Power of How?

What the feck am I going to do without him? Who am I going to call when the refrigerator starts talking to me and the walls fall apart? He says he trusts in my abilities to stay lighthearted and to recover. Do I? Can I go to Fresh and Easy and buy prepackaged lunches without running into the parking lot and watching the emptiness? No no no, there is no emptiness. Only fullness. Go read some Eckhart Tolle or something. Go on.

Dr. S and his Footprints

I wonder how many Dr. S entries there will be from now on. He's been, aside from M. of course, and A., THE most important person in my life for nine years, saving me from possible doom and a life in a Glendale mental hospital (just kidding, but sounds dramatic, i.e. good). As the corny saying in his office said: some people leave footprints on your heart. It's been one day and already I cannot remember the whole saying. How willing the mind is to forget. But forgive? I'm angry at his desertion. But all there is are IKEA pillows to beat.

Dr. S Calls It Quits

Dr. S is no more. He didn't die or anything but he may as well have. He retired, deserting ME and all of his patients. He wants to write books and go to ashrams. So do I, but you don't see me retiring.

Rebirth of Uncool

We were sitting at Chango's when some dude walked by with a skateboard. It was striking because dude was in his 50s and wore ginourmous black Frankenstein shoes. Dad says: these shoes are terrible. I says: yeah, but they make him feel cool. Dad says: what do you have that makes you feel cool? I wanted to say M. But really I have nothing that makes me feel cool these days. Dad says: your sunglasses? Me: no, these are my uncool glasses, I left the cool ones at home. Which was true. And so sad: I'm so not cool.

Old People

Old people go to CVS early to pick up their drugs. So don't go early. They pay with checks and like to chat.

Are You Pregnant or are you Just Happy to See Me?

It's a bummer that Giuseppe (whom I dated for two weeks when I was 14 and he was 13 and who still looks smokin'), when I met him for a drink on Tuesday pointed at my STOMACH and asked: are you sure you can DRINK? As an answer, I ordered a mojito and sucked it down like the evil baby-killing psycho that I am. Sad, though, that my weight is at an all-time high in the middle of the summer I turn 40. Meh.

Hate It in a Non-Hate-y Kind of Way

I haaaaate Lucky magazine in a non-hatey, kind-of-lovey kind of way: business suitiness. Need we say more? It's at once incredibly playful and at the same time utterly stupid in a Lucky magazine-y kind-y way.

Thetans

I got a message at work. A girl named Theta (Satan? Thetan?) called because she knows I need assistance. What, is she some psychic freak? I do not need spiritual assistance or any other kind of help. Or rather, I need it but do no want it. Maybe she means assistants? But the message clearly read "assistance" and E. said she sounded really weird. And that name! I'm being pursued by a telepathic scientology freak. This hasn't happened since the crows and the Sai Baba people followed R. and I around. Eek!!!

Thetan - Wikipedia: the concept of thetan (pronounced /ˈθeɪtən/ THAY-tən) is similar to the concept of spirit or soul found in other belief systems.

Top 10 in July

1. Dennis Hopper at MOCA
2. Champagne cocktails
3. The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
4. Soccer on the new TV
5. Mucha above my desk
6. the arrival of the "sausages"
7. dreaming of rain
8. floral prints
9. purple-red lips
10. foie gras

Neck in Question

I wonder if wearing a heavy, knotted, silver, long necklace makes my face look thinner. I wore it this morning and A. said I look nice!

Phenter-Mean!

I must be close to being better (i.e. officially all sane), because on Tuesday, I could really laugh with Dr. S. about the fact that I gained six pounds while taking the diet drug Phentermine. It's supposed to decrease your appetite; instead it increased mine, the way heroine did for A. and made him all rolly-polly. Instead of heart palpitations and agitation, I felt a deep calm that lasted all weekend, until I stopped it cold one morning after stepping onto the scale. Now, that's some serious irony Echo Park hipsters will forever elude. I will gild the bottle and place it on my altar next to shiva the destroyer.

Fat Compliment

Yesterday, as I exited the office building, the OTHER doorman started talking to me. The short Mexican one who is super friendly and always smiles and waves in a kind manner. We chatted and introduced ourselves. Then he said: I didn't know you had a baby. I saw your car seat. You don't look like you have a baby. I asked him why I didn't look like someone who had a baby, figuring it must be because I work with G. or because I wear high heels or look business-womany somehow. And he said, as the golden light of God shined down on us and illuminated us like two holy figures on the Ganges river: You're not fat. Most woman who have baby, they are fat like me. You look good. I almost floated to my car. My feet didn't touch the ground, so silly felt I. What a totally random, silly, untrue thing to say. But how sweet! I am NOT fat in the eyes of I-already-forgot-his-name-but-will-always-remember-his-eyes!

Rock Stars

Milan is officially a little boy. The other day, I found a small rock in the dryer. He must have had it in one of his pockets. Ah, to be 2 1/2 years old!