I just find monolithic resorts kind of sad. It's like vacationing on a slave plantation. However, for the sake of my own need to erase my life of my own fears and pressures, I can temporarily block out the fact that all the maids and waiters and bar tenders are dark skinned and look Indian, whereas the great majority (let's just say all) of the tourists are Lily white. But there is always an insidious feeling of....the word "inequality" comes to mind as a gross understatement.

My only solace comes from the knowledge that non-Americans live in a world of considerable less spiritual dissolution, and at the very least, aren't burdened with the constant pressure to consume.

My greatest fear is that I'm the worse type of American - worse than ignorant naive Americans who don't know better and weren't raised bi-racially in a liberal hot bed - because I'm a GIANT hypocrite. I need to remind myself that hating myself for the state of the world doesn't change anything...except my mood.

Just for today, I can accept my hypocrisy and enjoy the monolithic resort I'm staying in (and the fact that I frequently end sentences with a preposition).

Just for today, I can love my family on vacation. And when my mom tells me that "Everyone turns into their parents," I don't have to respond like a nuclear reactor and say, "God help me" like Mrs. Condescendo. Just because my mom wants me to be a miniature version of her, (except for the fact that I'm much bigger...she's teeny, tiny), doesn't mean that I don't have any choice in my life decisions. It's not that I don't think my mom is an amazing person, but I don't want to be a miniature of anybody, and I make different decisions, like, for instance, I haven't gotten married yet, and I get my hair professionally highlighted. And when she tells me that I don't know what I'm talking about, I don't have to threaten her by saying "I don't want kids, so you won't be a grandmother till my sister has them and you're about 100," (which is really just about the worst thing I can say to her).

My mom is the person that brought me forth into the world and now she's my friend. She has no earth shattering power over me and my self-esteem...so long as I have boundaries.

Just for today, I can enjoy my mom on vacation.

Even for those of us who spent this day unofficially abstaining from the holiday because we were incapacitated by the flu-from-hell, it's important to remember that celebrating the birth of Christ isn't about Christian propaganda, or retail business, or corporate America, or even about continuing the tradition of deluding your children into believing in some old white overeating fat man who delivers gifts to white middle and upper class children. The real truth about Christmas is that it's about re-birth and humility and hope. I can be rejected from all the fancy jobs, and people and parties, but I can still be reborn in my humble little apartment. And we are all kings and queens here, born to save each other from our own fruitless ambitions for those same loveless jobs and parties and people.

I am reborn anew on Christmas Day!

I could say "I am willing to give and receive love" twenty million times before I go to bed at night (along with the arm motion), or do my third inventory on my sex and love life (which is really fun to read to someone), or sign up for five Internet dating sites and meet guys tell me how "different" I look from my picture (yeah, and what's up with the shoe-horn nose piercing?! I didn't see that in YOUR picture), or give the creepy guy at the Christmas party a chance (before I realized that my undergarment wasn't doing its proper job...whoops, no wonder so many guys around) or flirt with the cable guy...but the truth is, I'm really sick and tired of doing anything about being single.

Forty-something guys I've kissed (I had insomnia one night and, yes, that's including all the 7th grade Truth or Dare/Spin the Bottle games), ten emotional entanglements (won't even get into the sex), two relationships that qualify for the "serious" category, and one burned out single lady. Ok, there are a lot of things I haven't done and a lot of places I haven't been. But at least I know that I don't need to try everything (because I have instincts for a reason). The point is, I'm done with the drama. I don't know if bitterness is the right word, because I'm not really angry with anyone. It's more a state of exhausted surrender, a sort of "I'm done," I've taken that exam, completed that obstacle course, climbed that mountain, fallen off that cliff, did that whole self-pity thing, did that whole "I'm fabulous" thing...who cares anymore!

Just for today, I surrender my love life.

This holiday season, I abstain. Save for midnight mass (which is, oddly, a rebirthing experience for me, unlike any other) and a few obligatory gifts, I will treat this Christmas day as any other holiday (which is a day off of work). The rest of you can plummet through store aisles, run up your credit cards recklessly buying useless chachkies (sp?) (clutter no more!), make plans for a stressful family gathering (nap time), and wonder in your heart of hearts what all the fuss is really about (corporate America). Meanwhile, I will be in my pajamas. The true meaning of Christmas is one of rebirth and renewal. And that I can do without stressing out my finances and my emotions and adding four hundred more obligations to my life. Don't do it people! You're worth so much more! Give yourself the greatest Christmas gift and take a vacation from the insanity...I swear.

Just for today, I abstain from my addiction to holiday insanity.

According to my friend Marge, the "Evil Eye" in "The Lord of the Rings" looks like a giant vagina. (For the purposes of this blog we'll ignore the fact that the non-human, and non-European characters have some ethnic characteristics...but we're talking about sexism here). If you think I'm reading far too much in this epic, try "Bad Santa" in which every single female character (without exception) gets screwed, is elderly (which is apparently high-larious), or extremely overweight (and getting screwed...up the butt, no less). I'm hard press to see where this is empowering or even remotely respectful to women. I think "Bad Santa" may have even included the old overplayed never-funny-to-me joke where a woman who is overweight, middle aged, with a mole on her face (and she's either a waitress or nurse or some occupation where women serve) turns around to face the camera and her mere presence is enough to inspire laughter. Why? Because she's supposedly heinous and it's funny to laugh at women who aren't child-like waifs waiting to wrap their legs around the director, who still hates his mom and all the girls who didn't like him in high school. And, finally, we mustn't forget the scene where the short midget guy chops off a mannequin's leg (and don't tell me that it's just a mannequin, it wears women's clothes for God sakes!).

Sometimes when I express what I really think I fear that I may be furthering my chances of landing a gig as a suburban housewife. And then I realize that I'm actually protecting myself from entering a special type of hell disguised as a domestic partnership where women are supposed to accept that the "Man Show" is not pure venom towards women.

Just for today, I can express my feminist views.

7:30 AM - Wake-up to the sound of garbage trucks that sound like they're crushing trash in my living room.

8:00 AM - Haven't gotten out of bed. Can't decide if I have a debilitating flu, or just don't want to get up. Decide that I don't want to get up, and so I make flu sounding noises and gestures, as if I'm trying to make someone feel sorry for me. Who? Don't know, since I sleep alone (no comment on that). Maybe God.

11:00 AM - Therapy! I get two laughs from my therapist. One when I talk about the Cancer Causing People in my life (if air and water can cause cancer, why can't people?) and the other when I refer to my "Insert Boyfriend" days when I indiscriminately filled the emptiness of my soul with warm bodies (attention ex-boyfriends who never felt any great connection: so sorry...please forgive). End the session by bursting into tears, and then feel bad that I go over time.

1:00 PM - Lunch with college friend. We compare notes on upcoming college reunion. Don't know if I can withstand the plethora of married college friends and their children. I can only do so much cooing. God, I feel old.

3:00 PM - Stoplight DA Buddy Siting. A woman from DA (Debtor's Anonymous) honks and rolls down the window. "I need a meeting," I shout, even though it's the last thing that I really am feeling a the moment. She makes a downward pointing sign with her thumb and then shouts back, "Meetings suck!" I realize that I want her to like me and I think that by acting like some desperate, my-life-is-a-shambles debtor, that I'm endearing. Boy, am I a phony.

4:30 PM - Coffee at Pete's. Realize I lost my ATM card, menstrual cramps coming on full force, caffeine craving at all time high. Give dramatic recounting of drama around Cancer Causing Person to friend. Realize that I'm only increasing the chances of getting cancer.

5:30 PM - Program call. Healthy friend reminds me that it's OK to love the people I want to love and pray for the rest.

6:00 PM - Prayer session on Cancer Causing People.

6:15 PM - Buy tickets to "Lord of the Rings." (Dreaming of Viggo...)

6:20 PM - Write blog. Read past blogs and am horrified by the amount of typos. Swear that one day I'll clean it all up.

7:00 PM - Actual moment of peace and gratitude (Please last!). Meet friend for movie...more on that later.

Yes, Ladies and Gay Men (or heterosexual men who appreciate raw, smoldering masculinity set in fantasy Middle-Earth) today is the day that "Lord of the Rings" opens and Viggo Mortensen sets women's (and men's) fantasy life aflame with his portrayal of Aragorn. If only I could find a man who had to run around in a suit of armor, with sweat dripping off his head, and the gleam of victory mixed with rebellion, passion, and a touch of madness. Sigh. I wonder if I can get tickets tonight.

Dear People of the Earth,

I just thought I'd take this time to say hello and introduce myself. I have never addressed you all as a group before and I thought that it might be a good community-building action (though, I'm sure there's a good chunk of you who can't read this...sorry about that). I'm not quite sure how many people I'm reaching, but boy, it must be a lot! Anyway, I thought I'd take this time to make a statement about the condition of the world. I haven't read the newspaper lately (because I have issues with depression that seem exacerbated by bloody pictures on the LA Times), but I'm pretty sure there are a lot of problems and issues out there. If things are OK, just ignore this letter. However, in the likely chance that there are some less than optimal conditions out there, I'd like to say, first of all, that I really care. I may not know the specific facts, but I do care about humanity. Secondly, I believe that we can change the world if we all believe in ourselves. There. I'm done.

I hope I've given you something to think about.

BFF (Best Friends Forever)

Stella

I had a minor breakthrough (though now, like all breakthroughs, it seems painfully obvious) about the nature of relationships. It sort of falls in line with the breakthrough I had after college when I realized that I believed that the majority of professional middle to upper class Americans LOVE their jobs (this is when I was 22). After entering the workforce, however, I came to the realization that this may not always be the case.

Recently, (like this weekend), I realized that, concurrently, I have always believed that ALL people in relationships LOVE their partners or significant others absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt and that's why they are with them. Certain awarenesses have made me realize, again, that this may not always be the case, as well. In the case of jobs, I eventually came to see that while there are people who do get to be Rock Stars and Professional Athletes, and many who love being Restaurant Managers or Surveyors or Gardeners, or Whatever, and some less-privilged or less-entitled-feeling people who greatly appreciate work that some consider menial, the majority of people don't tap dance to work... Likewise, people may be in relationships with others for a variety of reasons.

This breakthrough falls in line with one I had many years ago when I realized that OTHER PEOPLE HAVE PROBLEMS, TOO! No matter how well they act like they don't.

I think the real breakthrough is BOY, AM I SELF-ABSORBED!

Just for today, I can take a look at my unconscious beliefs.

A while ago I invited my mom and aunts to come and stay with me for a weekend. They couldn't get over what they perceived as the immense fabulousness of my life and both aunts repeatedly commented on how they wish they could live in my apartment single and alone. My mom has always pleaded with me to hold out as long as possible to get married (and when I say "always," I mean was the only girl in my fifth grade with an iron-on shirt that read "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle). Needless to say, the women in my family don't seem to have any qualms about touting the less attractive facets of domestic bliss. Such, however, seems not to be the state of the rest of the world.

I was watching a crime television show whose storyline was about a successful female doctor in her late 30's who dissappears and how the investigator, who is also in her late 30's, discovers that underneath the veneer of success lies the cold bitter sadness of a woman who neglected to get married and have children. What misfortune that the poor beautiful gorgeous brain surgeon and the equally gorgeous CIA investigor forgot to have kids! Question: where is the crime show about the wife/mother/successful (and super stressed) doctor who dissappears, and the crime investigator who discovers that beneath the happy homemaker exterior lies the cold bitter sadness of a woman who neglected to sing Karaoke, spend more time with her friends, sleep, and live a life not dependent on adrenaline and caffeine.

While I think I do want kids, I really appreciate the time that being single allows me to hang out, sleep, read and do whatever. I know that having kids will take all of that away.

Just for today, I am very cool with being single and childless.

Getting rid of stuff I don't need or want always feel great. However, driving to the old Good Will with a car load of crap brings up thoughts and feelings about where the old crap came from (excuse my language). Especially, when I'm getting rid of gifts from old relationships. Strangely after decluttering my apartment of certain books and CDs, I had a dream about an old boyfriend wherein said person told me that he was going hunting for Indians (as in Native Americans). Now, said person was not the least bit racist in real life (just kind of controlling), but in my dream he was like a Spanish Conquistador decimating the Americas' indigenous population (representing my inner peace and spirit). Needless to say, it feels good to declutter.

Just for today, I can joyfully declutter my life.

My married couple childhood friends recently bought a beautiful house in which to begin their fabulous, deliriously happy new life together and they invited me over. It was good to see them and a nice opportunity to continue my research project on how happy people co-habit. To me, of course, their life looks like perfection incarnate. A loving relationship, a beautiful house (hardwood floors, craftsman, deck, AND an artist studio), good relations with the extended family, strong career prospects, etc. But upon taking a tour, we found a scratch in their new armoire!!!! This confirmed my theory that even the most blessed, lucky, people who are actively creating joy and meaning in their lives....can still get bummed out about getting their "stuff" scratched. My suspicions that expensive, nice stuff will eventually get scratched, damaged, and/or (unless it ends up in a museum) fall apart, seem to be true. The two dings in my car were actually inevitable (considering the amount of time my car spends in lots next to large SUVs owned by people in a hurry who can't be bothered to slowly open their doors...though sometimes I do that to.)

If this is the case, why then do I obsess so much about buying nice stuff...? When I die, will I regret not having bought more crap? Perhaps, but I doubt it.

Just for today, I can let go of the scratches and degeneration of my material possessions.

Surely, it's for myself, (as I am currently between boyfriends, otherwise known as Single). It's important for my own self-love that I can appreciate how fabulous I look, feel and am. I know that, while fat is not a feeling, fabulousness certainly is. But if it's just a feeling, what's with the expensive highlights and eyebrow styling? And while I don't think I'll ever find incissions or the odd insertion of lipids into other parts of my body, attractive or appealing, surely years of highlights will add up and expose me to cancer causing agents. So, what's the deal? So long as I don't smell bad, isn't inner-beauty enough? I suppose some day I'll surely be toothless and mushy, and then my husband will have no choice but to appreciate my inner-beauty (hell, he can wallow in it at that point). But until then, I suppose I can look at my monthly self-care expenditure as the equivalent of home-improvement expenditures (after all, does anyone HAVE to re-paint the bathroom or landscape the garden?).

Just for today, it's OK to LOOK fabulous (for those days when I'm not quite feelin' it).

Nobody told me that singing Karaoke in my car on I-5 could be so hazardous to my sanity (and even more hazardous to my bank account.) Something about belting out "Isn't It Ironic" to my new Alanis karaoke CD sent me into an apparently high-speed dream state (I was in "the zone"). However, the sound of sirens and the flash of blue and red beams really snapped me out of it. I tried to refrain from singing for the rest of the trip, but boredom came upon me and then I found myself speeding again! And I thought singing was healthy. Question: how many other innocent hobbies/activities must I sacrifice? Blogging is hazardous to my personal life, shopping leads to desperate compulsive wanting state, lying around my apartment is "isolating," dating people I really like is my "crack/cocaine" (according to irritating self-help gurus...interestingly, crack/cocaine is also my "crack/cocaine")....what is left...Monopoly...Please, Lord, help me find interesting healthy pursuits.

Just for today, I can be careful while I pursue my passions.

I ran into my friend Dave who I used to hang out with in the "rooms." He seems to be doing great and said that he does yoga every day now, meditates each morning, is getting ready to go on a retreat where he will refrain from speaking for two weeks, has embraced a vegan lifestyle, and is generally "living in light". He invited me to join him for a soy latte, and a fungus-based imitation chicken taco at his favorite vegetarian restaurant. Once we walked inside the restaurant he announced that the energy of the wait staff was toxic to him. I asked him if there was anyplace else he wanted to go, but he told me that all of the restaurants in the area are toxic to him. His car was near mine and while we walked to it a meter maid stood by writing a ticket, at which point he got down on his knees and cursed the toxicity of the city of Los Angeles, and US in general (while we're at it). I asked him if there was any place in the world that isn't toxic, and he told me that there is an island off of Costa Rica and his plan is to go there and live by himself and commune with the purity of God. When I left, he thanked me for not being toxic and we hugged good-bye. I hope I never get so healthy that everything seems toxic, but I still eat meat and have never done yoga, so perhaps I am still living in darkness.

Yes, it's that time again. I thought the day might never come. I thought I might have to spend another $20 on $4 coffee drinks. But, alas, there is a God and the universe is abundant and, my pink CBTL Pink Drink Card is finally all punched out, which means...it's time for me to get my free coffee drink from the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf!! Yes, just when I thought I couldn't possibly give another dime to the coffee industry (who by the way is making a killing! How much does it cost to make a cup of coffee? Not $1.75). I may not have much in my life, but I do have a free shot of serious sugar and caffeine coming up.

1) Take clothes to dry cleaner (don't forget coupon).
2) Get eyebrows done (don't take Eyebrow Ladies' comments about your skin personally, remember, it is her job to make you acutely aware of your imperfections).
3) Paint kitchen (remember to ventilate this time. Note to self: if you feel faint, go outside.)
4) Go to work Christmas party (note to self: don't forget to make awkward, self-deprecating chit-chat about your single, childless status).
5) Talk to your therapist about why you feel compelled to make awkward, self-deprecating chit-chat about your single, childless status.
6) At therapist's suggestion rent the first three seasons of Sex in the City, create an altar to Miranda, and write letter to Oprah about peer pressure on women in their 30's.
7) Get hair cut and highlighted (note to self: don't dwell on your conformity to beauty standards. Assume confident posture in sell-out mode.)
8) Have children (note to self: don't forget husband).
9) Meet husband (note to self: make sure you REALLY like him).
10) Fall in love with husband (note to self: try not to have children first).