A Few Things I Don't Miss

Traffic--People here talk about the rush hour. I nod. But in my head I am laughing, oh you silly children, you don't know traffic. In Los Angeles, rush hour lasts all day. Around 11:15 AM, you can usually get through town with relative ease after the morning rush, but within a half hour, the afternoon rush starts and melds into the evening rush. From about 11:00 PM to 4:00 AM it is usually smooth sailing, but even then you can find yourself in some unexplainable gridlock. I commuted in this for years. And it aged me.



Smog--I don't need to explain this one. The smog in Los Angeles is infamous. There is a line in this song, one of my favorite songs about Los Angeles, that I think of every time I think of the smog. It varies from season to season. It makes me laugh because it is such a realistic conversation that might be had in the city.



Tagging--The idiotic signs and symbols that little thugs scrawl all over the fucking place. Every goddamn street sign, wall, curb, overhang, tree, in Los Angeles has some stupid little scribble on it. It is so stupid. I don't even mind graffiti. Graffiti, with it's colors and swirls, it's cartoon-like representations and it's text, can be beautiful and exemplify urban art. But tagging is just hideous. I really, really hate it. Have I made that clear?

I Didn't Know I Was...

No, I am not pregnant. But do you watch that show on TLC, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant? I mean, there are actually enough women that this has happened to that there is plenty material for a whole show. And it's not, I didn't know I was pregnant until I was five months along, or I didn't know I was pregnant until I started puking three times a day at work and needing to pee constantly. No, these stories are about real women who don't know they are pregnant until they are in labor. Let me clarify that. Actually, they go into labor but still don't know they are pregnant. They go to the hospital because they think they are dying where the doctors ask if they could be pregnant, and these dilated contracting women protest, "no, no that's impossible" but no no it is not impossible these women are pregnant and within in minutes, give birth. Sometimes they don't even make it to the hospital. After incredible pain, they feel the need to push out a giant poop so they go to the toilet sit down and push and out it comes. Except wait, that is not a poop it's a BABY! OH HOLY HELL!

And a lot of the women seem totally normal. OK, quite a few seem like drunken skanky dumbasses or really really obese women with a host of medical problems which keep them from having normal periods. But many of them seem just like ordinary overworked moms who contribute all their symptoms, back pain, exhaustion, etc., to the stresses of their lives. After watching the show I have this intense urge to run out to the pharmacy and buy up a bunch of pee sticks. But I am a rational person and so I resist the urge. There is no way I am pregnant. Or could I be? Due to breastfeeding, I haven't had a period in closing in on two years. Would I know the difference between exhaustion from lack of sleep and chasing after superbaby all day and pregnancy exhaustion? Would I contribute morning sickness to not paying attention to my diet? Could I be so out of touch with my body that I miss the signs that there is another human being living inside me? I hope not. I like to think that I know myself and my body well and that I wouldn't have ignored myself so much that I overlook something as momentous as pregnancy. But who knows. Who am I to judge? I guess it could happen. Anything is possible. But seriously, I am so NOT pregnant.

My Daughter, Rock Thrower

If rock throwing was an Olympic sport, Nola would win the Gold.


She would.

She's a champion.

What Happened to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness?

There is no pretty or poetic way to put this. Our finances suck. We are teetering on the edge of a financial abyss and we are not sure where the bottom is. And it SUCKS. Is it my fault because I "chose" to stay home with Nola? And I put "choose" in parenthesis because it wasn't really a choice as much as a necessity and the right thing for all of us but most importantly, the right thing for Nola. The fact is, I don't think I am to blame or should be blamed or should feel guilty (even though guilt certainly creeps into my head and heart often) because I know I made the right decision to stay at home with my child. She is happy and healthy and thriving and I don't think she would be the same child if she was away from me twelve hours a day and often more than that. My job was so far away from home. I just couldn't be that far from her. To me, it would have been irresponsible and cruel.



But I can't help being angry. We were the couple that did all the right things. I worked a job that wasn't "me" but it was stable and provided over half our income. We invested wisely. Paid our monumental student loans on time. Paid off credit card debt. Waited to have kids. Where did it get us? If I have any regrets, it is wasting all that time doing "the right things" when it didn't matter anyway. I wasted so many years in a job that took a little of my soul every day and driving a commute that I am pretty certain took years off my life. And all for naught. It is so demoralizing.

That said, I don't think I would change anything. Our successes and failures, our decisions good and bad, led us to Nola.

The Degradation of Conversation

A few statements that have come out of my mouth today.

Get out of her butt. --Said to the chihuahua Mateo who had his nose all up in Josie's (the mutt) business.

No, we don't eat dog food. --Said to Nola who has developed a fascination with the dog bowls. Hence, the next statement--

No, don't put your hand in there. It's yucky. --Said to Nola when she stuck her hand in the dog's water bowl.

Shoes don't go in the toilet. They go on your feet. --Said to Nola when she threw her shoe (fortunately an old shoe that no longer fits) into the toilet BEFORE I flushed it.

So, that is a snippet of my glamorous life.

Some More Los Angeles That I Miss

Hollywood Bowl
LA Opera
MOCA
Walt Disney Concert Hall - LA Phil
All Saints Church