Between, yet, more news about cyclones, earthquakes, a collapsing Democratic party, not to mention the prospect of going back to work (yes, I got a job) combined with the effects of caffeine over-saturation (to make up a redundant grammatically degenerative word), today I decided to forsake my compulsive American work ethic and take my tired ass out on an Artist Date at the Getty.

What I like about the Getty is that it's on a hill, and it allows me to look over Los Angeles and, thus, put all the petty little problems sprawled out below into better perspective. I also like the tram. Oh, and the art is ok, too...

After wandering around the impressionist, and the depressing California Video exhibit (why is video art always dark and cryptic?), I thought, "Fuck it! Who needs art when it's 90 degrees out and I'm surrounded by fountains?" And so I sprawled out next to the southernmost fountain and decided to work on my tan while I closed my eyes and imagined that I was at a spa next to an infiniti pool. The blindingly white slabs made the sun extra strong and helped create the resort effect. Not bad for $8.

Afterwards, I went to the garden. Then I felt better.

Just for today, I can get out of my funk at the Getty.

If I see any more images of a body part under some rubble, or read about any more people who lost children and/or a dozen relatives in Myanmar, or swallow any more of the thinly veiled contempt for the only candidate with an actual thought-out, well-developed health care plan, I'm going to need some meds.

Being well-informed is simply not good for my emotional health.

Just for today, I can practice abstinence from my news addiction.

I was having coffee with Avant Garde Artist Friend on Sunday and talking about dating, when I disclosed the number of emails in my inbox from old boyfriends and other confusions from recent history.

"I don't know what's going on. It's like I'm recycling," I said.

"That's so green of you."

I hadn't thought of it that way, but, really, it makes sense. Why waste valuable time spent on past relationships that take days, months, years to decompose?! Why not recycle old boyfriends and keep this world free of toxic relationship waste...(is this thing on?)?!

Because they didn't go anywhere to begin with?

Oh, yeah.

Well, whose to say I'm not going to end up buying the same outfit with a different brand?

It gets to a point where the confusion overwhelms rational thought. However, truth be told, getting to know new people is simply a lot of effort and I'm just plain lazy.

Just for today, I can consider the benefits of recycling.

Last night, Strange Creepy Salsa Man made a comment about my long, finger-like toes. Many years ago I was forced to accept the fact that my feet are not my best feature. Whenever I get a pedicure, I fear that the Vietnamese ladies are discussing where my feet rank among those also hit with the ugly stick between. Yes, they support me in dancing night after night, but no, they (my feet) aren't cute and dainty. But, then again, what role has girly-ness played in any woman's success and happiness? Over time, I have come to see that the women I admire and, in many ways, seek to emulate, don't really play up cute and dainty.

I remember when I was a teenager in the 80's and Madonna was on the rise. Or, rather, had been on the rise, but was on her way to becoming the monolithic powerhouse that she still manages to be. At the time, she was on the Blond Ambition Tour and critics were shredding her not-so-demure masturbation scene, and disparaging her whole shameless bad girl schtick. I remember seeing one commentator, an older man, state that he believed that there was something wrong with her, and that soon she would start showing signs of emotional instability and, possibly, suicidal tendencies. I remember wondering, at 14, if such was the fate of any woman bold enough to express herself, her sexuality, and make, well, lots of cash in the process.

Well...flash forward twenty years and Madonna may be a lot of things, but suicidal does not seem to be one of them. Great body, a ten+ year marriage, kids, and more money than God. If that's the product of emotional instability, then it's time to quit seeing my shrink...

Many have some negative reactions Hilary Clinton, too (in case the media hasn't made that clear), and in the past few days (for those who live in a wireless cave) have all but called her a delusional hysterical psycho-bitch who should hide her face in shame for daring to follow the democratic process. The tone of a lot of these articles reminds me of the commentator guy who said that Madonna would probably soon try to kill herself in 1986. Something tells me that the chances of Hilary disappearing from the political sphere are as likely as Madonna ever offing herself or my toes shrinking and my feet getting cute. Not everyone likes it, but certain things aren't changing.

There used to be some doubt, but I'm starting to think that the rancor and hostility directed at women that I admire, (would someone tell Ted Kennedy to go fuck himself?) is not the result of objectivity. And, I think some of that got projected onto my feet last night by Strange Creepy Salsa Man (fucker).

Just for today, I can love my ugly feet.

I used to think that bad research skills was a personal problem, but I think it's become an American issue...

The democratic nomination has never been a foregone conclusion this early in the race, EXCEPT IN THE LAST TWO ELECTIONS! And how well did that work out?! Otherwise, it's always been decided in June...

The vitriol with which the media has crucified Hilary for refusing to play nice is really worth some serious examination. To employ an overused juxtaposition, were she a man and still committed to WINNING, would she be quite so lambasted...?!

I'm extremely annoyed (in case you haven't noticed).

Just for today, I'm not drinking Obama flavored Kool-Aid.

My mom came to visit and we went out to dinner on Sunday night. Lately, it seems that whenever I'm out with my mom, guys approach me more. It seems that my mom is a Guy Magnet for me. Like, what babies are to men.

Anyway, my mom is never thrilled by the reception I give any guy who shows some degree of interest. Sure, it's easy for her, she doesn't have to live with him. She's consumed with visions of grandchildren. It's kind of a different story from my end. All I see is the ball and chain that will keep me from salsa dancing. Yes, I plan to keep talking about it in therapy.

Aside our talk about how I'm not "open minded enough" (in regards to men) we had a good visit and I ate lots of good food (my refrigerator is stocked).

Just for today, I can visit with mom.

I was sitting here at Peete's, drinking my crack, getting my democratic primary information fix, when it dawned on me that today's the five year anniversary of the very first time I posted Stella's Blog!

In some ways, this anniversary seems more significant than my stupid natal birthday (especially, now that I'm 36).

Despite it's many imperfections, the discovery of "blogging" way back in 2003 was an epiphany and a seminal moment in my very controlled boring life. Yes, this blog has many flaws: inconsistencies in posting schedule (there isn't one), a few, grammatical, and speling errrs, a sporadic flow of rational thought (cute guy just walked in), downright inappropriate personal content (expecting my period any day now), poor revenue source (I've earned about $100 so far), apparent permanent obscurity in this blog drenched world, and a low (yet, FABULOUS) readership...

...BUT WHO CARES?! Not me. Because I love my blog and it has helped me, countless times, put back the pieces of my sanity. And, what a coincidence that the name of this blog just happens to be STELLA'S SEARCH FOR SANITY!

Well, in a world where women pay money to inject toxins into their faces, and health insurance companies make huge profits off of cancer and other incurable diseases, and young men and women die for twisted political agendas, it's safe to say that there are far worse things than writing a self-absorbed blog.

Just for today, I can celebrate 5 years of blogging.

Whether or not Hilary Clinton becomes the presidential nominee, her campaign has changed me in deep and profound ways that I have never before experienced in American politics during my lifetime. Because of how I've seen Hilary Clinton persevere, I can't help but think of her whenever I am tempted to do the following:

1) Let other people tell me that I'm losing.
2) Believe that it's too late.
3) Trust the media (actually, didn't totally need her to figure that one out...).
4) Believe that changing my strategy is a sign of weakness.
5) Run away from a challenge.
6) Buy into the idea that ambition is unfeminine.
7) Give up...(wether it be on a marriage, goal, or dream).

I don't think most people understand the magnitude of Hilary's run for the democratic nomination. And I'm not referring to her desire to attain it. There's a reason why any single person can withstand the kind of onslaught she has endured over the years and, especially, the last nine months. And that's because said person, like Hilary, believes that what she's doing today - whether or not she "wins" - has a long lasting and important impact on other people.

I know she wants to win (and I want her to win), but that's really beside the point. The real triumph is that she's thriving on the battlefield of gender politics and whatever happens she's transforming the way Americans look at women in power. Whatever you feel about her, you have to admit this sister's got CAJONES!

Really, if it wasn't met with every force of resistance, it wouldn't be a revolution.

The fact that John McCain is even discussing health insurance is, in my book, another win for Hilary (who introduced it into the political sphere in 1992). Because what's really important is that we cease to rely on companies like Blue Shield (did I mention how they $#*& me?)!!

Inspiration for this blog was acquired from Robin Morgan's recent essay.

Just for today, I am inspired by Hilary Clinton.

The joke at an old job was that my secret Native American name is She With Many Windows Open. The dock on my OSX browser frequently hosts about ten open internet windows at the same time, including everything from AP news, to Kim Cattral's IMDB page to the lyrics to Styx's "Come Sail Away"...(very important stuff). I think it's a compulsion, an addiction to random, useless and mind cluttering information. (For example, just now, after writing that sentence, I opened a new window and logged onto Facebook...and I don't even understand what a "poke" is).

In general, I have the attention span of a pop rock. If I try to actually focus it gets worse. Everything goes haywire and I feel like Beaker or Linda Blair when their heads spin around (they should date). Suddenly, it's a combusting information orgy (pardon the mixed metaphor) of Jeffrey Wright's latest speech, recent MySpace message from Good Man in VEGAS (yes, I'm very popular with MySpace stalkers), salsa shoe online store, LinkedIn message from former acting class scene partner, Netflix que, 10 Ways to Avoid Dating (or something like that) article on yahoo homepage that sucks me in, and an email from my mom. Yes, the jury's out, not only are Obama's halcyon days over, but I cannot dance in three inch heels, social networking has not improved the quality of my life, and it's definitely time for some Ridalin.

I'm just overwhelmed by life right now. At a certain point (like 36), you can't go back to the old ways of doing things (i.e., stressful desk job, lots of coffee and unhealthy relationships). Well, the coffee isn't going anywhere, but it's clear that the path from Point A to Point B isn't a straight line. No, apparently, it's filled with lots of meanderings, distractions, and FaceBook surveys...

Just for today, I can forget what the point of this blog was...

My friend called me this morning to discuss whether or not she should end a relationship with the charming guy she's been dating who "doesn't know what he wants" (i.e., not interested in the whole marriage and kids package). I started to wonder about this conversation and how many times it has taken place in American society in the past thirty years...a kajillion?

Seeing as I have failed to connect with the Nuclear Family concept (or even the Nucular one) at this point, I've been doing some research and am reading a book called "Marriage, A History." The author, Stephanie Coontz, offers, among other things, some historical alternatives to the modern concept of marriage and family. My favorite is a Chinese society called the Na, wherein the primary relationships were with parents and siblings. Women rarely married but had "visitors" at night and when they got pregnant the siblings and extended family helped raise the child.

No need for any uncomfortable "Where are we going?" conversations, and dealing with all that hemming and hawing. Sounds like a good fit to me. Where do I sign up?

Like I mentioned before, I would consider embracing a Biological Clock Panic, but I just don't have the energy right now (too much Salsa).

Just for today, I can research alternatives to the Nuclear Family.