I voted in person for the first time!

Since I have always voted absentee ballot...I have never had the chance to walk in and vote. Well today changed all that. I was so excited. I woke up at 5:45AM, got dressed, and drove over to the church down the street. There were about 100 people in line ahead of me at 6:45AM and it was RAINING (I know, California...what's up?)

I took my trusty clear swatch umbrella and stood in line. Going over my sample ballot, making sure I knew my props....really it was very magical. My favorite moment was just before I made it inside, my friend Greta from NY texted "I just changed America."

I teared up.
I voted!
My chads were not hanging!
It was a glorious day!

I think I'm in love....

I miss bread!

It's official. I have not had a piece of bread in 170 days.
(The piece of bread I ate to soak up the vodka in Vegas doesn't count..since I don't remember that night at all!)

I miss it. I miss the grains, and the flour, and the soft yummy goodness that a good piece of bread brings.

In my fantasy I would live in a house made of focaccia and eat my way out of it.

Right now, I would parade up and down Ventura Boulevard without my shirt for a good piece of Challah!

At this moment, if I had to choose between Obama, McCain, or seven grain...I choose seven grain.

You Smell Like A Stripper

Ok, this is why I am not so thrilled about dating these days. Why bother? Last night I go out on a date. Makeup= good. Dress= cute. Skin= dry...so I put some lotion on. The guy picks me up and this is how the conversation went down.

Guy: You smell like a stripper.
Rachel: (Looks at him with shock and disbelief)
Guy: Why is that bad?
Rachel: Are you kidding me?
Guy: You try to give a girl a compliment...geez.

This is why I am still single.

The reason I haven't written...

NO! I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING...it's not because I have been shacking up with some guy....that would be nice. NO! It's because I have written and produced my own webseries. We just finished shooting this past weekend. This is the first pic from the set I wanted to publish, since Marc (the guy on the right) is one of the people who convinced me to just write the show. Come to think of it, he is the one who got me to start writing a blog.
Why does he always want me to write?
Why do I listen to him?
Thanks Marc.

Saying Goodbye to Michael

Michael and I went to acting school together, he moved to LA, got a job in my office, apartment next door, and basically has been my gay husband for the past 6 years.

Today is his last day in the office. It's not funny. It's sad. He moves to Chicago in a month.

I don't do well with goodbyes.

Facebook. My own little surprise party.

So what I have realized is Facebook is like crack! I am completely addicted..and the shockers keep coming.

I am now in touch with probably one of my oldest friends who I haven't seen in years. Heidi Parcharsky. She is a photographer and lives in New Mexico. We chatted last night. SO MUCH FUN!! I mean this girl and I haven't talked in a LONG TIME! How in the hell would I be able to find a friend from preschool if it wasn't for Facebook.

I have also been able to find ex-boyfriends, and become a little bit of a stalker without them knowing it. Seeing who they are dating now, who has turned gay, who is dating one of my other ex-boyfriends. That's been fun.

Though it gets a little crazy since everyone out there is a doing the same thing. I took my relationship status and changed it from "single" to nothing. But on everyone's news feed, it read "Rachel is no longer listed as single" Well, I got so many phone calls, emails...everyone was so excited that I found someone, and for a brief moment I was excited and thought I WAS dating someone. Maybe in my Facebook world I am dating someone. Hell, I'm married with three kids and live in New York. My dog's name is Sugar Bear.

Flirting with Judaism

Ahhh, so we did it again, the single Jew Crew headed out for a night of single frolicking fun last week. As soon as I walked into the Chinese restaurant where the event was being held, I overheard this guy flirting with this girl. The guy says, "I can read you like the Talmud." I did a double take. SERIOUSLY?
I CAN READ YOU LIKE THE TALMUD?!?!?!

In all of my years of Hebrew Academy, Yeshiva, and studying in Israel, I have NEVER heard something so ridiculous! So that told me where this night was headed, and I proceeded directly to the bar. Now, as we all know, I am doing the "diet detox" so I have not had a drink since the cruise. 2 1/2 Vodka sodas later (yes I am allowed to have vodka), and I was a little drunk to say the least. I am not sure that the Vodka made the night any better, but it certainly didn't hurt. My friend and I were sitting at this table in the midst of the "Jewish Festivities" and he said that we both are going to get up from the table, meet someone, get a number, and then report back.....Well, he got up, I got up, I got dizzy from the vodka, and I sat right back down.

Lessons:
1. My college days are done, vodka is no longer the way to a man's heart.
2. The Talmud is fair game for a pick-up line.

The Notebook (RLC edition)

Last night I went for sushi at my favorite sushi place, Katsuya, with my friend. As we are munching on our creamy salmon cut roll (my favorite), my friend begins to tell me a story of how someone at her work who is in her 50's or 60's dated this boy when she was young. Her parents didn't want her to see the boy, so they sent her to a different country to go to school.

Seperated from her love and not able to receive his letters, they go their seperate ways. They both end up marrying other people and raising families. She divorced, he lost his wife to illness, and now after 40 something years, they found each other, have rekindled their love and are getting back together.

"Holy Crap!" I exclaim with tuna tartare flying out of my mouth...Maybe that can happen to me!! Maybe there is a chance for me to rekindle love for one of my old childhood sweethearts!!! And then in one fell swoop, the reality hit me.

All of my childhood sweethearts are gay.

Figures.

Hanukkah in August and my ass in a Gospel number

So, last night my office produced a Hanukkah special for PBS. The show was beautiful and stunning and will air on PBS in December. But the real treat for me happened in the dressing room at the end of the night when Joshua Nelson and his Gospel Choir sang a little ditty about how good I was looking. (Thank you exercise and detox.)

Let me tell you, when you have an amazing gospel choir singing a song about your ass, you know that you're clearly on the right path.

Rachel's Breakfast Club

Alright friends, so I am braving the singles scene yet again. My friend Monica just moved to town and said that she wanted to get out there and meet people, so I said, "Bring it on"! Yes indeed, I am going to another young singles-type event on Saturday. I know! 2 in two weeks, I'm like Tila Tequila!!! Let's all absorb the shock of Rachel's burgeoning social calendar, and move on...

To the theme...It's an 80's themed night. Now, I looked like crap back then (Though I did rock a high side pony wrapped with a flourescent scrunchie). So what do I do? Dress the part, relive my prom nightmares, and feel like an idiot? Or screw the theme, dress sexy, and be "not with the party spirit"? Ah...decisions decisions.

The real question, of course, is will I meet some guy like Duckie who will charm the pants off of me, or is Jake Ryan going to buy me a drink at the bar? Or maybe even some hot brat-packer who I didn't even know existed will be waiting in the wings!!! So many 80's references, so little time...

5.8, Sex, and tears

You know, I have lived in LA for awhile now, and the one thing that still scares the crap out of me is these earthquakes. This one today felt like it wasn't going to end. It was long and it shook me hard. Like a good man on a 5th date. Anyway, I can't believe people just carry on with their daily lives during these things. I spoke to one guy who was in the shower when it happened, one couple I know was having sex, and another couple was having sex IN THE SHOWER. What did I do? Cried. People had sex and I cried....typical.

Let's stop polluting our earth...for my feet's sake.

Yesterday, I decide to go to the Santa Monica Beach for some relaxation with my friends. Just so you know, I am NOT a beach girl...sand in EVERY crevice....salt water after I have shaved (do you know what that feels like?)...the whole thing doesn't really speak to me..but I do LOVE the ocean, and I am trying to spend more time outside.

Well, within 5 minutes of sitting down, my feet were covered in this black crap called TAR, which apparently doesn't come off. It was like a complete layer of black goo covering my feet..kind of like in Spiderman 3 when Tobey Maguire was covered in that black goo that made him stronger and meaner. The tar didn't make me strong, but it did make me mean. It pissed me off. So please people, lets start cleaning up after ourselves so it doesn't ruin my pedicure.

Rachel of the above

Sorry I haven't blogged in a few days! In case you don't read the LA Times...I got a Mac Book! It's BEYOND fantastic, and it goes great with my skin tone.

So as promised...I will now show you how I tackled and conquered my biggest fear on the cruise! (no I am not talking the midnight buffet, sillies!) I am talking about flying through the rainforest like a monkey on a string (is that a song title? if not, it should be.). Looking at the pics, I don't look nearly as terrified as I thought I was. But hey, I am an actress...you point a camera at me, I'm gonna smile, even if I'm dangling 100 feet in mid-air.

Seriously, though, The Canopy Adventure was one of the best experiences of my life. The scenery...beautiful (at least what I saw when I had my eyes open). My dear friend, Ian, was there to deal with my tears, and there were a lot. But when it was all said and done...PRETTY FREAKIN' COOL. If I continue to do soemthing every day that scares me.....who knows where I will be a year from now! (possibly an insane asylum, but I promise I'll continue to blog from there.)

Wanna see all the pictures? Click here.

I went to a singles event and LIKED it.

So, last night I went with one of my friends down to Santa Monica for a singles party. Happy Hour on a Sunday night? Love you, LA!!!

Anyway, we go to this bar, me with my detox-friendly club soda. It was SO low key and friendly. Everybody was introducing each other to everyone else. The cynical and bitter ball of angst in me wants to give you some horror story, or at least some stupid anecdote about how I dropped my drink, slipped on it and fell on my ass...but I truly had a really nice time.

Granted, I'm as single now as I was before I went to this thing, but I consider the fact that I had a good time to be triumph enough for now.

Once again...baby steps.

No more rest for the single girl...

Yes, I am venturing back into a social life. Waking up from my lame-ass hibernation and jumping head first back into the world of sex and singles events. This one that I'm going to this weekend could be fun. Everybody needs to bring a member of the opposite sex who's also single, so its even. And then we'll pick teams and play dodgeball. (kidding, but I'm bringing knee pads just in case. They always come in handy:) Hopefully the night'll be more like an orgy, just without the sex. Or hell, with the sex!

You know, I was messing around on Facebook and saw that this girl had started a group for her friends to find guys to set her up with. Too much, right? But then I kinda started thinking that I should start up a group of my own...maybe even a couple of groups in different cities, and we can have contests and the winner gets to fly me out for a weekend!

Or maybe we'll just see how this weekend goes, and take it from there. Baby steps, Rachel...baby steps.

I am not following any rules today!

Retaining Bitterness

So this morning, I have to "weigh in" for an informercial that I am going to be shooting. Okey doke, I think, I actually lost a pound on the cruise 2 weeks ago, and this past week I have been perfect and worked out diligently. Results should be through the roof, right? Well, I lost ONE FREAKIN' POUND. So annoyed! I work my ass off all week, and all I get is one freakin' pound. So basically, I could've gone on another cruise and gotten the same result? Yeah, I know I have my period right now and I'm retaining water as though I were the cruise ship itself...but still.

You're thinking Rach, you still lost weight. Who cares? Seriously, though, everyday I tote my little blue cooler around everywhere I go. I am living on chicken and Hummus and cucumbers. Which might sound good but gets old. No sugar, no dairy. No fun.

Whatever.

Oh, and get this. They measured me this morning. Yeah, I lost inches..IN MY BOOBS. Why can't I retain water there? F-ing biology.

Don't fill the space!

I am closing out my tribute to the Disney Cruise with this beautiful rainforest in Puerto Vallarta in which I actually flew from tree to tree on a zipline, as though I were a Puerto Vallartan monkey. A very sexy and graceful Puerto Vallartan monkey (which I will definetly blog about later, when the pics come in).

More importantly, what I was able to do on this cruise is clear some space: in my mind and in my heart. I couldn't check my cell phone or email for an entire week, so I was actually able to relax and sit with my own thoughts. I came to some big realizations that I am starting to work through now, and my challenge is, now that I am back in "the real world", to keep from filling the space with the everyday BS that never fails to clutter my head.

I think that having a vacation with yourself every so often is the spring cleaning for your brain. Which turns out to be a little easier than trying to clean my filthy apartment.

Chocolate Boy

So it turns out that when you go on a cruise, you spend most of your time stuffing yourself. Now, I stayed away from buffets of ALL sorts since I was still "detoxing" (see earlier blog for definition), but I have to say that the chocolate buffet was a sight to be seen. Now since I couldn't eat the chocolate, I decided to take a picture of it to get my satisfaction. Kind of like watching porn when you're not gettin' any. (not that I've ever watched porn! I've just heard about it.)

So as I'm lining up the perfect shot, this adorable little boy wanders into the frame, and my inner Annie Leibovitz took over. He wanted his picture taken with his chocolate. And yes, his concoction looked amazing, but his excitement about being photographed was even better. So to the little chocolate boy who made me smile, this is for you...

Cover of Time Magazine, anyone? Or at least Bon Appetit?

I want to go to Towel Origami School!

One of the great things about a cruise is the special touches that make you giggle. (No, you filthy people, not those speical touches.) I am speaking, of course, about Towel Origami. In my years of travelling, I have had many a towel animal placed on my bed. I mean, we're talking a full safari between my sheets.

Who thinks up this stuff? Is there a towel origami school? Do you get a diploma at completion? What happens if you fail? Do you just go back to paper origami? Ahh, the shame.

My favorite picture from the cruise

A single Jewish girl cruising with a mouse!

My friend Ian, a senior officer on the Disney Cruise Line, asked me to sail with him for a week. A free cruise?!? Wait, but with Mickey Mouse? Hmmm...so, a boat filled with families and gay men. But still, a free Disney cruise? Yeah, I'm down.

Well, it was unbelievable. The ship was beautiful, the crew treated everyone like royalty, the food was amazing, and I got a kick-ass tan. I have to tell you...I stayed on my detox (minus a few vodka and sodas that my nutritionist said I could have) and actually LOST a pound during the cruise! Woo hoo!!! I highly recommend this trip to ANYONE who has kids and wants to have a magical experience. Or to any single girls without kids who enjoy their vodka sodas and being treated like a princess.

Over the next few days, I will give you highlights...Stay tuned for my terrified zipline experience through the rainforest in Puerto Vallarta, and my deep conversation with Pinocchio.

My bikini waxer's name is Giao (pronounced YOW!)

Enough said.

Invitation to Disappointment Mailbox Letdown

So yesterday, after a long hard day of work, I get home, go to my mailbox, and find a big fat envelope. Well, with my birthday coming up in 2 days, I got a little excited. Could be a sweet little note, could be cash, could be a gift card...Hell, it doesn't matter that I don't have a man! Screw that! I am single and loving it, and my friends love me and send me birthday cards!

I get into my apartment, plop down on the couch, and tear into my fabulous birthday card like it's a pound cake fresh from the oven. Who could it be from? What could it say?

I open the envelope, and it's a wedding invitation. A friggin' wedding invitation. Yet another event to which I won't have a date.

Happy freakin' birthday to me. Wow do I need a drink.

So I put an ad on Craig's list...

I posted an ad on Craig's list for babysitting. You know, a girl needs some spending cash, what with this impending strike. Well, I got this response today from the ad...

"Sounds like you would make an awesome girl friend too. I wish I could use you but instead I will flirt with you and say good luck."

Show of hands. Who is checking out the child care ads to find a date? That's what I thought.

Although, my birthday is in 4 days and I still don't have a date to my party. I couldn't, could I? (I might.)

My wedding dress made out of toilet paper

Don't shit yourself! I'm not really getting married! Just thought this was cute. Knowing me, I'd spill champagne on it at my wedding and the whole damn thing would fall apart!

I am bathing in Tiger Balm

So, I'm on this new exercise program, and I think I worked my legs a little too hard yesterday, because I can't walk today. No, I'm not exaggerating. It took me 20 minutes to climb the stairs, and I nearly burst into tears trying to sit on the toilet.

I am now using the mentholated genius that is Tiger Balm. Have you ever used this stuff? I smell like a dentist's office exploded in my pants. Seriously, you don't know how powerful this stuff is until you put 1/2 of the container on your legs. It may 103 degrees in the valley today...but my legs are comfortably numb.

I miss Sushi. This detox is a pain!!

See that bruise? It's from pole dancing!

This weekend I went with "my girls" to a pole dancing exercise class. Yes, pole dancing. And I have to tell you, I have a newfound respect for strippers (to augment the respect I already had), because that is ONE F-ING HELL OF A WORKOUT!!!

So, the class started off in a good place. It was pretty cool because you're getting in touch with your sensuality, exploring your comfortability with yourself...all good stuff, all fine and good.

And then we get to the pole. That's apparently where my comfortability with myself comes to a crashing, bruising, violent halt. You take one foot and wrap it around the pole while swinging and grabbing the other leg to hold your body on the pole. It's like Gumby doing the hokey-pokey. (if Gumby was a stripper.)

Well, after all the other girls did it, it looked easy enough, and hell I danced for 16 years, I can do anything! So, I step up to the pole, put my hands in position, swing around, and bang my shin so FREAKIN hard I almost started crying right there! Sensuality my ass! I feel more sensual during electrolysis. And this was the BASIC pole trick, the basis for all further pole dancing, and everybody could do it... BUT ME!!!

If this was A Chorus Line, I would be Tricia (she's the first one to get cut after she sings " I really need this job". And you know what, I PLAYED Tricia once!!! Oh, I hate how the universe knows me so well sometimes!!!).

17 Days and counting

Just for the record, at the adult pool, they have a swim up bar and a jacuzzi. I'm in heaven.

Just in case you didn't believe me...#46

I'm in the new Camp Camp Book

I donated many pictures and stories to this book.

My favorite is the two page "Purity Test" (do you remember that?) Ahh...the 100 question test we took at camp to find out how slutty we all were.

I actually wrote in the word "oral sex" next to the question "gone 69" since I didn't know what it meant. Yeah, I got a virginal 83 on the test.

Sweaty Love

When I am at the gym, I am really just there to work out. I don't wear cute little tops, even though I have my cool Lulu Lemon pants (which are FANTASTIC by the way), but I don't put on makeup because I'm not thinking that I will meet a guy. My skin is pasty, I'm sweaty, and I make weird noises when I lift weights...so if anyone is attracted to this hot mess in the course of a workout, I am going to be shocked.

But today, my world was turned upside-down. I met a cute Jewish guy. He actually made me self-conscious about my outfit choice and then I thought...did I brush my teeth this morning? (the answer is yes.) (I think.)

The great thing about meeting someone at the gym is that I am looking and acting as disgustingly awful as I possibly can, so if you still want a piece of this after I drip sweat all over your body and you hear me grunt and yell 'C'mon baby, you can give me one more!!!'...MARRY ME!

Can a single girl make her bed?

I am a pretty independent woman. (both pretty, and independent.) I have lived alone for 10 years, and I can do everything on my own...except FOLD MY BEDSHEETS!! If you are "vertically challenged" (short) such as I am, you know that it is nearly impossible to fold the bedsheets without them touching the ground. So, I try to lay the whole thing out on the floor to fold it, but then it gets filthy...ok I am not much of a cleaner, so the carpet was pretty gross. What this comes down to is...I need someone to help me fold my sheets.
I thought I was trying to get a man in my bed, not get a man to help me make my bed.

Universal Studio Backlot goes up in flames.

I always had a sense of pride when I went to auditions at Universal Studios, since my cousin, Elsa Raven, was the "Save the clock tower woman" in Back to the Future. Now, that clocktower is damaged and the square has been burned. For more info click here.

Every girl needs a good assistant

I love that "detox" is a verb!

Living in LA, the word 'detox' takes on many forms:
Adjective- 'Oooh that drink flushes my system. It's so detox!'
Verb- 'Can't go for drinks, I am detoxing.'
Noun- Q: 'What the hell is wrong with you lately?' A: 'I'm doing a detox.'


We can't just eat healthy, or exercise....We have to hollow ourselves out, get rid of everything that we've put into our systems over the last year, so that next weekend we can have 5 apple martinis and a pack of cigarettes. (aka 'REtox')


Can a steady diet of cayenne pepper and maple syrup really turn your life around?


I don't know, don't talk me. I'm detoxing.

Mommy, that's a pretty lady. Is that Rachel?

Ok, so this is why I like kids. They look at a picture of a "pretty lady" and consider the possibility that it could be me. This is why I try to surround myself with kids. Hell, maybe this is the reason I want kids.

Think about it. I could have a group of adorable little people constantly following me around and telling me how pretty I am. I could be Snow White. That would be awesome.

Maybe we can take vacations to a mystical far off place where people wait on you hand and foot, and tell you how cool and pretty you are. Some people call it heaven. I call it a Disney Cruise.

Cramming for love

So my birthday is coming up, which means it's time for me to start cramming to get a date....

Every year, June rolls around, and I try to meet a guy and date him long enough so that it's not weird for me to bring him to my birthday party. It's like 'Farmer Wants A Wife', and I'm the farmer, except I don't want a wife, just a date. And a male one, preferably.

3 years ago, Farmer actually got a date. It also happened to be our last date, but it gave me hope. Hope for Farmers everywhere...

These computer programs make me feel like I am 12.

Facebook, MySpace, Friendster, Twitter, Flutter, Spritzer, Fluffer, Nutter Butter...I feel like I'm in grade school all over again.

You get on MySpace (which I never did, by the way) you get all these friends, and then there's a cooler club to join - Facebook, so you go hang out with Facebook, and you start at the bottom again. You get the friends, join the groups, poke people, blah blah blah. Then there's Twitter, which is new and actually pretty shocking since you're basically stalking people all day long. You follow people and see what they are doing moment to moment. It's very Truman Show. I swear, I'm going to get a nice, solid group of people to "follow" me, and then there will be a new group to join, new people to poke, and a new club to look in on. Frustrating!!!

By the way, please start following me on Twitter- Look up- rachelleah27

Do I want a cup or a bowl?

It's really hard for me to follow Politics!!!

FREE ICED COFFEE at Dunkin Donuts TODAY!

I know that I am a triple grande sugar free vanilla non fat whole foam cappucino type of girl, but I have to say..there is something super exciting about the coffee at Dunkin Donuts. You just say "light and sweet" and BOOM...a magical tasty yumminess appears before you. Not too light, not too sweet, just right! The three bears would have been proud!

I wish we had Dunkin Donuts in LA, so let me live vicariously through all of you! For one day, let's all simplify together. Tomorrow morning, Starbucks and all of their complicated concoctions will be waiting. But for today, let's just be 'light and sweet'!

If my Dad was a dog....

Laundry. I am so annoyed with my own Jewishness right now.

Laundry. I guess it's because my mother never did it. I decided that NO MATTER WHAT, I would not do laundry on Shabbat (sun down on Friday to sun down on Saturday) So now it's Sunday, and I am stuck with 4 loads of laundry! This sucks! I am exhausted and don't want to stay up to do my stupid freaking laundry! Plus, now some of my "blog fans" are telling me they want my blog to be heartfelt and to "dive into the deepness of my emotional self". How the hell am I going to dive into my emotional self about laundry? It's dirty clothes. Does it represent my inner being? Is it a metaphor for my life?
Maybe I want dirty laundry! Maybe I don't want my clothes to be clean. The dirt protects the clothes from the outside elements, just like I protect my heart from outside influences.
Hmmm....... or maybe I was just a lazy ass all week...didn't do laundry, and now I am stuck doing laundry for the next three hours since I wouldn't do it on Shabbat!!!
Whatever.

It's just a damn T-shirt!

Last night began the festival that my office is producing for the entire city of Los Angeles. I brought T-Shirts for my volunteers...and some person (we'll call him Crazy Mcgee) came up and asked me for an extra shirt. I politely told him that I had exactly enough for my volunteers, and that if I had any T-shirts at the end I'd be happy to send him one. Well, this guy followed me around all night watching my shirts...and every 15 minutes felt the need to remind me to send him one. Well. At the end of the night, Crazy was eyeing my T-shirts, and actually tried to swipe one when I wasn't looking.....which of course just pissed me off.

Stanislavski Summer School

So last night I went to dinner with my peeps from Stanislavski Summer School. Little shout out to Amanda, Kevin, and my dear sweet Michael! Ahhh the memories. As we all dined on guacamole and chips, we rehashed many nights of acting, kissing, and Russian translation. I can't believed how I remembered so much of the world of Cambridge, MASS: The vodka, pickles, capture the flag, crush on Kevin, the famous last night....I realized the value of the picture. Even though the memory was in my brain, it was awakened by looking at the image staring at me in my album. We've all grown. Some our actors, some musicians, some wives, some mothers, but we can all say we were the Stanislavski Summer School 2002.

ahhh...phone technology

This picture is pretty, but the cool part... I TOOK IT WITH MY CELL PHONE!!!! Cool huh?

My first serious boyfriend was a gay man!

Let's just start off by saying I was in college AND in the THEATRE Department. I guess I should have known better when he sent me a note before our first date telling me to "dress semi-formal with a casual flair". Kind of telling, right? But this girl had no idea.

He bought me lavish gifts like Disney CD's and the soundtrack to Oliver. Again. No idea.

He was one of my dear friends who treated me like a queen. Or I treated him like a queen...whatever. Nevertheless, he made me feel special in this crazy lonely world, and I thank him for that. I know I missed "the anniversary", but Happy Cinco de Mayo Mr. Desantis!

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithlessand therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

© 1999 by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

I take after my dad.

My father was a photographer. He never taught me how to take a picture, but he showed me the thrill of capturing a moment.

$90 for workout pants?

So, like most people, I have made the New Year's resolution to work out ALL the time. Well, it turns out by the end of April, my clothes are lookin' pretty crappy. So I went into Lulu Lemon since everyone RAVES about how awesome the clothes are...and I admit..they are great...BUT $90 FOR WORKOUT PANTS?


Why? Why do we spend so much money on clothes that we are just going to get sweaty and gross and wash everyday?


Well, this morning (at the crack of dawn)..I'm working out with my trainer, and took a little gander into the mirror...OH MY GOD! I was hideous. In my cheap-ass Target pants with holes in the sides, and a ripped shirt from Camp Tel Yehudah, I realized that I looked like crap. My workout sucked, and I realized that sometimes the $90 pants may just be worth it.


So, now I can be exhausted and broke at the same time. But, oh will I look fabulous!

Welcome to None of the Above. The name literally came to me in a dream, so either brilliance has begun to rain down upon me as I sleep, or I shouldn't eat Chinese food so soon before bed.

I'll be posting the trials and tribulations of my day job, the random blind dates I go on, and anything that strikes my fancy in the City of Angels. Enjoy!