How can I complain? Maybe I have gotten some tickets the past few weeks, and maybe a few things are making me slightly crazy and maybe the scripts I thought I would finally finish NEVER saw more than a two page treatment, but how can I possibly complain?
1. Alex turned 40 and I was able to take him to Club 33, the ALL exclusive Disneyland secret-squirrel fine dining restaurant and spend two fun days at the happiest place on Earth!
2. I had the most beautiful wedding shower thrown by my lovely sister-in-law.
3. I got married :) in Santa Barbara, CA And had an amazing celebration with our little i.c. friends to celebrate!
4. We went to Chicago to do Part Deux of close friends / family celebration and got to spend a little time with everyone there.
5. We tackled and fought the ominous garage beast (long story...trust me) in a weekend of mayhem and won.
6. I watched Baby Noah come into this world...magical.
7. We updated our home in less than six weeks with a little help (well...a lot of help) from our wonderful friends, Mirna and Zoran :).
8. Becky and Brian came for an last-minute, super fun and happy visit just a week before ....
9. I found out I was pregnant!!!
10. And upon finding out I was pregnant, we were able to throw together the fastest planned honeymoon trip to Europe and were able to fit in Paris, Belgrade, Vrnjačka Banja, Skopje AND Munich.
That's not to say all of the fun in-betweens weren't amazing, too. We met a lot of new wonderful friends and lots of fun times were had with old and new exploring, carousing with lots of laughter. Our dad's our doing well for another year and close friends have gotten married, babies are on their way in all different time zones, friendships have been found and renewed and mostly, everyone around us has climbed and conquered and all are happy and healthy with many ending this year full of more happiness and love they could have ever imagined.
May 2011 bring EVEN more love and blessings to you and yours. Be safe tonight!!!!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
OG....
“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”
Og Mandino
Og Mandino
Friday, November 20, 2009
Manifesto
Sleepless.
So much love in this life. There is so much emotion attached to everything, even to people and situations where there should be none. But that's just how some people think. Heart on sleeve -- may not be the safest but that's just who you are. And then you start to figure out who you are not -- and that is sometimes even tougher.
But it makes you start to think, lose sleep and feel restless. It makes you start to question -- not with the endless mind of a kid, but with the open heart and experience of someone who has been living this life for a little while. Personally, you see and feel the effects of good decisions, of being open-hearted to the right people who will love you til the ends of Earth. But you can't apply this to every facet of your existence.
Or maybe you can and you just haven't found the right place to plant yourself.
So much love in this life. There is so much emotion attached to everything, even to people and situations where there should be none. But that's just how some people think. Heart on sleeve -- may not be the safest but that's just who you are. And then you start to figure out who you are not -- and that is sometimes even tougher.
But it makes you start to think, lose sleep and feel restless. It makes you start to question -- not with the endless mind of a kid, but with the open heart and experience of someone who has been living this life for a little while. Personally, you see and feel the effects of good decisions, of being open-hearted to the right people who will love you til the ends of Earth. But you can't apply this to every facet of your existence.
Or maybe you can and you just haven't found the right place to plant yourself.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Great quote:
"The more anger towards the past you carry in your heart, the less capable you are of loving in the present." - Barbara De Angelis
Friday, October 09, 2009
On your TOES!
Dane Shitagi's photography series "the ballerina project," is so captivating! His beautiful photos place modern day ballerinas in various locations in and around New York City. I love the idea of these ethereal beings in their delicate poses in these rough city streets areas (well, not THAT rough, but still) -- the ballerina on the fence looks like she can fly!
Sunday, July 26, 2009
ENGAGED!
As of this last Sunday the 19th, I am now officially girl with Feyonce’ in tow!
Obviously, the past few months have been so difficult and while we have been taking time off and planning a trip in a few weeks, I was a little shocked when Alex asked me if I could take last Monday and Tuesday off. His words, not mine, “We NEED to get away.” Hardly one to say no that, I wistfully took the time off. But where were we going?
When I asked our plans, with a little, “heh heh” under his breath, he said to pack clothes to hike in and dresses to go out in. Hmmm.
We left on Sunday morning for a drive that seemed like we were heading north up the coast. When we turned onto the pike that read, “Yosemite,” I thought we were heading for a camp ground and got really quiet.
Sometime I will write about my last camping experience, but let's just say it is NOT my idea of 'getting away.' More about that another day...but for at least a ½ hour, I was dismally quiet as Alex kept giggling and saying, “Aw...what's wrong??”
Then as we headed up through the mountain passes, I started thinking out loud...”Is this where you are going to throw my body after you kill me?? I mean, really, no one would EVER find me here if you threw me to nature.”
More laughter.
The we started to see mountains and gasp – water falls that just rushed out of the mountains. I started going picture crazy when Alex reminded me there was a lot more to see...
After being in awe of my surroundings, we arrived at our destination and I started to really cry – in happiness.
The Ahwahnee (website words, not mine):
The Ahwahnee shines as Yosemite National Park’s distinctive Four-Diamond hotel. Known for its magnificent façade, and architecture, The Ahwahnee was specifically designed to highlight its natural surroundings, featuring Yosemite Falls, Half Dome and Glacier Point. The destination of queens and presidents alike, The Ahwahnee offers a perfect balance of history, hospitality and elegance.
Kids, this place was more than I could have ever bargained for as a little “getaway.”
We dropped our bags off as our room wasn't ready and started wandering around the grounds. Everywhere we walked, there was something new to be in awe over – mountains surrounded us whist within each mountain there were more waterfalls. Streams were nearby and redwood trees that looked like they reached heaven.
After having nature moments for a ½ hour, we sauntered into the Ahwahnee bar. We each had a glass of the Ahwahnee wine, when I decided to brave it and go for a real cocktail: the El Capatini:
El Capitini – The First Ascent (Classic Size Only)
Absolut Vodka, Cointreau & Pomegranate - “Topped Off” with celebratory Champagne, Sugar Rim & Orange Twist Climber’s Knot This drink “ROCKS”. Created by our bar staff to commemorate the first ascent of El Capitan fifty years ago in November 1958. The climbing party included Wayne Merry, the founder of the Yosemite Mountaineering School. Served with a keepsake carabineer.
Dudes, this drink was NOT for the wusses. A few sips of this and I was a whirling dervish. I was sucking in the great outdoors and all her beautiful natural landscape, laughing with my man and deciding that even I should not continue drinking this...and then Alex said, “our room is probably ready, let's head back to get ready for dinner.”
We headed back and walked down a little woodsy path to our room, absorbing the beauty around us when suddenly, Alex turned to me, started to kneel down as he slid a ring on my finger and said, “Will you be my wife?”
Me: (choking up) YES YES, YES (tears!!) YES!!
The ring fit perfectly. Then the real crying started. Was I dreaming? I couldn't believe it!
Alex then said, “This ring was my mom's engagement ring...she gave it to me for you and only you. You will hear the whole story over dinner.”
It was as if all of these happy emotions, sentimental feelings and a vision of a lifetime had all wrapped themselves up in this little ring and I could not stop staring at it. And now the man who will be my husband was giving it to me.
The more I looked at the ring, the more it made me cry. Tears of joy. Tears of honor. I went to call my Dad – which was a feat in itself as there was little to know phone reception and I was crying like a banshee. As I was talking to him, I heard a familiar, “MAMA” and looked over to see Alex's sister C and one of her little guys sneaking into nearby cottage. She and her brood were going to surprise me for dinner!
That night at our beautiful dinner in the most amazing room in the lodge, C told me that her mother loved jewelry and over then years had gotten some crazy, brilliant pieces but her engagement ring (which W had gotten her in Italy almost 40 years ago next month) was her favorite piece and she'd given it to Alex for me.
I couldn't be happier -- on every level this life is pretty darn beautiful.
Here are some highlights of our beautiful place of engagement!
Obviously, the past few months have been so difficult and while we have been taking time off and planning a trip in a few weeks, I was a little shocked when Alex asked me if I could take last Monday and Tuesday off. His words, not mine, “We NEED to get away.” Hardly one to say no that, I wistfully took the time off. But where were we going?
When I asked our plans, with a little, “heh heh” under his breath, he said to pack clothes to hike in and dresses to go out in. Hmmm.
We left on Sunday morning for a drive that seemed like we were heading north up the coast. When we turned onto the pike that read, “Yosemite,” I thought we were heading for a camp ground and got really quiet.
Sometime I will write about my last camping experience, but let's just say it is NOT my idea of 'getting away.' More about that another day...but for at least a ½ hour, I was dismally quiet as Alex kept giggling and saying, “Aw...what's wrong??”
Then as we headed up through the mountain passes, I started thinking out loud...”Is this where you are going to throw my body after you kill me?? I mean, really, no one would EVER find me here if you threw me to nature.”
More laughter.
The we started to see mountains and gasp – water falls that just rushed out of the mountains. I started going picture crazy when Alex reminded me there was a lot more to see...
After being in awe of my surroundings, we arrived at our destination and I started to really cry – in happiness.
The Ahwahnee (website words, not mine):
The Ahwahnee shines as Yosemite National Park’s distinctive Four-Diamond hotel. Known for its magnificent façade, and architecture, The Ahwahnee was specifically designed to highlight its natural surroundings, featuring Yosemite Falls, Half Dome and Glacier Point. The destination of queens and presidents alike, The Ahwahnee offers a perfect balance of history, hospitality and elegance.
Kids, this place was more than I could have ever bargained for as a little “getaway.”
We dropped our bags off as our room wasn't ready and started wandering around the grounds. Everywhere we walked, there was something new to be in awe over – mountains surrounded us whist within each mountain there were more waterfalls. Streams were nearby and redwood trees that looked like they reached heaven.
After having nature moments for a ½ hour, we sauntered into the Ahwahnee bar. We each had a glass of the Ahwahnee wine, when I decided to brave it and go for a real cocktail: the El Capatini:
El Capitini – The First Ascent (Classic Size Only)
Absolut Vodka, Cointreau & Pomegranate - “Topped Off” with celebratory Champagne, Sugar Rim & Orange Twist Climber’s Knot This drink “ROCKS”. Created by our bar staff to commemorate the first ascent of El Capitan fifty years ago in November 1958. The climbing party included Wayne Merry, the founder of the Yosemite Mountaineering School. Served with a keepsake carabineer.
Dudes, this drink was NOT for the wusses. A few sips of this and I was a whirling dervish. I was sucking in the great outdoors and all her beautiful natural landscape, laughing with my man and deciding that even I should not continue drinking this...and then Alex said, “our room is probably ready, let's head back to get ready for dinner.”
We headed back and walked down a little woodsy path to our room, absorbing the beauty around us when suddenly, Alex turned to me, started to kneel down as he slid a ring on my finger and said, “Will you be my wife?”
Me: (choking up) YES YES, YES (tears!!) YES!!
The ring fit perfectly. Then the real crying started. Was I dreaming? I couldn't believe it!
Alex then said, “This ring was my mom's engagement ring...she gave it to me for you and only you. You will hear the whole story over dinner.”
It was as if all of these happy emotions, sentimental feelings and a vision of a lifetime had all wrapped themselves up in this little ring and I could not stop staring at it. And now the man who will be my husband was giving it to me.
The more I looked at the ring, the more it made me cry. Tears of joy. Tears of honor. I went to call my Dad – which was a feat in itself as there was little to know phone reception and I was crying like a banshee. As I was talking to him, I heard a familiar, “MAMA” and looked over to see Alex's sister C and one of her little guys sneaking into nearby cottage. She and her brood were going to surprise me for dinner!
That night at our beautiful dinner in the most amazing room in the lodge, C told me that her mother loved jewelry and over then years had gotten some crazy, brilliant pieces but her engagement ring (which W had gotten her in Italy almost 40 years ago next month) was her favorite piece and she'd given it to Alex for me.
I couldn't be happier -- on every level this life is pretty darn beautiful.
Here are some highlights of our beautiful place of engagement!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Loss
This is something I NEVER wanted to write – and didn't think I would for many years:
This Friday, it will be a month since the world lost Zora.
Where do I begin?
Zora was Alex’s mother – and mother to Alex’s wonderful sister, wife to their dad and Nana to three of the cutest little boys you’ve ever laid your eyes on. She was also a friend to so many, you couldn’t even count. Everyone who knew Zora understood the groundwork: unconditional, friend to anyone she spoke to, and helper to all.
I will never forget when Alex said to me, “I can’t wait for you to meet my mom…you’ll love her.” In some instances, this would be the greatest red flag to a girl and in my experience it could mean that the umbilical cord has not been cut or that Mama has great hold on Junior. I was a little nervous and cautious but knowing and trusting Alex, I was open. Then I met his mom – and understood.
Zora was like a light force in the Universe. She walked through her life helping, giving, laughing and smiling whilst her goodness was being spread. She was more than Alex could have ever described and yes, I did love her, instantly.
There was no fear of her. She accepted me quickly and when I was put under her wing, I felt like I was in the position of honor.
When I saw Zora and Alex together, I understood. They were as close as a son and mom could be. The two of them could hang around for hours. They talked all the time and they were really good friends. Old pictures of Alex being a little boy dictate this as well. There is a great picture of them from a few years back – they are about a foot apart and Alex’s hands are out in a talking manner and Zora is laughing. It is exactly as they were.
Zora and I always had poignant conversations -- about people, about ghosts and horoscopes, about our lives. I loved when she spoke of her kids and all of the light they brought to her. She knew them in the deepest personal way. Alot of parents lose sight of who their kids really are, but even as adults, she knew both of her kids on a whole other level. They were close friends beyond just being mother and child.
She understood people in general, and as her daughter said, she looked at the good in people -- not that she was naive, but that her focus was on the good parts.
The first Christmas after my mother died, Zora and Alex’s father W invited my father and I to their home in Vegas. My dad is not a person that has ever been guested by strangers, but I assured him he would be comfortable.
Zora not only was the best hostess, but she went out of her way to make Yugoslavian foods that my father hadn’t eaten in years along with enough Potica (Slovenian walnut bread) to send to my siblings.
My father was also touched that Zora brought out my old love of cooking / baking and were like a team in the kitchen…we were literally on the lockdown for hours. But it was never work. We chatted. We laughed. We even cried once or twice. And I learned a great deal in those times behind the scenes…and my father, who again, rarely stayed with strangers, had the best time. He felt at home and laughed with them and enjoyed every minute on his adventure.
The weekend of Father’s day, we were supposed to go visit Zora and W in Vegas. The Monday before (June 15), Alex’s sister called saying no one had heard from Zora all day.
This might seem odd for most, but again, Zora had 100’s of friends…she could be anywhere. But there was something deep down that felt wrong. After W made some calls, we found out she’d been in the hospital ½ of the day. What.the.fuck?
Alex drove out the next morning. I stayed back thinking I would be going out there the following week to help her get back to normal. I thought it was just a little stroke and there would be rehabilitation. I thought I would just be around to help nurse her back to health. I just assumed she would be fine in a few weeks.
By the time Alex arrived, I’d already bought a ticket to fly out. There was a feeling of urgency every time I spoke with another family member. Alex’s sister, whose brood was sick, was also caring for her new 6-week old baby but made the trek with her family.
I can only say those were the two cruelest days I’d ever experienced and watching her family was heartbreaking. When I looked at her two children, who were both the loves of her life, I just wished I could take all of their pain away…
She died the night of the June 17th at 10:22 PM.
The days that followed were just utter craziness. No sleep. A memorial in Vegas. Rushing home, going to work with my head in a dark bucket and trying to digest the emptiness. Tons of flowers, cards and phone calls came. Friends came around and listened, cried and helped SO much. The memorial in L.A. at our house was beautiful, especially when Alex’s sister delivered the most heartfelt, tear-jerking speech about her mother. Our little home was at full capacity. We expected 80 people and got about 130. Neighbors who were virtual strangers came to tell stories of her and her ways of getting involved and helping. Friends cried, family held each just a little closer. Stories were told. There was a little laughter and a lot of tears, along with food, drink and so many desserts, some I’d forgotten about until the next morning…
And then it was quiet.
I had just said a few months back to Bunnie, that the day something happened to Zora, it would be the worst thing her family could go through.
This doesn’t even really cover it. There is SO much more to say.
Having lost my own mother, I know how hard this all is, but with terminal disease, your mourning comes out in different moments, and when the time comes that they are taken from you, there is a strange feeling of peace. You’re sad, but you know it’s inevitable.
This was not anything close. She was only 63. She was so present. She was so involved with so many people in so many ways. She was so full of life, light and love.
While I am so grateful for the time I had knowing her, there was so much more I wanted to learn from her. I am happy that my father and sister and a few close friends knew her and adored her, too but I wanted my other family members and friends to know her. Her children were not through getting great advice, telling her their secrets, laughing with her or getting fed from the best cook on the planet. They weren't through with any part of her. Her friends weren’t done laughing with her, playing penny slots, cooking, getting real estate advice or just advice in general…
I think everyone feels robbed. I know I do.
This Friday, it will be a month since the world lost Zora.
Where do I begin?
Zora was Alex’s mother – and mother to Alex’s wonderful sister, wife to their dad and Nana to three of the cutest little boys you’ve ever laid your eyes on. She was also a friend to so many, you couldn’t even count. Everyone who knew Zora understood the groundwork: unconditional, friend to anyone she spoke to, and helper to all.
I will never forget when Alex said to me, “I can’t wait for you to meet my mom…you’ll love her.” In some instances, this would be the greatest red flag to a girl and in my experience it could mean that the umbilical cord has not been cut or that Mama has great hold on Junior. I was a little nervous and cautious but knowing and trusting Alex, I was open. Then I met his mom – and understood.
Zora was like a light force in the Universe. She walked through her life helping, giving, laughing and smiling whilst her goodness was being spread. She was more than Alex could have ever described and yes, I did love her, instantly.
There was no fear of her. She accepted me quickly and when I was put under her wing, I felt like I was in the position of honor.
When I saw Zora and Alex together, I understood. They were as close as a son and mom could be. The two of them could hang around for hours. They talked all the time and they were really good friends. Old pictures of Alex being a little boy dictate this as well. There is a great picture of them from a few years back – they are about a foot apart and Alex’s hands are out in a talking manner and Zora is laughing. It is exactly as they were.
Zora and I always had poignant conversations -- about people, about ghosts and horoscopes, about our lives. I loved when she spoke of her kids and all of the light they brought to her. She knew them in the deepest personal way. Alot of parents lose sight of who their kids really are, but even as adults, she knew both of her kids on a whole other level. They were close friends beyond just being mother and child.
She understood people in general, and as her daughter said, she looked at the good in people -- not that she was naive, but that her focus was on the good parts.
The first Christmas after my mother died, Zora and Alex’s father W invited my father and I to their home in Vegas. My dad is not a person that has ever been guested by strangers, but I assured him he would be comfortable.
Zora not only was the best hostess, but she went out of her way to make Yugoslavian foods that my father hadn’t eaten in years along with enough Potica (Slovenian walnut bread) to send to my siblings.
My father was also touched that Zora brought out my old love of cooking / baking and were like a team in the kitchen…we were literally on the lockdown for hours. But it was never work. We chatted. We laughed. We even cried once or twice. And I learned a great deal in those times behind the scenes…and my father, who again, rarely stayed with strangers, had the best time. He felt at home and laughed with them and enjoyed every minute on his adventure.
The weekend of Father’s day, we were supposed to go visit Zora and W in Vegas. The Monday before (June 15), Alex’s sister called saying no one had heard from Zora all day.
This might seem odd for most, but again, Zora had 100’s of friends…she could be anywhere. But there was something deep down that felt wrong. After W made some calls, we found out she’d been in the hospital ½ of the day. What.the.fuck?
Alex drove out the next morning. I stayed back thinking I would be going out there the following week to help her get back to normal. I thought it was just a little stroke and there would be rehabilitation. I thought I would just be around to help nurse her back to health. I just assumed she would be fine in a few weeks.
By the time Alex arrived, I’d already bought a ticket to fly out. There was a feeling of urgency every time I spoke with another family member. Alex’s sister, whose brood was sick, was also caring for her new 6-week old baby but made the trek with her family.
I can only say those were the two cruelest days I’d ever experienced and watching her family was heartbreaking. When I looked at her two children, who were both the loves of her life, I just wished I could take all of their pain away…
She died the night of the June 17th at 10:22 PM.
The days that followed were just utter craziness. No sleep. A memorial in Vegas. Rushing home, going to work with my head in a dark bucket and trying to digest the emptiness. Tons of flowers, cards and phone calls came. Friends came around and listened, cried and helped SO much. The memorial in L.A. at our house was beautiful, especially when Alex’s sister delivered the most heartfelt, tear-jerking speech about her mother. Our little home was at full capacity. We expected 80 people and got about 130. Neighbors who were virtual strangers came to tell stories of her and her ways of getting involved and helping. Friends cried, family held each just a little closer. Stories were told. There was a little laughter and a lot of tears, along with food, drink and so many desserts, some I’d forgotten about until the next morning…
And then it was quiet.
I had just said a few months back to Bunnie, that the day something happened to Zora, it would be the worst thing her family could go through.
This doesn’t even really cover it. There is SO much more to say.
Having lost my own mother, I know how hard this all is, but with terminal disease, your mourning comes out in different moments, and when the time comes that they are taken from you, there is a strange feeling of peace. You’re sad, but you know it’s inevitable.
This was not anything close. She was only 63. She was so present. She was so involved with so many people in so many ways. She was so full of life, light and love.
While I am so grateful for the time I had knowing her, there was so much more I wanted to learn from her. I am happy that my father and sister and a few close friends knew her and adored her, too but I wanted my other family members and friends to know her. Her children were not through getting great advice, telling her their secrets, laughing with her or getting fed from the best cook on the planet. They weren't through with any part of her. Her friends weren’t done laughing with her, playing penny slots, cooking, getting real estate advice or just advice in general…
I think everyone feels robbed. I know I do.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
The Gish Sisters
Early screen stars Dorothy and Lillan Gish with their mother, early 1900's.
The Gish sisters in their teens...
The Gish sisters in their teens...
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Turning the page...
on the Bush years!
What a day! After 8 years of bad decisions, embarrassing ideas and a whole lot of problems -- a new day has dawn. It's not to say our new President is not going to have his hands full with cleaning up this mess. It's just nice to feel hope again. And it's good to know the power is with someone who has the confidence and the smarts to lead us properly.
Proud to be an American -- again!
What a day! After 8 years of bad decisions, embarrassing ideas and a whole lot of problems -- a new day has dawn. It's not to say our new President is not going to have his hands full with cleaning up this mess. It's just nice to feel hope again. And it's good to know the power is with someone who has the confidence and the smarts to lead us properly.
Proud to be an American -- again!
Friday, January 09, 2009
REALLY???
Today is just one of those days...
I couldn't sleep this morning. I was up at 4 am and was watching a TIVO'd SVU episode and waiting with bated breath to check my balance in my bank account as I am BROKE and today is payday.
At 5 AM I check and alas, there is not check deposit. WTF, I think! I need money!
I get on with my morning and pull out my favorite t-shirt to wear as it's Friday, but what the HELL is on the front of it? Some alien splatter was all over my beautiful shirt and I had to go the clothing piece number two.
Amazingly, there was no traffic so I thought my bad karma was over. Work was fine.
Payroll said the check would be cut and I would have it in my hands. WRONG. I am leaving at 3 today and was just notified I need to go to our other building to pick it up, but my 3:15 appt is the opposite way -- see where THIS is going??
And to wrap things up, my beautiful, newly filled water bottle spilled all over the front of me. When that wasn't enough, I went sit it back up and it spilled again over the inch of me that was dry. I am now wearing what looks like the escaped fashion victim from a salvation army drop box. BAD BAD BAD!!!
I couldn't sleep this morning. I was up at 4 am and was watching a TIVO'd SVU episode and waiting with bated breath to check my balance in my bank account as I am BROKE and today is payday.
At 5 AM I check and alas, there is not check deposit. WTF, I think! I need money!
I get on with my morning and pull out my favorite t-shirt to wear as it's Friday, but what the HELL is on the front of it? Some alien splatter was all over my beautiful shirt and I had to go the clothing piece number two.
Amazingly, there was no traffic so I thought my bad karma was over. Work was fine.
Payroll said the check would be cut and I would have it in my hands. WRONG. I am leaving at 3 today and was just notified I need to go to our other building to pick it up, but my 3:15 appt is the opposite way -- see where THIS is going??
And to wrap things up, my beautiful, newly filled water bottle spilled all over the front of me. When that wasn't enough, I went sit it back up and it spilled again over the inch of me that was dry. I am now wearing what looks like the escaped fashion victim from a salvation army drop box. BAD BAD BAD!!!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
SCAM ALERT
Acai Berry, Slim Tea and all of the other "trial" for $4.95, etc...
DO NOT DO IT. There are all sorts of scam sites, fines and fees that these companies are hiding in their fine print. I ordered the Slim Tea and minutes later, Alex told me to cancel. A week later, I not only had a $69.95 charge, but a $19.95 charge for something called Fit Factory, something I did not sign up for. It also took weeks to get this stuff removed as their phone number don't always work!!
This has happened to myself and three of my friends who live all over the U.S.!!!
If it's too good to be true, it probably is! AVOID THIS!!!
DO NOT DO IT. There are all sorts of scam sites, fines and fees that these companies are hiding in their fine print. I ordered the Slim Tea and minutes later, Alex told me to cancel. A week later, I not only had a $69.95 charge, but a $19.95 charge for something called Fit Factory, something I did not sign up for. It also took weeks to get this stuff removed as their phone number don't always work!!
This has happened to myself and three of my friends who live all over the U.S.!!!
If it's too good to be true, it probably is! AVOID THIS!!!
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Eternal Memories
It’s been nearly two years and while I never actually spoke of my mom’s death on here, I figured seeing that next week would be her 77th birthday and that a few weeks later is the second anniversary of her death, I thought I would make a simple entry on her behalf:
Thru pictures, I thought my mother had been a movie star – my father, too! I was often confused seeing them in the hideous polyester 70’s smocks in my own reality, but then looking at pictures of them when they were younger in their beautiful clothing, beautiful looks and best poses, I was sure they’d given up their careers to be our parents. My mom looked like a beautiful actress from that time period – a starlet with dark hair, dark, twinkly eyes, flawless skin and a beautiful smile. When she wasn’t smiling, she looked like Ingrid Bergman, a look we all came to know.
My mother’s life was tough as was our life with her. She was mentally ill and it took its evil toll on every facet of her life and our lives. You wanted to hate her sometimes, but you could see the terrible struggle of a woman who truly loved her family, but who also was tugged and pulled by the power of illness.
But that wasn’t all her. She was also extremely gifted: she could draw, paint, and played the piano like nobody’s business. A self-taught piano player who later was in lessons with a superstar piano teacher in Chicago, my mother saved every penny in the early 1950’s to save for her own piano – the piano that is still at my dad’s house and someday I will somehow get here to L.A.
She was also a hero. My brother once fell through a plate glass door nearly severing his finger and maiming his arm. My mother carried him almost two miles to a hospital. This is one of the many times where she played doctor, nurse, cook, maid, problem-solver, etc.
My mother loved her own children, but even more so, her grandkids. She never held back on her time with them and taught them to cook, how to clean up after themselves, and loved taking them on adventures. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for those kids.
But her Catch 22 was when one illness seemed to lie dormant, a bigger monster was waiting for her. I knew when I moved to L.A. that her forgetfulness was becoming more obvious, that her gait seemed to be thrown off and that her eyes were starting to look dimmer. Every visit home seemed to give more clarity to that fact and when I called her doctor that fateful day, I knew what his answer would be. My mother’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s threw us all into such a frenzy as we’d just moved on from one big illness.
After things had gotten so bad and she was placed into her wonderful, loving nursing home, we knew time was becoming more precious and anything that we’d known before, mostly the bad stuff, made way for a new peace and understanding of our mother who was slowly fading away.
I saw her for my last time on Thanksgiving of 2006. Alex had come home with me for the first time to meet my family and we’d spent every day at the nursing home. I am so grateful they met each other.
Our final moments were quick and sweet, with a hug that felt so deep and soulful, but left me with deepest, heaving weight in my heart for the weeks leading to her death. I knew deep down it was all imminent.
She passed the day before the new year.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her: sometimes it’s happy, sometimes it’s sad. Sometimes it’s guilty and other times it’s just breezy, like she is here with me.
I feel like the best gift you can give a parent is a to live a good, solid, interesting life, full of love and light. Every day I hope I am doing a good job.
Losing a parent is going to happen to everyone – appreciate them and all of their idiosyncrasies while they are here.
'I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life” – Maya Angelou
Miss you...
Marilyn Zalokar December 11, 1931 - December 30, 2006
Thru pictures, I thought my mother had been a movie star – my father, too! I was often confused seeing them in the hideous polyester 70’s smocks in my own reality, but then looking at pictures of them when they were younger in their beautiful clothing, beautiful looks and best poses, I was sure they’d given up their careers to be our parents. My mom looked like a beautiful actress from that time period – a starlet with dark hair, dark, twinkly eyes, flawless skin and a beautiful smile. When she wasn’t smiling, she looked like Ingrid Bergman, a look we all came to know.
My mother’s life was tough as was our life with her. She was mentally ill and it took its evil toll on every facet of her life and our lives. You wanted to hate her sometimes, but you could see the terrible struggle of a woman who truly loved her family, but who also was tugged and pulled by the power of illness.
But that wasn’t all her. She was also extremely gifted: she could draw, paint, and played the piano like nobody’s business. A self-taught piano player who later was in lessons with a superstar piano teacher in Chicago, my mother saved every penny in the early 1950’s to save for her own piano – the piano that is still at my dad’s house and someday I will somehow get here to L.A.
She was also a hero. My brother once fell through a plate glass door nearly severing his finger and maiming his arm. My mother carried him almost two miles to a hospital. This is one of the many times where she played doctor, nurse, cook, maid, problem-solver, etc.
My mother loved her own children, but even more so, her grandkids. She never held back on her time with them and taught them to cook, how to clean up after themselves, and loved taking them on adventures. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for those kids.
But her Catch 22 was when one illness seemed to lie dormant, a bigger monster was waiting for her. I knew when I moved to L.A. that her forgetfulness was becoming more obvious, that her gait seemed to be thrown off and that her eyes were starting to look dimmer. Every visit home seemed to give more clarity to that fact and when I called her doctor that fateful day, I knew what his answer would be. My mother’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s threw us all into such a frenzy as we’d just moved on from one big illness.
After things had gotten so bad and she was placed into her wonderful, loving nursing home, we knew time was becoming more precious and anything that we’d known before, mostly the bad stuff, made way for a new peace and understanding of our mother who was slowly fading away.
I saw her for my last time on Thanksgiving of 2006. Alex had come home with me for the first time to meet my family and we’d spent every day at the nursing home. I am so grateful they met each other.
Our final moments were quick and sweet, with a hug that felt so deep and soulful, but left me with deepest, heaving weight in my heart for the weeks leading to her death. I knew deep down it was all imminent.
She passed the day before the new year.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her: sometimes it’s happy, sometimes it’s sad. Sometimes it’s guilty and other times it’s just breezy, like she is here with me.
I feel like the best gift you can give a parent is a to live a good, solid, interesting life, full of love and light. Every day I hope I am doing a good job.
Losing a parent is going to happen to everyone – appreciate them and all of their idiosyncrasies while they are here.
'I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life” – Maya Angelou
Miss you...
Marilyn Zalokar December 11, 1931 - December 30, 2006
Saturday, November 29, 2008
SAVED
As most people who know me know, I hate hard candy. Besides not being anything remotely pallet satisfying to me, I have always had a total fear of choking, something I was just discussing on Thanksgiving Day when presented with some French hard candies.
Today we ran to Costco and then I did trader Joes run. Nothing eventful at all. We were hanging around the house. E called me and I was talking to her when the phone died out. Just as I was waiting for her to call me back, I saw my vitamins and figured I would pop one while waiting.
I have been taking vitamins for years. It seems the more organic they are, the horsier they become. But like most things, you grow used to the size of the pill and know what to expect. I have grown so accustomed to these particular, horse sized pills that I typically don’t drink anything until afterwards – I just pop one.
As soon as the pill hit my throat, I knew it was bad. It fell right onto my windpipe and I immediately felt the air stop, the blood rush to my face and panic setting in. I was in our kitchen and Alex was in the living room. I drank a little water but that only seemed to exasperate the situation. Those seconds felt like an eternity and since I could not speak, moan or scream and was too panicked to move, I started hitting the counter with my hands as hard as I could.
Alex wasted no time as I know he saw my panic as I was banging like a crazy person on the counter. Without a moment to lose, he hit me on the back and then grabbed me and performed the Heimlich maneuver. I felt the pill come up and threw it up in to the sink. And then I breathed in like I had never done before. Then I cried.
I have no idea what I would have done had he been down the hall in the shower or worse, not been there at all.
It’s been a few hours and every time I think about it, I get choked up – the “what if’s.” One of my worst fears WAS the worst. Much worse, it got me thinking about folks who take these monster pills and have no one there to help them in cases like this one.
Today it was scary. I am SO shaky and freaked out but my amazing boyfriend was my hero. Today I am so thankful.
Today we ran to Costco and then I did trader Joes run. Nothing eventful at all. We were hanging around the house. E called me and I was talking to her when the phone died out. Just as I was waiting for her to call me back, I saw my vitamins and figured I would pop one while waiting.
I have been taking vitamins for years. It seems the more organic they are, the horsier they become. But like most things, you grow used to the size of the pill and know what to expect. I have grown so accustomed to these particular, horse sized pills that I typically don’t drink anything until afterwards – I just pop one.
As soon as the pill hit my throat, I knew it was bad. It fell right onto my windpipe and I immediately felt the air stop, the blood rush to my face and panic setting in. I was in our kitchen and Alex was in the living room. I drank a little water but that only seemed to exasperate the situation. Those seconds felt like an eternity and since I could not speak, moan or scream and was too panicked to move, I started hitting the counter with my hands as hard as I could.
Alex wasted no time as I know he saw my panic as I was banging like a crazy person on the counter. Without a moment to lose, he hit me on the back and then grabbed me and performed the Heimlich maneuver. I felt the pill come up and threw it up in to the sink. And then I breathed in like I had never done before. Then I cried.
I have no idea what I would have done had he been down the hall in the shower or worse, not been there at all.
It’s been a few hours and every time I think about it, I get choked up – the “what if’s.” One of my worst fears WAS the worst. Much worse, it got me thinking about folks who take these monster pills and have no one there to help them in cases like this one.
Today it was scary. I am SO shaky and freaked out but my amazing boyfriend was my hero. Today I am so thankful.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Imagining things just a little differently...
Today I went on an emergency hike (a light one since I am still slightly gimpy) with a good friend who was having the rottenest kind of day – you know, one of those 'holy crapshoot, if I don't get out into the woods I may combust" kind of things.
She and I got to talking as we always do, about how if you had your choice of day jobs (not the fantasy ones like being a full-time, highly paid screenwriter, an ice cream taster for Ben and Jerry's, having your own cooking show or hell, a starlet with nothing to do but be pretty, get prettier and find ways to maintain pretty -- I could go on for hours and haven't even gotten to my science nerd / astronomy / paleontology fantasies), but real day jobs that you can REALLY do.
I noted that besides my purely condensed hate for my commute and the fact I still do like my present day job, I would still travel the distance for my fantasy jobs -- mine being doing massage 2-3 days a week for a reputable chiropractor – and the other two days? Being a dog walker. For real. Oh, I would throw in there an occasional class or maybe an extra job if need be, or I could even thin out my fat butt to teach fitness classes again (a big love of mine) but I think those would combine two things I love and give me more time to do other things I neglect. The last thing I want to do these days after sitting in front of a computer is to come home and sit in front of the computer to write. And it wouldn't be forever...but it'd be a fun, temporary change!
But this would all have to fit together in a way that made sense and since I do have debt, it would have to work monetarily.
But a girl can dream.
She and I got to talking as we always do, about how if you had your choice of day jobs (not the fantasy ones like being a full-time, highly paid screenwriter, an ice cream taster for Ben and Jerry's, having your own cooking show or hell, a starlet with nothing to do but be pretty, get prettier and find ways to maintain pretty -- I could go on for hours and haven't even gotten to my science nerd / astronomy / paleontology fantasies), but real day jobs that you can REALLY do.
I noted that besides my purely condensed hate for my commute and the fact I still do like my present day job, I would still travel the distance for my fantasy jobs -- mine being doing massage 2-3 days a week for a reputable chiropractor – and the other two days? Being a dog walker. For real. Oh, I would throw in there an occasional class or maybe an extra job if need be, or I could even thin out my fat butt to teach fitness classes again (a big love of mine) but I think those would combine two things I love and give me more time to do other things I neglect. The last thing I want to do these days after sitting in front of a computer is to come home and sit in front of the computer to write. And it wouldn't be forever...but it'd be a fun, temporary change!
But this would all have to fit together in a way that made sense and since I do have debt, it would have to work monetarily.
But a girl can dream.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Iraqi’s have $80 billion dollars and we have swill….
So here we are again, watching the DNC, and I am back in tears – I am moved. Obama is making me hopeful. He is making me think. I believe him because, quite simply, he not only gets it but he’s been there. He has seen the true middle class first hand. He has worked with people who were truly down and out and watched them crawl out of their holes. There is something so sincere and deep down heartfelt about his approach that I can’t imagine that we are going to have ANOTHER 8 years of selfish, rich, clueless people that are going to wreck us. Our economy can't take it. Our people can't take it.
I have so much hope. I hope others feel this resonating in them, too.
I have so much hope. I hope others feel this resonating in them, too.
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