How a Dance Party Saved my Soul

I've been having a pretty shitty week. 

Nothing epic or major, all uptown problems, just your run of the mill what-am-i-doing-with-my-life?I-am-lost-and-lonely-and-broke-and-stressed-and-miserable type thing...
Jake is out of town for the summer and I'm missing him desperately (ugly cry), paying rent completely wiped out my finances (seriously. I've got 11 dollars.), and I'm feeling like a very small fish in an overwhelmingly large pond (full of really attractive, well dressed, successful bigger fish). 

The entire week I've felt like a glass doll, ready to shatter at any minute (excuse the poetic lament - mental instability makes me lyrical.) A very thin layer has been holding back tears, and they've been coming in waves all day.
8am cry into a glass of iced coffee.
9am cry while running the reservoir loop and attract pity stares
9:45am cry in the shower
10:15am cry while sitting on the floor watching a video of Kermit and Debbie Harry singing 'Rainbow Connection'
...
You get the idea. 

So last night when friends from my improv class invited me out, it was the last thing I wanted to do. (Sticking to a strict crying regimen takes discipline.)
However, they worked at convincing me to go (mostly by offering to buy me drinks), and I agreed. 

We went to Akbar, a well known bar on Sunset. What was not well known to us, however, was that it is a well known Gay bar. With a well known dance floor. 
It. Was. Awesome. 

I don't know what came over me (vodka), or what sparked it (vodka), but I completely let go. 
I danced for three solid hours to disco and early 00's hits and everything else you could think of. (The Gay community has amazing taste in general, but they wrote the effing book on dance music.) 
I didn't care that my hair was getting frizzy, or that my white Keds were getting scuffed up. I didn't care if my dancing looked stupid (it did) or if I was gonna be hungover the next day (I was), all I cared about was being in that moment and having the best time. 

It was exactly what my weak and weary little soul needed. 

Looking around the disco ball confettied room (did I just make that word up?), I was reminded why I moved here. To try new things, to meet new people, to collect new experiences and adventures.
Being brave and pursuing lofty dreams is not easy, and I'm learning to deal with that. 
There are days that suck. And then there are days that really suck. And then there are days that don't suck at all, but you are just going through something, so they end up sucking. But the best sucky days are the ones that end up being simply the best. 

Bryan Ferry (my love) sings about dancing away the heartache, and that's my official new philosophy. I know there's science behind the benefits of dancing and social interaction and all that, and I know that there's logic behind the recharging properties of social outings for an extrovert like me, but all I can tell you is that the next time I'm in a funk I am heading straight back to that bar to dance that shit out. 

So, basically what I'm saying is - next time someone wants to buy me a drink, I have the perfect place. 

Summer Intentions List

WTF, 2015?
JUNE already? 
I thought this was the year I was going to get my shit together and conquer the world. 
I thought by this point in time I would be dominating. 
But once again, life has consumed me and goals have slipped through the cracks. 
But. 
It's not too late. 
The glass is six months full. 
I've still got half the year to get it together. And that's what I'm gonna do. 
I've made a list of important things to try to integrate into my life. 
I'm no longer calling them resolutions because that word is aggressive and connotative and makes me feel like a failure. I read the term Personal Intentions the other day, and I'm way into it. That has a better ring. 

So. Here are my mid-year personal intentions:

• More water. Less wine. 
• More writing. Less Hulu. 
• Stop talking about all of your hobbies and actually do them. Your ukulele is gathering dust, your DSLR is getting rusty. 
• Perpetuate positivity - be the nicer version of yourself I know is somewhere in there. 
• BACK UP YOUR COMPUTER
• Take classes, meet people, go to seminars, try new things. 
• Hunt down another pair of Eddie Bauer 90's cut-offs. If they really are the only thing you're going to wear all summer, (which it looks like they are), ebay the shit out of them. 
• Start putting money into your savings account again. Seriously. 10 bucks a check. 
• Have the bank reinstate your savings account. 
• Call your grandma at least once a week. 
• Find a way to get images printed really really big (for really really cheap) and hang a cool gallery wall. 
• Get off the fucking internet. 
• Get a fucking oil change. 
• Buy a damn dresser & get rid of half your clothes before filling it up. 
• Embrace hiking and eat fruit. 
• While you're at it, pump the breaks on the breakfast taco habit. 
• Go to the beach and actually go in the ocean. 
• Buy peonies as much as possible
• Exercise for sanity, not vanity. 
• (But also, drop some pounds.) 
• Sing and dance more.
• Learn how to make GIFs (of you singing and dancing) 
• Stop dilly dallying over every single decision in your life. When you're presented with an opportunity, trust your gut instinct, go with it, and don't look back. You're just wasting time and energy lamenting over everything this much. 
• Read. 
• Have people over. 
• Have people over for a fondue party. 
• Learn how to make fondue. 
• Join a club. 
• Invest in a really nice scented candle.
• Invest in a new pair of shoes.
• Invest in your career. 
• Say No. 
• Say Yes.

Let's do this. 

Whole Foods is the Enemy

I don't shop at Whole Foods. 
But the people I work for do. 
So I find myself going there a lot - searching the aisles for specialty Thai spices, organic Ghee (don't worry I didn't know what it was either), and whatever other ingredients I don't remember because I can't afford them.

And there hasn't been one time where I didn't come to the precipice of a mental breakdown. 

In a land where carnations cost $8, jars of fresh juice remind you that you need to detox, and the man running the organic cafeteria resembles your ethnically ambiguous middle school crush, it seems an appropriate place to have a crisis of self. 

Surrounded by designer kombucha and propaganda advertising 'Americas Healthiest Store', I begin to feel it - that dreaded of all things: Less Than. 

That feeling where even though you have everything you need and then some, you become consumed by the feeling that you might not.  

Whole foods makes me feel all of my insecurities at the same time. 

Everything overflows. 
Somewhere between the mangos and the macaroons I evolve into all my insecurities: poor, fat & misunderstood. 

Wearing the same pants I've worn every day for two months, (from Old fucking Navy), I spiral into a tornado of all my anxious sub-thoughts:

I can't afford that wine! 

I look disgusting! 

That iced coffee costs more than my cable bill! 

That woman twice my age looks better in Lululemon yoga pants than I ever have!

I'm never even going to be able to afford Lululemon yoga pants! 

I AM A PATHETIC LOST HOODRAT! 

WHATAMIDOINGWITHMYLIIIIIIIFFFFEEE????

You know. The usual. 

Sure. They might have the greatest paleo cole slaw ever imagined. And sure - I might try 5 samples of things every visit. And ok, they sell those fancy bread and butter pickles that I can't find anywhere else.
BUT. 
Let us not be fooled by their shiny appearance and designer chia seeds - they are evil. 

(These people are not average WF grocery shoppers. Or hikers. Or farmers. Or melon-eating goddesses. They are models. That girl's never held a chicken before in her life. These people are hired by casting agencies & CEO's to make us think that if we shop at their fucking store we will look like this. We won't.)

It's not just the perpetuation of idealized results from shopping there that's hard to swallow, it's basic, corporate bullshit. 
Based on my copious knowledge of cheap wine prices, they are overcharging by an average of 4 dollars a bottle. Thats like 2 entire bottles at Trader Joes. (Although I hear 2 Buck Chuck is made with animal blood so don't buy that.)

They train their employees to only know about their specific sections, so they basically are rendered useless and leave you wandering the aisles like a drunk child. 

The store is designed to make you think you need things that you never even knew existed. It's a lot like Sharper Image that way. (Sharper Image, I realize, is an outdated reference and something I will always associate with the karaoke scene in When Harry Met Sally).

It's a destructive place.

One that affects my psyche and sense of self. 

Ok. 
I guess this has nothing to do with Whole Foods and everything to do with me. 
If I didn't feel those things about myself somewhere deep inside, then a fancy grocery store wouldn't bring them out in me.
If I didn't carry with me a permanent sense of lingering guilt over how many beers I had yesterday or how I should be doing more, then a row of designer condiments wouldn't look like they were mocking me. 
But as it is, we all have that side to us. That seed of doubt that leaves us staring at a jar of literal or metaphorical vegan mayonnaise thinking why am I here? (Not in a big meta why am I on this planet way, but in a literal why am I at this place feeling this way way) 

Whatever your Whole Foods is, the thing that makes you feel less than, I urge you to ignore it. Nobody is less than anybody, including you and me. (Actually, I saw Beyoncé in person the other day and I'm pretty sure she is an actual goddess, but that's the exception, not the rule.) 

Buy the pickles, drink the wine, and go kick ass. 
That's what I'm gonna do anyway. 
(Right after I finish my bowl of paleo slaw.) 

What I Learned from Losing Part of My Thumb

OK. - Not part of my thumb. Just some flesh. 
(But it got you to click, didn't it?)
I was however, engaged in an incident involving scissors, 2 well-intending small children, and a trip to Urgent Care. (where I cried like a baby while the beautiful, stylish Asian doctor who's probably my same age and has her whole life totally together and frizz-free, burned the shit out of cauterized the wound.)
The thumb is fine. It's in recovery.
(And by that I mean I made a splint out of gauze & bandaids and drank away the pain.)

The point of this post is not that I am accident prone, or that I have a low pain tolerance, or that sometimes weird shit happens (although it definitely does). 
The point of this is that I learned a lot from having half of my thumbprint cut off. 

I learned that I need to slow the fuck down. 
That I need to stop stressing about "perfecting" my life and enjoy the messiness that is the present. 
It's ok to have boxes that are still unpacked. 
It's ok to get in fights and express emotions.
It's o-fucking-k to not have written the next great American screenplay yet. 

Time is relative. Don't compete with anyone but yourself. Comparison is the thief of joy. 
All that kind of shiz.

I've been listening to a lot of Oprah Deepak Chopra lately, and it's been really helping me take a step back and accept calmness. To accept myself more and be open to the universe. (Insert crystal healing hippy joke here)

I've had an epiphany recently that I think appropriately applies to my current situation:

Hard does not equal bad. 

The same way leading an easy life doesn't necessarily make it a happy one, going through things that are hard doesn't mean that it's negative. 

My life has gotten significantly harder in the last 6 months. 

I make less money and have bigger bills. I don't know where I'm going half the time - both figuratively (I don't know what I'm doing) and literally (I don't know where shit is.) 
I've become a succulent mother. 

I get overwhelmed a lot. 

But that's not bad. It's just hard. 

And it's hard to do things that are scary, but that's what growth is. And that's good. 

I read a quote the other day that said "someone else would kill to have your worst day." 

And that's super true. There IS someone out there who would hear about my day of bank notifications, relationship stress and thumb blood and think "Must be nice." 
(I picture this person to be a strong, stoic mother of 3 in an impoverished country, but in reality it could be someone who passed by me at the grocery store while I was crying silently about the cost of tampons.) 

If you're willing to do things that are hard, it means you're passionate and determined to get somewhere. It means you're focused. It means you're pursuing your effing dreams. And that's not bad at all. 

Sometimes you have hard days that are actually shitty. And those are just the days that you buy a box of canned pink wine and watch 10 Things I Hate About You. Twice. 

And then you take a deep breath and know that everything can't get done today. Or tomorrow. And you cut yourself a break. (get it? Cut?) 

(Portrait of me by one of my unintentional attackers. Wine by Pampelonne. Drunk by me)

Also - you don't realize how much you use a thumb until it's incapacitated. You can all now take a moment to be impressed at my mad typing skills.  

Los Angeles Captains Log - Part II

Captain's Log. February 16th. 

It's coming up on 4 months since my first mate and I ventured into this strange and wondrous new place. 
It is a marvelous land.
Opportunity lurks around every corner. 
So far it has presented itself to us in many different ways, from amazing career possibilities to unimaginably good Indian food, to meeting Denzel Washington. 

We found a home in the form of a hillside bungalow in the province of Silver Lake. 
Obtaining a place of residence has improved crew morale dramatically. 
We have furnished it about half way so far. We found a list belonging to a man named Craig that has been very helpful, along with assistance from our Nordic friends, Ikea.

I was told before our journey west that driving in this metropolis was going to be the most difficult part, but that has proven untrue. Parking is the biggest issue. 
Over the weekend, the crew garnered a curb-side, non-metered parking spot downtown and it was universally acknowledged a monumental success.

There is also a surprising amount of walking in this city. 
This could be because the weather seems to be so unflinchingly lovely. 
After the initial heat wave upon our arrival, the 75 degree stationary level has been a dream. We find ourselves doing more outdoors than ever before. Picnics, hikes, bike rides and daily strolls are becoming a norm. 

For unexplainable reasons, I have a new deep love for coconut water and farmer's markets. I find myself seeking out organic and almond milk. 
...and then I stumble across a bakery. Or ten.
We have been making rapid friends as well as connecting with old ones. We find our social calendar bustling with new and exciting events: screenplay readings, comedy performances, flea markets, beach trips, dinner dates, cocktail meetings, vintage music dance parties. 
These are all welcome additions to our schedules, if not our pocketbooks. 

All in all, the crew considers our first quarter here a great success. We both find ourselves adapting to the differences from home quicker than expected, and both feel in our guts that we are on the right track to dream fulfillment. Our partnership has grown stronger, and we feel justice and excitement in the decision we made. 

If only we could do something about the size of our bathroom...

January 12th, 2015

It's officially a new year. 
Well, it's been two weeks, but I live in denial proper. 
While I started the new year hungover with residual glow paint on my face, I've since become more motivated on what I want to accomplish.
I've been thinking about the kinds of goals and resolutions I want to make this year, and the more I ruminate on it, the more they build up. (That also happens when you give yourself too much time to think about it...)

I've got a lot of big plans for you, 2015. 

I'm focusing on the the minor (getting a job) to the important (perfecting the liquid line). 
I'm going stop neglecting this blog and the 10 of you who read it. 
I'm going to write more scripts, be a more patient friend and partner, set mini goals each month. 
I've also decided to start taking vitamins - (what's the one that makes your hair shiny and your skin clear and your metabolism go 500% faster?) 

I thought I would make the resolution to give up drinking, but then I realized that was ludicrous and poured myself a bottle glass of wine. 

I was pondering the idea of body image and how I feel about myself. I decided that instead of resolving to lose weight that I would just focus on being healthier and stronger.
... But then I went to Target and those motherfuckers have swimsuits out already which was basically a neon sign that says "THOSE CHUNKY SWEATERS AREN'T FOOLING ANYONE, YO!"
So it's settled. More salads. Less beer.

I have a lot to do this year. Major steps must be made in my life. 
I live in a new city full of opportunities waiting to be had. I've got to build a home (Not literally - like with Etsy prints & Ikea furniture) and make new friends and figure out an income. 
I still need to finish watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix, and to find a pair of jeans that don't make me feel like Roseanne Barr. 
I need to be more positive and kind. This can be done from donating to good causes to stop hating on things that don't matter, like when couples say "I'm Marrying My Best Friend." 
I'm going to stop spiraling into a self-conscious mental break down every time I accidentally click my phone camera on and it's set on selfie mode. 
I want to embrace farmer's markets and learn a new skill and start wearing anti-wrinkle cream. 

So far I'd say I'm doing pretty well. 
I bought a wallet with "multifunction" in the title and ordered business cards because I am a  strong, sassy business woman on the move. (The Business remains TBD)
I went on a run last week.
I've only lived outside my means for two weeks this entire year! 
Basically I'm crushing it. 

So here's to goals and accomplishing them! 

Let's make 2015 our bitch. 

Oh. And I also need to wake up earlier on the reg. 
And drink more water.
With lemon.
Because I'm worth it. 

Los Angeles Captain's Log

Captain's Log. September 17th. 

We arrived in this strange new land of angels 2 weeks ago today. 

The natives seem friendly enough, but I am suspicious of how interesting and good looking they all seem to be. 

Since our arrival, the city has been enduring one of the worst heat waves in it's history, and I am growing more and more skeptical of this "beautiful" weather I've been hearing about for so long. We have endured electricity blackouts due to heat two days this week, and it has driven myself and the crew to drink. 

The food here is even better than anticipated, and we are overwhelmed by the large amount of gourmet bratwurst restaurants. 

Celebrities roam the streets like some strange alternate universe, and not a day has gone by where we haven't seen one. I am struck by how much they really do look just like normal people. 
It also appears to me that every person in this entire city owns a dog. 

There is an overwhelming health-consciousness in this place, with high priced juice-bars and yoga studios on every corner. The citizens seem to be willing to spend many ducats for inner serenity. I was amazed how easily I fell into this enigma myself, signing up for a new form of torture called "Pop Physique." My muscles are proving weak and unforgiving. 

The bounty of things to do here is limitless, but we find our coin purses weighing less and less. 

The job hunt has proven fruitless so far, but we are keeping morale high. It helps that we have a beautiful place to stay and have found Mexican food nearby that meets our high native standards. 

We find ourselves particularly drawn to two areas here called "Los Feliz" and "Silver Lake" which are drenched in restaurants, book shops & vintage clothing stores. My first mate found me a vintage Cure t-shirt that had in the past been impossible to find. It was a major success for our crew. These neighborhoods are also throbbing with live music and many tattoo-covered natives with a penchant for things unheard of, and seemingly large hat collections. We feel at home here. 

I leave this log now to progress with my day. 
It's been a full hour since my last cup of designer coffee, and I have plans to go see a 17 dollar movie. 
Will write again soon.

Bangarang

1991- I am four years old and obsessed with Peter Pan. Hook is released. I spend the next several years painting on my face, shouting "BANGARANG!" at the top of my lungs, and completely indulging my imagination. 

1992- I'm five. Aladdin comes out. It remains one of the earliest movie theatre memories I have, and one of the most beloved movies in my experience. 

1993- I am in first grade. Euphegenia Doubtfire enters my life. I watch it so much the VHS tape breaks. I start doing voices and impressions even more than before. 

1996- To the dismay of the parents of my fellow 9 year old classmates, I become obsessed with The Birdcage. When I perform Robin Williams' "Eclectic Celebration of Dance" in class one day, I face my first tough crowd. 

1995-8 - A series of childhood favorites are released including Flubber, Jumanji and other 90's fare, all of which I adore. 

Around this same time, I discover Mork's Happy Days reruns, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, and other pieces of his earlier work. Whether an Alien or other-worldly king, Williams continues to make me roll with laughter and inspire my imagination. 

Early 2000's - I am an adolescent. I discover Dead Poets Society, which makes me fall further in love with literature and passion and theatre. I decide to embrace failure instead of fear, and establish a deeply imbedded mentality to seize the day.

2007 - Good Will Hunting makes sense to me for the first time. Imperfections are the good stuff. 

9:53 PM Tonight - I am 1 hour & 2 glasses of wine in to The Birdcage. I am devastated. 

11:07 AM Tonight - I'm a bottle in and crying to Hook. I am feeling so. many. feelings. 

Robin Williams is gone. He's off to Neverland. 

Along with so many others who helped form my sense of humor and encouraged self assurance, Robin Williams made a lasting impact on me and countless others in my generation. He reminded us to be ourselves, to accept others, believe in magic & help those less fortunate. 

His range from to demented to jubilant to haunting to impish covered the widest spectrum of the human condition. He could seamlessly move from subtle to manic with little more than a look. The shaded areas and complexities of his mind that led to his unfortunate passing also led to some of the many performances that we fell in love with. 

He made us feel important and valuable and that we could believe in anything as long as we believed in ourselves. In this article by Paul F. Tomkins, he refers to us all as "Weird Little Kids (and Odd Adults for that matter)," and that's what we are. We're all weird little kids who found a kindred spirit in Robin's eccentric and engaging characters. 

I've been startled at the phenomenal outpouring of emotion through the waves of the internet. There's something strangely unifying about experiencing grief in such a public and connected manner. And while I don't want to dwell on the cause of this loss, I hope this event increases the dialogue concerning mental health, and that people feel they can ask for help.  

"You will have bad times, but they will always wake you up to the good stuff you weren’t paying attention to." - Robin Williams

We've lost an icon. 

He is the nanny. The absent-minded professor. The therapist, the teacher, the clown. He is the boy who won't grow up. He is the Genie, the DJ, the King of the Moon. He is Garp. He is the captain.

"You're only given a little spark of madness, you mustn't lose it."

You were definitely Bangarang, Robin. 

*For more remembrance: Listen to This Podcast , See some recent standup, his full LA Times obituary, along with The Many Faces of Robin Williams. 

Messages from Maya

Last week the world lost a great light with the passing of Maya Angelou.
She has continued to inspire millions across the planet for so long, and her absence will leave a great void. 
But her words remain forever to continue to fuel, motivate and inspire us.
As you may know by now, I am a major believer in the power of quotes, and Dr. Angelou was a true master. 
From her thoughts on confidence to equality to even hot dogs, she had the ability to perfectly articulate a thought. 
I've compiled a bunch of my favorites to serve as a reminder for me and anyone else to keep pushing forward with love, positivity and determination. 

People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

A wise woman wishes to be no one's enemy; a wise woman refuses to be anyone's victim.

If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude.

All great artists draw from the same resource: the human heart, which tells us that we are all more alike than we are unalike.

I work very hard, and I play very hard. I'm grateful for life. And I live it - I believe life loves the liver of it. I live it.

If we lose love and self respect for each other, this is how we finally die.

If you're serious, you really understand that it's important that you laugh as much as possible and admit that you're the funniest person you ever met. You have to laugh. Admit that you're funny. Otherwise, you die in solemnity.

I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels.

The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart.

Love is like a virus. It can happen to anybody at any time.

A cynical young person is almost the saddest sight to see, because it means that he or she has gone from knowing nothing to believing nothing.

I believe that every person is born with talent.

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.

Be a rainbow in someone else's cloud.

Nothing will work unless you do. 

I love a Hebrew National hot dog with an ice-cold Corona - no lime. If the phone rings, I won't answer until I'm done.

Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option. 

Don't let the incidents which take place in life bring you low. And certainly don't whine. You can be brought low, that's OK, but don't be reduced by them. Just say, 'That's life.'

The only thing is, people have to develop courage. It is most important of all the virtues. Because without courage, you can't practice any other virtues consistently.

My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style. 

I hope you all go out and grab the world by the lapels today. 

Deliberation and Inflammation - May Was Not My Month.

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but all of a sudden it's June. 
You may or may not have noticed that I've been absent from here for a little while lately, and the reason for that is that May has not been my month. 
Due to a series of bizarre and unfortunate events, spring has slipped through my fingers. 

It began, as many privileged white-person tales of woe do, with jury duty.
I was assigned to a trial dealing with a domestic violence case and it was one of the worst experiences of my life. 
Being a cog in the judicial machine was nothing short of disastrous. 
Not only did I lose a week of my life (and work and morning runs and time here) to be a part of this wretched position, but my fellow jurors were LITERALLY crazy. 
Ok, not all of them, just one. 
BUT it (she) created a miserable two day deliberation period resulting in a major 12 Angry Men situation (Except ours was more like 11 furious jurors and one crazy woman having a psychotic break) all resulting in a mistrial of one of the charges. 
Yes, seriously.
As God as my witness, I will never be on a jury again. 

During my time in hell (see image that I sent to my friends), I started noticing some pain in my chest.
Once I recovered from my panic and ruled out the possibility of a heart attack, I decided it must be a pulled muscle from falling down roller skating (another story for another time.)
I let about a week go by as the pain escalated and last Wednesday during a performance, it became so excruciating that I was convinced I had broken a rib and it was puncturing every organ inside of me. 
Don't worry, that was not the case. 
(Although I can confirm a moderate to severe case of Hypochondria.) 
What I learned (After my second visit to Urgent Care within 2 months) was that somehow (FALLING DOWN AGAIN) I developed a case of Costochondritis, which is an inflammation of the cartilage in one's rib cage, chest and sternum. 
Sooo that's fun.

But at least I found out I've gained weight. 
And got to spend a big chunk of money on co-pays and medication. 

I've been on an anti-inflammatory regimen (as well as some pretty fun painkillers) and it seems to be going away. 
Until I move too much or breathe too hard. 

Oh yeah, and someone stole my debit card info and made fraudulent internet charges, so I've been dealing with that too. 

Anyway.
That's been my month. That's where I've been. 

Some months just suck, and that's ok. You need them to make you appreciate the good ones, so I'm grateful for that. 
It's shockingly easy to let time slip by, especially when there are unexpected (and time consuming) detours along the way. 
I'm shaking it off and after this post I will cease my moping.  
As shitty as it's been, it's over, it's all uptown problems, and I'm happy to be back to my (relatively) normal life and ready to conquer the summer! 

I've been told that Mercury is in Retrograde and that things should be looking up, so I'm staying optimistic. 

But maybe it's just the vicodin talking. 

A Glimpse Inside My Brain...

What's on your mind lately?

Thank You, Mombo

A lot of people say that their parents are their best friends. 
But mine actually are. 
We're talking multiple phone calls every day/mountains of inside jokes/favorite people in the world kind of best friends. 
So when things like Mother's Day come up, I get a little overwhelmed at where to begin to express my love and gratitude. 

To try to describe my mother is like trying to explain light. 
An intangible, gleaming, beautiful force of nature that illuminates every room she's in.  

She has spent her life dancing on tables and inhaling knowledge and intoxicating everyone she meets with her charm and wit. 
She's always up for an adventure, always ready with an idea, retort, or glass of champagne. 
She's an artist, a feminist, an explorer, a bibliophile, a pioneer. 
She's had more experiences than one person could ever dream of having in a lifetime, and keeps wanting more. 

It's time for Mothers Day. 
And even though my mom is soo much more than a mom, we're supposed to be expressing our gratitude for moms for their work as mothers.

So Mombo, Thank you.


Thanks, Mom.
Thanks for making me hundreds of beautiful hand-made costumes growing up.
Thank you for instilling in me a love of Matisse and Judy Garland and Red Nail Polish. 
Thank you for teaching me that you don't get things without hard work, but it's important to know when to put your feet up. 
Thank you for teaching me how to properly open a champagne bottle.

Thank you for showing me through example how to be an incredible friend, a strong & supportive partner, and a savvy woman. 
Thanks for always letting me know that I could be anything I wanted. 
Thank you for every stunning meal, every girls date, every hug while I cried. 
Thank you for teaching me that beauty comes from within & letting me stay home "sick" when kids were mean to me. 
Thanks for letting me get my ears triple pierced in third grade and for trying to teach me how to dance before the 6th grade formal. 
Thank you for being present in every fathomable way a parent can be there for their kid. 

Thank you for making me a feminist. 
Thank you for showing me the power of big hair and strong opinions. 
Thanks for being a surrogate mom to all of my friends. 
Thanks for teaching me that any bad day can be improved with Gone With The Wind and Häagen Dazs. 
Thanks for all the lullabies and study sessions and late night talks. 
Thank you for teaching me to be myself. 

Thank you for making me always know how safe I was. 
Thank you for always letting me decorate my room any way I wanted.
Thanks for the Canopy Bed. 
Thanks for my car.
Thanks for laughing the hardest at my jokes, editing all my articles, nursing my wounds. 
Thank you for teaching me to be brave. 

Thanks for marrying my amazing dad and you both showing me how relationships should be and what parents should do.
Thank you guys for being my biggest fans.

Basically, Mom, what I'm trying to say is that you're a groovy girl.
Thank you for being the best mom to ever live.
I love you to the moon and back, more than all the tea in China.


Everybody reading this - go hug your mom today.