Dear Michael Banana,

I am so sorry to hear about the death of your late father, Reverend Canaan Sondindo Banana, former president of Zimbabwe, who died in November. I am also honored that you would think of me as a partner to assist you in securing the release of the $24,200,000 USD that your father put in a European account. Your offer of 10% for my assistance is very generous, and I will certainly keep your offer purely confidential. My only question is, how in God's name did you find me? And why did you choose me? I mean you don't even know my name and I have to say that I don't know the first thing about international finance. I also don't know why you would trust an anonymous stranger with that kind of money. It's just a little suspicious. I'm learning to say "No," and I think right now is a good time to practice. So, Mr. Banana (nice name), I respectfully decline.

If you don't find the person the person you're looking for, remember, let go and let God.

Take care,

Stella

By most accounts in our society, I am living a half-life of emptiness due to the lack of a significant other in my life. By some accounts I need to tear off my judgmental glasses (which apparently I'm wearing) and throw myself at people who don't look like GQ models, because my holding out for someone who does (which apparently I'm doing, although I didn't even know I found GQ models attractive) is what is keeping me single (which apparently is an uncomfortable state for, not only myself, but for others - mostly people in committed relationships - as well).

Hey, folks, I'm OK with being single! Are you OK? Contrary to popular opinion, I am not in a panic about this. While singlehood has loneliness as it's major drawback, it also has total freedom. Why is it so considered so strange and slightly threatening for me to be at peace with this? Ladies, are you having any doubts about your relationship? Because if your relationship isn't good, let me tell you, it's not so bad over here. I have my own apartment that I decorate as I choose, (painted the bathroom magenta), I come and go as I please, I cook and clean for only myself, I spend a lot of time with awesome friends, and I go out on school nights. If you're in love, more power to you, I hope to join you some day. But if you're not in ecstasy, what are you waiting for? It's way fun over here, I swear! (And if you get lonely you can just call me).

Just for today, it's OK to love being single.

Just for today, I can listen to criticism and accept that it may contain some kernel of truth. So when people complain that I might be a little to free and open with reference to chronic conditions, I can learn to keep certain things to myself. Just because I suffered from both a sinus infection and severe IBS this weekend, does not necessarily mean that everyone I come into contact with wants to hear about it. While I believe I am performing a service by sharing such conditions, I am learning that not everyone can appreciate the detailed descriptions of my storytelling, especially pertaining to certain orifices.

Just for today, I can constipate my mouth.

(FYI: The second most often typed Google phrase, second to "Search for Sanity," that leads to this website just happens to be "Irritable Bowel Syndrome." So, I know you folks are out there! Even if you pretend you're not!)

Dear CBS,

I am writing this letter to let you know how I feel about the fact that you won't air MoveOn.org's Bush in 30 Seconds winning ad during the most widely watched television event of the year (aka, the Super Bowl).

How do I feel? I feel sad. I also feel exactly like I did when I was a little girl and my father told me that I could only have one piece of candy after dinner. So I had my one piece and he stuffed his face with my Halloween candy. And when I said, "but that's not fair." He took a second from chewing and said, "Life's not fair." And those words have rung in my ears ever since.

What I've learned is that, basically, life is unfair. But it is unfair in a different way than how we're used to thinking of unfairness. Sure, it's unfair that those who disagree with the decisions of the Bush administration should be unable to express their views at the Super Bowl. However, it's also unfair that vulnerable, confused, human beings who like football should have advertisements shoved down their throats that glorify alcohol abuse, and mysoginy. That we should be taught to numb out and desensitize those feelings that say, "Hey, wassup?! Something feels largely amiss in a world spending billions on a war with no reason when sending my child to a public school feels like child abuse."

CBS execs, I encourage you to feel the fear and do it anyway. Remember your cushy jobs, cars, and suits don't mean anything if can't let go of the fear.

Let go and let God, CBS. I swear, you'll feel better, and you'll make this a better and more fair world for everone.

Sincerely,

Stella

Before I go to bed at night I like to say goodnight to the things and creatures around me, just like the child in the famous children's book, "Goodnight Moon."

"Goodnight moon."

"Goodnight teddy bear from before I was born."

"Goodnight lonely, empty apartment."

"Goodnight Virgin Mary candle from the 99 cents store."

"Goodnight dripping faucet."

"Goodnight yelling neighbor's abusive boyfriend who doesn't let her get a word in edge-wise."

"Goodnight Santa Ana winds."

"Goodnight vibrator that doesn't work properly."

"Goodnight drunk people walking down the alley (below my window) at 2:00 AM and screaming out lewd references to their sexual practices."

"Goodnight crazy roller-blading saxophone guy who also rides down the alley all night."

"Goodnight early, early morning jogger who breathes really loud."

"Goodnight early morning birds."

"Goodnight early morning sun."

"Goodnight alarm going off."

Just for today, I can say goodnight to the world around me.

In case you've blown your New Year's resolutions, or the year has just gotten off to a bad start, you need not worry. You can start afresh with the Chinese New Year. Yes, that's right. And if the next few weeks don't pan out, then there is always the Persian New Year coming up. In fact, who needs a calendar. Create your own New Year starting any day you choose.

According to the Chinese New Year tradition, your behavior and actions today will reflect your behavior for the rest of the year. Just for today, I can say "yes" to opportunities that send me outside of my little hovel box of a life. I can not worry about the big picture or money or how I will raise my children as a single parent in a one bedroom apartment (seeing as that would be the product of the Immaculate Conception...which would surely make me rich and famous).

Just for today, I can be happy, open, honest, and expectant of the great things life will bring!

To Whom It May Concern:

Hi, I am looking for a job and saw your notice on a popular web site. Gee, sending out a resume and a cover letter was never this easy before. What's it like hiring on the web? I bet you get more e-mails than I get spam selling viagra...As you can see, I am very chatty (but not at all in an office environment...hahahaha!). Anyway, I am extremely qualified for...which one was this? Oh, yeah, the position as a receptionist. For a second, I thought I was writing to the people looking for an au pair (but if you do need some babysitting, I am available). Anyway, nobody can sit at a front desk and smile like this lady. I even have a number of cheery slogans to tape all over my desk for those particularly dismal days. My favorite one is "When people make plans, God laughs" (or something like that). Basically, the point is that God is laughing at us and our silly plans. God is such a riot. Good thing I know, just for today, not to make any plans. I also have one by Helen Keller that goes, "Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all." I wonder if Helen Keller ever dared to pay her rent three months late?! Hahahahha. Anyway, as you can see I like to joke around, but in a serious, office kind of way.

Thanks for taking the time to read this and I look forward to hearing you (by the way, does this ever work as a last line in a cover letter?)

Sincerely,

Your Friend Forever (even though we just met),

Stella

The fourteen-year-old boy I tutor invited me to the Winter Ball. I asked him if I would be the only 31-year-old date there, and he responded that I probably would. I decided I should think of some ice-breakers I could use with the other 9th graders, since it's been a while. Here's what I came up with:

"So, what's it like having been born when grunge was cool and the first Bush administration was in office?"

"Is that Angel smell? Boy, I wish I had $70 to spend on perfume."

"Do you want to learn how to drive? I can teach you because I have 17 years of experience at it."

"Gee, I didn't realize that someone born in 1990 could be a foot taller than I am."

"Do your parents have any cute single friends?"

I think I'll be OK, so long as I don't get too excited when the 80's music plays.

Last night, out of nowhere, I was overcome with the desire to call my mom and burst into tears and say, "I'm scared!" And before I knew what was happening, I was crying on the phone to my mom like I a five-year-old.

"What's wrong?! What happened?! Did something happen?!" she asked.

"No, everything is fine," I said. "Why?" I asked, totally forgetting that I had just behaved like a trauma victim. I must be missing some part of my brain that makes moments in life seem continuous. As far as I knew, I was suddenly fine.

"Are you safe?!" she asked.

"Yes, I'm safe, Mom," I told her. "I just was suddenly overwhelmed by my life."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what's going to happen."

"Well, nobody does."

"I know. So, how are you?"

"I'm making dinner. So, are you sure you're safe?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I just suddenly got scared about what's going to happen to me in my life. Sorry to bother you."

It's really embarrassing when I act out of a regressed state. Just for today, it's OK to be embarrassed when I act out of my own fear and anxiety.

Just for today, it's OK to accept my inner-fabulousness. In the past (my childhood) fabulousness was not allowed. Alcoholic/dysfunctional families feel an aversion to it because personality traits get displaced, people assume roles, and only one person is allowed to be fabulous, most often the dysfunctional parent. As a result, if I did something fabulous I put myself at risk of either being reamed and ripped a new butt hole, or my fabulousness was taken to mean something about everyone else. Today I know that while I have fabulous, incredible, gorgeous friends, some of whom are famous, their success says nothing about me personally, except that I am smart and wise enough to choose each of them as a friend. I can't take their fabulousness and make it my own, but I can know that...I'm fabulous, too...and that's good to know.

"Oh, my God! Wow! This is so unexpected! Ok...I'd like to first thank the Academy for this honor. You know, when I started out as a writer/actor/director/producer, I was struggling to make ends meet and never, ever in my WILDEST dreams did I think that some day I would be up here. From the bottom of my heart, I'd like to thank my agent ________, and my manager ________. I'd like to thank my mother for telling me never to give up hope, and my father for teaching me how to let stuff roll off of me. But the people who I would really like to thank are my sponsor who I can't name (because I don't want to break her anonymity - but she's here tonight!), and most importantly, my therapist _________. Where are you two (except my sponsor)? Can you stand up? If these two people had not let me PROCESS MY STUFF, then there would be no screenplay, there would be no deep emotion for me (or Meryl, or Jack, or Frances) to really work with. Because, let's face it, we're all dysfunctional, we've all got issues, we're all afraid...but how many of us can find somebody willing to listen to our self-obsessed crap? Not many. And to all the little girls out there who dream of being up here some day....all I have to say to you is you can do it...but start therapy now! Ten, eight, nine, I don't care how old...Thank you for this honor! God, bless you! God, bless America, Iraq, and all the other countries we've invaded for their natural resources! (Oh, hey...what's with the booing...?)"

Just for today, I can work on my acceptance speech.

(Light candle. Sit on floor. Look somber)
"God?...hey, what's up...just checking in here...Question: why do I feel a gnawing (sp?) pain in my heart?...maybe I should wear my black turtle neck tonight....do I really expect to meet a guy in a bar?...too bad the vibrator's not working for me...it's like inserting a pager in your vagina...they should offer a class at the Learning Annex...wish I could still have casual sex...fun (sort of) followed by heartbreak (definitely)...no, thank you, those days are over...don't show that part on Sex and the City...except Miranda rocks, she's got the wise bitterness going on...do love that show...women friendships are the best...why are relationships with men so hard?...maybe I need to try being more dysfunctional....definitely more possibilities...lower my standards...no, that's not right, that's what I've always done..."don't be so picky" is what my father would say...thanks dad...so complicated...do believe in falling in love, unfortunately...when my soul mate gets here, I'll be too exhausted from waiting to have kids...he can be a house husband, I'll go earn the money....who needs kids right now...I just need a mate...have I reached nirvana yet?...."

Just for today, it's OK to think about love and sex while meditating.

I think I'm back in the saddle of My Own Personal Journey, and out of everyone else's saddle. If there's one thing I learned in 2003, it's that people LOVE to give advice (myself included). If you ever want to hear someone's life story, just ask, "What should I do about...(insert problem at hand...relationships, jobs, taxes, etc.)?"

Not to blame anyone. I love giving advice (though it's frequently comes out of my own anger). However, it isn't anyone's fault that advice from another affects me like a torrential downpour hurricane on a shantytown. I think I made it out of childhood without a certain psychic protective shield that keeps other people's opinions away from my solar plexus (or in other words, without boundaries). Hence, the need to argue with my therapist about why I choose not to date on the Internet, or with multiple vegans/vegetarians, about why I choose to eat meat, or with PC users about why I own a Mac, or with my mom about why it's OK to send more than $20 an any item of clothing. It never, ever, ever, ever occurs to me that it's no one else's business how I live my life. And while intellectually, I may get that right now, surely when my neighbor suggests that I paint my living room coffee, I will fall into a temporary spell, wonder if I need to "set a boundary" by telling her that I'm not in a place to accept her color suggestions, and then decide to pray, meditate, and after avoiding her in the hall for a few weeks...forget the episode ever happened.

Just for today, it's OK to let people have their own opinions...I think.

People swear by it, some even say it changed their life. I don't think that daydreaming in front of a candle for fifteen minutes can possibly do me any harm, but if it's changing my life...I just don't know. Here's a little sample of my "meditative" state.

(Light candle. Sit on floor. Look serene.)

"Hmmm, OK, God, or whatever, let's give me some direction here...what do you want me to do with my life?...gee, I wonder if I have any more of that Trader Joe's caramel popcorn left. So many cute guys work at TJ's...too young for me...maybe I can get a job there...shoot, I forgot to call my aunt and thank her for the scarf...ingrate that I am...ok, let's get spiritual...what am I supposed to think about while I sit here?...rivers?...trees?...but I hate nature...so many bad memories...horrifying camping experiences...spider bites...didn't my eye swell up and then my Kindergarten teacher sent me home because she said I needed to go to the hospital?...nice parenting...too many hot toddies, dad! Ok, now I'm angry...let's see maybe if I play with the candle wax, I'll think of something else....damn!...now it's all over the carpet...this is not good....how long has it been?...fifteen minutes?...renewed resentment and wax on carpet...can I go to bed now?"

Just for today, I will continue with my meditation practice, despite present difficulties.

My friend Margaret says that when things are easy and flow that means that the door is open and the universe supports our actions. When things aren't working it means that there is another path that is better suited for us, the proverbial door is closed. I'm not really sure how I feel about this philosophy. What if the gates of hell open up for me? Just because it's easy, does that mean I should waltz right in? Heaven might require a little bit of struggle and clamoring, but at least I'm trying to get into the right place.

Today I walked by Victoria's Secret right when they were having the annual bra sale and (being in a place where I'm working on owning sexier bras) I walked in, picked up a few heavily padded lace creations, and waltzed right into the dressing room. One of the bras made me look like I'd had a boob job operated by a balloon clown and the second one just...let's just say it didn't fit. I left my room (because there was a big line of angry bra-hunters waiting to use it) to go on my own hunt for some better (i.e., ones that fit) bras. Now, this took work. In the end, I waited in line for the dressing room, and I waited in line to pay for a black bra (wanting to be sexy is not a crime, wearing bras that make you look like you've disfigured your body for what you think might be sexy, is).

Did the universe intend for me to buy a bra today? Who the hell cares, except for what this says about the rest of my life. Exactly, how much work am I supposed to put into finding my soul mate (preferably none) and my dream job (again...preferably none). I hear my friends tell me about how their soul mate just "came" to them, or how they just "fell" into a fulfilling career. Truth is, parking tickets and unavailable men seem to magnetize towards me like a magnet to a refrigerator, and I've "fallen" into more than my share of temp jobs. I know, I know...I have to be what I want to attract.

Just for today, I'll keep knocking on some doors (preferably the ones that lead to Heaven), and walk through the ones that are already open and lead to good places.

Dear God,

What the fud? What is the deal here? I think I have a bad connection or something. I'm looking for some direction here and not to make a big snafu out of it, but I have tried everything; quiet meditations with burning candles, Buddhist temples, 12-step programs, and still...I get nothin'. If I did something to offend you, please let me know...because sometimes I let my mouth run. But, if you're speaking to me, you're going to have to get a little louder, bolder, flashier colors and so on. I'm looking for a billboard sign, possibly neon, with maps and clear directions.

Thanks!

Stella

I think I'm annoying my friends with the barrage of confessional self-obsessed monologues that seem to stream out of my mouth without any self-control. I love to reflect on my "issues," discuss my "process," and what I said to therapist (and what she said back)...I can't help it, I get some high of off inner growth (or at least the attempt at it). But there does comes a time when I have to learn to start keeping it light. It's OK to discuss the weather, or the decorations on the restaurant wall, or my nail polish. It doesn't all have to be about the dregs of my childhood, a literary comparison of religious text, the meaning of life, etc...What should I have for lunch? Who's winning (whichever sport)? What's going to happen on the season finale of "Friends?" See, I'm practicing.

Just for today, I can keep it light.

I don't believe in resolutions, because the idea of failure is endemic to the word "resolution." However, I do believe in fresh starts and changes, and a "vision" for the New Year. For some reason, I can feel that 2004 is going to rock. In fact, I was so sure of it, that I was writing 2004 on my checks back in June (mostly, I just wanted to kick 2003 out the door. Not that it didn't have its moments, but enough with the pain!).

My personal vision for myself for 2004 can be summed up with the following statements: I relinquish my need to judge any people, places or things, not even women who get stuff put in their upper lip to make them look like their husbands just beat them (though, I admit it does give me a chill), or even judgmental people (though I guess I am judging judgementalism, since I judge it worth relinquishing). I also relinquish the need for control over my life (which takes the form of obsessive thinking) and self- and other-criticism (which takes the form of a running dialogue of 14-year-old caddiness in my head). I envision an open heart in romantic relationships, new avenues of income, and spontaneous adventures (which entails NOT using the phrase "I'm really tired, I think I'll just crash." It's good a few times a year, not every weekend!).
And, finally, since nothing ever seems to turn out as I plan it, I relinquish all attachments to specific visions (I'm not even going to envision the opposite of what I want in a manipulative attempt to fool the universe).
I also plan to paint my kitchen, get more pedicures, and actually read my blogs after I've typed them for typos (even if they makes me cringe with embarrassment...God, who would write that?).

So long 2003! Seeya never!
Happy New Year's!