I — unknowingly — dropped my iphone in a big cuppa joe yesterday morning and didn’t notice it until the damn thing had been marinating for a good half an hour. This meant removing the cover (to dry) only to discover that it was shattered glass.

I had a surprise upgrade day! I was really hoping to hold out till October (my bet for the iPhone 6 release).

Moral of story? Cappuccino is NOT iPhone friendly. This was Karma kicking my behind. I openly made fun of people this last week who drop their phones in water, toilets, baths, sinks … SUCKA-PUNCH. Coffee. Really. Geesh.

Hanging head in shame.

###

I was never one of those girls who dreamed of a heart-shaped diamond engagement ring life (which automatically comes complete with chain link fence, kid tied to a tire in the front yard and matching tattoos by the way. Yeah. That little warning s engraved on the inside of the ring but nobody ever pays attention to it).

Awww. Shore is purty in that ethical non-blood diamond, cubic zironia sort of way! It is diamoneaque-esque. Moissonite. Plastic, no… plastique. 

Love. Ahh, sweet love.

I did not even dream bigger – but I got the custom ring, the white picket fence and two perfect children. Far more upscale, really. (And depression. And a divorce. Whoops)

(Don’t know who that boy is … maybe he belongs to the neighbors)

Come to mama.

It was a dream, just not necessarily my dream.  I mean, it turns out that the kids are definitely part of my dream now and I adore them and would never do taksie-backsies on those brilliant, amazing and beautiful babies. But my dream was always one of independence and adventure. I wanted to be Dame Freya Stark or Gertrude Bell. I am the woman who freaked out when I saw the Disney movie “Up” because SHE NEVER GOT TO PARADISE FALLS!!! What a waste!

I did often dream about what my life would look like when I was in control. When you are little, everyone tells you what to do and you think it will get better when you are an adult. It doesn’t. People still tell you what to do and try to push you around. It is only when you stop living other people’s lives that you start living your own.

There is a lot of living to do.

(cue Janet Jackson)

As my little home is starting to come together – I get the sense that I am building my kingdom. From scraps, but it is mine. Not quite Paradise Falls but i’m getting there … and Cambodia is still on my short list.

###

Evil Dead: The Musical. It exists! IT REALLY EXISTS. How did I not know about this blend of Rocky Horror grade goodness until now? I am there. I am so already there I have joined the cast and am shadowing them like a glee-club kid and they now have restraining orders against me. That is how there I am.

It combines 1, 2 and Army of Darkness into one show. There is a splatter-zone! And yes, I want that soundtrack.

THIS IS MY BOOMSTICK!!!

###

My last week was insaniballs. I was on fast-forward all week. I took Friday and did … well … nothing. I think my big accomplishment was reading Lucky Magazine and ordering a pizza.

A zen sort of day.

###

Speaking of zen, I have this amazing therapist who has me focusing, for the first time, on finding my place in the world, firmly grounded with a responsible, adult and wise mind, compassionate heart and peaceful outlook. It has been so good for me and is the first time I have ever really committed to regular therapy. I am six months in. It has a made a huge difference in how I approach everything now.

I am learning how not to be in the mode of constantly reacting, constantly managing crisis, constantly taking on the ills of the universe and making them mine. There is this diagram of a figure-8.

On one side – you exist.  On the other – everyone else you know exists. It is crucial to health to be able to travel the outskirt, emotionally visit those you know and have empathy for their problems but return back to your side of the 8 and know where your center is. I tend to break open the middle part of the 8 and let everyone else’s issues, problems, thoughts, urgency, emotions, demands and crisis completely overwhelm me.

###

She said something poignant to me: “Do you know what a dutiful woman [daughter, sister, wife, etc...] is?”

I said: “No.”

And she said: “Miserable.“

It is so true. People who are constantly trying to please others, constantly trying to appear perfect in the name of meeting both external an internal expectations… they are miserable. I spent years miserable – mostly my own doing.

###

I recently planned a trip to Hawaii to finally scatter my dad’s ashes to sea. Totally appropriate, he would approve (this is one thing I can see him smiling about and telling me not to skimp on food because he hates it when people go to Hawaii and don’t appreciate the local culinary scene).

I never feel entitled. If anything, I am the Queen of not being entitled. I can talk myself out of anything. But this? Giant F yes, I am entitled. I had one hell of a year. My father, my anchor, died and I had to usher him out with compassion and grace and insane medical decision making with NO preparation. It might as well have been a death due to car accident. Then I inherited a mess of both emotional and physical proportions that cannot ever really be explained to anyone who wasn’t there. Someday it will make an excellent book [Think Hugh Hefner, hoarding, OCD, neglect, lies and probate court --- and that is merely the tip of the iceberg]. Then I almost die with people in hazmat suits and ice beds with anal probes and I spend 3 months high on narcotics for pain maintenance. Then I got divorced.

SO yeah. I am entitled. I want a goddamned bottomless mai tai and my feet propped up on  a lanai with an ocean breeze. I want to forget, for a moment, that so few people have asked me how I am actually doing. I want to forget, for a moment, that my whole world bottomed out last year.

So the next time someone judges me for making a pilgrimage to bury my father or says “Must be nice” I will say “YES. Yes it is. And I hope you never experience what I did in order to make it happen.”

Mahalo.

###

I changed my mind. This is the card I want to hand out now:

###

A friend from college is in Sintra, Portugal right now and I am so green with jealousy that I fear I may stay that color. Sintra is one of my favorite places on the planet. I spent some time going through photos online and find myself wishing I had the resources to drop out of life for a while and make Portugal a temporary home.

Casa Miradouro

The best hike

Pena Palace

The whole place is magic. Sigh,

###

I have gained a depth of experience over the last year in things like death and taxes and today is tax day. Completely unhappy to report that I owe. Not only do I owe – I owe more than I can get my head around thanks to the laziness of a certain business that shall remain unnamed (cough). If only they had agreed to create a five-year payout for my father’s death benefit, I would not be handing years of his hard-earned money to the IRS. This infuriates me. Not because of the amount, but because it represents work and unnecessary loss. I believe in paying my taxes, I believe taxes are there for a reason. I have no problem with that. What I hate is temporarily being taxed like I am some big roller when it is not a reflection of the reality.

That money could be going to their amazing charity or to my children’s education fund or to something worthwhile if it had only been broken up. It wasn’t mine to begin with, but now it is the governments. My dad used to say “I am not getting married again. Just going to find a woman I hate and buy her a house.” Well, looks like the IRS is that woman. Cheers daddles.

###

(Editors note: I wrote this post and it was brilliant and then my laptop glitched and half the post edits were lost. This is now a shadow of the former post and makes me grumpy but I am too lazy to dedicate that much time to double-editing so I made coffee instead). 

You ever had a really good week but knew that something was still off?

I feel like I need to hand a card to people that says this:

***

“Hi. I am Jess. I am not quite myself. I have a lot going on, probably more than you could fathom and I am not saying that to be dramatic. Take a lifetime of experience and slam it in to 24 months and THAT has been my existence of late. I am insanely busy. I don’t sleep well. I can’t shut off my brain. My sense of humor is dark, my nerves are exposed and I am – in all likelihood- on the brink of telling everyone I know to piss off.  Make eye contact at your own risk. Ooooh… too late.”

***

Yes. I’m in a charming place.

I try to take time off to think things through, to do some self-care and all that accomplishes is feeding the pending sense of doom that I am not getting enough done.

And i’m not. I have a to-do list that is immense and I realize that we all die with to-do lists but I feel like I am treading water. I start avoiding people because they ask me about task a, b or c and I have no updates.

###

I need a cat. Just own that I am a crazy cat lady and will only be happy with a fur baby.

###

A friend suggested a hand-out card for “Why you don’t want to date me.” This reminds me of my friend K and her idea for pamphlets. This could actually save a lot of time. 

Hi. I am Jess. You don’t want to date me. You think you do. You don’t.

• I know exactly what I want and I want it exactly my way without compromise. This means I am impossible to please but I don’t respect anyone unless they can stand up to me.
• I think romance is dead. All my attempts at being romantic towards someone else have been shot down, mocked or been otherwise disastrous.  I now just get myself flowers. The last guy to buy me flowers did so because “nobody ever brings her flowers.”  Pity flowers! That said, I am probably holding out for the person who can convince me otherwise – knowing that person does not exist. This makes me an actual hopeless romantic.
• I am not materialistic (because honestly, you can’t take it with you in the end) but I still want to be lavished with gifts … and then pretend that I don’t want any of it or that it doesn’t matter.
• I am fiercely independent but want someone to make caring for me a priority.
• I value my space, and yet will be eternally irritated if the person I am with does not want to spend all their time devoted to me.
• I value intuitiveness and creativity and decisiveness and action and honesty and kindness. Mostly intuitiveness.  I realize this means I should date a woman.
• I don’t naturally say “I love you” or give praise unless it is to my children. And I always put my children first. Always.

I am a big pile of contradictions. Or something that comes in piles.

Yes. I have a therapist. Geez.

I feel terrible for mocking Eat, Pray, Love as a self-obsessed twits adventures in wonderland. I swear, it is time for me to go to Italy and chow down on some pasta, go to India and join an ashram and then head over to Bali (or some other SE Asian Island Nation) and find “enlightenment” along with an older Brazilian gentleman in the import business who thinks overfed, cerebral, pale, wordy and “enlightened” American chicks are hot and wants to restore my faith in humanity, the institution of marriage and romance in general.

Or I can just start frequenting the Power Exchange in SF. And have cats…

###

You know that sinking feeling you get when you see the Facebook advertisements on the sidebar and think “somehow this is targeted to me.” Mine are particularly targeted at the moment: Modern Design, Stiletto Heels, Birthday Flower Cakes, Intimate Sexual Devices, Vintage Designer Bags … wait, what was that? Yep. Vibrators. Wow. Thanks Facebook Advertising Gurus. Clearly you know I am divorced. Thanks for the giggle.

###

This made me laugh. The Internets are bombarded with all these sentimental quotes photoshopped over pretty girls or couples (seriously, check out Pinterest and you would think everyone is so busy loving romantic quips and self-esteem boosting quotes that they have forgotten how to speak normally).

I love quotes from bright people I admire. It concerns me when people speak cliche or sound bites. There is more to language than that. American English is limiting but beautifully descriptive and can be used so creatively. I wish more people would dig deep to find what they really want to express.

###

I am convinced that all the picquotes are being generated by a 15-19 year old girl at 3 am while high and mad. I want to grab that girl and tell her to stop making picquotes about true love being matching tattoos. For chrisssakes, do not get matching tattoos! Kiss of death sister. Also, true love is not a guy removing his phone lock and having you read the texts he gets.  Child, that statement is crazy! You put a lock on that phone so that if it gets lost or stolen nobody can use it. If you are that paranoid, get the password. Or… ditch him. And the body hatred/ pro-ana picquotes? Damn girls, you are turning on yourselves like blood-thirsty piranhas. Thighs touch. Bellies jiggle. Butts be big. That makes us women and not 10 year old boys. So much negativity.

I need to offer classes. Seminars. I adore the teen years. They are so incredibly smart and funny and open and full of potential.

I ran a good game back in my day. Juggled the boys, was totally self-interested and ran the streets like a man, Actually, better than any man I have yet met (yeah, I brag). Always with the caveat of doing minimal harm (and I am pretty sure I have apologized profusely to those that I did harm). If more girls saw themselves as powerful, there would not be this many painfully powerless picquotes littering the Internets.

These poor girls. Where are their strong mamas? Their strong papas?

Because here is the thing: Men are amazing. There are really great guys out there. I have been a guys-girl my whole life. I won’t belittle men and say they are simple creatures, but honestly ladies … you have the power. Most guys are smitten with confidence and independence. Be powerful. Do you. Everything else will fall in line.

If a guy needs a lineup of girls because he is afraid of what life will be like if one leaves him and always has to have a back-up plan… ummm … that guy has mommy issues.

If a guy compares you to our porntastic puritanical culture … set the record straight. That is entertainment. Not reality. You know how great music makes you feel? That super intense thing that moves you? You don’t need the music video to tell you the story, to tell you how to feel. The music video is entertainment, an interpretation. The music is real. You are the music. You are reality. If he buys in to the madonna/whore complex and wants a stripper culture life, then his mama didn’t raise him right and his dad didn’t show him how to man up. Not the guy for you. Move on.

We tell our girls they can be anything. Until they hit puberty. Then they can be anything as long as they are hot and sexy. It is gross.

I guess what it comes down to is just be cool. Be weird. Laugh a lot. Be kind to people and animals.

###

The advantage of always speaking the truth is that you don’t ever have to remember what you said.

Quote THAT. Yo.

###

It was time to repost this. THe bloggess is wise.

###

Note to self: It was a full moon. Explains so much.

###

I am an Aries. My mother swears I was two weeks late on purpose because I was so damned determined to be an Aries. It is probably true – certainly sounds like me to postpone my own birth in order to get my way…

I like to get my way.

Sometimes I feel like a spectator in my own life sport. Like I just sit back and watch it unfold and make random commentary and nod and clap or say “ooooooh” when something goes awry. Oh dear lord, my life is a Wimbleton match. Very polite and British.

I have lived and loved hard. I am in a new chapter of my life. I would like this new chapter to have some fun and ease to it.

###

I wish I could get “New Low” out of my head: Well who am I? A cold shoulder used to cry. You feel bad? Well so do I. Yeah, so do I. 

It has remained, on repeat, in my brain for fourteen months. Probably need to remove it from my playlists and replace it with something more upbeat, like a funeral dirge.

###

Speaking of funeral dirges – Maui!

Finally booked and put it on lockdown. Two weeks in Maui with some of my favorite people that walk the Earth. TWO WEEKS. Boo-yah.

Arranged my father’s ash scattering service. It is a beach service with paddle-out on surfboards. Daddles loved Maui. He hated sand, shorts and swimming. And most outdoors activities. But … he loved Maui because of the warmth and beauty and good food (Mama’s Fish House).

So what does a wild pale unicorn do in tropical places like Maui? She wears her sunblock and a big ass hat and owns her freakishly porcelain skin (and freckles). I have not been to Maui since I was sent there for being an unstoppable business development guru during the dot.com boom. That would have been 12 years ago. Took a Camaro convertible the back way to Hana, launching over potholes bigger than the car … and almost hit a cow … and met the Pointer Sisters.  Good times.

###

It is fun to say Kukui Nut Lei. I recommend it.

###

Last October, I defied doctor advice and went to Universal Studios for their Halloween asskickery. I ran from zombies. It was so much fun. Sick, crazy fun. If my sister (Honeybadger) and I were not totally bonded as is, that definitely sealed it. Nothing says “I love you” like watching your sister get chased down a dark alleyway by blind nurses with bloody knives.

It was a life changer.

While there, I saw a psychic for a $25 palm/ tarot reading. I am the worlds biggest skeptic (even though I have great people reading skills myself). The visit with that psychic was scarier than anything I encountered (including clowns with chainsaws) that night.

When I left, I was shaking. I started to tear up. I was completely freaked out.

She knew everything about me. EVERYTHING. She asked no leading questions. There were two “psychics” in the tent and my sister walked in ahead of me. The blonde psychic looked at my sister, shook her head and said “No – you go over there” and pointed at the other psychic. She looked at me and said, “Yes you. You sit right here.” She stared at me with laser-like intensity and was all business.

She said a lot of things that night. Some I might not be able to ever really talk about because it is just too personal.

• From taking my hand, she knew I had been incredibly sick and almost died. She assured me that it was the last of it and I would be okay physically in the long run.
• She said I did not take that experience seriously enough.
• She knew that something snapped and I changed as a person with my dad’s death.
• She knew I was planning on starting my own business and advised me to avoid anyone who wanted to partner with me in my business as I had to “do it on my own.”
• She knew I was married – at the time – (was not wearing my ring)
• She knew I had two girls.
• She was aware of my finances and my spending habits.
• She said that there were people in my life who would attempt to use me and that I had to curb my instinct to ruin them, and just let them pass through, unharmed as it would benefit me at a later date for doing so.
• She named a number of people in my life with such specific detail that it was eerie.
• She named a number of events in my life with such accuracy it was scary.

She told me that I would have a completely different living situation by February of 2013. How crazy is that?

At the time, she said that I was very troubled and needed guidance and offered me her services in Los Angeles. She said people were asking too much of me and she feared for me. She was talking about something short of an exorcism with spiritual cleaning and realignment (???). She gave me her card. I was in such shock and thought she was trying to give me the hard-sell and so I said no and walked. I lost her card.

Now I want to know who the hell that woman was!

(Of course, my sister got the “Your dad is around you and looking out for you, you are married to your soulmate” type of reading.)

###