Hey Ladies! Don't Do This!

Here's another very important lesson from the 40licious Hall of Greater Learning and Regrets:

Do not attempt to use a new bikini-line hair removal cream WITHOUT your contacts in and AFTER two glasses of wine.

Pilots will have a very difficult time navigating the landing strip.

Now I Get It (Bonus: My New Boyfriend!)

Aha! Now I understand. It's always been sort of creepy to me that there are few, if any, 40licious people in Los Angeles. Now that I'm spending the week in Palm Springs, I understnd that Nature abors Nice 'n' Easy and that all the post-40liciouses come here. Therin lies the balance!

I thought that the epitome of happiness was bopping along Palm Canyon Drive after a successful work event to the soundtrack of Monsoon Wedding. But when I came home to the Hotel Zoso, I realized that my epitome was bested by a Liza Minelli impersonator rocking Pink's "I'm Coming Out." Whole new meaning, really.

BONUS BLOG ENTRY: MY NEW BOYFRIEND!

Recently, I have recieved hundreds, if not thousands, of phone calls and emails inquiring as to the status of my lovelife. I can no longer hide the truth: Sonny Bono and I have been captured -- despite our best efforts -- canoodling in the streets of Palm Springs.

I've got him, babe.

A Life, Unraveled

Blogging: How much do we say? Whose privacy do we sacrifice? What's best left as veiled metaphor?

Read this excellent piece by Emily Gould in the NYT Magazine.

Do the Bump

Dear All You People Who Make Movies About Getting/Being Pregnant (including, but not limited to you, Tina Fey, and Judd Apatow),

I really, really, really like movies. However, I keep finding myself watching movies about:

1. people who want to get pregnant but can't, so they have someone else do it!
2. people who don't want to get pregnant but buddy up with someone who really does!
3. people who thought they couldn't get pregnant, but do!
4. All of the above, together in one movie!

Which is not to say that I don't like these movies. I laughed and laughed and vowed to go back to screenwriting after I saw "Knocked Up." But "Juno" freaked my shit because it was too, too creepily close to home: The characters were named Marc, with a "c," just like my ex-Marc, and Vanessa, and he was a musician and she wanted to adopt and he was too much of a manchild and couldn't handle the whole kid thing. And so on, throughout the film. Diablo Cody clearly had been eavesdropping on my life.

The problem with movies in general is this whole happy and/or satisfying ending problem. I'm pretty sure I'm textbook beginning of the movie, but I'm not sure I get to have that ending.

I know! How about a movie where the main character is single and 40licious and, by day, is equal parts thrilled, disappointed and overwhelmed by her socially acceptable job in corporate America, but at night, is home, blogging and eating PinkBerry and rice crackers until she feels like she has to barf? And she realizes that she doesn't really want a baby after all, and takes all those adoption-agency packets and sweeps them into the mixed-paper recycling? And then, seeking satisfaction, she decides to make a major change. Cut to: She's on top of a mountain in a misty third-world country where she doesn't ever need more than a cashmere sweater to keep her warm. Except she's got her dog with her! And she's all enlightened! And here's the kicker -- she's got a cup of PinkBerry with her! How do you like that movie, Tina and Judd? Can you make me one of those? Please?

Memorial Day Weekend last year I had to miss Natalie's barbecue because a little life was ebbing out of me, in sad tiny blobs. For the third time.

And I'm not sure I can ever again watch another one of those baby movies with a happy ending. Unless it's mine.

40 no-so-licious

I realize this will come as a shock to the 40licious fan, but there are some things that are NOT so great about turning 40licious.

For example:

• You think you're a winner and you blow your $19 in scratch off tickets, reinvest in more tickets, then all you get is one more free ticket. You'd think I'd know that this is why the house stays on top. But apparently, I do not. I hope that my donation provides some free lunch for poor kids or whatever.
• Thursdays used to be called "thirsty Thursdays" and we'd all go out and get hammered because the bars were less crowded and because it was kind of a bonus party night with few classes on Friday. These days, I am really, really lucky if I can muster the gumption to get to Trader Joe's, buy wine, get out of the bath and make it to the couch in time for "The Office" and "30 Rock."
• You realize that the man you once prayed to God for, in front of a candle purchased at a Wicca store, tears streaming down your face, who lives an ocean and an impossibility away, is more consumed by getting rid of the rabbits that plague his garden than having a love affair. And that he loves you, but not in the "we will get married for love and a Green Card and have adorable children with sweet Mid-Atlantic accents" way. And you're OK with that, because his own karma is his own karma. Hey, maybe that's a good thing. Scratch that from this list and add it to the "good things about being 40licious" list.
• Sometimes a big-ass black hair grows out from somewhere on my face. Whut up with THAT???

I think I'll go walk the dog. At least she's not complicated.

Sex and Gambling Made Easy

When we last left off, dear blreaders (okay, maybe there's not a good snappy name for "blog readers"), I had great optimism for my feng shui yoga idea, and had won some money and felt all in love and whatnot after practicing in the Prosperity corner and Relationships corner of the studio.

Today, I bought a raffle ticket at a fund-raiser in which we got to see Ricki Lake's hoo-hoo, and won a KCRW membership, swag tee, Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings CD, and two baby snugli things.

Also, I came home to a letter from my very, very good friend, George Bush, telling me that he's giving me $570! Tax free! That I'm supposed to go out and spend!

Try feng shui yoga today! It's easy! What have you got to lose?

An Open Letter to Paul Schaffer

A few months ago, a lovely guy named Scott at work felt sorry for me when he learned that I had NO TV. So he cleared out his rec room/poker space and donated his television to the Irish-American Pop Culture Scholarship Fund, which happens to be housed here on Louise Street.

So tonight I was watching said electronic appliance, and saw Paul on Letterman, and thought, "please, oh, give it up. Now."

However, I redact.

Because Paul has made a career out of being his own bad Canadian musical funky self, and there's not a whole lot of people who can claim such a long run as sidekick.

I hereby proclaim May 16 as International 40licious Paul Schaffer Day.

Don't try to stop me. It's nearly midnight.

Quite Possibly My Best Invention Yet

One of the loveliest people I know is Natalie Carter. Who is a Realtor. She's an excellent confidante, supporter of even the zaniest of notions, and embodies the concept of fabulousness itself. Seriously, if I were ever invited to the Oscars, which I probably will be soon, I will bring Natalie and wear her fat clothes.

One day I offered to come over and feng shui Nat's place. She had some kind of funky dusty stuff in her love corner, and we put some plants and a $50 bill in her prosperity corner. The next day, SWEAR TO GOD, Nat got a call from a man who was interested in buying a place. And had several business partners. She sold eight properties on that call.

For myself, a couple years ago I shifted around my prosperity corner, which is the lefthand corner of my bedroom, and the next day I got a call from the lovely and delightful Anthony Yeo, who ended up hiring me for the job I hold now.

So. Anyway.

I also do quite a bit of yoga.

When you put two, two, two great tastes in one, you get FENG SHUI YOGA.

Now, if that sounds a little too Grape Nuts and Yogurt for you, consider this: Yoga is a more ancient healing practice than penicillin. Yoga keeps people young and healthy and beautiful. Feng Shui, really, is another word for prayer and visualization and "putting it out the the universe."

When you combine the two, you have the physical manifestation of the prayer. So whatever corner you practice in, you're working toward that end. For example, tonight I was in the prosperity corner. With the intention of making obscene amounts of money so I can make life better for everyone around me. (Funnily enough, I had a very good audition for Deal or No Deal's new syndicated show on Monday).

So. We'll just see. I'll keep you posted. Even though it's crass to talk about money.

DREAM(land)

DREAM(land) - Jail Gallery - May 10, 2008

Mother's Day Edition Part II: Instant Karma Got Me

So here I am being all snarky and crazy because of the all the nutty things my mother is saying. I want to write them down and use them as blogging gold. I will add to my previous post:

1. Whenever you try shoes on you have to make sure you don't tip over!
2. Watch your bag! Watch your bag! Watch your bag! (screamed from across DSW)
3. To Chinese foot massage guy: My daughter is single! And she's a millionaire!

However, she does come through with gems that are so profound and true. And things I can't possibly understand until many, many years later. And I am humbled beyond all confession. Like these, for example:

1. Whatever you want to be doing 10 years from now, you have to start today.
2. Don't let anyone put you on a pedestal. Because they can knock you right off, and then where will you be?
3. What you see is what you get, kid.

I'm really glad she's here.

40licious: Special Mother's Day Edition

My mother has come to visit for the weekend. She has brought her dog, Miss Chi, and we are all happily ensconced in our little home here.

The good thing about having your mom come visit is that there is always an expanded opportunity for learning! For example! In the last 12 hours, I have learned:

1. That the shell necklace I sometimes wear around my neck might slough cells into my skin! And that I shouldn't wear it!
2. That I might get hit by a car if I don't look while I'm crossing the street!
3. That I should wear my work glasses for work, and my other glasses when I'm not at work!
4. That dogs are aliens that have come to Earth to help mankind!

More momisms to come!

Happy Mother's Day, everyone.

You've Got To Hide Your Love Away

One very good thing about being 40licious is that your powers of insight become more finely honed. You can scan situations and people and get a read in mere fractions of a seconds. Bionic, pretty much. However.

However.

However, when you turn your powers on your own 40licious self, you can be in for a world of awakening, and not all of it good. For example.

I have just paid close attention to some of my patterns and I fear that I might have a problem with intimacy. Which might explain why I've been laid more than I've been married. Not that I'm counting, and not that either happens that often these days, but I can tell you I've been married ZERO times. (There was the post-911 Big Sparkly Diamond Engagement, but that doesn't count at all.) I'm thinking that when it comes time to get to the inner chamber with someone else, I suddenly have to go back to the car for tissues and gum and did I check the antifreeze and maybe I have to vacuum the upholstery ... and so on.

So in the spirit of furthering education, if you are dating me, if you plan to date me, or if you mistakenly believe you are dating me, here are some helpful tips to help us both negotiate my issue:

1. I might check out. If I do this, it's not you, it's me. In all seriousness. It could go like this: You're probably being lovely and affectionate, and I'm making up cute couples nicknames for us ala Brangelina and Bennifer. Then suddenly, you zoom in for an innocent peck on my cheek and I feel like I have to run hard and fast and dunk my face in a five-gallon bucket of PinkBerry. Don't worry, though, this feeling will probably pass. I hope you like PinkBerry too.

2. If #1 occurs, your best bet is to just lay low for a while and let me get my breath back. It's helpful to know that you are a good and solid person and that you will be there on the other side.

3. For me, if we're sleeping in the same bed, me putting my pinky under your thigh is exactly the same currency as you spooing on me, only without the sweatiness and awkward positioning. Unless one of us has had a bad dream.

4. I will always tell you the truth. But sometimes you have to ask me very personal questions, because I don't like to begin hard conversations. I do, however, usually feel better after a hard conversation, and you probably do too.

5. If I break up with you, and then make out with you on the beach the next day, we are probably not exactly broken up. It's a way for me to establish control.

6. Check in with my vibe from time to time. You might be wondering aloud about if we should retire in cowboy country or Tibet or the East Village, and I might just want to get in the bath and read Real Simple. By myself. With the door closed. It's not that I don't want to spend the rest of my years making yak butter sculptures with you -- I probably do -- but I won't come up with any good ideas for them unless I'm fully there.

7. Love. Love. Love.

8. Do your own thing. I will like you better. You will like yourself better. Let me miss you. We will have more to talk about when you come home.

9. Be my rock. Be cool. Be sure.

10. It's never about what it's about.

Tonight I wish I had a big declaration to make. I wish I could say I've given it all up to move to Montana and open a junk store. A small town, perhaps, where recycling is encouraged, and they need just my brand of savoir faire for a cafe-slash-artspace that I will open. Also, you could buy the stuff in the cafe if you wanted, like the cup or the table.

But I don't have that tonight. I am not getting married. I am not pregnant. I am not going to get my masters' degree, and I am not even going to freak on the Haagen Dazs in the freezer. I'm living my little life, in little glendale. Which has become Big Glendale over the weekend, with the introduction of the Americana at Brand, a high-end shopping mecca that has made our depressing, dusty main drag a kind of Vegasdisney. Suddenly there are shrubs and grass and a pond and a Kiehl's. And an 18plex theater.

My first thought upon sighting this was, "Wow, maybe if people buy more crap it will make our Salvation Army better."

Here's to trickling down.

Green Living

Two of my stories came out in Parent & Child magazine:

Green Up Your Act
and
Work It Out

Enjoy!