Guilty Pleasure

So my best friend got me watching "So You Think You Can Dance" this season and it is my newest guilty pleasure. Not only do I love all the different dance genres that are featured, but tonight LL Cool J appeared on the show debuting his new song, "Baby". I was a teen in the late 80s/early 90s and remember being seduced by LL's silky smooth vocals on "I Need Love". Since that time, he's been consistently putting out fabulous music with energy and ingenuity. It was great seeing him on a show that featured LA Ballet Dancers in a Pas De Deux. It shows the enormous appeal of music and dance combined and I love that the diversity is evident throughout the show.

Don't fritter away your happiness.

When I am upset, food is my chosen solace. Like many people out there a donut or fries are not only enjoyable after a sucky day of work or an unfulfilling job search, but they are also a reward for surviving the not so fun aspects of being a responsible adult. Unlike normal addictive substance that people can quite cold turkey (alcohol, nicotine, caffeine), there's no way to just give up food. Lately my relationship with food has not been all that stellar. For years I have been a secretive and shameful eater...I'm not really sure who I am hiding from since there's no one around to judge me except myself. I guess taking it one meal at a time is the best encouragement I can give myself. After a really bad work day (one of many lately) I was able to avoid the donut shops and the drive-thrus on my way home from work and instead stopped at the great wholesale grocery store where I bought cherries, grapefruit, and nectarines. Picked up some beautiful dried fruits too. Not exactly sugar-free, but at least their natural sweets to tame my out of control sweet tooth.

I continue to be a work in progress and will probably battle my weight for years to come, but for now, I am going to just work on today.

Which Celebrity Chef am I?

Which Celebrity Chef are You?

You are PAULA DEEN! You are all about getting back to your roots! It ain't about bein' fancy or low-fat, it's about FAMILY, FRIENDS and FUN! Paula's Home Cooking would be THE IDEAL SET for you!

How do you compare? Take this test! | Tests from Testriffic

Ode to the Headache

My constant friend for four weeks straight
Not acting myself, a crabby friend and mate
The throbbing feeling inside my brain
Insistent feelings of tension and pain

The ongoing search to find a cure
Yoga, pills, sleep, lose their allure
When none work, none relieve the ache
It's all I can do to function, more then I can take

Go away you evil fiend
Leave me alone, stop making me mean
I want the freedom to think pain free
Doctor find a cure and give it to me!!!

ABCs of Me

Courtesy of my wonderful cousin, The Angel Forever!

A = Age: 33
B = Bed size: Queen
C = Chores you hate: Vacuuming, I just hate the sound!
D = Dessert you love: Pie, any type of fruit is great, but cherry, apple, blueberry, strawberry-rhubarb, and gooseberry are my favorites.
E = Essential start your day item: caffeine in coffee or diet coke form.
F = Favorite actor(s): Don Cheadle, Morgan Freeman, and John Barrowman.
G = Gold or Silver: Yellow gold
H = Height: 5′1”
I = Instruments you play: I think the question should actually be, what didn’t I play?
Piano
Flute
French horn
Trumpet
Saxophone
Suxaphone
Tuba
Guitar
Violin
J= Job title: Senior Rep…it’s a glorified Customer Service title.
K= Kids: Just my husband.
L = Living arrangements: House
M = My name is: Honey
N = Nicknames: Megastein and Vidby
O = Overnight hospital stay: I was born premature and hung out in an incubator for awhile.
P= Pets: None
Q = Favorite quote: "Peace cannot be kept by force. It can only be
achieved by understanding." - Albert Einstein
R = Right or left handed: Right handed
S = Siblings: One sister, one brother, and 4 guys who are brothers of the heart.
T = Time you woke up today: 8AM
U = Unique about you: I like going to movies alone, but rarely get to do it.
V = Vegetable you hate: raw tomatos
W = Worst habit: procrasination
X = X-Rays you’ve had : wrist, ankle, knee, back, teeth, head, shoulders
Y = Yummy food you make: matzo ball soup
Z = Zodiac Sign: Libra

They found who did it!!!!

A friend of mine who sat in front of me during Algebra 3&4 in High School was murdered in 1995. I have often thought of her beauty, kindness, strength, and terrific sense of humor and how it was cut short by some horrible person. In the past I have contacted my hometown police department to find out whether an arrest had been made in the case. Unfortunately each time I called I would find that no progress had been made in the case or that the person I spoke with could not release information to me because I am not a family member. Periodically I would search the internet using her name to see if anything could be gleaned from the information superhighway. Over the intervening years I sort of gave up on ever seeing a resolution in the case. Thankfully, tonight I tried searching her name again and the above article was what I found. Hallelujah, they caught the damn bastard who snuffed out the life of a loving mother, sweet and loyal friend, and just a wonderful human being. Thanks to the police department for never giving up!

Stories, stories, stories

I yearn for stories, the thirst to know to people to understand what motivates them, how they lived their lives, what they felt their purpose here was. Mostly, I want to know my family members, my grandparents, yet they are all dead, they mostly live on only in pictures and brief snippets revealed from older relatives. To have known them as a child with memories already quickly faded, leaves aching holes of sadness and regret. If only I had understood then what I know now, we all die, the legacies we leave behind are for those who love us and those we love. I look forward to being reunited in heaven, but for now, I seek stories.

I have been reading two books about WWII, in a bid to feel closer to my paternal grandparents who both immigrated to America from Germany. They were brave, moving to a country where they did not know the language, coming here with brother and sisters instead of parents who choose not to leave the old country. My dream is to someday travel to Germany and see the places they once called home. I often wonder if my ancestors are proud of me, if this seemingly easy life in comparison to the world they grew up in. Whole countries do not thirst to exterminate me because of my religion, I know no other language then my mother tongue, and have food and shelter without hardship. My parents have not been carted to the death camps for slaughter. And yet, that which they sacrificed so much for, their religion, I do not practice with fervor. For the most part, I am assimilated, my Judaism is my heritage, more culturally a part of me then a daily devotional religious practice.

My maternal lineage is all but a mystery to me. I know that my Nana and Papa's parents came from the Ukraine, but little more then that. It should be enough to know that they were good people, hard working ambitious and generous. My Papa was a tall man with a booming voice who called me "Missy" and held me on his shoulders high in the air. Nana would paint my nails and tell me that my hands looked like hers, a fact I hold close to my heart. Memories of them are growing ephemeral, every year a little more misty and obscure. I miss them all, and feel adrift in the large world without concrete stories of them to keep on paper, to know they won't fail when my own ability to remember has already begun to fade.

Work

Walking down to my car tonight, I felt astonished, had another day already passed me by? It went so quickly with no feelings of satisfaction, pride, or redemption. I know that there are people out there making a difference, actually devoting their time to bettering the world we live in and yet here I am, just earning a paycheck. What happened to the idea of a career instead of a job? Am I merely a cog in the wheel of the large machine that is the entertainment industry. I'm certainly not the first person to feel that they're just marking time until the weekend.

So, if I am a solution oriented individual (like my resume claims), what can be done? Where to go from here? Guess it might be time to take some classes, figure out what I'm truly good at and maybe even enjoy what I'm doing.

When it comes to career aspirations, I have hundreds, and I mean that sincerely. Since I like writing stories, I often place myself in heroic jobs, jobs that strike me as truly giving back to the community, you know, EMT, nurse, criminalist, forensic psychologist, sheriff's deputy, in all truth, I could never go back to the school for the amount of time and necessary to obtain a degree beyond the BA I already have.

That's when I get completely nuts and believe that I should be a chef. It sounds like a fun and creative profession, but the reality is that it is a crapload of workand repetitious as hell. A bookstore would be very cool, especially the discount.

What were you listening to when…?

Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners when I crashed my car after a late night of filming when I was at USC School of Cinema-Television.

Nothing Compares 2 U by Sinead O’Connor came on as my first date with my High School boyfriend was ending, but instead of driving me home, we cruised around the neighborhood until the song was over.

Man, I feel like a Woman! By Shania Twain – I listened to this song non-stop to and from my first administrative job interview in the Entertainment Business (prior to that, I fancied myself a post production diva, but sadly, the solitude of editing was not for me). BTW, I ended up landing the job in April 1999 and worked for that company for 4 years going from assistant to manager.

I Want It That Way by Take That – Heard this one playing on the radio after I kicked my college boyfriend out of my house for wanting to go all the way when I wasn’t ready (okay, I thought G-d would kill me if I “did it”, my Mom was super good at the “You should be a virgin when you get married” thing).

Writing

I have been more or less keeping a journal from the time I was in Junior High School. My favorite teacher, Mrs. C gave me a pretty flowered lined paper journal. I didn't really have a clear idea of whether I wanted a "Dear Diary" accounting of my adolescent trials and tribulations, but I did know that I wanted to record some of the things I was going through so I could gain perspective and maybe even a little distance from the chaos of life. It proved to be a calming practice, but leaves around the irritating evidence of one's foibles in acid-free black and white.

I'm not sure why in recent years I only seem to write when I am angry or depressed, for some reason it helps me get the negative emotions out of my head where they rattle around endlessly. Maybe it is the clarity or just the feeling of being justified in my upset even if it is only for an audience of one. I'd like to take a creative writing class, but seem to have every excuse in the book as to why I don't. Reading is my real passion, but I think I have something to say that other's would want to read...guess I need to stop procrastinating.

Anniversary

Jedi and I just celebrated 3 years together. Hard to imagine not having him in my life. We've been in the new house almost 3 months now and are almost out of boxes. Hopefully once we have everything moderately organized then we can start on some of the real work, like trying to make this place look like it escaped the 1970s. I mean the glass wall tiles and wood paneling are a little much. I think the front room would look really great in a cappuccino-like color. Not very exciting I admit, but a hell of a lot better then the white, which looks pretty dinghy.

It still strikes me as unreal that we purchased a house. Still, I think we are both trying to turn it into a place that reflects our interests and personalities. Jedi has taken to having a pool like a duck takes to water. There are few days when he is at home that he doesn't find some small bit of time to jump in.

I really love that our place has fruit trees too. The plum tree is full of fruit just beginning to ripen from green to burgundy. I'm crossing my fingers that a large batch is all ready at the same time so I can make jam out of it.

40th Birthday Mooning!

Our friend Blinky celebrated his 40th Birthday this past week and for his party he requested that everyone join him at Mugs Away Saloon in Laguna Niguel, CA for the 28th Annual Mooning of the Amtrak Trains!?!?! Well, folks I can honestly say that this is the one and only time I have ever mooned anything. Does that make me a prude or just another member of the common sense club? What can I say, it was a blast, somewhere between being like the Sturgis Bike Rally and like Spring Break at Lake Havasu. Diverse levels of the dregs of humanity and some of the nicest, friendliest, and weirdest people you will ever meet. We had a great time!

Happy Birthday Blinky, thanks for celebrating in a unique and fun way!

Time Flies....

So…let’s see what’s new since 2007 started? Well, Jedi proposed to me on 2/2/07 in a hot air balloon over Temecula wine country and I said “yes, Yes, YES”! On 3/13 we went into escrow on a house in Tujunga that has a beautiful backyard with tons of rose bushes, fruit trees, and an awesome pool. Keep your fingers crossed that all goes well and we will be homeowners by mid-April.

I have basically abandoned my blog this past year which is ironic considering I wanted to make a New Year’s resolution to post at least 10 times per month. Oh well, sometimes the best thought out plans come to naught. But I am trying to be kind to myself and accept the limitations that 24 hour days impart. Work has been extremely busy since the New Year. It’s good to have the time filled and to feel good about all I am accomplishing for my customers, but at the same time it has added stress to each day…not so good.

Hopefully, this is the beginning of some new posts on the blog and a new commitment to myself and how interesting I think I am (LOL). Stay tuned!

Poem

Ode to my job

I sit at the computer and stare into space
Wondering while I mark time in this place
Is this all there is? Is this really me?
A cog in a wheel? A bolt in a machine?

But alas, without me, where would you be?
You'd have nothing to watch, but a blank black TV
So I write POs and send out the tapes
Of Harry Potter and Professor Snape

Chained to my desk, a hardworking drone
To keep the public amused and make them feel not-so-alone
This is the druggery that frustrates me so,
But alas, I'll stop bitching and get on with the show.

Book Review: Facing the Wind: A True Story of Tragedy and Reconciliation by Julie Salamon, Sandra Burr

Facing the Wind is about the murder of a family by their beloved and seemingly stable patriarch. In 1978 Bob Rowe killed his wife, two sons (one who was disabled) and adopted daughter with a baseball bat. He was found to be not-guilty by reason of insanity (some of the best parts of the book deal with the insanity defense and how his lawyers plot their case). This is an incredible true crime book written with the participation of many people who’s lives were touched by the tragedy, including the cooperation of the woman, Colleen, who eventually married Rowe years after he was released from the mental hospital. It is this massive scope that is both what recommends the piece as well as its downfall.

As a reader one is unsure what statement the authors are trying to make, you’re unable to be righteously angry at Rowe, since it is amply evident that he truly was suffering a debilitating mental illness, but at the same time you feel that his successful treatment and life after his family’s monstrous murders is unfair. The fact that he is able to recover, remarry, and have a daughter with his new wife fills you with questions about the lives he took. This book challenges it’s readers to see beyond simple categories of good and evil and confront the humanity within atrocities that is sometimes experienced by both the victim and the perpetrator. I whole-heartedly recommend this book to people interested in true-crime not for it’s sensationalism, but for the truths behind the headlines.

Personal Hero: Harry Bingham

Another person, like Chiune Sugihara who listened to their heart instead of their government:

Hiram (or Harry) Bingham IV by Richard Haft (sent to me by my Great Aunt and Uncle)

Just a little more evidence of the behavior of the Roosevelt administration toward the Jews of Europe during WW2 ---

Sometime ago, then Secretary of State Colin Powell gave a posthumous award for"constructive dissent" to Hiram (or Harry) Bingham IV. For over fifty years, the State Department resisted any attempt to honor Bingham. For them, he was an insubordinate member of the US diplomatic service, a dangerous maverick who was eventually demoted. Now, after his death, he has been officially recognized as a hero. Bingham came from an illustrious family. His father (on whom the fictional character Indiana Jones was based) was the archeologist who unearthed the Inca City of Machu Picchu, Peru in 1911.

Harry entered the US diplomatic service and, in 1939, was posted to Marseilles , France as American vice-consul. The USA was then neutral and, not wishing to annoy Marshal Petain's puppet Vichy regime, President Roosevelt's government ordered its representatives in Marseilles not to grant visas to any Jews. Bingham found this policy immoral and, risking his career, did all in his power to undermine it. In defiance of his bosses in Washington, he granted over 2,500 USA visas to Jewish and other refugees, including the artists Marc Chagall and Max Ernst a family member of the writer, Thomas Mann.

He also sheltered Jews in his Marseilles home, and obtained forged identity papers to help Jews in their dangerous journeys across Europe. He worked with the French underground to smuggle Jews out of France into Franco's Spain or across the Mediterranean, and even contributed to their expenses out of his own pocket.

In 1941, Washington lost patience with him. He was sent to Argentina, where, later, he continued to annoy his superiors by reporting on the movements of Nazi war criminals. Eventually, he was forced out of the American diplomatic service completely.

Bingham died almost penniless in 1988. Little was known of his extraordinary activities until his son found some letters in his belongings after
his death. Many groups and organizations, including the United Nations and the State of Israel, have now honored him. ( His postage stamp will be out in
2006).

Merry and Happy and all that Holiday JOY!!!!

I had a wonderful Hanukkah and a nice Christmas as well. We spent Christmas with Jedi’s family on the east coast. Since he parents are divorced we split our time between Virginia, where his dad and step-mom live and Maryland, where his mother, her boyfriend, and Jedi’s Nanny and Papa live. The weather was overcast, but not too cold which was a nice change from the snow I was dreading.

At his father’s place we got to see their pet rooster, Cluck. He was there during a past visit, but had yet to be adopted by Jedi’s dad and step-mom. Now he’s a full fledged member of the family, getting up early to eat a smorgasbord of insects that inhabit the large plot of land where he lives. When Cluck first arrived he was a mess, he looked to have been in a cock fight since he was missing most of his tail feathers and had scabs on his breast from multiple injuries. He looks much better now, his tail feathers are filling in and except for a few hot-spots on his wings his coat is nice and shiny.

Thankfully this year the weather was very mild for an east coast winter and I made do by removing my insulated liner from my ski jacket and just used the outer shell as a wind breaker. No crabs to pick this time either over upteen million glasses of Yuengling beer. Strangeley enough I think that after having jumbo sized blue crabs in Ocean City, MD this summer that I am spoiled by their shear size and sweet tastey meat and would have a difficult time settling for the mediums.

I got some great gifts from Jedi, my family, his family and some of my friends too, my two favorite gifts being boardgames, Scrabble Deluxe Edition and 80s Trivial Pursuit (VERY FUN). My sister sent me some beautiful earrings and I received one of a kind glass earring and necklace from my best friend, her husband, and their adorable little boy who I sometimes baby-sit for. I have a scandalous amount of gift cards for everything from Starbuck’s to Barnes and Noble (those won’t last long). I hope you, dear reader, also had a memorable holiday season filled with love, health, and happiness.

Book Review: Depraved by Harold Schechter

In this tour de force book chronicling the devilish actions of turn of the century serial murderer and con-man H.H. Holmes we find out not only about his devious deeds, but the brilliant mind that was able to juggle so many scams before he was caught. Reading about Holmes reminds me a lot of the charming depravity of Ted Bundy. Both were selfish, self-serving psychopaths who are unable to empathize with their victims.

The earlier part of the book is far more fascinating then the end since it deals with Holmes’ crimes and his co-ordination of many wives and mistresses. He appears to have been an irresistibly attractive catch for any woman of the era. He had many properties including his architectural monstrosity called the Castle, he marketed his own natural remedies from his own pharmacy, and appeared to be a self-made man. The later part of the novel talks about when Holmes is finally brought to justice (after many murders and other conspiracies for personal gain). I admit that the courtroom drama in this section read rather dryly (the only exception being when Holmes tries to represent himself in court a la Bundy, very interesting).

This is my first reading of a book by Schechter, who is a prolific true crime writer. I also have his novel, Deranged, which tells the horrifying story of Albert Fish, a fiend of monstrous proportions. I’ll be reading that after finishing the 4th Dark Tower book by Stephen King, Wizard and Glass (these books just keep getting better and better-major kudos to Mr. King).

angry Angry ANGRY!!!!!

I just scrapped up the right rear quarter panel and door of my car because some idiot was taking up my lane when I turned the corner in the below-ground parking garage at my work. If I hadn't cut the turn sharply he would have hit me head-on. I am thankful, of course, that no one was hurt, but ticked that the guy driving merely looked at me shrugging sheepishly before driving off while I had to put my car in park with the hazards on and get out to look at the damage. Oh, well, I just have to think G-d will address this little faux pas with him in the future.

It just makes me so mad because this was obviously a preventable incident. All it would have taken is someone driving slower and paying a bit of attention. I guess having this happen on top of someone vandalizing my car last year by carving the "F" word into the driver's side quarter panel in 8 inch high letters makes my car look terrible. On the bright side, the car is paid off and runs fairly well...so I guess the glass is half full...

Most of all I wish you Love

My love for my boyfriend grows, day by day, month by month, and year by year.

Who taught me about love?

About the breadth and depth you can feel for someone else? About experiencing yourself through their reactions and interactions with you? About finding peace and solace in another, a brief respite from solitude, a friend to be depended on, a hand to hold.

It is my grandparents and parents I think of when I think of love. Both my mother’s parents and my father’s parents were married for many decades and seemed to have great respect and admiration for their partners. Having experienced the atrocities of WWII probably made them grateful to be able to spend time with loved ones, to be able to see them safe and alive in the United States. They were also incredibly brave for bringing children up during uncertain times. Having experienced two world wars is enough to make a person weary and frightened of the future. In a world where the holocaust destroyed millions, people were still showing their hope and belief in the human race. Having children is to me the most personal and concrete form of hope that a person can express. It is their way of contributing to a better future, their way of saying that through all of our actions, together we can make a difference.

Love is a difficult word to define. In the dictionary love the noun is defined 28 different ways. I’m not so sure I could do much better then that. Mostly what I have learned and tried to personify is the idea that love leaves room for errors, mistakes, imperfection, love is not about judging, but more about accepting, supporting and encouraging. I want my boyfriend to be the best person he can be, I also want to help him explore his thoughts and feels and find different interests and new goals to set and achieve. My love should have elements of patience (an uphill battle for me always), persistence, a humongous sense of humor, thoughtfulness, kindness, and compassion. I want to be my boyfriend’s best friend, I want to be his safe place to be vulnerable, I want to be the person he shares laughter and tears with. It’s a tall order being in love with someone. I am so grateful that I know what love can be.