Cancer sucks

My beautiful boy dog has been living with cancer for over a year now. He romps around like a puppy and lives for belly rubs, sniffing his friends butts, and eating as much as we'll allow. Over the weekend we noticed that Jackson was having quite a lot of trouble defecating. My greatest fear was realized when we learned that he has a large tumor in the colon preventing proper elimination. We will not be putting him through another surgery especially since the doctor said that given the location of the mass it would be a very difficult surgery and an even more difficult recovery, if at all. We will not tolerate one second of suffering for our sweet lovebug so I just pray that I understand the right moment to send him over the rainbow. For now, you would never know he has a terminal illness. Our hope is that the medication he's on will move everything through his system "like butta" and he'll live comfortably and normally for as long as possible or at least until God decides it's his turn to have all the joy and love and life that we have enjoyed with my furry little friend.

Keeping America Working

It's been awhile since I've put pen to paper as it were. We've lived in our house 9 years now (9!) and are finally getting around to adding that desperately needed 2nd bathroom. Oh how I've longed for having just few steps to toddle in the middle of the night or the privacy a queen deserves as she contemplates her throne. Over a year ago we secured our funding, hired an architect and started hashing out design plans for a master suite equipped with an en suite bath and walk-in closet. Rather quickly we determined that we weren't going to be able to build how we had always envisioned so the challenge was upon us to get creative. The placement of our new space was Damon's idea and, although the architect presented some interesting plans, I ultimately designed the room myself. With city approval and stamped permits I gave to the go ahead to heave hoe and demolish the bedroom wall that we were building out to gain the extra square footage we need to accommodate the bath. So Damon rounded up neighborhood friends to help out and when I returned home that evening ALL the walls were busted out, not just the ONE we're expanding. I thought Damon had lost his mind so I consulted with our neighbor/contractor/framer/craftsman and he assured me that it was part of the plan. I clearly had no idea how involved this project was going to be. Something to do with a shear wall and steel beams. We aren't even adding a second story and we had to put so much steel in this thing it's solid as a bomb shelter.

Here are a few pictures of our progress. We've been at it since June 14th and I have no idea when we'll finish, assuming we have the money to finish, but it is starting to take shape to the point where we have a sense of the spacial arrangement and a general feeling of what it will be like. We have purchased or at least decided on the finish materials we'll be using, which is supposed to be the fun part but, in all honesty, it's been really difficult (at least for me) to visualize how it will all come together. I'm just hoping that my vision translates as well in reality.

Before: Comfortably living like the Cleavers



Demolition Derby: In and out



I hope the neighbors like the view!



If only Haiti had our building code. Look at all that steel!



Starting to take shape: bedroom in the foreground, bathroom at left rear, closet on the right



What it looks like today



Is Jimmy Hoffa under there?
RIP our savings account. What a nice touch from the concrete guys.

Bye Bye Birdie

My friends have fledged and moved (or in the process of moving) away :(
Check out these gorgeous images of the owlets
http://mollysbox.wordpress.com/blog/

Hoo's watching me?

This is so priceless I can't help but share. Follow the link to the owl cam and be amazed and amused. Best reality show ever!!!


http://www.sportsmansparadiseonline.com/Live_Owl_Nest_Box_Cam.html

PETA convert

I love what the group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) stands for but their Nazi antics are sometimes a little much to stomach. The latest hair-raiser, however, is not only a statement of epic gravity it's hilarious. They've offered to relieve Octo-Mom's financial woes and save her house from foreclosure under one condition... that she agree to plant billboard on her front lawn in favor of neutering your pets that reads, "Don't Let Your Dog or Cat Become an Octomom. Always Spay or Neuter."
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!

"Give me liberty, or give me death"

It was 235 years ago today, incidentally, that Patrick Henry shouted these famous words. I can't help but recall them now on the day that President Obama signed the senate health bill into law. I vehemently believe that all people have a right to quality, affordable health care. Moreover, I believe that freedom overrides all other basic rights and that's exactly what we've sacrificed here today. I don't think people really understand the magnitude of the government intervention that will undoubtedly follow. This is another way for the feds to intrude on our lives. I know it can be argued that without good health liberty is moot and death is eminent. I think a better use of time and tax payer money may be to focus on insurance company abuses and excesses rather than strong-arming the American people - people who do not have a right to MY money.

I have not read through the bill, which I fully intend to do, so I can't comment with authority on what's good and bad about it. What I can comment on is that I think competition is the answer to quality, affordable insurance. When we're in the market for any other product - a fridge, a car, auto insurance, a dentist - we shop around for the best value; the best price, quality, attributes, etc. Competition inspires innovation and commands attention to consumers' demands otherwise you're snuffed out. It also spurs more efficient operations. Being able to buy insurance across state lines is a good place to start. It's absurd that you currently can't! I'm sure there are plenty of stories out there but I personally know a self-employed guy who pays $600/month for insurance with a $1700 annual deductible. He needed an MRI and had not met his deductible for the year. He asked the clerk at Cedars Sinai how much they would be billing the insurance company for the procedure and they said $6000. He then inquired what the price would be if he paid them in cash without going through insurance and they said $700. Of course the insurance company wouldn't have paid the fee that the hospital was asking but let's say they would approve $2500. It was cheaper for him to pay them directly than to have his insurance company bill him $1700 and still pay $800, $100 more than the procedure actually cost. If he had shopped he may have been able to save even more.

Reform is absolutely necessary but maybe we should redefine the function and limitations of health insurance. What I mean is to consider using insurance only for catastrophic events; i.e. hospital visits, surgery, cancer treatment, expensive procedures and drugs, hypothetically. If a doctor's visit cost say $50 rather than $300 for 10 minutes, people may be able to pay out of pocket as opposed to involving the insurance company, thus cutting some of the costs. You could liken this to a door ding you might have dent wizard repair versus going through insurance. Eliminating waste by eliminating the layers between the doctor and patient and the insurance company is another way to significantly reduce costs. Perhaps a concoction of various program elements could be tailored to each individually insured, including health savings accounts. For instance, my employer offers health insurance but they only pay a small portion of the premium and I am responsible for the remainder. Since I do not visit the doctor very often I opt to pay a lower premium each month and a higher annual deductible. The unused portion of my deductible is banked for the next year and rolls over saving me and the insurance company a whole lotta dough.

I also believe focusing on health and wellness and holding people accountable for their own life choices would be a general benefit to us all. If I'm paying any portion of someone's health insurance I want to be able to say they can't smoke, drink soda, go sky-diving or any other lifestyle choice that could tap my pocket-book when they have to use insurance that I'm subsidizing. This is not the kind of totalitarian country I want to live in and yes, personal freedom, choice and, consequently, responsibility is the baseline of being American and for me the most important right above all else.

Gotta give to get

I'm pleased to report that so many people are socially conscious these days and creating all kinds of things out of their love for mother earth and all things recyclable and selfless. I came upon this cool site Echoage, a birthday party invitation outfit with a twist. While I do not have children I have been to many a party where obscene amounts of gifts are lavished on children who have enough toys for lifetimes of children. Echoage has partnered with a number of national charities which would appeal to kids and the idea is that your birthday kid chooses one he or she would like to give a gift to. Echoage helps you choose your party date, an invitation and reminders and then sends them out to all your invitees who log on to donate an amount of their choosing toward your kid's birthday gift. After a nominal fee is deducted 50% of the raised funds go toward one gift for the birthday kid and the other 1/2 is donated to the charity of the child's choosing. A tax receipt is provided for the charitable gift and the kid gets one good thing he's been coveting with the aggregate dollars chipped in rather than a bunch of chotchkies. It is a wonderful opportunity to teach your kids about sharing what you have with others.

"When I think about you I touch myself"

The Korean spa experience, of course. We have a large Korean population in Los Angeles thus warranting a section of town devoted to the heritage, aptly named Koreatown. For years I've heard of a cultural bathing ritual and been curious to indulge myself at one of their spas. I generally don't mind doing things alone but I suppose I felt a little intimidated and wanted the comfort and familiarity of a friend. The difficulty in finding such a companion is that no bathing suits are allowed in a Korean spa. Yes, you and everyone else, all females, parade around in the nude. I have never been overly modest and vanity was a thing of the 1st quarter century of my life. But, not everyone is like me. Many people have serious body and/or modesty issues which I fully appreciate and respect. Admittedly it takes some getting used to to expose yourself to anyone let alone strangers. Luckily I have a friend who is as adventurous as me.

Our appointment for the "Goddess Treatment" was set for 10:30am. They suggest you arrive 45 minutes before your appointment in order to enjoy a whirlpool bath, steam and sauna. I arrived ahead of my friend so they whisked me in so as not to miss a moment. As this was my first visit they gave me a little orientation tour. Shoes in one locker, clothing in another. You will be
addressed as needed by your locker number, it is considered impolite not to shower before using the facilities and (thankfully) here's your smock. So I got myself situated wrapped in my little cover up and went off to the showers. The "bathhouse" is arranged with a hot mugwort tea bath on the left and another mineral pool beside it. On the right is an open room with 6 massage tables and a wall just high enough to give the impression that it's semi-private from the baths. Showers, a jade steam room and mineral sauna round out the perimeter of the room. Adjacent the pools is a shallow kind of trough filled with water and tiled edges. As I emerged from the shower and contemplating where to go first I caught a glimpse of what I will henceforward refer to as the monkeys. The monkeys are four aged Korean women sitting on the edge of the trough with a little tote in front of them which cradles their bathing paraphernalia. They intricately scrubbed every nook and cranny as they chatted and howled without awkwardness. I had a hard time averting my eyes because it seemed so social and natural and utterly disturbing as a Westerner where privacy prevails.

Then I moved into the jade steam room where I could only sit for about 5 minutes before I thought I'd melt. I decided it must be getting close to the time when Cindy would be arriving so I moved out into the common area where there is a heated jade stone floor for sitting and relaxing. I grabbed my library book (Stones into Schools - see another post for details) and found a spot on the floor. The experience with the monkeys left me feeling a little squeamish and wondering if this was going to pan out. I was certain that we goddesses would be on display in the room with all the massage tables. I was leery but what I immediately liked about his spa was its lacking pretentiousness. The Korean women invited us to participate and indulge in a special cultural tradition and I felt grateful. I could tell Cindy was equally uncomfortable when we entered the mugwort tea bath. By this time it was getting busy so we were practically touching other naked women in the tub. This is the antithesis of the American spa experience where it's all about you, to which we are both accustomed. We decided to try out the charcoal heated sauna. It has teak tatami-type mats that get so hot you can't walk on them and we couldn't talk but otherwise it was really nice. Number 19 was called so I was up for my treatment.

The "Goddess", exclusive to the Olympic Spa, is a treatment almost 2 hours in length and designed to renew. A short, blubbery Korean woman dressed in a scant black bra and panties uniform greeted and escorted me to the open massage room. Fluorescent overhead lighting and the echos of cackling women permeated the room as I was lead to the table covered in floral vinyl and ordered to slip off the smock and lie face down. I was cold, exposed and regretful - I'd already paid my money. And then it came. The glorious feeling of warm water doused over me from bowls resembling bed pans. Jung, the masseuse, then started scrubbing. I was praying that one of the monkeys hadn't hurled her scouring pad over the wall. Initially it felt like she was using steel wool on my rough, sun damaged, 40 something year old body. She scrubbed every little crease and fold until the upper dermis of my skin was lying on the table next to me. YUCK!!! Twenty minutes later more water and a slap on the butt cheek...time to turn over. So there I am, in all my full frontal nude glory, with a napkin over my eyes and Jung's blubber suffocating me. And let me just say that it was bliss. I did not feel pampered. I was not the only woman in the room. But I was getting my money's worth. Jung was working her fat sausages for fingers to the bone and this was exactly what I needed. When the front of me was done she squeezed some cleanser in my hands and told me to lather it into my face and go rinse off in the shower. I paraded out into the bath house with neither a stitch nor a shred of self consciousness.

A gorgeous, silky oil with the fragrance of meyer lemon was smoothed all over my back side with long, firm strokes as Jung laid her body over mine to reach to my feet. I have never had a more thorough massage. I am a harsh critic and very disappointed if my expectations aren't met. This little woman clawed at my muscles with such determination as if to pull every fiber apart and make them supple again. There were moments where I wondered if we'd ever tortured the Koreans during the war 'cause it felt a little like payback. On the flip side a luxurious emollient was applied to my face to wake it up for the cool mud mask that was painted on with the touch of an artist. She finished massaging my limbs, boobs and inner thigh as she cocked my leg to side for easy access. I was very happy she didn't have a speculum. She massaged by scalp with aromatic essential oils before washing and conditioning my hair and slathering a glistening cream to my renewed skin.
AHHHH!!!!!!!

Jung re-wrapped me in my sheath and sent my wobbly body back out onto the jade floor with radiant heating and a cup of tea where I caressed myself (I haven't been this soft since infancy!) while waiting for Cindy to share our experiences before heading off to a Korean lunch. We decided that our preliminary assessments were borne of a lack of cultural reference. We individualistic and private Americans do not have these types of social customs as other cultures do. I have to reiterate how grateful I am to live in a place where ethnic diversity abounds and I get the opportunity to sample it whenever I want.

My radio station, my friend

I am a subscriber and huge fan of KCRW, a local radio station that is my mecca for cultural affairs, my news source and wellspring for new music. It is on these airwaves that I learned of Daniel Merriweather, an Aussie singer from down under with haunting, soul-revealing pipes. I've noticed that Australia tourism has been ramping up efforts to get people into the country as evidenced by all the bulletin boards around town. As part of the campaign KCRW hosted a private, intimate concert for members with Daniel Merriweather on the rooftop of the Paley Center for Media in Beverly Hills. It was a Saturday afternoon, one of those awesome LA winter days where large white clouds hang like cotton candy on a brilliant blue background in the crispy air. We entered the Paley center, which was adorned with slideshows depicting Australia's beauty and loads of tourism propaganda and headed for the rooftop. There was a host bar offering flights of Australian wine and gorgeous woman serving equally gorgeous hors d'oeuvres. As the sun gave rise to the moon and twilight turned the sky that stunning shade of mauve and charcoal with the Hollywood hills as the backdrop, the artist took the stage.

This kid is sooo easy on the eyes! His persona nods to a bygone era with a chivalry and irreverence about him all at once. When he opens his mouth he is well spoken, funny and real. And when he sings he manages to let you see inside his soul. His voice is sultry even a bit rasp and he sings with a maturity that not many his age can or do. His band consisted of a female bassist, and lead guitar player who totally rocked it, a lounge lizard looking guy in a bow tie on keyboard and a youngster working his arse off on drums. The band is super tight and the singer sings sweet melodic songs about social consciousness, love and war, incidentally the name of his newly released released lp which I encourage you to run out and purchase. He does a very cool cover of the The Smith's Stop Me worth listening to.

After an hour long concert my boyfriend, Daniel, was briskly whisked away as if he were a superstar - presumably another gig - so we finished up our refreshments before heading to dinner. From Australia to Russia all in one night. We ate at a delicious Russian restaurant in LA and sampled the garlic infused Vodka toasting a lovely, eclectic afternoon.

Trapeze School?

I have the greatest, most thoughtful and generous friend in the world. We have shared innumerable amazing moments together from sky-diving to birthing her children. We fulfilled childhood dreams of going to Africa and now she's topped even herself by taking me flying.... trapeze flying!

Flight school is held on the Santa Monica Pier 7 days a week for 2 hours each session. After signing your life away and listening to a few rules the staff of really personable people - Ryan especially - go through some brief simulations on the ground. It's a lot to take in so he does a demonstration so you can visualize what to do in the air. When it's your turn you scale the ladder to a platform 20+ feet in the air. I was surprised at how heavy the bar actually is and jumping off the 1st time is a little nerve-racking. The trick we were supposed to do was to put our knees over the bar like we did on playground monkey bars as kids and swing until you are told to land. But since I am so challenged I could never quite make that happen. Since childhood I have struggled athletically. I will try anything but I'm usually lousy at everything. It's probably really easy but I could never lift my legs in unison at the right time to capitalize on the momentum of the swing and get them over the bar. There are instructors shouting commands throughout to help with that timing but I'm a tard. Depending on how many pupils in class determines how many chances you get to try. The capstone flight is one where you take what you've learned and leap through the air to the arms of a catcher on another trapeze. What fun, right?

Even considering the fact that I missed most of what I was supposed to do I had a blast and will try again until I get that maneuver down and can actually call myself a flyer. This is a highly rated activity on the fun scale.