Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Run Away With Me

Attention fellow Angelenos! (no, I don't care for that term either)

And also attention to my friends out there in Brooklyn and whoever lives near Ohio State Univ.

The Nike Human Race 10k is happening again! This is a worldwide race where humans (that's you!) are encouraged to run 10k. Run alone, run with friends, and if you live in LA, NY, or OH, you can run with a whole big bunch of strangers.

I did this event last year and had a lot of fun.

So why don't you get off your butt and sign up? Oh wait, no don't actually get up because I need you to stay at your computer and go to this website. Or, get off your butt but don't actually leave the area. Maybe you could try standing at your desk, or holding your laptop.

Where was I?

Oh, right. Go to the website and sign up. I don't want to hear your excuses.

But I have never run in a race before...
Why not start now?!

But it says here the race starts at midnight. That's awfully late.

Okay, I admit this nearly stopped me, but then I thought of all of the other trouble I've been known to get myself into at that hour and running around through the streets seemed like a more intelligent choice.

But I don't eat right or exercise regularly and I'm completely out of shape.
Big effing deal. So is everyone else. I manage to work out MAYBE once a week, I never totally gave up smoking, and I just had a large Coffee Bean Mocha Ice Blended with whip cream for lunch.

Hmm. 10k. That seems really far. That's like 6 miles.
Actually it's 6.2. Which is really only like running for an hour. That doesn't make it sound much better. But if you start practicing now and run a few times a week, you'll be there in no time!

No. Really, I can't run that far.
Fine. Can you run 3 miles? Because you can sign up for the 5k too. That's much more manageable.

Alright. I'll run. But I'm not gonna like it.
Why do you always have to be like that? Is there no pleasing you?

I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired and cranky.

You know what will lift your spirits? Exercise!

I knew you were gonna say that.

Friday, August 21, 2009

One Less Car Clogging Up The Freeway

I'm bummed out. In the past year a number of friends have packed up their apartments, thrown a goodbye party, and left Los Angeles for good. They've moved to go to school, to be closer to family, or to just try something totally different (Yes Monaghans who moved to freaking CHINA, I'm talking to you).

In the past week I've found out 2 of my closest girlfriends are leaving. One forever, and one for just a little while.

What's worse is that I know it's only the beginning. Certainly as we get older and more sensible, I'll lose even more friends to the call of A More Affordable Cost of Living. Who wouldn't want a 4 bedroom house with a yard instead of a 2 bedroom apartment with a standing-room-only balcony?

In some ways, I'm right there with them. For as long as I've lived here, I've had this on-going alternate reality fantasy where I live in Liverpool, NY, or Utica, NY (where Devin grew up). I work in the accounts receivable department of a company that manufactures hospital beds or lawn furniture or just some product I don't have to understand or know about in order to do my job. My hours are strictly 9 - 5. Sometimes out at 4 on Fridays! And then we all go out to TGI Fridays for happy hour, where I sip something like a sex on the beach and talk with my coworkers (Bev, Debbie and Carol). We exchange status updates on our kids and I make them laugh with stories of my DIY bathroom remodeling project from heck. At 5:30, I politely decline a second cocktail as I have to pick up the kids from the sitter and get dinner started.

On weekends Devin and I host bbqs. Much like we do now, except that in my alternate reality we have a house with a big backyard and a deck. We invite over our neighbors and Devin's coworkers from the fire department. They all bring their kids, who play with our kids on the slip-n-slide, while us parents drink frozen daiquiris and get mildly drunk.

At night, after the kids are in bed, we watch DVR'd sitcoms with TV-14 ratings, until we start to dose off on the couch. Then we shuffle upstairs (stairs! a second floor! imagine the glory!) and into our master bedroom with a walk in closet and partially remodeled master bath.


So I don't blame my friends who see a different life for themselves and want to give it a shot. Maybe some of them have the secret suburban dream like me. Maybe some of them are just sick of the scenery.

I'm just sad because I'm running out of friends. And it's so hard to make new ones. There are a lot of douchebags out there.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009


That's the word my friend Miriam and I came up with last night to call women who are, well, douchebags.

I'm not a fan of calling women the typical insults. Bitch, slut, c-word. I feel like they are all over sexualized names and also probably thought up by men.

I just want to call her a d-hag without bringing down my whole gender. You know?!

So douchehag. I think it works. It's much less severe than anything else on the table.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Mid Week Activity

Hey, how would you like to go to a party that leads to something good...for once!

Here's your chance!

Fundraiser benefiting the inspiring documentary ‘Defining Beauty’...the road to Ms. Wheelchair America

Brought to you by: The creators of Defining Beauty documentary

Host: Lisa Kline

Special Guest: Peter Wilderotter, President & CEO - Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation

When: Wednesday, August 19 @ 7PM

Where: X Bar – Hyatt Regency Century Plaza

Cost: $30.00 for Industry members who purchase online, otherwise $40 @ the door. Discount code: beauty

Click Here to Purchase Tickets:

Sneak Peek of the trailer: OR

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Meteor Watching: What's Really Going On Here?

Yesterday, in the interminable hours of the late afternoon, my sister IMed me to announce she'd heard about the meteor shower taking place at night. She intended on getting something to drink, staying up late, and watching it.

Simultaneously, it seemed, Facebook erupted with status updates relating to the heavens. "Hey everyone, the perseid meteor shower takes place tonight. Prime viewing hours are 12am-5am." "Hitting the gym and then watching the meteor shower with my girlies!"

The news wasn't John-Hughes-Is-Dead huge, but it was pretty major.

Even my old pal Google was getting in on the action.

I know space is fascinating and mysterious. But I wondered...what's with all the commotion? Are we really this starved for free entertainment and a reason to be outdoors?

We are, aren't we? This is terrible!

In fact, staring up at the stars is the only time we allow ourselves to ponder the enormity of the universe, our own tiny part in it, and ask the inevitable and unavoidable question: Is this it?

I'm not getting any younger, and I've yet to accomplish anything, or even choose a career path. I've been broke all my life with no sign of fortune in my future. Or maybe, like most people, I'm placing too much value on my job and money. And if that's the case, then I should probably do more to help mankind or animalkind or plantkind. Maybe I should quit my job to rescue polar bears or march on Washington for world peace. But if I did that, I wouldn't be able to pay my bills and here we are back at the money issue. Perhaps, then, the answer is to just focus on the people in my life. To work on my relationship and the marriage I'm going to be one-half of in about 50 days. But does that mean I've closed myself off to the outside world?

It's enough to give me a headache. But if I don't take the time to stargaze and have a good think about it, these existential queries just poke their way into my thoughts at inconvenient moments. While I'm typing an email to a client I suddenly stop, and find myself confronted with the questions, "What is the point of this? Really? In the grand scheme of things?" But there's no time to stop and sort it all out. I have to send this email because I just do.

If I pursue the real answers I'll certainly wind up homeless, wandering the streets, mumbling to well-dressed people or carrying a cardboard sign warning them about End Times.

So best to save up the crazy, look up at the sky and wait for the meteors I was promised. And that's exactly what I did last night, after inviting myself onto my neighbor's roof deck. I sat there with him, my sister and her roommate, sipping sake and eating tater tots. Early on, we saw a huge meteor. It shot across the sky with a white tail. We all shrieked and applauded. It's really happening!

But then two more hours passed, and there were no similar sightings. Our spirits faded. My sister was certain if we were further out from the city we'd see more. But how could we get that far away on a weekday. Where would we go?

In the end, we each saw 2 or 3 smaller little streaks in the sky. Each one was an individual sighting, its appearance too fleeting to get the attention of anyone else. "Oh! There's one! Did you see it?" And then a collective "no." Maybe it didn't really happen. Maybe it was just the eyes playing tricks. Or maybe it was meant just for me.

This morning, as I stood in the office kitchen pouring a glass of orange juice, the office coordinator spoke to me from across the room. "There's a metor shower tonight! I think I'm gonna check it out."
"I thought that already happened."
"They say it's happening again tonight."
"Oh. I watched it last night. I barely saw anything. It wasn't that great." Maybe it was because I hadn't had my coffee and I was tired from staying up late. I certainly seemed hellbent on being the downer.

But as I saw her sitting there, positive and perky, at the very desk where I used to sit, I felt like maybe this wasn't the right answer. And so I added, "I did see one or two though. They were pretty. I'm sure you'll see more. I probably just needed to give it more time."