You say it's your birthday?

For the first time ever since I graduated from fifth grade, I am going to have a birthday party. Yes, it's true. In the past I have been too shy or felt like it was too egomaniacal to have a birthday party, but this year, I am throwing caution to the wind. Howeva, because I want a lot of people to come and boogie down, I want to get a sense of where people would like to go. Here are some options, please leave a comment and let me know your top two:

1. The Standard Hotel rooftop bar - absolutely incredible view. Drinks are slightly pricey, but I am thinking I will get a room, and we can just drink there before we go up.

2. The Red Lion - we could have some small eats at my house before, and then go over to the bar for boots of beer.

3. The Shortstop - we might have to fight crowds here, but it is always a good time.

4. Rollerskating - I don't know where yet, but it could be fun.

5. Other suggestions?

Your cooperation is greatly appreciated. Oh, and if it matters, it would be on the 30th of this month.

Importance of self-importance

(Just a note, due to the political nature of my job, I have to speak in abstractions, so I apologize for the lack of detail.)

Yesterday I had such a miserable day at work that I had to take a mini sabbatical to the beach. It wasn't so much that the work was miserable, it was just the fact that I had to listen to people attack that lovely organization I work for for hours on end. Yes, the big monster bureaucracy sucks. I don't mind people pointing out what is wrong, but I do mind it when they don't have a solution.

At one meeting, I happened to get myself into the position of "dart board." Pretty much everyone at the table started talking at me about what they hate about their school, the reforms, etc. Again, part of my job is to listen, so I didn't mind this so much. But when I asked the people what they would do to change it, they just stared. OK, so, I think we have established that we know shit sucks, but it is hard to clean it up. No one has the answers. We have a lot of things we think might work.

It made me sick to my stomach though, that I was so helpless. There was absolutely nothing I could do at that moment for the teachers I was talking to. All I could do was sit there and respond with I-statements. I understand. I see your point. I know how you feel. I agree. It was the same with the parents at the other meeting. I understand. I know it is a huge problem. I am going to work on that.

At the end of the day, I am usually left with one question: How the hell did it get this bad? Did people not notice when things began to go downhill? When did adults stop doing their job?

I had a wonderful dinner with JJ and CC; but my stomach did not release from the knotted position until I was comfortably settled on a bench on the Santa Monica pier, listening to the waves and folding origami cranes out of tiny pieces of black and white paper. I sat there, focusing on the ocean, thinking about how little we are, how silly all of this is. It was rather existential, really. We're all gonna die. Why do we run around, talking about nothing? What are we doing? Are we doing what we are supposed to be doing with this life? What is it about the human brain that makes us political animals?

I thought a lot about how best to do my job, and what I am up against. Self-importance, while it is a flaw, is vital. If we did not feel important, whether it be in our job or in our relationships, we would all shrivel up into hermit crabs. We have to have a sense, whether it is false or not, that what we are doing, what we have become, is important. We have to believe we are important to someone, the best situation being a 'special' someone who puts us so high on the list we can stop worrying about it.

Last week, I offered to pick #6 up from the west side and bring him out here to the BBQ at the house of Chewie and PBB. He was uncomfortable about it, and repeatedly said he did not want to make me do all that driving. 'It's worth it to me,' I said. Seeing him was important. So important that I did not mind sacrificing a fraction of gas tank to the cause. But I am jumping the gun with #6. It has only been about a month, so he cannot get a priority rating just yet. It's hard though, to keep him from rising to the top.

Emergency plan (a blog in two parts)

(part one, written on Tuesday)
Why am I writing right now? It is 11:30, and I need to wake up ass crack early tomorrow (5:30) to take the cats to the vet for the ol’ snip-snip chop-chop. Oy, those kitties. They are so cute, I love them, but they drive me crazy! I think they (and I) are calming down, slowly but surely. I do enjoy having them around though, ringworm and all. I am learning a lot about how clean I am, that is for damn sure. I have never cleaned so much in my entire life.

I am incredibly nervous, I think, about everything. I have never had to make so many decisions by myself. I have never been responsible for so many things, all at once. I am getting absent minded and tired, and tired because I don’t sleep well at night. Or I don’t sleep well at night alone, that is. When #6 sleeps over, I sleep well. Maybe it is that human presence that puts me at ease. I don’t feel so abandoned.

(part two, written on Thursday)

Today I read a story about how Los Angeles, and the rest of California, could become the next Katrina. (http://www.latimes.com/business/la-me-quake8sep08,0,3035306.story?coll=la-home-headlines)

There is a woman who went to a meeting in May of 2001 to formulate plans for the top three threats to the country’s stability: 1. A major terrorist attack, 2. A major hurricane in New Orleans, 3. A huge earthquake along the San Andreas fault. There are hundreds of thousands of buildings in California, apartments, schools, city buildings, that would crumble in the event of a large quake.

But how do we devote money, time and resources to preparing for something terrible that MIGHT happen, when we have so many terrible things that ARE happening? Yes, we should be prepared, or at least have a plan in case the worst happens. But kids today are dropping out of school like flies, and entire families are squishing into one bedroom apartments with four other families just to save money. How do we divide ourselves?

And, bringing down to a little more personal level (you know I gotta bring it down, yea, yea, yea), how do you prepare for emotional disaster? We go through our own emotional Katrinas every time we get our hearts broken. Time shifts, established self-esteem structures are washed away (sometimes via alcohol, sometimes via ice cream), ability or willingness to trust is smashed. And then it takes time (frequent trips to the gym) and resources (2 pairs of shoes, one super t-shirt, one skirt, usually), to build all that back up. In that process, and when we start the whole cycle again, we usually forget the potential damage that could occur if we don’t play our cards right.

An emergency plan, that is what I need. Be prepared, isn’t that what we learned in girl scouts? Somehow I did not pick up that they were talking about boys (/girls) when they delivered that message.

Strap on those tennies

It is amazing how I can be so optimistic about the world, a very difficult thing to change, and so pessimistic about relationships, something that is easily altered by augmenting my behavior.

But it just. Keeps. Happening.

I feel like a fucking idiot for not being more aware.

Is it luck? Do I set myself up for failure? Why do I keep getting hurt? Why am I always the fucking victim? (I am sure I am not always the victim, but I would bet it averages out to about 97 percent of the time.)

I mean, are they all lined up to sucker punch me in the gut?

And when I do receive the punch, I want to run immediately to the puncher and take back all of the mixes I gave them, take back all of the nice things I said about them, take back those moments when my heart felt like it was about to burst because I was so happy with them. Clearly, all of that was based on a lie.

I keep thinking, how is #6 going to hurt me? Is he going to find someone else, prettier, smarter, someone who has a better knowledge of 40s/50s movies, and run off with her? Why is he with me?

I know I cannot adopt that mentality, that the insecurity alone will be enough to drive him away.

But I really want to crawl into a hole. I don’t want to feel this thing again. I am not sure it is worth it. I would rather the guys just tell me up front that they are going to hurt me, badly. Normally, I like surprises, but I would really appreciate a little warning in this arena.

It looks like it is time for a run.

powerless

Today I went to the gym (for the first time in about two weeks, mind you. Jimmy, I know, I know, but I have been going to ballet and jazz classes inbetween, so I haven’t been a TOTAL slug). At my gym, they have Tvs mounted to the ceiling, one next to the other, so you can watch MTV, CNN and ESPN all at the same time. The juxtaposition of these televisions was never particularly bothersome to me, until today. On CNN, they were showing pictures of the destruction in Mississippi and Louisiana. On MTV, they were showing fresh-faced celebrities, unloading from glistening black limousines, sauntering down the red carpet to the MTV awards. It was strange, seeing two girls, their hair mussed, eyes red, pleading for information about their missing mother next to a smiling Paris Hilton. It made me physically sick.

Maybe it was guilt – I felt guilty about worrying about the little pieces of flab on my tummy while I watched people wade through knee deep water to retrieve bottled water that was being thrown from helicopters. I felt angry thinking about the amount of money what was undoubtedly tossed into producing the MTV awards, the cost of the huge bling that was weighing down Nelly’s neck, and the amount of money it is going to take to rebuild the gulf coast.

Last night I went out with Boy #6 (oh yes, you heard right, #6), his former college roommate, and another of his friends to a bar by #6’s house. We were sitting in this bar, drinking Velvet hammers (Guinness and cider, quite good actually), and Boy#6 leans over:

“I feel so guilty about sitting here, while all that stuff is happening in New Orleans,” he said. “I cannot stop thinking about that.”
“I know,” I said. “I saw a terrible picture of a body just floating down a river. It is almost too much to comprehend.” (or something to that effect, I cannot remember exactly what I said)

We talked about what we had heard that day, and the inadequacy of the federal response to the situation. We also talked about how this whole disaster was a perfect distraction from the “war on terror,” the 850 plus people that were killed in Iraq in a stampede on a bridge, the monsoon that hit somewhere in Asia.

How do we reconcile ourselves to go on living, when so many people are struggling? The rational thing to do is figure out a way to help, so we can sleep at night. So we give money, or we donate clothes, and then we feel better because we did something to flatten that lead ball of guilt weighing down our stomachs. But what happens after that?

Do we keep tolerating a government that has no plan to help those most in need, whether it be from a natural disaster or economic warfare? Do we shrug our shoulders and give up on democracy, because the remnants of this system are fading into an ever-growing capitalist landscape? When did capitalism become our main form of government? And how do we stop participating, when it has become so engrained in our way of life?

We are not powerless to change things.