Maggie jumps!

Tidbit

2008-03-21T02:15:00.001-05:00

While snuggling with Jason:

ME: Mmmm. You smell good ... for a change.

JASON: You still don't.

I love starting new blogs

2008-03-05T02:25:00.004-05:00

I've been 10 kinds of domestic ever since I became vegan -- cooking, baking, creating elaborate TV show-themed cakes. I might even vacuum one of these days.

And I've been documenting it all on my new blog.

Here's a little teaser.

Check it out here.

Blackhead

2008-02-24T03:55:00.003-05:00

Now I have black hair.

BEFORE:

AFTER:

A sentence I never thought I would receive in an e-mail

2008-02-22T11:20:00.001-05:00

Lisa Lisa (of the Cult Jam) will be calling you Tuesday at 1 p.m.

Photo challenge: Shoot into the sun

2008-02-19T20:42:00.002-05:00

This weekend found me in Amboy, Calif., a onetime bustling stop on Route 66. Now it's a tiny town with a population of five, and it's one of my favorite places on earth.

In Amboy, you can find a huge field of glass bottles that glitter like gemstones:

In Amboy, there's a random tree in the middle of the desert that is filled with shoes:

In Amboy, you can hike to the center of a 10,000 year old volcano:

And then you leave Amboy, driving a zillion miles an hour on empty desert roads, past fields of salt that reflect the colors of the sunset:

Let him eat cake

2008-02-13T02:30:00.002-05:00

I'm making a "Lost"-themed cake for Jason's birthday.

It's his favorite show, and I'v never seen it before, so this should be interesting.

The only thing is that I'm a total noob when it comes to cake-decorating skillz. I don't know how to make a tiny Hurley or a polar bear or a smoke monster or even palm trees. I've been wandering the baking and candy aisles of all the local grocery stores, looking for inspiration and finding nothing.

Any ideas?

Oh, and it all has to be vegan.

I'm thinking that I should sculpt the characters out of clay and just stick 'em on the cake, because I don't know enough about marzipan to work with it. As for the island, I guess I'll just use green and brown icing. And if I make a really fluffy frosting, I might be able to make ocean waves.

"Down there"

2008-02-01T12:02:00.000-05:00

I had a well woman exam yesterday with a new doctor.

It really doesn't inspire a lot of confidence when your gynecologist keeps referring to that part of the body as "down there."

Partied out

2008-01-20T18:08:00.000-05:00

A week of parties has finally come to an end, and I am severely beat down.

(I know, I know. Sometimes my job is so rough.)

There's no way to recap everything -- hell, I don't necessarily remember everything -- so here are a few little tidbits instead:

* Alice Cooper was the very first person at the first party on Wednesday night. He sat by himself and nursed a Diet Coke. Seriously. Alice Freaking Cooper drinks diet soda and is punctual as all get out.

* From where I was standing on the cigar patio, you could see inside the club, and it was a clear view of a girl writhing around in a gold bikini on a stripper pole. Jimmy Fallon joked, "I TOLD my daughter to stay off the pole."

* Later I offered my beautiful leopard print heels to Jimmy in an effort to get him up on the pole. "Ew," he said. "Then your shoes might get herpes. There's not enough anti-bacterial gel in the world for that pole."

* He eventually jumped on stage to do a couple cover songs with the band. "Beast of Burden" and "You Really Got Me." I have to say, watching a sweet little hipster guy sing the Stones is pretty endearing.

* Golfer Robert Gamez said I'm pretty. Which automatically makes him my favorite guy on the PGA tour.

* Samuel L. Jackson is a fine dancer. We did a little spin on the dance floor during a disco song. I think it was "I'm Your Boogie Man."

* I told Taylor Hicks that I voted for him on "American Idol." But you know what? I lied. I didn't vote at all.

* A woman who was stalking comedian George Lopez was carried out of the VIP section by police, then taken away in a cruiser. She howled her face off the entire time.

* Former NFL player Sterling Sharpe lurved me. He kept saying, "Dang, girl. Let me look at your legs. How did you get legs like that?" (Uh, hiking?)

* Surfer Kelly Slater? Even hotter in person.

* I made good friends with a professional Cuban cigar roller from Miami. Which means that if I ever return to Florida, I will never want for a place to stay, Cuban food or fine tobacco.

* Some drunk girl was all belligerent around chef Ming Tsai and got all up in his face and was like, "Yeah, I cook too."
And that girl might have been me.

Turning Vegan

2008-01-17T11:47:00.000-05:00

We're going vegan.

Slowly.

I don't want to make it an overnight thing, because I've done that before and it sucks.

But I realized that for all the cooking that I do and all the food I eat, there aren't enough vegetables in there. Eating vegan is a way for me to be mindful about getting more produce into my diet.

Plus, I was feeling heavy and bloated. Something just felt off inside. And when I thought back about the moments in my life when I looked and felt best, it was always when I was vegan.

This time around, I'm armed with "Veganomicon," one of the greatest vegan cookbooks I've ever seen. I've had the book just a few days, and I've already made six of the recipes. Each one has been fabulous. Even my omnivore friends have loved everything, from the potato kale enchiladas to the corn chowder.

Winter wonderland

2007-12-11T19:38:00.000-05:00

Driving to a Christmas party ...

JASON: Brrrr! It's cold.

MAGGIE: (Huddled in a thick wool sweater with a scarf wrapped around face) Indeed.

JASON: What is it? Like 60 degrees?

MAGGIE: (Muffled by scarf) Fifty-eight.

JASON: Fifty-freaking-eight? BRRRRR. I hope this isn't an indication of the kind of winter we have in store for us. Because I say no thank you to that kind of weather. Do you think the whole winter will be this cold? I hate knowing that winter is coming.

MAGGIE: Baby, it's December. It's already winter.

JASON: (Cranking up heat in car.) So it is.

Happy Cat-mas

2007-12-10T18:37:00.000-05:00

Here's why it's impossible to wrap gifts at my house:

Celebrate your own wisdom

2007-12-09T01:57:00.000-05:00

Happy Bodhi Day! Today honors the day Buddha achieved enlightenment and gained the knowledge upon which Buddhism is founded.

I would like to celebrate. I would be up at the Zen center in a heartbeat if I could. But I have other obligations -- I'm watching Deanna's band perform in the early afternoon. Then I'm working late tomorrow night, covering the Queens of the Stone Age/Eagles of Death Metal hometown show. (Not that I'm complaining about that, because it's going to be rad.)

Instead, Jason and I are spending a quiet night at home. I wrapped a big stack of Christmas presents and addressed a bunch of cards. I'll probably have some cocoa before meditation and bed.

Here are some ways to cultivate Zen in your own life, taken from "Awakening The Buddha Within" by Lama Surya Das:

Pray
Meditate
Be aware/stay awake
Bow
Practice yoga
Feel
Chant and sing
Breathe and smile
Relax/Enjoy/Laugh/Play
Create/Envision
Let Go/Forgive/Accept
Walk/Exercise/Move
Work/Serve/Contribute
Listen/Learn/Enquire
Consider/Reflect
Cultivate oneself/Enhance competencies
Cultivate contentment
Cultivate flexibility
Cultivate friendship and collaboration
Lighten up
Celebrate and appreciate
Dream
Give thanks
Evolve
Love
Share/Give/Receive
Walk softly/Live gently
Expand/Radiate/Dissolve
Simplify
Surrender/Trust
Be born anew

****

One of his students asked Buddha, "Are you the messiah?"
"No", answered Buddha.
"Then are you a healer?"
"No", Buddha replied.
"Then are you a teacher?" the student persisted.
"No, I am not a teacher."
"Then what are you?" asked the student, exasperated.
"I am awake", Buddha replied.

Writing Out of Bounds

2007-12-07T19:25:00.000-05:00

What am I, crazy?

Yes indeed. Because now that the novel is done, I'm about to tackle another big writing project.

My friend and I are pairing up to write a screenplay about our time in Zanesville, Ohio. It'll be a tragic comedy, I'm guessing.

Holiday jeer

2007-12-05T11:47:00.001-05:00

I was all in the holiday spirit last night, making some gifts, putting some ornaments on the tree, decking the halls, fa la la la and all that. And I roasted chestnuts, prompting The Boyfriend to croon, "Chestnuuuuts roasting in a dirty oven ..."

I pulled the chestnuts out of the oven and set them down to cool. Then I leaned over the baking sheet and inhaled deeply the musky scent of fresh-roasted nuts.

BANG!
"OW!"
"What happened?" The Boyfriend ran into the room.
"My eye! My eye!" I clutched my face, my eye red and swollen.
"Holy Red Ryder BB Gun! What did you do?"
"The nut exploded in my eye!"
"Huh?"
"The chestnut. It exploded and the nut shrapnel hit my eye!"
"Hee hee."

Later, I cleaned chestnut off the ceiling, chestnut off the floor, chestnut off every damn surface in the kitchen, the whole time muttering, "Well, f#$& you too, Christmas."

Art: The San Francisco Treat

2007-12-05T02:12:00.000-05:00

San Francisco is art. That's all there is to it.

Of course there are the public art pieces, like these beautiful sculptures:

But everywhere you go, you stumble all over the little things ... sometimes literally:

And around every corner is something beautiful and unexpected. I found this mural down an alley in Chinatown. I actually thought the silly string made it more striking:

The street art makes rainbows in otherwise gritty neighborhoods:

By far the most stunning neighborhood was the Mission District, a quirky place full of taquerias, bookstores, a pirate shop and strong coffee (At one little cafe, I had the "Heart Attack," which was shots of espresso combined with heavy-duty brewed coffee).

Maybe it's the coffee that inspired lovely pieces like these.

Phenomenal, right? Or maybe I'm just starved for authentic street art, since I live in an area where public art is commissioned by the city for hundreds of thousands of dollars. (Not that the expensive pieces are any less beautiful. But some of them lack heart.)

These works in the Mission particularly moved me:

Even the city buildings are covered in paint. Here's the community pool, first from the front, then around the corner and down 20th Street:

The Women's Building was every bit as FANTASTIC as I had heard. From every side, every angle, every inch of it was magical. I couldn't shoot it all:

But my favorite piece in the whole neighborhood was this, a random treasure that was found as we were parking the car:

So much loveliness.

San Francisco: Yay!

2007-12-03T00:52:00.000-05:00

Jason and I left my brother's house and headed directly to the Ferry Marketplace in San Francisco. We were coming off of two days of bland food, and my taste buds were craving flavor.

Lucky for me, the farmers market was having a fungus festival and most every restaurant and stand had a dish showcasing wild mushrooms in one way or another. Directly inside the entrance there was a table full of tiny cheesecake bites made out of a candy cap mushrooms. Across the hall was a table of fresh linguine sauteed with morels. And it just got better and better from there. I nearly wept.

We ate our way through the place. First was bento from the Japanese deli, with tiny friend dumplings, white rice, sweet seaweed salad and thick slices of crisp lotus root. The place was crowded and there weren't any seats left, so we sat on a park bench overlooking the bay, next to a fantastic street musician playing the clarinet. Perfection.

Next up we sampled oysters from Hog Island Oyster Company. We filled them full of freshly grated horseradish and sucked them down.

The line finally dwindled at Traci des Jardins' place, Mijita cocina Mexicana. Earlier in the day the wait had been hours. We got there when it was down to just a few minutes. We had tiny tacos on fresh corn tortillas, topped with a cascade of finely chopped onion and cilantro.

I also had a jicama salad, which was fresh and lively and one of the very best things I've ever eaten -- and it was simply matchsticks of jicama, ruby red grapefruit, avocado and pepitas.

We left with sacks full of goodies -- fig balsamic vinegar from Lulu Petite, a bag of dark chocolates from Scharffen Berger, baguettes from Acme Bread Company, creamy Mt. Tam cheese from Cowgirl Creamery ... it was a ridiculous haul of goodness.

Next stop was our hotel, which was on the border of Union Square and the Tenderloin. Seriously. Half a block one way would get you to Macy's and Saks and other shopping. Half a block the other way would get you some crack.

That said, I loved our hotel. All the floors were decorated according to the elements. We were on floor Earth. There was also a fab meditation room, which was the best possible perk they could have given me.

We did some shopping, followed up by dinner with the wonderful Trish and her equally wonderful boyfriend. We went an organic soul food restaurant, which made my Southern-born heart swell with happiness. I created a dish entirely out of sides, since that's the good stuff anyway. Tiny corn muffins, mac and cheese, collard greens, plus a roasted beet and apple salad, all washed down with mint juleps and huckleberry margaritas. (No photos of dinner. Sorry. But here's shopping.)

The next morning I was really excited to take Jason to Chinatown for traditional dim sum, which he had never had before. Chinatown is great, especially when all the places are just opening. It's an assault on the senses, with the food vapors leaking into the streets, the rattle of metal doors swinging open, a lot of shouting in Chinese.

Dim sum was excellent, although I think Jason was a little overwhelmed. The room was filled wall to wall with about 200 Chinese people; I was the only white person in the place. It was crazy loud, with the metal carts rattling past with food every few seconds and screaming and words tumbling forth that I don't entirely understand.

I took on the role of hunter/gatherer, grabbing the carts and selecting steaming baskets of food for us, while Jason just ate and enjoyed.

We tried to walk off brunch while searching for the fortune cookie factory that I've always wanted to tour but was never able to find before. And success! It's just a teensy place, so there's not much to tour exactly. But it was amazing to see the hot cookie batter get pressed flat on the griddle machine, then stuffed with fortunes and shaped on a metal bar.

I never really thought about how fortune cookies took shape before. I guess I thought a machine did it. But it's actually incredibly fast and talented workers, like this woman:

Then it was off to Japantown for shopping and even more eating. Jason also managed to find this really rare orchid he's been searching for -- it was in the smallest, most random bonsai store. I found a bookstore and picked up some manga for a friend who is really into anime, as well as some great Yoshitomo Nara prints for me.

Here's a sushi place all dressed up for Christmas:

And I'm a brave eater, but I don't know if I'm quite brave enough for this dish. Maybe if the salad actually was alive:

After Japantown, we had an all-too-brief evening in the Mission District before flying home.

Tomorrow: Murals in the Mission!

Hello, December!

2007-12-01T23:11:00.000-05:00

So now that it's December, I guess it's about time to finally post a recap about Thanksgiving weekend, huh?

Jason and I landed at the San Francisco airport at 8:30 a.m. We were really nervous about travel on Thanksgiving, especially with all the news reports predicting a particularly bad year. But we got our bags, picked up the rental car and got out on the highway by 9:06 a.m. We didn't even hit any problems on the highway between San Francisco and Yuba City.

In fact, it went so well it was a little creepy. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it turns out there was no other shoe.

The holiday was a nice day at my brother's house, spent with his family and my father, who had flown out for a few days. Here's my pops and bro:

The fam had turkey. I brought along my own tofurkey. And the dog had fauxturkey.

The next day we made a little road trip to Lake Tahoe. Here's me:

It was be-yoo-tiful.

It was also cold, as you can see here from my niece, Alley:

At least the coffee was smiling.

Coming tomorrow: Update on San Francisco. Or, as my dad calls it, "That City Full of Freaks and Queers."

No wonder I love it so much!

I'm a novelist

2007-11-30T03:19:00.000-05:00

WOOOOO!

I did it. I'm done with National Novel Writing Month. 50,000 words in under 30 days.

I am so freaking happy right now. I really didn't know if I could do it.

But now? Now I'm a novelist.

Taking flight

2007-11-26T18:20:00.000-05:00

I'm back from Thanksgiving vacation.

It was a whirlwind trip to San Francisco, then Sacramento, then Lake Tahoe, then San Francisco and finally back to Palm Springs.

I was so happy in San Francisco, like blindingly, breathlessly happy. I'm in love with that city and in love with how it inspires me, amazes me and fills me with pure joy. It's no wonder that all the great writers, chefs and artists have lived in San Francisco. It beats with creative juices.

I almost kissed the sidewalks. And I probably would have, if it wasn't for the urine.

On a jet plane

2007-11-21T23:15:00.000-05:00

Leaving tomorrow for a Thanksgiving trip to San Francisco.

My father flew out to Northern California earlier this week, so he's already there waiting, with my brother, my sister-in-law and my three beautiful nieces.

After a couple days of hearty family time, Jason and I are spending a couple days in the city by ourselves. We're staying at the coolest hotel -- each floor is decorated like either earth, air, water or fire. There's also a meditation room, which will be so nice and calming after an especially hectic week. (Isn't that a fabulous idea? I wish more places had a meditation room. What would the mall be like with meditation rooms? Or schools? So much nicer, I bet.)

We're also going to be eating our way around the bay. Dim sum for brunch, oysters at the marketplace for lunch, organic soul food for dinner, plus huckleberry margaritas, pear sidecars and saki martinis. Lovely.

Oh, and there's this candy store in Japantown that we discovered during our last trip into the city. They sell these amazing chocolate-filled marshmallows -- and I don't even like marshmallows, if that tells you anything about how good they are. I'm totally going to stock up on those.

While we're gone, our wonderfully kind neighbors, Chris and Jeff, will be taking care of the cat and checking in on the house.

I'm thankful for so many things.

A new perspective

2007-11-15T23:12:00.000-05:00

I'm working on a long-term project about a local family and I'm spending a lot of time inside their home.

Today they showed me freshly-developed photographs that the 3-year-old snapped with a disposable camera.

They were marvelous, the whole world as seen through the eyes of a child. Most of the shots were of kneecaps or shoes. One was a crotch shot in a highchair. Another was a picture of mom driving, taken from the backseat of the car.

When I was little, I used to hang upside-down off the couch or bed, just to change my point of view. I used to wonder what it would be like to be big. Now sometimes I forget what it feels like to be small.

Southern Hospitality

2007-11-09T02:30:00.000-05:00

Marilyn and I were in the lobby of our hotel in Memphis. We had already called three cab companies, and even though each one of them assured us they would be there, after 45 minutes we were still waiting and waiting ...

Finally the hotel receptionist said, "Y'all still waiting?"

"Yes."

"Hold on. I'll get you someone."

About five minutes later, she surfaced with the maintenance man.

"This is Mitchell," she said. "He's gonna drop you off."

Mitchell walked ahead to his car to clean out the back seat.

Marilyn, who hails from San Francisco, hissed at me, "I don't know about this. Getting into a car with a strange man ... it just feels weird."

"It's OK, sweetie," I said. "This is the South,"

Spoooooky ...

2007-10-29T15:34:00.000-05:00

I made about four batches of these cookies and took them to many parties over the weekend:

(Clicky to see big.)

One woman squealed, "Oooh, for Halloween!"

Uh, no.

I don't know what her household is like, but we eat creepy finger cookies year-round.

Kitty Kitty Bang Bang

2007-10-26T18:54:00.000-05:00

This morning I was getting ready for work and rushing around the bathroom and doing whatever and turned around quickly and WHAM! I punched my cat.

See, I didn't notice when he jumped on the counter, and I accidentally hit him right in the kisser.

He looked at me, all sad and hurt-like before running away. But I was already late. And I didn't have time to play the role of inadvertantly abusive cat mama.

"Oh, you're fine," I said in the general direction of where the cat ran. "Don't be such a baby."

Just as I was about to leave, the cat slunk out of his hiding place and walked around my feet. When he looked up, his nose was noticeably red. Like, Rudolph red.

"Ack! You're bleeding! Help! What happened? Did you do this? Or did I do this? You know I love you, baby, right? I would never hurt you."

My cat does not yet know how to talk, and so he did not answer.

I cleaned him up, left for work and sent a message to my boyfriend about the bloody cat nose and how I unintentionally became Ike Turner.

And because I knew the boyfriend was stopping by the vet this afternoon for Ridiculously Expensive Organic Prescription Cat Food Made of Gold, I asked if he could get the vet's opinion on the bloody nose. Oh, and maybe see what he says about the tooth the cat chipped a month ago. And find out about the missing patch of fur too.

So the boyfriend called me after the vet.

ME: Did you ask him about the tooth?

HE: Yeah, he said it was no big deal.

ME: And the fur?

HE: It's fine.

ME: What about the bloody nose?

HE: Basically, the vet just said you need to stop beating up the cat.

Photo Friday

2007-10-26T17:52:00.000-05:00

This week's challenge: Silence.

This was taken after last year's wildfire in Pioneertown.

The atmosphere was otherworldly, with an eerie sepia glow. The ground was charred black. Hills continued to smoulder in the distance.

At the time I took the photo, nobody but the media was allowed into the area. The place felt dead and desolate. No people. No wind. Not even birds.

The air was drenched in loss. It filled your lungs with the kind of desperation that gnaws at your bones. I couldn't even cry.

Right now I feel for the residents of my state who are dealing with this. My heart aches for you.

That was fast!

2007-10-25T09:24:00.000-05:00

I ordered my new laptop yesterday morning and just received notice that it should be delivered today.

That Steve Jobs knows how to get shit done.

Photo Friday

2007-10-19T19:35:00.000-05:00

This week's challenge: The city

Here's Cincinnati, taken when I was back home this summer.

I love how those two businessmen look all suity and serious, even though it was a sunny August afternoon.

We don't get much of that in the desert.

Word Factory

2007-10-16T17:58:00.000-05:00

It's NaNoWriMo time again!

And you know what that means.

It means I'll be trying to juggle a career, a household, two new TV shows and a personal life -- all while writing a 50,000-word novel in a month.

This year I'm much more prepared than in previous NaNoWriMos. I've started making an outline. I've created iTunes playlists of writing music. I even have some friends who will be doing it with me, and we're going to try to be each other's support system.

Besides, it's November. This writing thing is a great antidote to all the parties and festivities of October. I need to turn inward for a while; take a step back.

So I'll be making lots of chili and tea, lighting candles and curling up with my new laptop. Just me and my brand-new, shitty novel-in-progress.

Anyone else writing this month? What are you working on?

Self-absorbed diva

2007-09-23T03:36:00.001-05:00

Of course I caanot be expected to update my blog on a regular basis, what with the parties and the wine dinners and my appearance as a model in a drag queen fashion show.

Forgive me. I'll be back soon.

This is Cracker soul

2007-09-07T17:22:00.000-05:00

I've been going out too much lately. Too many of my dinners have been served on toothpicks or cocktail napkins. Too many nights have been filled with schmoozing instead of sleep. Too many of my drinks cost $15 each.

My business card case is empty, my place is a mess, and my cat treats me like a stranger.

Thank goodness this weekend is the Cracker/Camper Van Beethoven campout in Pioneertown.

First off, I love Pioneertown. It's a very genuine place. I feel settled there, like everything that's restless and fidgety inside me finally finds peace. It takes a weight off my shoulders, and I can breathe easier.

Last year, when the wildfires ripped through the town, I think my heart got a little bit scorched too. It was devastating. I would sit on my patio and watch the curtain of fire drape over the mountainside, and it felt like splinters were piercing my gut.

Thankfully, all the old Western movie sets were spared. They make up Mane Street, the heart of town.

Pioneertown also has this grand musical tradition. Pappy & Harriet's Pioneertown Palace takes their music almost as seriously as their chili -- which is pretty damn serious. Go to the bar on any random night and you could catch anyone from Jon Spencer Blues Explosion to some local goth country metal band. One night Robert Plant stopped by and played a Sunday night jam session.

The band Cracker recorded their "Kerosene Hat" album in Pioneertown's old movie sound stage, so they have a deep love for the place also.

They put on this annual campout where they play, along with a reunion of Camper Van Beethoven and some of their musical buddies. Ticket prices are low, the beer is cheap, and everybody is welcome to bootleg the show. Just bring a tent, and crash when you're ready to pass out. Or, stay up late and bring your instruments for the jam session on the patio that lasts until the wee hours of the morning.

I need this weekend. I need a weekend of denim and liquor served in mason jars and sincere music performed under a wide sky.

Laboriffic!

2007-09-05T17:16:00.000-05:00

Labor Day parties are exhausting.

I had planned to stop by Shauna's house for an hour ... and ended up staying 10.

When I came home, the conversation went like this:

JASON: Wow. You're drunk.

ME: I did not have any tequila shots.

JASON: Huh? What does that have to do with anything? You're still drunk.

ME: I'm just saying, I could have been drunker.

Nice logic.

Orchid, schmorchid

2007-09-04T02:57:00.000-05:00

I just came home from a party, where I've been for the past 10 hours. And I've been drinking -- so that is my excuse for what happened next ...

You know, Jason has been all into raising orchids lately, and tonight he left a couple photos on the computer for me to look at. (I could have sworn they were cymbidiums, but what do I know?)

So I jumped into bed, and Jason asked if I had seen the pictures on the monitor.

"Yes indeed," I said. "And those are some fine plimbidiums. Uh, simphlibians ... Paskidians? ... Kloskidiums?"

"Actually," he said, "Those are ladyslippers."

And you know what? If you're an orchid dork, this story is really friggin funny.

Liquid Gold

2007-08-31T18:49:00.000-05:00

MAGGIE: Is it raining? I hate rain.

LARRY: What?

MAGGIE: Rain. I hate it.

LARRY: No, no, no. You hate your rain, you hate Ohio rain. You don't hate desert rain.

MAGGIE: What's the difference?

LARRY: Desert rain is like gold, because it never happens. But Ohio rain is pretty much like pennies. It's worthless.

MAGGIE: Even if it is desert rain, it still means I'm going to get wet walking to my car. I don't even own an umbrella.

LARRY: Yeah, I have to go cover an outdoor game right now, so I'm not happy about it either.

MAGGIE: Ah-ha!

LARRY: Yes. Rain sucks.

Yes!

2007-08-29T17:44:00.000-05:00

My co-worker just shot me a mean glare and said, "You are not seriously bobbing your head to 'Owner of a Lonely Heart,' are you?"

Well, yes. In fact, I was.

But that killed my plans for air guitar.

Even More Film Fest

2007-08-28T13:20:00.001-05:00

Oh, I am so tired. Last night was the fifth night in a row of film fest parties. Afetr tonight, I'm done. I swear.

Last night I told a few people that I can't do this anymore.

"You can sleep next week!" said one of the cute filmmakers.

But that's what I told myself LAST week.

Reel Life

2007-08-24T19:10:00.001-05:00

This weekend is all about the Palm Springs International Festival of Short Films, which is one of my favorite events of the whole year.

Short Fest means I'll be watching lots and lots of movies ... about three minutes at a time. (Actually, they smoosh them together in programs of about 80 minutes each. But it makes me laugh to think of filing into a theater for a few minutes, then walking back out and doing it all over again.)

There are also a lot of post-film parties during which giddy young filmmakers get drunk and schmooze and flirt. It's really a lot of fun.

Like this morning, for instance. I was at my desk and received a 10 a.m. phone call from a bunch of directors who were hanging out by the pool at the Viceroy. "We were just wondering if we could buy you a couple drinks," said the guy on the phone. I couldn't go, but hey -- it's nice to have the offer.

In between movie programs, I'm also getting together with my friends to make gazpacho and chiles rellenos while indulging in some totally girlie TV. And possibly some homemade sangria. (We were originally thinking bloody marys, but that would be tomato overkill with the gazpacho, no?)

And, after my whirlwind trip back home, I need to actually relax -- so I'm also hoping for a little alone time. I'll probably hit the trails in the mountains and hike until everything makes sense again.

Nice Day for a White Wedding

2007-08-22T18:50:00.001-05:00

What a weekend.

We went from this ...

To hot bridesmaid on bridesmaid action ...

The photos are clicky if you want to see the rest of them. I am slowly but surely uploading them.

Actually, it was an overwhelmingly emotional trip home. I attended the funeral of a person I loved and respected. I saw my mom in the nursing home for the first time. I made friends with a charming New Yorker. I touched base with the many amazing friends and colleagues I had in Cincinnati. And I watched my best friend in the world transform from my old college buddy into a lovely, sophisticated, beautiful bride.

More later after I process everything.

In the meantime, congratualtions Shannon and Brad!

Happy birthday to me!

2007-07-29T22:50:00.000-05:00

Astrology.com:
Wanting to know the why behind something just leads to more questions, but this just stimulates your intellectual appetite even more. You won't necessarily get your knowledge the traditional way right now, either.

Horoscopes.com:
People power. To feel your best today, spend more time socializing with others. Attending a party would fit the bill perfectly! But, that's not the only solution. You can also go to any crowded public place where you can mingle with lots of people. Great day to go to a popular restaurant, movie theater or store.

Daily-horoscopes.com:
You may have some uncertainty about plans to have fun. On the job, you should take one thing at a time. Impatience could block progress. Communications that were unclear suddenly make more sense.

Creators syndicate:
TODAY'S BIRTHDAY (July 29). Though you concentrate on improving one area of your life, you're expanding in all directions this year. A bold business decision in August kicks off a wave of financial luck. Your free and easy attitude in September ensures there'll be many fun trips, dates and projects. Loving commitments are made in October. Libra and Capricorn people adore you. Your lucky numbers are: 8, 5, 38, 21 and 50.

Elle.com:
Happy Birthday, Leo! Inventive, strong, and controversial, you stand apart from the crowd. Although you have plenty of friends and admirers, your unique mind and talent make you a maverick. No matter how friendly and amiable you can be, you’re a tough-minded competitor, determined to win. You never forget the lessons learned on your way to the top - or the people who helped or hindered you. You have a gift for mimicking others, and may have an excellent speaking voice. But your body speaks volumes too. Never wanting to feel vulnerable, weak, or discounted, you take special pains to strengthen, enlarge, or otherwise make a statement via your physique. You overcome more than you care to discuss, especially during your early years. Every lesson contributes to your business savvy, people skills and insight into human nature. You may cope with anxieties, phobias or nightmares, but may delay getting help. You dislike feeling weak or defective in any way and may set impossibly high standards for yourself. Because you need to feel prepared and in control, anxieties and phobias may be particularly difficult for you to reconcile. Pragmatic and strong-willed, you are more likely to be swayed by physical proof than mere talk. If you can see, hear, touch and smell something, it’s real as far as you’re concerned. You do respond favorably to certain evocative fragrances and may benefit from soothing, sensual aromatherapy. You need to be loved, adored, and admired. Some of you find emotional sustenance in sports or entertainment occupations. Others may become captains of industry. It’s important that you have a positive, healthy outlet for your enormous stores of ambition, creativity and energy. Born today are Hillary Swank, Simon Baker, Vivica A. Fox, Tom Green, Jaime Pressley, Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger, Delta Burke, Lawrence Fishbourne, Lisa Kudrow, Peter Bogdanovich, Casey Stengel, Anita Hill, Emily Bronte, Henry Ford, Ken Olin, Henry Moore, Pat Schroeder, David Sanborn, Kate Bush, Buddy Guy, William Atherton, Edd Byrnes, Bud Selig, Robert R. McCormick, Sid Kroft, Paul Anka and Eleanor Smeal.

Cincinnati.com:
Any bright ideas you get today concerning something new you could do to your home or abode would serve like a breath of fresh air flowing in on your surroundings. Follow up on them. Although you may be placing greater emphasis than usual on your material interest today, it will be a good thing. This focus could produce impressive results.

And then this long-ass one from Cafeastrology.com:
A Full Moon in your Solar Return chart marks this as a year of great personal significance, when major new beginnings, endings, and activities occur. This period is the culmination of a stage of personal growth and development. Events at this time may bring to a head various developments in your emotional, psychological, or spiritual life over the past several years. There can be increased activity in your professional and public life, causing a conflict with your domestic and personal goals. There is little moderation in your life this year. Connections are made or ended; or your job focus may change as one focus fades to make way for a new direction. The year ahead is certain to be a very busy, dynamic, and significant period in your life.

The Sun is trine Jupiter near the time of your birthday, suggesting that you are more aware of moral issues, and have a stronger than usual desire to improve and learn this year. This is a fortunate aspect that implies optimism and confidence are with you, and you are able to attract fortunate circumstances into your life as a result. Problems are easier to resolve this year. Your social life will likely increase and bring you in contact with more influential, powerful, or simply happy and helpful people. Travel opportunities are likely. It is not uncommon to marry, have children, graduate college, increase income, do freelance work, get a promotion, publish a book, or receive public recognition under this influence. Matters related to universities, higher education, organized religion, publishing, legal affairs, and foreign interests proceed smoothly. This is an excellent year in which to seek advanced training or to further your education. Sun/Jupiter aspects often correlate with ceremonies that formally acknowledge past achievements. You are likely to enjoy good humor, optimism, and a larger perspective on matters that keeps you from getting lost in details or overly frustrated by everyday stresses and strains. With the Sun also in creative aspect to Mars, your desire nature is strong, and increased physical activity, including sexual activity, is likely. Independent work is favored. Competitive activities may also thrive this year.

Mars squares Neptune and Saturn at the time of your birthday this year, however, presenting a challenge for you in the year ahead. Saturn and Neptune's influences are contradictory. While a part of you is attempting to see things for what they are, another part is hanging onto dreams and ideals. Some disillusionments and reality shifts are bound to be a part of your life this year. Your energy levels are likely to be quite variable this year--waxing and waning in a moody fashion. You may find that is too easy to waste your time and energy, perhaps due to occasional periods when you seem to lack drive and direction. You may also experience passive-aggressiveness in others, which impacts your life in frustrating ways, or you could find relationships with others confusing and hard to define. Although you may enjoy an increase in your intuitive capabilities, you can also be too open to influence so that fears or delusions impact your ability to see your life clearly. This could also be a year when you struggle to be creative yet also reliable and organized.

Mercury trine Uranus suggests that there may be unexpected and pleasant news this year that enhances your life. You are able to find new insight into old problems, and your thinking processes during this period are likely to be especially original. This is a good year for projects involving technology or New Age topics. You may find more opportunities to attend meetings and other organized group activities, to communicate online, and to take part in activities involving computers, scientific projects, or metaphysics. Unexpected gains may be realized through such mediums. Your intuition is strong, and insights seem to come from "out of the blue". Original, creative ideas are easy to come by this year, and you communicate with a special flair.

Jupiter in creative aspect to Neptune suggests that making connections with others from a different background is likely to figure in the year ahead. Widening your mind through unusual or different experiences can be part of the picture. Generosity and compassion increases, and your faith is boosted. You more easily make personal sacrifices for what you believe to be the better good.

The year ahead is strong for learning and expanding your horizons. You are generally less affected by everyday stresses than usual, able to put things into perspective easily. You are more quick-witted than usual and brimming with ideas. Avoiding the tendency towards "pie in the sky" thinking and rebelliousness will be necessary in order to keep grounded. Impractical ventures may hold a strong lure for you, and it is best to avoid jumping into new endeavors without thinking things over first.

Photo Friday

2007-06-22T16:39:00.000-05:00

This Friday's challenge was "dream."

I don't actually dream about bowling. But I do think this ghost-like figure looks like something out of a dream.

Like a Long Empty Road Going Nowhere

2007-06-20T18:38:00.000-05:00

I stopped at home to have lunch with my boyfriend. But then there was bickering, then a full-fledged fight, and somehow I ended up curled fetal on the bed, crying until my cheeks burned.

My wishes are not wildly ridiculous. I want a house. Eventually I want a baby.

We can't afford it. And it'll be years before he is in any kind of financial position to contribute to the household.

He tells me to be patient. To give it ten years. To put things on hold for another decade.

Ten years.

Usually I'm optomistic about it. We squeeze each other tight, and I say, "At least we have each other! Nobody can take our spirit!"

But today I'm sad and depressed. I'm feeling sorry for myself. I ask him to tell me it's all going to be OK. He can't, and instead he gets mad.

It's not going to be OK. There are things out of our control. Grief, pain, legal disputes, financial and emotional bankruptcy.

I cry and cry and cry. It all looks so grim when you're seeing things with blurry eyes.

There's another piece of the puzzle, a woman out there, and not a night goes by that I don't send her compassion, grace and peace. My friends, too, have put her on prayer list after prayer list. Even 2,000 miles away, we try to envelop her with love and understanding.

And I have to choke back gulps of sadness on a day like today, when I realize that not all the light and goodness and love in the world make one bit of difference.

I could scrub my skin raw, try to peel the accident off my skin, and it's still not good enough. How do you ever detach yourself from the past? How many times can you say you're sorry? How do you move into the future from a point like this?

He holds me and his eyes are a flash flood, tears streaking down his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says. "I wish I could make it better. But I can't."

Photo Friday

2007-06-08T15:41:00.000-05:00

Today's challenge: Purity

This was actually a fitting challenge for my mood lately.

I've been doing twice daily meditation, which has helped to clear a lot of the baggage in my head, like a chalkboard being wiped clean.

I emerge pure of heart and mind.

Photo Friday

2007-06-05T12:30:00.000-05:00

Photo Friday challenge: How I see myself.

I love this photo of me. I think it's very reflective of the person I am, as well as the person I want to be -- fun, adventurous, full of life, playful, warm.

However, it's also the photo I use for my work blog, and people HATE this picture. I've gotten letters about it, phone calls, emails. Who knew a photo could promt such ire?

Most recently I got this email: "Maggie, Maggie, Maggie....love the blog ...hate the picture of you. It makes you look like Bridget Jones laid out for burial wrapped in a boa. You deserve better."

You Know You Watch Too Much Reality TV When ...

2007-05-25T01:31:00.000-05:00

You dream that Jordin won "American Idol" AND "Shear Genius."

Spring

2007-05-16T15:15:00.000-05:00

The cherry blossoms were blooming all over the place when Jason and I were in San Francisco:

It was only a few months ago when I began dreaming about cherry blossoms. Some nights it felt like they filled every space in my head with pink and sweetness.

The dreams came during a time of struggle, when I was feeling particularly unsure about my future and my place in the world.

Later, I consulted a dream interpreter.

The blossoms predict springtime and are a symbol of luck and good fortune.

It has to be one of those chicken/egg things. Ever since I dreamt of cherry blossoms, spring is everywhere in my life -- and I don't know if the good fortune came to me or if I created it from within myself.

Photo Friday

2007-05-11T19:07:00.001-05:00

Picture for Photo Friday challenge -- "Amber."

This is Big Sur at sunset.

My Sunday night

2007-05-03T17:29:00.000-05:00

Afterward was Rage Against the Machine, Spank Rock and about five minutes of The Lemonheads.

And before that was Mika, Lupe Fiasco, The Feeling, Explosions in the Sky, The Roots, Kaiser Chiefs, Willie Nelson, Amos Lee and Lily Allen.

I love Coachella.

Friday Boredom

2007-04-27T14:45:00.000-05:00

I'm just sitting around the house, wasting time until I leave for Coachella. Hence, the cat photos.

One hour to go.

I. Can't. Wait.

This is like Christmas. But with better music. And beer.

On today's lineup: Bjork, Jesus & Mary Chain, Amy Winehouse, Nickel Creek, Interpol, Jarvis Cocker, Arctic Monkeys, DJ Shadow, Sonic Youth.

And tomorrow, Arcade Fire (said in hushed, reverent tone).

I could weep with joy.

Inside Weirdness

2007-04-25T01:43:00.000-05:00

I don't know what I was dreaming about, but in the middle of the night I scribbled this into my notebook:

"When the simple act of cutting cheese turns into something of lustiness."

Neverending Grocery List

2007-04-24T18:36:00.000-05:00

I just called Jason before he went to Trader Joe's, and we had one of the most annoying exchanges ever:

-- When you go to the grocery store, I need you to pick up limes and tomatoes and ... ???

-- There was something else.

-- Yeah, but I can't remember what it was.

-- Me neither.

-- I know there was something else.

-- But I can't remember what it was.

-- Me neither.

-- Tomatoes and limes and what else?

-- I can't remember.

-- Me neither.

-- What was it?

-- I can't remember.

-- Me neither.

-- This conversation is going to be like "The Song That Never Ends," huh?

Wish Jar

2007-04-20T16:24:00.000-05:00

Last night at the art museum, I met a man.

He said he spent a whole year collecting something for the woman he loves.

Wishbones. A whole jar full of them. Maybe 40 or 50, he said.

On Valentine's Day, he showed up for dinner at the restaurant, his wishbone jar under his arm. He waited and waited. She didn't show up.

He untied the ribbon to open the jar and plucked out one of the bones. He broke it in half and made his wish.

He wished for her to show up. But she never did.

When he got home, a voicemail was waiting on his machine that said she never wanted to see him again.

He still has the wishbones, he said, because you never know when you need a jar of wishes.

And Ohio is Full of Buck's Eyes

2007-04-07T01:44:00.001-05:00

Today I had someone ask me if the grass in Kentucky is really blue.

10 Things

2007-04-06T13:12:00.000-05:00

Ten Wonderful Things About Today:

1. WHEE! Last day of work before vacation!!!

2. Lunch with a millionaire. Now, I am not a millionaire.) In fact, because I wrote a check to the federal government today for my taxes, I'm farther away from being a millionaire than usual.) But at least I can eat like one.

3. Weather. It's 90 degrees and sunny. And it has been all week.

4. Inspiration. I received a gorgeous zine in the mail from the always fabulous Jen Lemen. She motivates me to create my own art.

5. Song of the open road. I'm about to embark on a road trip along the Pacific Coast Highway, considered to be the most beautiful drive anywhere in the country. And I have 4G in memory cards for my camera.

6. Fun. It's White Party weekend! And that means gay boys, techno and fun all over Palm Springs. Right now everyone in town has better abs than I do.

7. Anticipation. I made a big stack of photo/collage cards and mailed them today to many of the people I love. I can't wait for them to receive them.

8. Little gifts. Yesterday I spent an hour or so wandering the bookstore, looking for the perfect novel to bring along on the road trip. I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for, and I left empty-handed. Then last night, as I was pulling luggage from the closet, I found this anthology of nonrequired reading. I had totally forgotten about it, and it's the PERFECT thing to drag from car to campsite to city hotel!

9. Kindness. This morning, Jason carefully placed my robe in the bathroom, so it would be ready as soon as I got out of the shower. Then he helped me make breakfast and coffee. It's those little things I love most of all.

10. Friends. Laura gave me a Starbucks card and tiny bottles of Bailey's. Kathy gave me a book she wrote about driving the Pacific coast. Jeff and Chris offered to catsit and bring in the mail. Life coach Leslie gave me warm words to travel with. Other friends have gifted me with the most beautiful emails before my departure.

I feel rich.

Best. Appetizer. Ever.

2007-04-06T12:12:00.000-05:00

I'm doing a story about appetizers, so I got to sample a bunch of goodies all over the valley this week.

But it wasn't until last night that I found heaven.

It's a hollowed-out grapefruit with big chunks of the fruit mixed with raw salmon, scallops, king crab and tuna, covered in a light and delicate citrus sauce.

Oh, yum.

Awwww.

2007-04-04T15:31:00.000-05:00

This little Maggie loves chocolate salty balls.

Make your own South Park character here!

In the Spirit

2007-04-04T10:04:00.000-05:00

We've been trying to make plans for our upcoming road trip to Big Sur.

There's this one place where I really want to stay -- all the reviews say it's a secluded, magical, wonderful place.

But there's a catch. There's just one room in our price range available on the day we're going to be there ... and it comes with a ghost.

JASON: Absolutely not.

ME: But what if it's a friendly ghost? What if it's Casper?

JASON: No.

ME: They didn't say what kind of ghost it is. What if it's a puppy ghost?

JASON: A puppy ghost?

ME: Yes! Like a sweet, cute puppy. But a ghost.

JASON: Well ... I guess that might be OK. Except you would be all, "Isn't he cute? I want a puppy ghost."

ME: I'd say, "He followed me home. Can I keep him?"

JASON: The cat isn't going to like this one bit.

Creating Kindness

2007-04-03T17:42:00.000-05:00

Listening: Arcade Fire "Neon Bible." When I got my first copy of "Funeral" from Eileen, it took me about 10 tries to really get this band. Now I'm hooked. Their songs are so lush, complex and orchestral, I find something new in them on each listen. No other band can speak to me, lift me up, exhaust me, the same way they can.

Reading: Freakonomics for my book club. Also Ask and It is Given, a recommendation from my opera teacher, and Everyday Matters, a recommendation of my artist's group.

Thinking: My head hurts. There's been a serious lack of caffeine today. And now it's so late in the afetrnoon that I shouldn't even start.

Plans: Making steamed mussels in white wine for dinner. This is the first quiet night at home in a while. Maybe I'll light candles.

Happiness: I'm so happy my sister and I are on good terms again. We never had a huge blowout fight or anything -- there was just this underlying current of discord. But then I created this little book of drawings and collages and stickers. I wrote out exactly how I felt, how much I missed having my big sis in my life, how much I love her. And it worked, just like magic.

Since then, some of my friends have joked that I should collage for world peace.

But you know, I wonder if they're right.

I've been creating a lot of art lately. I've been sending out homemade cards and making little drawings for people and giving friends some of my framed photographs. And it makes people SO HAPPY to receive something unique and original and pasted together with love.

My friend Margot wrote a poem about me, and it fills me with complete joy to even think about it.

I wonder what tomorrow would be like if everyone sent a handwritten note or drew a picture or gave someone a poem. Let's try it.

"This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness."
-The Dalai Lama

Apology

2007-04-02T19:00:00.000-05:00

I don't know why I've been MIA lately.

It's not that I don't have anything to write about. I do. My handwritten journals are filling up like crazy. I'm like a spigot that won't shut off.

And it's not that things aren't happening. They are. There's the wedding and the road trip and my job and Jason going back to school and all kinds of other stuff.

It's also season right now, so there are 10 things to choose from every night -- and if I'm not covering the events, I'm out socializing and networking and meeting people and going to new places ... and it's exhausting, really.

And best of all, I have beautiful things to share. My career is starting to head in the direction of my dreams. I'm finally coming to terms with my mother in the nursing home. My sister and I have become friends again. My artwork is actually beginning to sell. My friends are among the brightest and most exciting, wonderful people in the world.

I've plucked and weeded and pruned, and everything feels good and right.

I just haven't been able to share all of it out loud yet.

Sorry.

Mean Kitties Win

2007-03-06T17:34:00.000-05:00

I posted the videos of Kung Pao Kitten to YouTube at the exact same time.

Here are the amount of page views, as of right now:

Sweet Kitty -- 44

Mean Kitty -- 4,446

Draw your own conclusions.

Pee Happens

2007-03-01T03:28:00.001-05:00

I'm back from Florida!

My first day there was beach perfection. Jamie and I relaxed on the sand, read a little bit, dozed off in the sun. And then ... I had to pee.

I asked the nice lady at the lifeguard station if there were public restrooms on the beach. She pointed to another lifeguard hut in the distance and said it's near that. I walked and walked through the sand, making the journey in just my bikini and flip-flops, and couldn't find a restroom anywhere.

An old man was walking the same direction as me, so I stopped him and asked if he knew of any nearby restroom.

He pointed straight ahead.

"It's a couple blocks that way, then you'll see it."

I walked a couple blocks and saw no sign of a restroom.

The guy was still walking my direction, so I stopped him again.

"Keep going," he said. "You'll see it."

I continued walking. But after a bit, my flesh was burning in the sun, I needed water, and I was very far away from where I had started. Oh, and I still had to pee.

"Where the heck is this restroom?" I said to the guy.

"Keep walking about 10 or 15 more minutes, then you'll come to a restaurant and you can use their bathroom."

Dude, no. I was in a sweaty bikini. I wasn't about to walk through some random restaurant while people were having lunch.

So ... welcome to my toilet:

It was my first time peeing in the ocean, and I was a little nervous and disturbed by it, but I'm told people do it all the time.

A couple of my friends tried to explain that the ocean is nature's bathroom.

"Whales poop there,' they said.

Yeah. But whales don't have any other options.

Welcome to the Internets!

2007-02-23T01:16:00.000-05:00

To the people in La Quinta, Calif. who google this blog every day:

You should really bookmark the page.

XOXO,
Maggie

Leaving

2007-02-21T02:18:00.000-05:00

I'm trading in these palm trees for some other ones.

I leave tomorrow afternoon to visit my best friend, who lives in Miami. Our plans include deep-sea fishing near Key Largo, rugby, several parties, beach, sun, fun, food ...

So yeah. I expect plenty of stories, photos and trouble.

My, That Must Hurt

2007-02-20T03:34:00.000-05:00

Jason and I had just come home from a morning of sun and tennis. He parked in the street, right in front of the yard. When I climbed out of the car, I don't know what came over me, but ...

I had a sudden urge to swipe at our enormous prickly pear cactus with my tennis racket.

So I did.

THONK.

My racket knocked a bright fuchsia cactus pear off the succulent plant with a satisfying noise.

"Hee hee hee." I pointed and laughed.

"Are you serious?" Jason said. "You're giggling like a 12-year-old."

"Hee hee hee." That made me laugh even harder.

"Wow. You are so juvenile," he said. "Just because you wacked off a cactus ..."

"BWA HA HA HA HA HA!!!"

I crumbled to the grass and laughed until I cried.

Hi. I really am 12.

With this ring ...

2007-02-15T10:33:00.000-05:00

What's that?

I'm sorry ... I can't hear you over the "Bling! Bling!" of my hand.

Jason gave me an engagement ring yesterday, and it's wildly gorgeous.

The photos really don't do justice to the ring. It's so much more sparkly and shimmery in reality, and it's absolutely perfect for my hand.

Also it looks a little pee-colored here, but in real life it's the lightest of yellows. It matches a glass of champagne EXACTLY, and I am all about accessories that coordinate with my alcohol.

I love this ring. I love what it means to us.

I didn't think I would ever be one of those girls to get all weepy over something as traditional as a ring. And as a feminist, I always balked a little at the icky implication of ownership that came along with a ring on the finger.

But now that it's on my hand, I can't help but be moved by my ring. It's one of those things that is so perfect and beautiful, it makes me tear up to look at it.

Yes, it's traditional, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's anti-woman. It's less about possession and more of a symbol for an equal partnership, a promise of an eternal union.

On location: Salton Sea

2007-02-12T17:45:00.000-05:00

When we were making plans to move here, Jason asked, "How close will we be to the beach?"

I said we were about two to three hours from the ocean ... "But we're only about an hour from the Salton Sea."

The Salton Sea. It sounds wide, expansive, romantic. I imagined wind-swept picnics on the sand, evening bonfires by the water's edge, lingering kisses against the crashing waves.

And now I think I was confusing it with "Wide Sargasso Sea," which is actually about the beaches of Jamaica. But whatever. Point is, I was wrong.

Since we've lived here, Jason and I have been hearing a lot about the Salton Sea. There are jokes and stories -- and also a lot of fights. Some people want to drain it, some people want to preserve it. Either way, it's turning into an ugly political mess.

Sunday was our first visit there together. (Jason had been there one time previously with the tour company he used to work for.)

It's true, the Salton Sea is a very troubled place. It's very polluted -- the lake is replentished by agricultural run-off. (You know those conventionally-grown grapes, artichokes, asparagus, etc. you guys get from California? All those poisons run into this body of water.)

A lot of fish used to live there, but the salinity of the lake is getting too high to sustain many species anymore. The fish are also dying from pollution and algae blooms, which makes for a lot of rot and a lot of stench.

I guess the Salton Sea also used to be a thriving resort area; it's now surrounded with dilapidated structures.

But you know what? It's gorgeous.

It's SUCH a cool place.

The lake and surrounding wetlands are a popular stopover for migratory birds:

Environmentally, the place is like nothing I've ever seen before. There's a lot of underground activity, probably because it's so close to the San Andreas Fault line, and the ground literally gurgles with bubbles of methane. There are mud volcanos that belch and burp and erupt -- Jason got splattered with some mud when he was peeking into one of the formations -- and it all feels very prehistoric.

Here's a mud volcano:

And here's some mud about to spew:

It is absolutely one of the most amazing places I've ever been:

Even with the dead fish, which sounded like Pop Rocks as they crunched underneath our feet:

P.S. You guys know that you can click on any of the photos and see my entire collection at Flickr, right? I thought so.

Kung Pao Kitten: Movie Star

2007-02-06T15:06:00.000-05:00

Twenty seconds of a sweet, sweet cat:

And now, "When Cats Attack!" Kung Pao Kitten gets fiesty on the poker table.

Sing us a song!

2007-02-05T16:43:00.000-05:00

Billy Joel's atrocious rendition of the National Anthem at the Super Bowl reminded me of this -- one of my favorite stories ever about Jason:

Between our hectic schedules, I feel like Jason and I get such little time together. So on the weekends, I hate for any of that time to be wasted on sleep. I want to be awake NOW, not wasting one single minute.

I was leaping on the bed, shaking Jason, even prying his eyelids apart with my fingers. "Wake up!" I shouted.

"Why should I wake up?" he said.

"Because!" I said. "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday!"

Jason, with his eyes still closed, said:

"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday,
the regular crowd shuffles in,
there's an old man sitting next to me,
making love to his tonic and gin.

He says, 'Son, can you play me a memory?
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
Back when I wore a younger man's clothes.'"

I grabbed my journal from the nightstand and handed it to Jason with a pen.

"You need to write this shit down," I said.

Since I'm not a Billy Joel fan, I'm not familiar with the lyrics of "Piano Man" outside of the chorus.

Instead, I thought Jason was some sort of sleepy genius poet.

For a new year

2007-01-26T20:43:00.000-05:00

It was my first project of the year with my artist's group: Come up with a theme for 2007.

This was a job for my collage journal!

I spent several evenings snipping photos, piecing together little bits of magazines, gluing down words and phrases, hoping an overwhelming theme would emerge.

And it did:

"Joy without end."

That's also my blessing to all of you this new year. Vibrance without boundaries. Grace without limits. Joy without end.

Tooth aches

2007-01-24T18:29:00.000-05:00

It's too long to explain exactly how and why we ended up in Santa Barbara.

Long story short, Jason had a bad tooth and no dental insurance. Great kindness led us to a dentist in Santa Barbara who was able to work a deal with us -- Jason would be able to get a root canal without running up a huge amount of debt.

I took the day off work to make the drive with Jason, even though he assured me he could do it on his own. I don't know exactly what a root canal involves, but I didn't want him all hopped up on laughing gas three hours away with no ability to get home.

In the dentist's office I was armed with a book and a fresh journal, but even so, I was restless and tired after just 20 minutes of waiting. Then the surgeon poked his head out the door and said the process would take quite a while. At least two hours, probably three.

"Go see Santa Barbara. Do some shopping. Enjoy the day," he said.

Who was I to argue?

So I left. But first I handed my number to the office manager and said to give me a call on my cell if Jason got done early.

It was a weird afternoon. The sun flickered through the clouds, then the sky suddenly buckled with hail.

I walked around in the rain, enjoying the feel of fat, wet drops on my skin, my hands wrapped around a steaming hot venti Americano. I think it was the first time I've been outside in the rain since I moved to California. I slowly savored the window displays of the trendy boutiques, the jewelry shops I can't afford, each nook in the bookstores.

And I had a lot of conversations with strangers. Apparently I look a lot like someone who lives in Santa Barbara, as random people kept stopping me on the street and in the tiny shops.

"I haven't seen you around lately. You look fantastic," they said. "You've lost a lot of weight, haven't you?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks for noticing."

It was a complete lie. But hey, it's always nice to soak up compliments, even if they were intended for someone else.

After about two hours I figured I would call the dentist's office and check up on Jason. I rifled through my purse. No phone. I checked all the pockets I never use. No phone. I squatted on the street in the rain, scouring the deepest, darkest depths of my bags. No phone.

Panicked, I drove back to the dentist's office.

Jason was waiting there, his right hand gingerly holding his swollen face, the other hand holding his unfilled prescription for Vicodin.

He had been waiting for more than an hour. I missed 27 phone calls.

After I left the office, the dentist poked aorund in his mouth and realized the whole molar had to go. A quick yank, and it was done.

It'll be thousands to put in a replacement tooth; in the meantime, he just has a hole. A big, gaping, bloody hole in the back of his mouth.

And I'm the asshole who left him there, waiting in pain.

I cried and he hugged me.

"You're lucky you didn't get here 15 minutes ago," he said, slurring through the cotton in his mouth. "I was angry 15 minutes ago. But then I just got scared something had happened to you."

There's no good reason for Jason to still love me. But he does.

And I love the fact that he was perfectly within his right to get mad at me, but he chose not to.

If that had been me waiting at the dentist's office? Ye-OW.

At least the ocean looked beautiful. That was our big payoff for an otherwise crappy day.

A Perfect Union

2007-01-16T17:30:00.000-05:00

My hobby lately is crafting a playlist called "Take a Vow," which may or may not have something to do with some sort of ceremony. (You'll just have to stick around for the next year to find out.)

So let's say I was going to take a walk down an aisle or something. What song would I want to have playing?

Right now the playlist of choices is a little scattered and crazy, with 72 selections that range from Wilco to Billie Holiday. (For this project, I'm looking for something a litle different than your standard "At Last" or "Unforgettable." Not that those aren't great songs; they're just not what I'm looking for.) Depending on my mood, my favorites vary wildly.

As of this moment, the leaders are:

"I Melt With You" * Nouvelle Vague

"Baby I Love You" * Aretha Franklin

"My Baby Just Cares for Me" * Nina Simone

"Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" * The Arcade Fire (I adore this song, and it always makes me a little weepy, but I don't know that everyone will get it; it's a little unconventional for the thing I'd like to use it for. But then again, screw everyone. It's my party and my song.)

Of course, all of this is likely to change. In a year from now, who knows what songs will stab me right in the heart and make me all gooey?

So now I pose the question to you. What love songs really get to you? What tunes do you find absolutely loverly?

Next up: Let's say I was having a first dance with someone ...

Lucky Star

2007-01-09T20:05:00.000-05:00

Oh, hi.

Wondering where I've been lately?

No place special. Nothing happening here. Nada.

Just the usual ... you know, eating, sleeping, working. And hanging out with Brad Pitt.

Bluest of Blue Skies

2007-01-05T16:51:00.000-05:00

Someone I knew died in a skydiving accident over the weekend.

I won't pretend like Cliff and I were good friends, because we weren't. But I knew him when Jason was working at Skydive City in Zephyrhills, Fla. I visited for a few weeks and chatted with Cliff at the bar, every night after the sunset swoop load.

Here's what I do know about the guy:

* A conversation with Cliff was like a philosophy class, law class and debate class, all rolled into one.

* He mooched beers off me like crazy.

* Whenever I told a story that involved a woman, he would say, "Is she hot?" Even if the story was about my mother. Heck, especially if the story was about my mother.
For any other stories, he'd do the ol' "Was it bigger than a breadbox?"

* He was snarky and fun, and I'm sad that he's gone. The world needs smartasses like him -- he was a smart smartass.

Now I wish I had asked him what his favorite song was. I wish I had known more about him. I wish I had seared more memories of him into my mind. I wish I had kept in touch.

He'd probably roll his eyes to see that people were getting so warm and fuzzy about him. No, actually, he'd just mock me, using some long and obscure word I've never heard of.

Because this was a collision that involved another skydiver, it's bringing back a lot of memories about Jason's incident.

I'm still trying to make sense of it all, all of these accidents -- how something that brings so much joy and vitality and life to a person can also bring pain and grief. I don't know if it's better that someone should die while doing something they love, or if that's even more unjust.

I've been thinking about death a lot lately. I think that's common during the winter, a season of departure, and the new year, with so many endings that preface a renewal.

I was also covering the death of Gerald Ford and spent a lot of time thinking about the deceased and those who mourn and grieve.

I haven't come up with any answers -- I think I'm trying to intellectualize something we don't have the capacity to understand. I don't know if it's better to have someone depart quickly and dynamically, without ever saying goodbye, or to have them linger and fall away slowly. I don't know if it's comforting or disturbing to know that death is the great equalizer, that we all go, no matter our status or position. I don't know why it all happens when it happens.

All I know to be certain is that death is a side effect of life. And Cliff fucking lived.

I'm praying for the friends and family of Cliff, as well as the friends and family of the other man involved in the accident. If they are shown even a fraction of the solidarity and kindness that we received, they will be overwhelmed.

Peace and love.

"But don’t don’t lose hope no no no no
No no no don’t feel sad ’cause it’s a violent world
But there’s still beauty
I’ll take care of you if you take care of me."
-- Of Montreal, "The Repudiated Immortals"

Cleaning the clutter

2006-12-20T23:00:00.000-05:00

I knew better. But I did it anyway.

I went through the messy hall closet tonight, even though Jason is away and all my friends are busy or gone.

Pretty soon the night involved less cleaning, more nostalgia. Eventually I was curled up on the floor in a puddle of old things, old mementos, an old life.

Mix tapes. Photos of friends before our relationships shattered. My favorite shirt for clubbing. A toothbrush with a photo of a man on the handle -- turn it upside-down and his shorts disappear. Sad journals. Clippings from magazines that once meant something to me. Promise rings. Strips from the photo booth, featuring a revolving door of men. A feather boa. A card written by my mom, back when she was sane. Half-burnt candles.

And this tattered letter from a boy, long before he broke my heart:

I was alone for the longest time and then I found her ... Maybe she was just a dream and maybe she wasn't. At this point, it doesn't much matter.

She is beautiful -- tall, perfect body, wonderful skin, and amazingly beautiful; mythically beautiful.

I miss her.

If you find her, tell her she was my only thought. My head loved her heart, and my heart loved all of her.

I want to hold her beside me for a hundred years and love her forever.

That closet is like an altar of everything that could have been; the paths I didn't take, the things I left behind, the choices I made, the pieces that have all fit together to make up this very moment right now.

I packed everything back into the boxes and shut the door.

Overcoming

2006-12-12T19:19:00.000-05:00

Some days, it just doesn't feel like it's going to get any better.

The cat gets sick, then becomes well, then gets sick again.

I get ahead of my bills just long enough to have them drown me again.

My work goes through a period where the story ideas are plentiful, the words flow easily, the readers are open and receptive. And then it all seemingly stops at once.

My relationship with Jason is comfortable and happy, and suddenly we're tested by a firing squad.

Days like this, it's hard to feel much gratitude.

And then I read this quote this afternoon, and it really struck something inside me:

“For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.” – Alfred Souza

THIS is my life. And it is not easy or shiny or pretty.

There will be stress. There will be difficulty. There will be messy desks, credit card debt, dirty laundry, a full in-box, cloudy skies. There will be bitterness and sadness and people who don't yet know how to forgive. There will be days where I don't feel valued or loved or respected. There will be tests and trials and obstacles to overcome ... and all of that will be my life.

But there will also be sunshine and lemonade too.

Oh man

2006-12-11T19:08:00.000-05:00

On Saturday night, I was THAT girl -- the one who cries at the company holiday party.

Whee.

It was no huge deal. Somebody drunkenly said something to me that hurt my feelings. And because I had a little wine in me too, I immediately became emotional and weepy and sad.

The worst part is that I am not a pretty crier. There are some people who cry and look like the tearful stars of dramatic movies. Their features weaken and their faces start to look all soft-focus. Their eyes spill over with tears, their bodies curl up like pill bugs, their lips get all puffy and pouty. Their sadness only makes them look more delicate, more adorably tragic.

These people don't cry; they weep.

I don't cry like that: I moan. I hyperventilate. And I'm never wise enough to use waterproof mascara.

So at the company holiday party, I wasn't able to catch myself before my face began to swell, my skin got splotchy, my nose and eyes were bright red.

At least I matched the poinsettias.

Great spam

2006-12-08T12:49:00.000-05:00

Got this in my inbox today:

"The climate inside her, he had come to discover, was like springtime in the Midwest.
She seized him with panicky strength and pulled him into an upright sitting position. He worked his way out from under her like a man burrowing his way out of a snowpile. He saw her pulling her lip out, digging her short nails into its sensitive pink meat. The wagon was reversing down the driveway before he got his door all the way closed."

Hmm. What's the climate inside you?

Everything Zen

2006-12-06T19:05:00.000-05:00

My column for this week's paper is about my visit to the Zen Mountain Center, near Idyllwild.

I'll post more about it, once I wrap my head around everything I want to say.

In the meantime, there are pictures.

This is the building where I had a one-on-one beginner's class with a monk named Travis:

These are Tibetan prayer flags, though when Jason was looking at the photos he said, "Aw, how sweet! They all had their clothes out to dry!"

The center is located on 160 acres. Part of it is very mountainous terrain and includes hiking trails that join up with the Pacific Crest Trail. The other part looks out over Lake Hemet:

I can't wait to return. It did my soul good.

Shiver me timbers!

2006-12-01T17:12:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure what's happening with the temperature in Palm Springs right now, but I suspect it has something to do with global warming and Al Gore and the fact that I haven't rented "An Inconvenient Truth" yet.

It's COLD.

How cold is it?

Last night Jason and I had to turn on the heat. And I don't think we did that until at least mid-January last year.

At 5 a.m. this morning when I went to my boot camp workout at the soccer park, I wore knee-high socks, yoga pants, a long sleeve tee, a hooded sweatshirt, a thick sweater from Tibet, a fleece hat with the hood of the sweatshirt pulled up and ski gloves. And I still didn't get warm. Not even once.

It was so cold, there was frost on the field. As we did our warm-up -- no joke -- we all created melted patches of grass around our feet. By the end of the class, there was ice on the bottom hem of my yoga pants.

It was so cold that my butt went numb. And not in a good way.

A work of fiction

2006-11-28T20:02:00.000-05:00

I'm working on this holiday piece for the paper, and it's driving me absolutely crazy.

See, the thing is that the piece has to be fiction.

I don't write fiction. Or, at least, I didn't really write fiction until today.

I've dabbled, of course. I think every writer does. But it's not what I'm good at. Every time I try to write a piece of fiction, I end up telling the person's story in 10 inches, the same way I do a newspaper article: A person is born, he lives and he dies. The end.

Plus, it's just too much power, playing svengali with all these imaginary people and their imaginary lives. I don't want to get into someone else's head. I spend too much time as it is trying to get out of mine.

So back to this holiday story. It had to set the scene, establish some characters and be something fun and accessible to everyone, all within a few paragraphs. Ha!

My ideas have ranged from Santa in space to a would-be burglar, who is dressed like Santa and gets stuck in the chimney of a pizza place on Christmas Eve. (Except that one's not fiction; it really happened in Dayton, Ohio. The pizza burglar, I mean. Not Santa in space.)

One of my favorite ideas involved the break down of the Palm Springs tramway -- and a bunch of tourists dangle precariously over the mountainside like an ornament on a Christmas tree. But then I figured that nobody wants a huge local tragedy with their morning bowl of cornflakes, especially when the tragedy hasn't actually happened.

Stupid fiction. Why can't everything be real?

Breathe

2006-11-27T16:32:00.000-05:00

"You are the light, you are the refuge. There is no place to take shelter but yourself."
-- Inscription over Buddha's ashes.

Kitty, Hello?

2006-11-24T17:57:00.000-05:00

Benefits to having a sick cat in the animal hospital:

1. No cat trying to tiptoe onto the stove and eat out of the pan while dinner is cooking.

2. No need to protectively shelter plates of food. Especially plates bearing seafood.

3. No smelly litter.

4. No loud meows to disturb business calls.

5. No evil genius cat taking a big dump right before company comes over.

6. Cat hair on clothing a thing of the past.

7. No diabolical feline leaping through the air and onto my back during upside-down yoga postures.

8. No more shredded newspapers.

9. No more scratching my arms or biting my feet. (Unless I tell Jason to.)

10. No more waking up to little paws swatting at my head.

Cons:

1. Quiet

2. Sad

3. Lonely

Striking it Rich

2006-10-24T16:25:00.000-05:00

I'm a suspicious and cynical person.

When my cat shows me too much love, I think about this medical study I read that said animals can smell cancer.

So when the cat plops down on my lap, that is an obvious indication of my undiagnosed pancreatic cancer. His paws on my chest signal a breast tumor. His nuzzles and cuddles and snuggles are a sure sign I am a diseased woman and he is trying to show me some affection before my untimely death.

That's the kind of person I am.

I don't just look a gift horse in the mouth. I pry the lips open, push the tongue around and dissect everything in there.

So I was nervous when the man at Jiffy Lube was far too kind to me.

The car was in and done within a half-hour. That was great. I was in a real hurry and had some other work to do.

But first, he said, they wanted to run the car through the car wash. Sure, I agreed. No biggie. How long could it take?

While I waited, I paid for the oil change with my credit card.

Suddenly the man got all weird and jittery. He ran out to check on the car, then came back inside, then went back out to the car.

"There's been a problem," he said. "The guy who put your car through the car wash didn't do it properly. I have to do it again."

"Actually, I need to get going. I'll just take the car as is."

"No, no, no. Please. We want to take care of you, and we want to do your car right. I insist."

"I don't think so ..."

The man grabbed my hands and looked into my eyes, almost tenderly.

"You deserve it," he said.

So there my vehicle went, back through the car wash.

A full half-hour later, I was reunited with the car. I was more than a little angry at that point, because even a Hot Wheel could make it through the automatic washer in five minutes flat.

I am sure that in this time, the Jiffy Lubers have ransacked the glove box, made copies of my keys, gone for some wacky joyride like the valet in Ferris Bueller.

And then I see my car. It looked as though it had been detailed with a toothbrush. My car has never been so clean, not even when I drove it off the new car lot.

From the driver's seat it was the same story. The floors were vacuumed. The windshield was flawless, wiped spotless even on the inside. Even the cup holders -- where my Americanos often splash over the side and leave dried splotches of coffee -- were immaculate. Clouds of new car air freshener hung near my head like a halo.

But there was more. Before I drove off, the Jiffy Lube man handed me a special VIP discount card for all my future purchases.

"Take care. Hope this is everything you hoped for an expected in your oil change experience," he said.

Huh?

As I drove off in my sparkling car, I could see him waving until he became nothing more than a speck in my rearview mirror.

"Who cares why he did it?" Jason said later, while we were relaxing on the couch. "Maybe he was just being nice."

"But what did he do in there?" I said.

"Baby, you have a really clean car. Just enjoy it!"

The cat hopped into my lap and began rubbing his head on my abdomen.

"I think I know exactly what happened," I said.

"It's because of the tumor in my liver, isn't it?"

Happy 3-Year Anniversary!

2006-09-29T18:52:00.000-05:00

You know how there's that stereotype about girls being hypersensitive and anal about celebrating every anniversary?

Well, that's not me.

The other day Jason and I were curled up together on the couch, and I said, "Hey, don't we have an anniversary this month? Or next month? Or sometime?"

"Uh ... yeah. We do, now that you mention it."

"When is it?"

"I know when it is."

"No, you don't! If you knew when it was you would have remembered it," I said, poking him in the ribs.

"No, I remembered. And then I forgot. And now I remember again. It's Sept. 20."

"Oh. Happy anniversary!"

I love being with Jason, I really do. I was just talking about this the other day with some people, as we were discussing what we see in our significant other.

I said that when a lot of people meet Jason, they come away saying that he's the nicest person they've ever met. And it's true.

He's a pure soul, someone who always has the best of intentions. He's genuine and sincere; there's no facade. He is 100 percent really, truly NICE. And that sounds kind of schmucky, until you think about the last time you met someone who was truly nice -- it's not as often as you might think.

Jason doesn't say mean things about others, he finds the best in people, he's positive. He holds doors open, he scoots in your chair, he's the guy who will walk all the way back across the grocery store to replace an item on the shelf where it belongs. If he only has $5 in the bank, he will happily give it to you.

He's good at math and comes in handy when I'm trying to figure out the sale price of shoes. He's a pro at rolling sushi. And he's so friendly, he could make friends with an onion.

He treats me with respect and kindness, and he has the patience of Buddha. I don't know how he puts up with me and my tantrums over lost shoes or burnt food or equally silly things. He has a wonderful ability to calm me down and/or make me stop crying, even when I'm hysterical.

We've navigated a lot of shit together, and even through everything, he's so happy and optimistic about the world. I'm a generally glass-half-empty person who wears a lot of black, and I don't see how he can always maintain a cheerful outlook on life. He's incredible.

We balance each other out really well. When I'm dancing on the bar, he's the designated driver. When I entertain, he's quietly cleaning up the kitchen or chopping food for a dish. When I'm telling a joke or a story, he never tries to steal my spotlight.

And that's not to say that he's introverted, because he's not. He's just more laid-back, a little more low-key. He does get crazy sometimes, but he has to really be in his element and feel comfortable.

Most importantly, at the end of the day, Jason never fails to make me smile.

He loves me completely, and I'm so happy that we managed to find each other.

Happy anniversary, baby.

Meh

2006-09-01T19:00:00.000-05:00

Times are a little rough right now.

I just keep thinking about this quote and pressing on:

"The fact is, that to do anything in the world worth doing, we must not stand back shivering and thinking of the cold and danger, but jump in and scramble through as well as we can."

-- Robert Cushing

Sign O' the Times

2006-08-10T13:58:00.000-05:00

Of course my friends had nothing to do with this.

And of course alcohol was not involved.

Gettin' High

2006-07-31T18:09:00.000-05:00

I no longer jump -- I fly.

This year's birthday celebration ended on a high note with my birthday party at trapeze school.

I loved it. LOVED it.

It was scary and strange and challenging and exhilarating all the same time.

I really had low expectations for the class. I figured I would swing back and forth a couple times, then drop into the net. That's it. I didn't expect that my second time up I would be hanging by my feet off the trapeze. And by my third time, I made contact with another trapeze artist and swung through the air with him!

There's nothing cooler in the world than hanging by your legs, upside-down with your arms outstretched ... then suddenly seeing the hands of a guy who is upside-down another trapeze, waiting to catch you. It was incredible.

Jason was a natural at it too. You should have seen his backflip. That man belongs in the air one way or another.

I can't wait to go back.

Awesome

2006-05-25T12:45:00.000-05:00

The best thing that someone has said to me all week:

"When I was in the West Coast Jello Wrestling Championships, I was wrestling this chick with super bleached blonde hair. I won by pinning her down in the cherry jello -- and I heard she had pink hair for three weeks."

Just because he's Asian?

2006-05-19T16:02:00.000-05:00

A couple people told me that Sean Lennon looks like Jason in this photo.

Perhaps a little ... I guess ... maybe ... no.

No, I don't see it.

Besides, Jason would never wear a shirt that cool.

I do think that Sean Lennon looks like John Lennon, though. But that's a given.

Rock on!

2006-05-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

Coachella = Best. Weekend. Ever.

I Think We're Alone Now

2006-04-17T13:14:00.000-05:00

I sang "I Think We're Alone Now" for my fifth grade talent show.

And while I have aged quite a bit since then, Tiffany hasn't. She is as fabulous-looking as she was way back in the '80s. She doesn't even have a hint of wrinkle.

It's almost like she sucked all the electric youth out of Debbie Gibson.

Writing exercise

2006-04-09T16:52:00.000-05:00

Author's note: I dashed this off over the weekend for my creative writing group.
Some people who know me from way back when might think this is about a specific ex-boyfriend. It is not. This is fiction, and the characters are figments of my imagination.
I just happened to borrow the ex's car for the story, because a yellow Lexus is the universal code for pompous asshole.

Arch, loop, arch.
Arch, loop, arch.
I practice each move carefully, slowly, with rhythm.
Arch, loop, arch.
The pastry bag is moving and swelling inside my hand like a lover, forming to the inside of my palm like a second skin.
The chocolate wiggles its way out in thick, solid, inky lines.
“Nice swirls,” I bet he’d say.
For the first 15 minutes of class, we practice on graph paper covered in contact sheets. It’s easy to wipe away, erase, start over.
If only life was like that.
Here we strive for perfection. Each tiny pastry has to look perfect and pristine. Tiny works of art.
The way he always wanted me to look.
Fifteen after. Forty-five minutes left in class.
It’s time to try our technique on real cupcakes.
The spongy, buttery cake gives in to me, buckles under the blade of my knife. The icing is a feat of chemistry, little molecules that form a tremendous, inch-high skyscraper of sweetness.
The trick to good frosting is to continually move the cupcake while keeping the knife still, using the blade like a spatula.
It gets easier the more you do it.
Once I have a smooth layer of buttercream on all 12 specimens, I pick up the pastry bag again, plopping ski slopes of chocolate on top.
These are sweet, just like me.
The only difference is that he might actually want cupcakes.
For the first month, I drank a bottle of cheap red wine every night and existed on whatever I had in the pantry, usually stale crackers.
Slowly the desire grew for something different, something decadent. I gave myself over to the craving.
I make cupcakes every day now.
I think they’re such an interesting beast. Fanciful and embellished, bringing vivid color to even the blandest of days.
I love how they’re not a complete cake. And I love how the icing conceals what’s really inside, the way you never know what you’re getting until you actually dive in.
Monday was papaya-coconut cupcakes with ginger-lime cream cheese frosting.
Tuesday was cherry chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.
Wednesday was mint cream-filled cocoa cakes with raspberry mousse.
Today I’m doing a dark chocolate cake frosted with caramel buttercream, a drizzle of chocolate and toffee bits.
He hated toffee.
We used to really cook, he and I.
Baking together was better therapy than any of those bullshit weekend seminars he dragged me to.
We got along in the kitchen like chocolate and peanut butter. I was patient one, the sifter, separating all the crushed flour particles into mountains of powdery snow.
He was the beater, the mixer, inflicting pain on the eggs, butter, sugar.
We made this incredible red velvet cake once, that was at once moist and light -- truly like velvet on the tongue. We had a picnic in the park and brought along big hunks of the cake, which we devoured without remorse.
I thought he was going to propose.
He never did.
The day he left, we were standing next to his sunshine yellow Lexus. I thought I was just seeing him off for the night. He was thinking something longer, more permanent.
Three years together, and all I get is a shrug before he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
Of course not. Because it’s working out with the 20-year-old in his office.
After he drove away, I never got the chance to tell him how much his taillights resemble round, golden cupcakes.
I love how cupcakes are not a complete cake.
They’re little and fractured. Tiny parts of a whole. Waiting to be consumed.

New hair!

2006-04-06T14:02:00.000-05:00

This was taken in my car, fresh from a new haircut.

I feel like a movie star. Proof that sometimes, change is really, really good.

"And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom."
-Anais Nin

Shoes, glorious shoes!

2006-03-28T14:53:00.000-05:00

New shoes! And snakeskin!

I put these on and nearly cried. It was like being reunited with the child I never knew I had.

How could I have lived without these for so long?

Whirlwind spring

2006-03-22T02:55:00.000-05:00

Jason and I have so many exciting things coming up in the near future:

* Jason is starting up a regular poker night. He's got a new poker table, and we've got some new friends. And together, those things seem just about perfect for a Texas Hold 'Em tournament.

* Some of our most beloved friends are coming to visit, so we've been prepping the house in anticipation. That means finally unpacking the last of the moving boxes (ugh) and actually getting some furniture. Yes, even a sofa. We're becoming so adult around here. We're all growed up.

* More and more of my work is being featured in glossy publications, which is so exciting. I have another cover story coming out next month. My dad is gonna be so proud.

* The Coachella Arts and Music Festival is coming up at the end of April, and it's happening practically in my backyard. This makes me insanely giddy. I've been following this featival from afar since its inception, and now I get to attend the whole thing as part of my job.

And the bands? My God. Stellastarr*, Depeche Mode, Daft Punk, Editors, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, HARD-Fi, She Wants Revenge, Nine Black Alps, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Sleater-Kinney, Phoenix, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Oakenfold, MADONNA ...

Hells yeah.

* This year I'll attend my first White Party, the biggest gay party in the country. And my date is going to be Maria, a hottie from my stripper class. We're going to be rolling up in a white limo and attending a big dance fest with the Pussycat Dolls.

I think I've had dreams like that.

* After all this excitement, Jason and I will finally take a breather during a much-needed getaway.

See, last summer we were scheduled to take a little weekend trip to D.C., a plan that was sidelined by his skydiving accident.

Then, when I really thought about it, I realized we've never taken a real, honest vacation together.

So this year, I decided to treat us both. We're taking a five-day cruise to Baja, Mexico.

Sure, it's only a three-hour drive from us, but this way we get to stuff our faces 10 times a day. Besides, Carnival had me at "midnight chocolate buffet."

So we'll be floating over to Catalina Island for a day, where we're planning on some kayaking and hiking. Then we'll float over to Ensenada, Baja, where we can do some snorkling, horseback riding, a tour through the Mexican wine country or some shopping. (I'm aiming for all of the above.)

Then we spend some time at sea, with shows, food, pools, food, water slides, food, drinking, food, dance classes, food, a spa ... and more food.

I know cruises can be kind of cheesy. But think of it -- in the middle of the ocean, with no cell phones, no email, no alarm clocks. The transportation is arranged, the room is reserved, the food is prepared, and there's an entire fleet of sailors devoted to serving my every need.

Doesn't that sound heavenly?

Incriminating Evidence

2006-03-09T17:17:00.000-05:00

Jason was so sick and hopped up on medicine when I snapped this shot, I wonder if he'll see it later and think we really got hitched.

I don't think he even remembers that I left the house for hours and hours on Sunday night to go to a costumed Oscars party.

Hee. He's gonna get punk'd.

Philiminated!

2006-03-07T19:23:00.000-05:00

Oh, man. There are few things I relish more than "The Amazing Race."

Getting filthy in foreign countries. Riding yaks and rappelling down 400-foot buildings. Eating gallons of goulash.

One-hundred percent pure travel porn.

The new season is here, and it's turning out to be more exciting than ever. And now my best friend, Jamie, and I will be documenting every step of the way at our new blog. Lucky you!

Click here: Jamie and Maggie Watch the Amazing Race.

Bookmark it. Read it. Love it. Oh, and leave comments too.

Here Comes the Bride

2006-03-06T16:12:00.000-05:00

If you've ever wanted to attract attention while driving down the street, dress up like a bride.

A stipulation of the Oscars party I attended Sunday night was that every guest had to dress like a movie character. I was orginally going to be June Carter Cash -- but Jason, my Johnny, was sick.

So I was the Corpse Bride. And in retrospect, I should have put on the veil AFTER I got to the party, not before driving there.

I've never garnered so many honks and shouts before, not even when the air conditioning didn't work and I was driving in a bikini and pouring water all over my sweaty body.

I was literally stopping traffic.

One car full of guys screamed at me, "NO GROOM?"

I wanted to say, "Oh, he's in the land of the living" -- but that's difficult to explain during a short stoplight.

Probably the funniest moment was when I got lost and had to turn around in someone's driveway. The people gawked at me from their front lawn, probably thinking "Who invited the bride?"

I have to say, from the shoulders up I did make quite a decent bride.

What the other driver's couldn't see -- the ragged hem of my dress, my dead bouquet of flowers and the plastic spiders that were safety-pinned to my dress. Very corpsey, indeed.

A side view

2006-03-03T11:54:00.000-05:00

Here's a better look at Jason's haircut. (Note the awesome duct tape watch I gave him for Christmas.)

Doesn't he look so handsome?

And for those of you who were wondering what happened to his super-long ponytail, we donated it to Locks of Love.

Ugh

2006-02-20T15:30:00.000-05:00

You know you should have eaten dinner when you find yourself at an L.A. club, ordering dirty martinis simply for the olives.

You also know you're in for a long night.

Beware the Beast

2006-02-18T12:24:00.000-05:00

I am the kind of person who consumes tofu and likes it. I gave up caffeine. I contain my speeding to 10 miles over the speed limit. I keep most of my partying on the weekend. I am generally a law-abiding person.

But I teeter on the edge.

There's another part of me that's far too gluttonous and far too wild and far too stupid to know when to stop. I know this about myself, and I know there's a really delicate balance that I need to maintain. I'm like a pit bull tied up with a piece of yarn.

So I try to avoid any situations where I might let the worst part of myself run free.

But now I have to spend the night in L.A.

L.A. is bad for me. It's the ideal city for me to indulge all my vices without judgment. It's trouble. It's the kind of place where you can find an 8-ball to snort off a dead hooker's back -- and 10 other people to join you.

However, I need to be in L.A. tonight. It's my best friend's birthday. I love her, and I want to be there with her to celebrate.

I just don't want to let myself go anywhere near that soulless city.

I won't go into details, but the last time I went to L.A., I spent a good 24 hours thinking that I was going to die. Then I spent another 24 hours filled with regret and apologizing to the people around me.

So I'm writing a letter to myself this morning. A very personal, brutal letter about exactly what went down the last time.

Hopefully at 3 a.m. in the depths of a party -- when that pit bull is snarling and slobbering and about to break loose -- I'll pull that letter out of my purse and remind myself of what I need to do.

Heads up!

2006-02-01T00:35:00.000-05:00

How cool is it to see a giraffe plucking leaves off a palm tree?

Answer: Very.