone camera just as they arrived because I thought the people across the street might want some sort of record of what had happened.

An hour later a very angry, aggressive sounding man called. It was the guy across the street. You see that white thing behind my yucca/palm tree? That belongs to the nanny across the street. The nanny across the street told her employer that the City had asked her to move her car so that they could take down the tree. The people across the street then called the City who told them that I had called them to remove the tree. The guy across the street wanted to know if I was the person responsible for having their tree removed and ruining their fence. It appears that no one mentioned to him that the tree was already lying in the middle of the street when I called.

I am so glad I took that picture which clearly shows that, yes, the tree was already lying in the middle of the street before the nanny was asked to move her car. I told him he should be thanking me not yelling at me. I told him that either he didn't understand the nanny or the nanny didn't understand the City or maybe their nanny is just a liar. Plus, let's think this through. Would the City really rush out and cut down a tree because someone across the street told them to?

He later sent me an apologetic email and his wife came knocking on the door to apologize in person. She said "Not that we wouldn't have believed you but it's great that you took that picture."

It has not been a good day.

Happy New Year

2006-09-25T12:24:00.000-07:00

One of the most unexpected phone calls after my dad's death was from the Rabbi at my childhood temple. He told me that my dad was one of the first people he met when he came to work at the temple and that my dad was "quite vocal." I told him that I had many great memories of growing up at his temple and that I would be there for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services this year. He asked for permission to put my dad's name on the list of people they read during the mourner's prayer and, after I said yes, told me he already had anyway.

Before the call, don dokken and I had already made the decision to go there for services. I am not sure why except that my mother still goes there, there are still people from my childhood who go there, and the services are held at a hotel within walking distances of where don dokken is now living, his aunt's house.

A year ago I left work early so I could have dinner with my dad before the holiday began. We had a great dinner. And it was very surreal one year later to walk up the stairs of don dokken's aunt's house to pick him up to go to services at a place that I had gone to every single year of all my growing up years but had not gone to for a really long time.

The services and the choice to go back to where I grew up were all very comforting. And it felt like the first pages of the prayerbook were written for us:

As the new year begins, our spirits rise in grateful song.

But there were dreams that came to naught..and times when we refused to dream. These, with much regret, we now remember, as the new year begins.

As the new year begins, contrition fills our thoughts.

Some of our days were dark with grief. Many a tear furrowed our cheeks: alas for the tender ties that were broken! We look back with sorrow, as the new year beings.

As the new year begins, tears well up within us.

Yet we look ahead with hope, giving thanks for the daily miracle of renewal, for the promise of good to come. May this Rosh Hashanah, birthday of the world, be our day of rebirth into life and peace, serenity and safety, as the new year begins.

As the new year begins, so is hope reborn within us!

(I stole the prayerbook until Yom Kippur so I could copy those words and have them forever.)

Sprinkler Head

2006-09-21T15:05:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my gardener told me that a sprinkler head on my front lawn was broken. He said he would fix it in a few days. The next week he told me that he did not have a replacement for the sprinkler head but did I maybe have one in my garage? I suggested he just steal one from my neighbor, Jeff, who probably does have replacement sprinkler heads in his garage or, if not, knows how to get or install one himself. Apparently the gardener thought I was joking because this morning I went for a walk and a guy who lives at the other end of my block stopped me to ask if I knew that I had a broken sprinkler. head. There are no secrets in this neighborhood.

Evidence That The Real Estate Market Is Slowing Down

2006-09-20T14:45:00.000-07:00

I got home last Sunday and the people across the street were standing in my driveway. Their house has been on the market for three weeks and they were having their second open house. They thought the open house was over and had come back but there was one last family still inside so they decided to unobtrusively just hang out in my driveway. I understand because my driveway is loads more fun than, say, going to the local Starbucks.

They were asking $759,000 for their house and nothing was happening even though a not as nice house just three doors down had sold for just about that much about a month ago. They announced to me that they were about to announce to their real estate agent that they wanted to drop the price to $695,000. Pretty dramatic, huh?

I told them that a friend of my sister's was very interested in the neighborhood but their price had been a little too high for her. The wife especially got extremely hyper over this information and they both insisted that I come over with them and meet their real estate agent, hear them tell him about the price reduction, and then give them the news about my sister's friend. And of course I went because why would I want to miss out on the opportunity to watch the reaction of a total stranger when told that his commission is about to drop by at least $2,000?

My neighbor is a marketing executive for a record company and the dramatic price lowering was his idea of a brilliant marketing strategy. I believe it might have worked. Early this morning their real estate agent pulled up in his bright black Mercedes. Later I saw my neighbor who said that they have one offer in hand and five offers pending. The bright black Mercedes has been back at least three times since then.

My New Weight Loss Program

2006-09-17T19:36:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to Gelsons Market to buy dinner for me and don dokken. I bought sushi for don dokken and a scoop of tuna with herbs and crackers for me. As I was walking out, a homeless man said to me "Hello, young lady." I have never seen a homeless person at my Gelsons before. "Do you have any food for me?" he asked. My brain had already assumed he was going to be asking for money and so I started to shake my head no and then my brain caught up with his words and I reached into my bag and gave him my tuna.

When I got home I told don dokken that I had given my dinner away to a homeless man. I then burst into tears and told him that homeless people remind me of my father (not that he was one - he just did a lot of stuff for them.) Well, anyway, I didn't have dinner last night.

Speech For Dad

2006-09-11T07:35:00.000-07:00

If you live on the Westside, you might have seen a man on oxygen driving a scooter down Pico Boulevard. He would have been dressed in a Tommy Bahama Hawaiian shirt with brightly colored Crocs on his feet. He might have been driving the scooter a bit erratically or, even, some might say, recklessly. Well, that was our dad. Unable to walk due to, as he liked to point out “five different chronic conditions”, he was not going to stop doing the things he loved which meant getting outside, eating, talking to people and shopping (and returning). Besides, he told Eric, “the scooter was a chick magnet.”

He was such a ubiquitous presence on Pico Boulevard that, in fact, my sister having just left the vet very upset after putting her cat to sleep, looked down the street and there was Dad tooling around on his scooter. He was always easy to find. Many times, on my way to Fairfax High School I would see his bright blue Dodge Dart parked in front of the Dupars at Farmer’s Market and I would stop in and have breakfast with him.

And speaking of that bright blue Dodge Dart, he could not remember why, but one day he decided to paint our walkway on Del Valle Drive, which was a lovely red, to match the color of the car. I can still recall the delight of having people drive by the house and yell comments about the ugliness of our walkway.

But that was our dad. The brighter the better. The bigger the better. What was the point in buying two shirts, when you could buy five? What was the point of buying a small coffee when jumbo size exists? What was the point in resting when there were so many people to see and so many things to do?

He was very ill and yet he never gave up and he never complained. With every new challenge, he made adjustments. He was someone who lived his entire life to the fullest regardless of the obstacles.

Last week, he asked Karen if he had been a good father. Of course he was. He was encouraging and supportive to both of us. When we were children, he creatively looked for fun new places to try every weekend and, if that didn’t work, there was always bowling or folk dancing. He was the first feminist in our family. He bought our mother a premier subscription to “Ms” magazine and made sure we understood that there was no barrier to what we as women could do. Today we have asked our cousin, Claire Beezy, to be one of our pallbearers. We know he would have liked that because it bucks tradition and because he taught us that women can be as strong or stronger than men.

He loved Las Vegas and traveling in general. He loved his group of friends who called themselves “The Firm.” He loved “The Godfather” movies. He loved Israel. He loved music. Klezmer bands do not typically perform at funerals but he requested the unorthodox and we have honored his request. He loved his cat, Cindi, the one and only pet in his life, a Father’s Day gift from Karen and me many years ago. He loved Dr. Iancu, his pulmonologist at Kaiser. He loved Candy, his Assistant and Life Manager, who made his last few months immeasurably better and gave our family incredible peace of mind. He loved our mother, who was a good friend to him until the end. He loved his family. He loved teasing his sister, Annette. And he loved all of you; well, most of you.

He knew he was dying and he had a long time to prepare. He had no regrets – he said his cup runneth over.

Somewhat Of An Update

2006-09-06T14:27:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know, I have been gone for a long time. It has been a little hectic but just to fill you in on some of the highlights:

- When I last posted, I was in Des Moines. The trip to Des Moines ended quite bizarrely with 98 year old Aunt Mary accusing me of closing the door to her room, opening her drawer and stealing....some key chains? The kind of key chains they give out free from Bud's Hardware Store and Raymond's Cadillac Dealership. Because you all know that I am just the kind of person to travel across country (via my favorite mode of transportation, the airplane) spending five hundred plus dollars in order to steal maybe ten cents worth of key chains. What can I say? Old people get weirdly paranoid.

- Upon returning from Des Moines, don dokken and I went to see his mother in San Diego. We met his mother's caregiver, the very competent Sharon. I know she is competent because I overheard her saying very seriously to don dokken, "We are working on the banana issue." You know. The banana issue. Whereby it is hard to balance the ripeness of the banana with the eating habits of don dokken's mother. "We have switched her to organic," Sharon said, in the same tone that someone might use when speaking about trying out a new medication because the old one just wasn't working. I think they eventually agreed that she would buy four (organic) bananas at a time - two ripe, two green. Banana issue solved.

- don dokken's aunt passed away and I can say that watching every episode of every season of "Six Feet Under" is no preparation for the moment when the mortuary arrives. For one thing, one of the mortuary people was a girl.

- Things continued to break in the month of August as predicted by Crazy Aunt Purl. On September 3rd, I was driving home from the car wash and I thought, "August is over. Things aren't going to break anymore!" I got home and was sitting at my desk and there was a big crash. The glass light over my head had fallen on the floor and crashed into big and little pieces of glass all around me. The dog had been in the room too but I think he sensed it coming and got out of its path. He and I could have been blinded. Well, anyway, there is now no light fixture over the bulb in my office.

- Shaken up from the broken light fixture incident, I drove to Long Beach where Joan, one of the Union Station J's, was giving a talk for the Art Deco Society aboard the Queen Mary. Cameron and I were standing in the long line waiting to purchase our tickets when a little girl came running up to us. "We have a coupon for a complimentary ticket that we're not going to use," she said and handed the coupon to me. So Cameron and I got in for the price of one. "Out of all the people in line she picked us," I said to him. Cameron is an Aquarius so he was under the breaking curse as well. We took this as a sign that August was really, really over and our luck is now going to change.

- I have a new client. I actually have several new clients. But I am back in my recruiting mode (if anyone knows someone looking for a bookkeeper job in West Hollywood, please let me know.) I know I have said this before but if I were a full time recruiter I would have a book full of crazy examples of responses to job ads. Here are two:

"I have included a functional resume that details my experience with HIV/AIDS as well as Customer Service and Administrative positions."

"Please read the skills very carefully,and get back to me ASAP,
All Salary histories, and requirements should come by interview or phone call. All references by request only.
Also be sure to read the cover letter that comes with resumes.

May the Lord be with you always ,"

Suri Double

2006-08-18T20:08:00.000-07:00

My niece is going to be a star. Her former nanny submitted her picture for an HBO show which sounds like some sort of comedy. They needed a baby to play the child of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. There is no audition. They saw her picture and they picked her. She is being paid $120 for four hours. Of course, Hollywood is fickle and who knows if it will actually happen but how promising is this? I wish I could be there to take her to the filming!

It's All Happening In Des Moines

2006-08-18T07:59:00.000-07:00

What a difference a year makes! I am writing to you not from Java Joe's (where I did have my coffee this morning) but from the brand new big and beautiful Downtown Des Moines Public library. You all would not believe how many computers there are here. And how beautiful the view is from the computers. And my mom right now is at a computer viewing a presentation from the Shoah foundation.

There is also a new area called the East Village which is the "hip" new shopping/living area near the Capitol building. Downtown Des Moines is the place to be.

And LAX is the place not to be. Our plane left yesterday morning at 7:12 am. We left my house at 4:45. We arrived at the airport a little after 5:00 am and we got to the gate as they were already boarding. It took an hour and 50 minutes to check in our bags and go through security. At 5 in the morning. The guy in front of us missed his plane. They only had one guy for curbside check-in and the line was way back to the Valley.

The flights were uneventful. At least I guess they were, I slept through both of them.

Aunt Mary's 98th (97th?) birthday is today. She is much the same as last year although a little harder of hearing. We are on our way now to the Dahl's market to get her some Russell Stover candy and get me a powerball ticket. I have a feeling I'm going to finally win this year and, when I do, the Des Moines East Village better watch out...

My New Addition

2006-08-13T07:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, we can call it my midlife crisis car. I have been thinking and doing internet investigations and trying to decide whether it was time to give up on my 2000 Passat. I really wanted it to last ten years but it was causing me much frustration as it kept doing really weird things. For example, a month or so ago I could not get the key out of the car because for whatever reason the car did not think it was in park. Until I could get it to the dealer, I had to just leave the key in the car. The dealer was able to fix it pretty quickly but what a weird quirk.

The last straw was on Friday. As my dad, mom, and I were stuck in traffic for an hour and forty five minutes on our way to Long Beach in the heat, the air conditioner just stopped working. And then on the way home from Long Beach, I kept smelling a burning smell. The car no longer felt safe to me. "I have a feeling I'm never going to see this car again," my dad said.

I found my dream 325i on Carmax.com. It was out at the airport and had only 11,000 miles. It was silver, the same color as my Passat. I made an appointment to go see it yesterday morning but on my morning walk I ran into the people across the street who seem to have a new car every six months or so and at one time had a BMW. The wife immediately told me to go buy one. The husband was a little more reserved. "I'm leaning towards Japanese over German these days." However, by the end of the conversation he remembered the great BMW maintenance policy (everything free for 50,000 miles) and suggested I go to the dealer a few blocks away rather than drive all the way to the airport. He said to show them the car I had printed out from carmax.com and ask them if they could match the deal. (Carmax is no haggle which was what appealed to me and the price was well below blue book.)

I continued on my walk. As I stopped at the ATM, a woman in a BMW 325i pulled into a parking space. She had recently bought it from the dealer near my house. It was a 2001 and looked brand new. She loved the car. She told me to "go for it."

When I got home, my neighbor Jeff was out front. His wife drove a BMW 325i which they leased and turned back when their baby was born. He said they loved that car and loved the service at the dealer. Thus concluded my market research.

I took my neighbor's advice and showed the dealer my flyer from Carmax. They had a similiar car with 17,000 miles which they gave me for less money than the carmax car. Plus, for their certified pre-owned cars, BMW extends the 50,000 mile warranty and maintenance to 100,000 miles. Plus, the salesperson mistakenly told me there was an alarm in the car so they had to install an alarm for free ($750 value.)

The people across the street came by to see the car. The wife gave me a big hug. They thought I had changed my mind and bought a brand new car. It is a beautiful metallic blue green. "I'm glad you got a different color," the wife said. "It's a good thing you went to the dealer because Carmax wouldn't have given you that 100,000 mile warranty," the husband said.

It is very nerve wracking to drive a brand new car but the radio buttons are now set. I drove it last night so I now know how to turn on the headlights, and I have a few more months to learn how to set the clock when daylight savings starts.

So Mature

2006-08-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine went to a dermatologist who found basal cell carcinoma on her chest which was promptly removed. She then went to lunch with another friend of mine who had a similar growth on the same spot. This other friend went to the same dermatologist, was found to have basal cell carcinoma, and had it removed.

I decided to see the same dermatologist. Not because I had a growth on my chest but because I wanted a full body check for any and all skin abnormalities. I did go, however, knowing that things happen in threes so there was some trepidation.

I should be jubiliant right now because the doctor found nothing. Nothing to even keep checking on. Nothing. But my relief is a bit marred because at the end of the appointment she handed me a pamphlet that said "mature skin." And on the cover of the pamphlet is a picture of a man and a woman who, in my opinion, look at least fifty years older than me. Okay, maybe thirty.

The good news is that, according to the pamphlet, bathing too often would be bad for my old and decrepit skin so I will be saving lots of time in the mornings now. The pamphlet also says that itching could be a problem. Then it goes on to say:

Elderly skin appears to be more sensitive to fabric preservatives, wool, plastics, detergents, bleaches, soaps and other irritants. Certain days (sic)may also make the skin itchy.

This leaves me to ponder. Which days will it be? Will Saturdays cause me to itch? Or maybe it will be Wednesdays? The pamplet says "identifying and limiting exposure to the cause is important." I suppose I could sleep through whichever days turn out to make me itch but it better not be Tuesdays or I'll miss the next season of "House."

August Hates Me

2006-08-04T17:52:00.000-07:00

If I haven't directed you to Crazy Aunt Purl's horoscopes, I have been doing you a disservice because she is amazingly accurate. Here is what she said about me for this month:

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20 - Feb. 18)
Home repair, car repair, footwear malfunctioning, even the sunglasses/handbag/new thing you just bought is askew. Fun, eh? How's it going over there, Aquarius? What's broken today in your world? I know it feels like it won't stop (oh, and by the way, for those of you who are not experiencing any technical difficulties at all, ah. yes. Well, sorry to break the news to you. August is "Stuff Breaks" month.) but it will stop, it will! even though it feels like the world has conspired against you. It hasn't ... it's just something in Uranus. Besides, whatever breaks can be replaced, and maybe you'll find something better anyway ... next month, of course, when it's likely to last longer than a day and a half.

So we all know that a pipe burst in my backyard and some of the landscaping was ruined and still has not been fixed because my gardener lies. Today the car started making a weird and very loud humming noise. Then there's my teeth which of course were already in bad shape but I went today to work with the dentist's office on my treatment plan. Good times ahead.

The other thing that seems to be broken is my credit card bill. I do not think I have ever had an erroneous or unfair credit card charge in my life. I looked online a couple of days ago and found three of them. Three.

The first was easily resolved and turned out not to be a mistake at all. One of the many wineries at which I purchased wine had forgotten to charge me for some of the bottles and had issued a correction. They sent a note about it in their delivery. So okay.

The second one was a charge from a place called "AF Online Inc" which was a company having to do something with computer networks. The charge was for over $300 and was made while I was on vacation in Sonoma. I put the charge in dispute and today received a letter that it had been resolved. My cognitive ability must also be broken because the way I initially interpreted the letter I thought that they had decided against me so I called the credit card company to complain at which point I realized that the statement "we have determined that the credit you requested is appropriate" meant I won....

The third charge is the one that really upset me. It was a $60 charge from the hotel we stayed at in Healdsburg. When I called the hotel to find out what it was for, the front desk girl told me that it was for the dog we brought. I told her we did not bring a dog, wondering if I had travelled with so much dog hair on me and my stuff that it left the impression that there had been an actual dog in the room. But, no, apparently the housekeeping staff saw us with a dog. The front desk girl would not reverse the charge without the consent of the manager who was not there so in the message I left for him I more or less threatened to go to the Supreme Court if this charge was not reversed immeidately. Really, I felt like our integrity was in question. We snuck a dog in to save $60?

August has just begun. Can't wait to see what other stuff will be breaking in my world this month.

House aka Everybody Lies

2006-08-03T19:32:00.000-07:00

When we last left off the plumbers had descended upon my backyard to replace a pipe , tearing apart the fairly new landscaping in the process. That was on Saturday. On Monday, I showed the gardener the disaster site and he said, "Jesus Christ. I better fix this afternoon." As I was leaving a little while later he told me that he could not fix this afternoon and would come back on Tuesday.

He did not come back on Tuesday until the evening. I got home from dinner and there was a note that said, "I see you on Thursday morning at 6 am please have the door open. Thank you."

This morning I got up at 5:30 am, made sure the dog had plenty of outside time, unlocked the gate, and made sure the sprinklers were turned off. Needless to say, it is now 7:32 pm and the gardener has not arrived. I have no Plan B.

I am now drinking a glass of Preston Vin Gris and watching the very first episode of House. I started watching House during the second season. House is based on a column I used to read in the New York Times which was written by a doctor who walked through hard to diagnose cases from the first presentation of the symptoms to the cure. House is a doctor who has excellent diagnostic skills. He is also an extreme misanthrope with a leg injury and a dependence on Vicodin. He has very acute observation skills and very unorthodox methods. In many of the episodes, he almost kills the patients in order to find the cure. Of course, this could be because the show is an hour long and they have to fill it up with something.

I did not know until now that the theme of the show was set up in this very first episode. House claims from the beginning of the episode that "everybody lies" an assertion that is proven in many subsequent episodes as patients hide facts from the doctors or their loved ones for whatever reasons and, well, in House's own personal life as well.

I don't know if it is true that everybody lies but I am beginning to think my gardener might.

Why I Didn't Sleep Last Night

2006-07-31T08:33:00.000-07:00

1. It could have been the two lattes at Ammo. I am very sensitive to caffeine and I drank the second one around 12:30 or 1:00 (in the afternoon). After the first latte, I really wanted to run around the block seven times so I am not sure why I ordered the second one. Maybe it was peer pressure.

2. On Saturday a pipe burst in my backyard. The plumbers came to fix it. It took a long time and cost a lot of money and in the end they totally messed up some of my landscaping. My only hope appeared to be my gardener so all night scenarios were going through my head. The first scenario was that the gardener would say "no problem. I can fix this easily right now." The second scenario was that he would say he would come back later this week and then never return. This has happened before because I don't think he likes to say no. I did not envision what really happened which was him shaking his head and saying "Jesus Christ" over and over again.

3. When I did fall asleep, I kept having those dreams where you know you're dreaming and you want to wake up but you can't make yourself wake up. So when I really did wake up, I wanted to stay up instead of going through that again.

4. The weather has cooled down and the dog totally wanted to snuggle all night.

I'm tired.

Another Way Of Looking At Things

2006-07-30T07:18:00.000-07:00

I have written a couple of times here about my cleaning lady's knack for breaking things. Big things. Like my television. And I have also written about how she is my dog's best friend and she takes good care of us and I love her and her whole family and do not know what I would do without her.

So the other day my neighbors two doors down asked if she would have time to clean their house. Funnily enough, when I was looking for a cleaning lady several years ago, I asked this neighbor (it was just him, his wife was not yet in the picture) for his cleaning lady's number and he refused to give it to me because she was too good and he did not want her to get too busy.

She is no longer held in such high esteem. She was not doing a good job cleaning. There were flies on the window sill and she did not remove them. My neighbor's wife came home and the only way she could tell the cleaning lady had been there was that the bed, which she had left unmade, had been made. The final straw, though, was that she ate a bear claw that the wife had bought for the husband. There was only one bear claw. It was meant for him. And she ate it.

I told them how wonderful my cleaning lady is and all the projects around the house she takes on without me even asking but then I warned them about the breaking of things. They looked delighted.

"But of course," my neighbor's wife said. "If you're really cleaning, you're going to break things."

"That's right," my neighbor chimed in. "Our cleaning lady never broke a thing. That's how bad she was."

You might say it was generous of me to share my cleaning lady with the same neighbor who would not share his but I got him back. I told her to be sure and charge him a lot of money.

The Magic Sunglasses

2006-07-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

On our last night in Healdsburg don dokken and I ate at a French restaurant. Towards the end of the meal don dokken went to the men's room and I noticed that his sunglasses were sitting on the table. I made a mental note to remember to take them when we left.

I remember making the mental note and I kind of remember that I actually took them and handed them to him but in the morning as we were checking out of the hotel he told me his sunglasses were missing. I searched our rented car and searched our hotel room but did not find them. They were prescription sunglasses.

We drove to San Francisco. We had a wonderful morning at the de Young Museum and then a great lunch with Sandra and Matthew at The Beach Chalet. We drove to the airport, turned in the rental car, got on the plane. My mom picked us up from the Burbank Airport. don dokken stayed at my house for awhile and then drove home in his truck. I called the French restaurant and asked about the sunglasses and they were not there. At that point, I was pretty certain that I had picked them up and that don dokken would be calling me saying he found them packed somewhere or in a pocket or something.

That was on Wednesday. On Thursday don dokken drove to San Diego in his truck. On Friday he drove back from San Diego and went to his Aunt's house. After leaving his Aunt's house, he went to the post office and picked up some mail which he dumped on the passenger seat of his truck. He then went and bought a fan for his Aunt. He moved the mail on the passenger seat in order to place the fan there and sitting there on the seat were the sunglasses that he believed to be gone forever.

We can not quite figure it out. At first he thought maybe they weren't even his glasses but he tried them on, they were the right prescription and everything. He claims that he inspected them for stickiness and there was none so they could not have been stuck onto something all this time and then somehow readhered to his passenger seat. The only explanation we can come up with is that they transported themselves from Healdsburg to here. So that is it then. They are magic sunglasses.

Tour Day In Napa

2006-07-25T08:20:00.000-07:00

We all know that to me ten minutes early is the same as being on time and that I like being late as much as I like getting a blood test. So you can imagine how mortified I was to show up 1/2 an hour late to our tour of the caves that are the Jarvis Winery yesterday. It was really nobodys or everybodies fault. We were just misinformed about how long it would take to get there from our hotel.

Because I was sure that everyone on the tour hated us for being so late, I became extra chatty and obnoxious which only got worse when we went into the tasting room and started really drinking the wine. To get in and out of the tasting room you have to climb over a little stream so they have stepping stones for you to walk on. By the time we left the tasting room, our tour guide must have been concerned about me because he called me by my name and insisted on helping me across.

My obnoxiousness continued at the Peju winery where the taster asked us to guess the one state where they would not ship wine and I thought I was the most brilliant person alive for coming up with Utah (after first saying, for no reason whatsoever, Pennsylvania.)

On a whim, don dokken and I stopped at Indian Springs in Calistoga where I announced to the front desk that we had stayed there twelve years ago when we first met. "Oh yes, during the honeymoon phase," the front desk guy said. "Yeah, when we used to like each other," I said. After twelve years, they still had me in their computer! don dokken had a mud bath for old times sake while I had a massage.

We got lost on the drive home. Well, not lost, but we went in the wrong direction. Still, it was a beautiful drive through the mountains. We rented a Prius and, after a rocky start, we are both starting to love it.

Morning Conversation

2006-07-24T08:07:00.000-07:00

Me: What time is it? I don't want to miss the free continental breakfast.
don dokken: If you're looking forward to that breakfast, I think you're going to be disappointed.
Me: No, no I had a dream about it.
don dokken: Did you dream that you were still hungry after it was over?
Me: Well, I didn't dream about the actual breakfast. I had a dream about going to the breakfast. In New York. With kruthless and Cynthia Nixon.

I don't know how Cynthia Nixon got in my dream. All I know is that, in the dream, kruthless met her and her baby on the streets of New York and invited her into the hotel room that the three of us were sharing. We were chit chatting (don dokken pointed out several times that "Sex and the City" would be starting from the very, very, very beginning that very next week, we all tried to guess the age of Cynthia's baby.)

Cynthia pulled out some yogurt that her yoga teacher had recommended that was supposed to be amazing. I somehow magically knew that they were serving that very same yogurt at the free continental breakfast at our hotel but I looked at don dokken's watch and realized the breakfast would be over in five minutes. Since kruthless was dressed and don dokken could get dressed quickly, I pushed them out the door to go get me some of the yogurt and said something motivational like "hurry up, you losers."

In another part of the dream, I went to a huge meeting for one of my clients and they were trying to decide who should be their new General Counsel. There was consensus in the room that the only logical candidate was Tom Hanks. I thought this was a bad idea. But no one ever listens to me.

Hollywood Bowl Excitement

2006-07-17T07:03:00.000-07:00

When I was something like nine years old my mother took us to the Hollywood Bowl to see a performance for children by children of "The Ugly Duckling." It was a hot summer afternoon. In the middle of the performance, The Ugly Duckling barfed all over the stage. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me and my favorite Hollywood Bowl memory.

And now I have a new exciting Hollywood Bowl memory because I got to go in back and see the first aid station! (No worries - don dokken had a combo of bad food and too much heat but he is fine.)

The first aid station has two beds and a television and a bathroom and a glossy photo on their bulletin board of god only knows who. Right after we arrived, the place started jumping. A man came in and asked for a knuckle sandwich. Only he meant a knuckle bandage. "You must be hungry," the EMT said to him. "When's the last time you ate?" That was her standard question for everyone. They also liked to ask if the patient wanted them to call 911. When they asked us I was startled and said "Do you think we need to call 911?" and the EMT said "Not really but we're happy to call. And the reason we're happy to call is because we love looking at those firemen."

The next person to walk in was a very pale, very thin seventeen year old usher with a Jane Wiedlin voice. She was feeling faint and after a while one of the EMTs remembered that she had fainted about a week ago although they got into an argument about whether it was two weeks ago or one week ago until the EMT said definitively that it was the 4th of July which would have made it 10 - 11 days ago so I declared them both right. Once they determined that, the EMTs huddled around her. "What's going on with you, girly?" they asked. Because she was under eighteen, they had to call her mother to come pick her up.

While all this was going on, a couple wandered in wanting to know if there was an electrical outlet so the woman could use her breast pump. They then had a protracted discussion about whether or not she should pump right then (ten minutes before show time) or wait until intermission. Since nobody including the Jane Wiedlin usher girl knew when intermission was going to be they just decided to go for it. It was a full house.

At one point I left don dokken there to go to our seats with Carol and Eric. When I came back, the EMTs were sitting outside smoking and flirting with the police. "You left him alone?" I accused. "He's asleep," one of them said. "I gave him a blanket," the other said, kind of helpfully.

We left the first aid place and watched the dazzling Bollywood show. It was a beautiful night with a nice breeze. I think it would be fun to work at the Hollywood Bowl first aid office. don dokken is going to send them an eight by ten glossy.

Heating And Air Conditioning Make You Fat

2006-07-16T07:33:00.000-07:00

I already hate using my heating and air conditioning because it is expensive and because I can not stand having air - hot or cold - blowing on me. Now there is a third reason not to use the heating and air conditioning. There is a new study out that examines why Americans keep getting fatter which looks beyond the obvious reasons of getting less exercise and eating more, less healthy food. They found ten potential reasons that they think should be further investigated and the use of heating and air conditioning is one of them.

Here is the article in Slate which gives the explanation behind the heating/air conditioning theory (basically our bodies expend less energy to maintain the proper temperature plus being hot really kills the appetite) and lists some other possible reasons (less people are smoking, more people are taking weight increasing medication, we are getting less sleep, and so many chemicals in the air).

Oh, but what does it matter anyway? I have been listening to the news and I am feeling so pessimistic. The other day I asked don dokken if it was true that troops in combat are given cyanide pills so that if they are taken as prisoner of war and things get too bad they have the ability to kill themselves. He said I have been watching too many war movies but since I have never even seen "Apocalypse Now" I doubt that is true.

The Web I Wove

2006-07-14T19:33:00.000-07:00

I have been making appointments for myself and don dokken regarding finding a living situation for his mother. Although I could tell the people I have been calling that I am his personal assistant or girlfriend or partner or something, I choose instead to call him "my husband" and his mother "my mother-in-law." It just sounds more official and authoritative.

A couple of weeks ago when we got into the car after taking a tour of one of the places, he said "I guess I blew your cover." He was referring to a point in the tour when we were talking to the salesperson about bathtubs and showers and he looked at me and said "Your bathtub is really hard to get out of." I was already ahead of him though and did not believe my cover had been broken at all. "Well, she probably thinks we live in a palatial manor where we each have our own big bathrooms. Lots of husbands and wives have separate bathrooms with their own bathtubs"

Yesterday I called another place and it got a little more complicated than I expected. For one, she asked where the bills would be going and I said "Oh, yes well, um, let me see. Um, he has a special place where he likes his own personal bills to go to so, um, let me just, um okay here's the address." When she asked for the phone number I gave her my cell and don dokken's cell which is usually plenty for most people but then she asked "And then what's the phone number at you and your husband's home?" I was stumped.

Etsy

2006-07-13T19:32:00.000-07:00

It's the new ebay! Except it's for handmade things. Here is how they describe themselves:

Etsy is an online marketplace for buying and selling all things handmade. Etsy lets you shop by color, place, time and material.

If I were you, I would go to my friend Joules site and buy something now.

What I Did While Everyone Watched Italy Win

2006-07-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

Jill and I gave a Union Station tour to a physicians wine and fine dining social club. Afterwards, they invited us to join them for some wine and fine dining and socializing. The club has their own wine cellar and they served champagne, a sauvignon blanc, a bordeaux, and then a dessert wine.

The bordeaux was a Chateau Lafitte something something from the 1980's. I could not stop smelling it. And then when I finished drinking my own I had to start smelling Jill's and then I went from smelling Jill's wine to drinking Jill's wine. I probably would have grabbed the glass of everyone at the table except that would have been rude. That wine was like perfume.

At some point, Jill looked across the table and said "Could there be more glasses on this table?" and that's when I had to snap this picture although I realize now they had already collected most of the champagne glasses so the answer to Jill's question was most definitely a "yes." It was also about this time that a woman from another table wandered over. She was not a physician. She was an artist who worked on environmentally correct projects and she told us about her idea for a project which involved children and sanitary napkins and tampons. Something about making the tampons into whistles for the children. No worries, though, I did ascertain that the sanitary napkins and tampons were unused although I am not sure how that would help the environment exactly.

Jill had parked in the parking structure and I walked her to her car. I told her that the parking structure was very scary and had been a hotbed for rapist activity in the recent past. I then handed her stickers so she could park there for free. Talk about a mixed message.

Stuff On The Internets

2006-07-09T21:20:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been checking in at Jason Kottke's site. He seems to know everything that is happening on the world wide web and he posts what he calls "hypertext fragments" which are basically links and some slight commentary to the things he find interesting as he patrols the web. His website is hugely popular.

It was through his site that I first learned about the girls that got mixed up in the accident. I still read the blog of the real girl that lived - whitneycerak.blogspot.com - every day. I alternate between being offended by their intense belief that it's Jesus or the highway and fascinated that anyone could be so very unwavering and certain in their beliefs. And quite inexplicably I am interested in Whitney's recovery although I sometimes feel that we are getting the candy coated version. After the major head trauma she suffered, will she ever really be able to go back to Taylor U? When is she going to finally be reunited with her dog, Hunter? And, most importantly, will there be pictures and will I get to see them?

The latest quite fascinating (for me) link from Kottke is oneredpaperclip.com. This Canadian guy, Kyle MacDonald, wanted to see the barter system in action He started out with one red paper clip with the goal of bartering up for a house. Fourteen trades and one year to the day later he has done it. If you play around on the red paper clip blog, you can find his other blog where he talks about hand delivering postcards that he pulls from a barrel in the Galapagos. You have to read the way he tells the story. He is awesome.

Fourth Of July Miracles

2006-07-06T16:51:00.000-07:00

I do not like fireworks and neither does the dog and that is why the fourth of July is not our favorite holiday. I always try and make sure that I am home before the fireworks started and this year don dokken and I were back at my house by 7:00.

The first of the two 4th of July miracles happened when don dokken actually sat down and watched TV. And even some trashy TV. He watched "Project Runway" and became immediately invested in the outcome. Then he watched "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." Then he watched two episodes of the decidedly untrashy "House." I am not sure where this is all going to go but I'm thinking there might be some "Gilmore Girls" in don dokken's future.

The dog was snuggled next to don dokken watching television when the fireworks began and he did not even raise his head. We will never know if this is due to don dokken's calming effect or the fact that he is getting old and could not hear the fireworks above the noise of the television.
Either way, it was the most peaceful 4th of July I have had in seven years.

My Gardener Hates My Dog

2006-07-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago my gardener sarcastically called my dog his best friend. This morning my gardener knocked on my door to give me my bill and told me that he could take my dog down to Mexico. "Oh, do you think he'd like it down there?" I asked. "No," my gardener said. He then asked how old my dog is and how long most dogs live.

The dog has never done anything to be so disliked except for the barking and growling and generally acting like if only I would let him he would eat the guy for breakfast. Also, the dog is rather hard on the backyard making my gardener's job of keeping the yard looking fresh and lovely almost impossible. So I guess I get it.

It Is Hot

2006-07-02T06:12:00.000-07:00

I am starting to think this global warming thing is no joke. Yesterday I battled lethargy and forced myself to go to the Gelson's market. I was out of milk. On the way home I thought I saw the owner of my yoga school walking home. He lives in my neighborhood and it is not that long of a walk, maybe a mile, maybe even less. But it was one hot day. I turned the car around and, yes, it was him.

Me: Steve, do you want a ride?
Steve: No, I walk on purpose.
Me: Steve, it's great to walk on purpose but it's 104 degrees outside. I think you should get into my car.
Steve: Is it that hot? Hey, it's really great to see you!
Me: Do you have water with you?
Steve: (a car honks because I'm blocking their driveway) Wow, I'd love to catch up but people are really uptight these days.
Me: That's okay, we'll talk. Drink your water....

I noticed that he did walk on the shady side of the street.

Advice To College Grads

2006-07-01T12:37:00.000-07:00

The new college graduates are looking for jobs and I think I could make lots of money if I started a business helping them craft their resumes and cover letters. And, yes, I realize the flaw in the business model is that new college graduates have no money. I have been recruiting for one of my clients and here is free advice to new college graduates culled from some of the resumes I have seen:

- Please do not rely on spell check. Spell check will not tell you that you are responding to an "ad" not an "add."

- When you are applying for a job which lists writing and communication skills as the main qualification, I will be scouring your resume and cover letter for clues that may or may not corroborate (edited based on confusion expressed in the comment section) that you possess these skills. Writing a sentence like "job entitled raising money" does not instill me with confidence in your writing abilities. Also, there is really no need to randomly capitalize words.

- Though I understand that having just graduated from college you are light on work experience and need to fill up space, unless it is highly applicable to the job I do not really care that you were a camp counselor seven years ago. Listing being a member of a religious organization as your one and only extracurricular activity does not do it for me either. (And it's the "member" not "religious organization" part that bugs me. Couldn't you have at least helped out with the bake sale?)

- I would not use abbreviations in a resume. However, if you feel you must, I would recommend using Asst. rather than Ass. It's just more polite.

- Don't say "please feel free to call me" and then neglect to include your telephone number.

- I have a client whose pet peeve is cutesy email addresses. Get a new email address that doesn't contain the words "puppy" or "lovemuffin."

- The same client loves to google applicants' names and email addresses. If you have a public My Space, Live Journal, or Facebook account, remove the naked drinking pictures or whatever it is you crazy kids are sharing on-line these days.

Of course, it all depends on what kind of job you're applying for....

The Birkenstock Lady

2006-06-28T21:52:00.000-07:00

don dokken and I drove down to San Diego to visit his mother. On the way, we stopped in Clairemont at the Birkenstock store. His mother's podiatrist had recommended Birkenstocks for her high arches but finding a shoe to fit her very small feet was a challenge.

Birkenstocks are not known for their beauty. However, the woman at the Birkenstock store was wearing this sandal which was quite nice looking and matched the outfit I was wearing really well. So I tried on a pair. When I removed my tennis shoes to try them on, the Birkenstock lady looked at my feet and said "Wow, you have really nice feet. They're perfect." It reminded me of the time when I was in my early twenties and a man came over to clean my couch. I was not wearing any shoes and he commented on my perfect feet, became extremely distracted and could barely bring himself to remove his eyes from my feet and focus on the cleaning of the couch. Creepy. I put on a pair of shoes.

My euphoria from the Birkenstock lady's praise of my feet was short lived, however, because as I pranced around in the sandals that I did eventually buy she said to me , "Wow, you have some honking arches there yourself. Don't your feet hurt?" They don't. And, though don dokken assured me that the two are not mutually exclusive, I still don't understand how I went from "perfect" to "honking arches" in fifteen seconds.

Age Discernment Issues

2006-06-25T08:44:00.000-07:00

When I was in the desert I insisted that Julie come to my room after dinner one night because I was reading the latest issue of Vanity Fair and there were two things I wanted to show her. For one, there was a two page photo of the cast of "Entourage" and I thought that Julie should not have to go one more minute without knowing what Adrian Grenier looks like.

The second thing I wanted to show Julie was an ad for a skin care product with a picture of a woman and a caption that said something like "Can you believe she's 40? Use our product and it will take ten years off your face," meaning that the woman in the picture wasn't supposed to look a day over 30. But to me she totally looked 40. Now if the ad asked if I believed she was actually 50, I would have been impressed and maybe even bought their product. Julie listened to me rant and rave - for some reason I was quite passionate about how NOT thirty the woman looked - but looking back I have no idea whether she agreed with me or not. She had already told me that Adrian Grenier was not her type so it might have been that she did not want to disappoint me twice in a row.

Later that night I was flipping through channels and found this CBS reality show called "Tuesday Night Book Club" which was an accurate depiction of the book club I used to be in because nobody read the book and they just ate and drank and talked trash instead. As the narrator was introducing the characters she said "At 30, Tina who started the book club is the oldest member." No way. No way was that woman 30 and all the other women in their 20's.

This blog post was going to be all about how I have lost all perspective about what people are supposed to look like probably because I think I am still in my thirties but when I went looking for links to the "Tuesday Night Book Club" I was reading the bios on the CBS site and it turns out the Tina chick is in her late 40's and a couple of the women are in their 30's. Vindicated but jeez....

Conversation With A Security Guard At Union Station

2006-06-23T13:22:00.000-07:00

(He was from San Antonio, Texas. That explains a lot I think.)

Security Guard (looking at my name tag): So what is the Los Angeles Conservancy?

Me: Blah, blah, conservancy propaganda, blah, blah, blah

SG: Hey, are you Jewish?

Me: Yes (I did not bat an eye as this is the second time in two months that this has happened to me.)

SG: I thought so. I lived in New York for a while and I had a friend named David who has the same last name. Wait, do you know him?

Me: No, it's a pretty common last name.

SG: Well, I hope you don't mind me asking but are you, um, what's it called? The really religious people? Orthodox?

Me: If I was Orthodox I wouldn't be wearing this short of a skirt.

SG: So you're reform then, right?

Me: Right.

SG: You know, you don't look...well, actually, you do look Jewish. I didn't think so at first.

Me: I know, it's very confusing, my mom has blonde hair and blue eyes. She might be Polish or something.

don dokken and my dad (independently of each of each other after I told them this story): It sounds like he was flirting with you.

Best Phone Message From My Mom Ever

2006-06-22T15:36:00.000-07:00

"Um, I'm watching Oprah, and um I'm really confused. Could you call me? Because, um, Valerie Bertinelli. Wasn't she married to Bon Jovi? Um, just call me and let me know who she was married to, okay? Because I'm really confused."

I'm actually not trying to make fun here. I am very impresed that my mother keeps up with Valerie Bertinelli and Bon Jovi and maybe even Eddie Van Halen.

My Powers Of Observation

2006-06-21T17:17:00.000-07:00

My observation skills are nil. I once had a friend who apparently had beautifully colored eyes that total strangers commented on all the time and I one day told him I had no idea what color his eyes were. He was shocked and hurt. Just know that unless you have icy blue eyes that look like they belong to an alien I will never notice the color of your eyes no matter how long I know you or how close up I get to them.

So the other day I was walking around my neighborhood and I saw this house that has to be one of the ugliest houses I have ever seen and yet I have passed by it practically every day either by foot or by car for the last eight years and have never noticed it until just now. There it is pictured right above here. That is the front of the house. Isn't it ugly? And why are all my cell phone pictures tilted? Maybe my head sits on top of my neck at an odd angle. I would be the last to know.

I have made a resolution to try and be more observant as I go on my morning walks. Here is what I noticed today:

- The Persian Palace that has been on and off the market for the last year is in escrow. They were originally asking $1.7M and lowered the price to $1.2M. I wonder what they got for it.

- The real estate agent couple down the street are doing some major remodeling. I can not ask them what they are doing because, unbeknownst to them, I am not speaking to them. The reason I am not speaking to them is that many years ago I was driving down my street and the husband, who was outside watering the lawn, decided I was going to fast (me! The little old lady from Pasadena!) and turned his hose on my car. I was so mad that after pulling into my driveway I simultaneously called the police, went looking for the gun that I would never own, and went to talk to Jeff, the goodwill ambassador of the neighbor.

Jeff promised he would talk to the guy about putting an end to his obnoxious vigilanteism and I can just imagine how the conversation went "You know the crazy lady two doors down from me with the hypervigilant dog? I think she might be taking out a restraining order on you...." Well, anyway, in the intervening years both the husband and wife have knocked on my door to try and get me to list my house with them so I guess some of us have gotten over the incident.

- It is Sports Camp time at the private high school down the street. People actually stand outside the chain link fence to watch the kids warm up and play sports. I do not know if the people are relatives or just strangers who like to watch shirtless teenage boys with their butts in the air (they were doing some sort of stretching exercise....)

- 88.7% of all people are on their cell phone as they drive. They are not paying attention. I can not tell you the number of times I would have been hit by now if I just took it on faith that people would notice me as I crossed the street. There have been several times over the years where I have actually hit car hoods with my fist because the driver did not see me and stopped that close.

I may not notice much but I always, always, always make eye contact.

Twin Worry List

2006-06-19T09:46:00.000-07:00

My dad has said that my mom could make a fortune as a professional worrier. I think I would do pretty darn good myself. So I am publishing here a list of the worries that have evolved in the three months since the twins were born. Some have gone away but have been quickly replaced by new ones. It is all good because we get bored very easily and without something to worry about I think I would have to go back to biting my nails. Here are, to my best recollections, my mom's worries along with their current status:

Eva
1. Eva is not very responsive. It is possible she has a hearing problem.
Status: Her hearing was checked and it is fine.

2. Since Eva's hearing test has come out normal, we better make sure she is establishing eye contact. It is possible she has autism.
Status: Eva's eye contacting abilities are excellent. She is a happy, responsive baby.

3. Eva's legs are very fat. She should not be wearing dresses and she will definitely not be ready for a swimsuit this summer.
Status: Eva is big. She weighs over 16 pounds. This brings up a worry for me. If she gets much heavier, no one will be able to lift her. I looked in my baby book and I did not weigh 16 pounds until I was eight months old. I also found out that my neighbor's 19 month old weighs 24 pounds. Hopefully Eva will learn to walk soon.

4. Eva likes to stick out her tongue all the time. All that tongue activity could be pointing to a speech impediment in her future.
Status: Too soon to tell although I am quite confident her parents will spare no expense to ensure that she talks right.

Isaac
1. Isaac has stomach problems. His formula needs to be changed to something iron free. The iron is too hard on his stomach.
Status: The doctors are unconcerned because he is gaining weight and his parents don't really want to mess around with his food right now.

2. Isaac has stomach problems. Can't we start feeding him cereal? Cereal would be much better for his stomach than formula with iron.
Status: His parents say he is not ready for cereal.

Overall
There is no fence around the pool. There are rumors that the babies have started turning over by themselves. C'mon, mom and dad, build those babies a fence!