Here we go...

It all hits the fan this week kids. We move into our new house Saturday and David's movie, "Dismal", starts filming on Monday. Crazy timing.

I'm thrilled about the new house. It's a beautifully restored 1910 Victorian with about 1,000 more square feet than we have now plus an unfinished attic that could be turned into great play room some day down the road. I have a had a love hate relationship with our current place (love the yard; hate the small kitchen and no dishwasher). We will always be grateful for the good times we've had here and remember this little cape cod where we started our married lives together.

Declan was a complete champ on our trip to California. Laura said our visit energized Lisa in a way she hasn't seen her energized in months. It was excellent...we sat and laughed and laughed on the couch of their rental house in West Sacramento, You would have thought it was 5 years earlier in LA before she was sick. We talked about our crazy handyman (a Persian guy with a laughably bad hair piece and a crack habit who thought caulk would fix any and all home calamadies) and revisited memories of Lisa's disastrous dating past. I always told her she should write a comic memoir just about her horrific yet hilarious dating escapades. It would feature Silent Fart guy, the Star Wars action figure guy, the star of Flesh Gordon guy and the J. Crew model looking Stewart who had a penchant for punk music, S&M and swinging and who ended up becoming her husband for a while.

I'm still not ready to accept her not being on this planet.

Lisa Starrett Kicks Ass

This is my friend Lisa. I am in awe of her...and she would so laugh at me for saying that. She is currently battling cancer. Battling. Sounds like she is Thor or Xena or something. Well, she is waking up and swinging at her foe every day so maybe battling is the right term.

But the truth is she's gettting beaten and I can't bear it.

I am going out to California with the baby next week to see my dear friend for the last time. Things are bad for her and they've stopped treatment. It started in the breast and spread. There are tumors on her lungs now and the decision has been made that more chemo will be pointless. Her doctor said in February that she had between 2 and 8 months to live. Her friend and caregiver, Laura, wrote me an e-mail about her condition after the diagnosis but sent it to my old e-address so it was never bounced back. She thought the news shouldn't be delivered on the phone and thought I knew but I didn't. I just found out last week. This will be the third person close to my heart to die of cancer and I want to kick somebody or throw something. In old b&w movies Bette Davis would smash a crystal ashtray against the wall when things got out of hand.

All I know is Lisa is amazing. I met her when I first moved to Los Angeles. I needed a place to stay and couldn't afford to live alone...even in a studio. A friend and I scoured the want ads in the LA Weekly. After hanging up on lots of machines, I spoke with Laura because I liked her voice. That same night I toured the house and met Lisa, Laura's roommate. We all just clicked. I moved in that weekend.

We lived in Atwater Village (before it was cool) in a pink house. All three of us were single which is even more of a bitch in LA. Lisa was on the Atkins diet and espousing the benefits of protein so we all became peanut junkies. We'd come home from work, have a diet pepsi (or wine depending) and scarf down peanuts while deconstructing our days. Lisa is a masterful story teller and could make stories about down and out inner city elementary school kids poignant and hilarious.

She's also a total fox as you can see. She dressed better than any teacher I've ever seen. Her signature look was knee high leather boots, skirt just above the knee and cute top. Always totally stylish and hot without being overtly sex on a stick. The kids adored her understandably.

more tomorrow....

Al-Zarqawi? Meet Curly...

I'm coming off a really rough week at work. Sometimes I feel like I am in an elaborate practical joke. The many parallels to Dilbert and "Office Space" would surely seem cliched.

This last couple of years have been a huge adjustment. Going from freelance production work in a very loosey goosey environment to corporate America has been really bizarre. I mean I used to bail producers of rap videos out of jail when they'd get busted for blow and now I listen to my boss blather on about "employee engagement" and such.

I worry that the inspirational posters and cube mazes will start to become the norm in my world. And it's just so monotonous and draining. Some of the people really frighten me! My supervisor recently asked all of her reports if we'd like to attend a Christian rock concert to watch her husband rock out. Seriously.

One of my co-workers has a screensaver of Curly from the Three Stooges. This has prompted lots of Stooges sound effects from all of the office droids who walk by his cubicle.
One guy went by, stopped, did some of Curly's signature moves (complete with vocals) and then asked, "Hey - did ya hear the good news? They killed that Iraqi guy in an air raid!". The Curly screensaver guy said, "Yeah. Cool!" and then proceeded to talk some more about the genius that was Curly.

Bloggers bloggers everywhere

I promise not to say, in the course of this blog, that I don't know why anyone would want to read what I'm writing - let's face it, we've all got a wee bit of voyeur in us. Certainly you wouldn't be here unless a) I invited you to read my inanity or b) you stumbled upon this and were transfixed by the tales of my transformation into a suburban mama.

My sister and husband and step-daughter and friends all have blogs so I thought I'd try it out.

David is watching to "The Sopranos" in the other room. It's funny how ridiculous things can sound if you don't have a visual. Tony sounds like total doofus. HBO kicks such serious fanny. Can I tell you how much I love Deadwood? Moving on...

I think the main thing I'll end up posting about is my son...this amazing little fellow that has completely and absolutely rocked my world. The photo of him above is my current favorite. Well, it's actually not but I haven't uploaded the latest and greatest.

I have become THAT WOMAN who takes endless photos of her child...but I do pride myself in not talking only about him. i strive for balance in things, including a kid/work/hubby/friends/self balance. I have been exposed to lots of chicks who talk solely of their kids. While I think it is excellent to revel in the wonder of your kid and love them to the extreme, I feel sorry for the mamas that can't or won't speak of much else.

Babies Biting Razors

The level of "in the moment" alertness you have to have as a parent is exhausting sometimes. Here's an example of what I mean...the other night the baby was in the tub chortling happily. I turned away for a minute to let the dog and cat into the bathroom, as they can't stand being left out of any activity, and when I turned around Dex was nibbling on my razor with a big grin on his face. Not the handle mind you, the actual blade area of my razor. My stomache clenched as I grabbed the Lady Bic, visions of a Saw III style gore fest filling my head. Luckily, all was fine and he'd only tasted the rubber strip just above the blade but I felt like a huge weiner roast.