Mommy with a Penis

At the insistence of my six-year-old daughter we took a much needed stroll around the neighborhood. And while engaged in a discussion about a magical, fuchsia and lavender-colored, flying horse named Princess Celestia (see earlier entry) , I spotted this. This made me wonder what would prompt someone to stencil this rather bothersome decree on their dumpster. Might there be a grizzly history attached to this dumpster?  Might it simply be a warning because of past grizzly events?  Or might it simply be a random tagging by a  conscientious  Crip? In 2001, about a year before Michael and I started the adoption process, "dumpster babies" were on the rise. Now, all fifty states have  enacted  their own version of the Safe Haven Law, which  allows parents to relinquish a newborn baby to any hospital (sometimes a police station or fire station depending on the state), within 72 hours of the child's birth without any threat of being prosec...

Yesterday, I'm driving home from a fundraising meeting at Maxwell's school when I hear the following three news items on the radio back to back: -A mountain lion was wandering around downtown Santa Monica. -A single-engined plane crashed into suburban Glendale. -A $50,000 reward was offered for anyone who has information about a double hit-and-run that fatally killed a 79 year old woman from Pacoima. And that terrifying news trifecta made me stop texting my husband, grip the steering wheel with both hands, and take in my surroundings as if at any moment destruction could be hurled into my path. Southern California with all of its earthquakes, mudslides, heat strokes and Kardashians feels as if it has gotten more deadly. It's lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my ...literally. The lion of yesterday, few weeks ago a mama grizzly and two of her young were spotted curled up in a tree in a residential area of Altadena, and the tigers...well, off the top of my head...

I'll be  honest, I was okay with his chess-playing ways. I trusted that his bald eagle emblazoned plate was pretty dog gone full. I mean, his to do list from the outset was enough to make most people curl up into a ball and take a nap for four years. I didn't need nor expect him to take the pro stance until well into his second term. But President Obama's announcement last week that he is now in support of gay marriage caught in my throat and brought tears to my eyes in a way I could not have anticipated. A sitting president of the United States has finally supported not only homomony , but also my own personal lifestyle, my marriage, my children and...in a word...me. Boy howdy, I cried like Sherri Shepherd after she was kicked off of  Dancing with the Stars. When I examine it, however, my emotionality may not solely belong to this momentous event. Let's face it, this last week was one for the books when it comes to gay marriage and gay marriage adj...

Eleven years ago today I married my husband. It wasn't a legal marriage, in the sense that it was not recognized by the government. However, we did get married in a church, and I defy anyone to tell me our wedding wasn't recognized by a much higher power. But this isn't about getting on my political high horse. This is about love, and a wonderful man, and a beautiful day eleven years ago... What a day. I think of all the planning that went into it. Typical list: the church, the reception, the dinner, the invitations, the flowers (blue hydrangeas), the photographer ( Tracey Landworth   she's brilliant, check out her link ), the wardrobe, the band ( Eddie Watkins Jr & The Go Big Daddy Band , also stupendous ), the seating arrangements, the cake, the open bar, the 150 guests, and our biggest splurge, the white chocolate place cards. Our families arrived before the ceremony to take pictures. This one is just brimming with racial harmony! Here's ...

Dear Jacqueline, Firstly, let me apologize upfront for a few things: the public manner in which I'm sending this, for any unnecessary exposition which will allow my readers to follow more closely, and also for my tardiness, but if you read my previous entry, you'll understand that illness has made me its bitch and almost three weeks later I'm still reeling from side effects. (My ear is still ringing!) To the thick of it then... Thank you so much for what you have given Sebastian, and in turn my family. Your talents at directing are immeasurable, and I don't use that word lightly. Working  was an absolute hit, and to see all those children up on stage, not only giving it their all, but also showing various levels of stage proficiency was mind blowing performance after performance. As you know, Sebastian bucked a bit at the thought of going to so many rehearsals. He'd get on the bus and come home rather than stay at school where you were weaving your magic. An...

Without getting into specifics, I've been on my back for seven days...and not in the good way. Why the fuck am I being quixotic? I'll tell you the specifics. What started as a cough continued into a flair of sinusitis and an ear infection. This led to flu like symptoms, you know, charming things like body aches, shakes, sweats, slight nausea, diarrhea. And add to that, what sent me skittering along the precipice...dehydration...again. I don't know why my body has never had a problem maintaining hydration until this year. My most embarrassing moment happened after I suffered through a painful, loose bowel movement and then broke out into severe flop sweat. My entire shirt was soaked through and I simultaneously felt like puking and passing out. The only thing I thought would give me any sense of relief was the cool tile floor. With my pants still around my ankles and my rear still unwiped, I placed my cheek on the bathroom floor hoping that this was the illness...

Jessica Simpson's cover of Elle this month seems familiar, doesn't it? And I don't think any of us has to dig too deeply into our sleep-deprived, vodka-soaked brains to suss out the reference. Who could forget the Vanity Fair cover that Annie Liebovitz shot so startlingly of Demi Moore's pregnant voluptuousness back in 1991? From the exact same pose, to the ginormous bling on their left middle fingers, to the fact these two celebutants are both carrying girl children, the Simpson pic is a duplicate of what some found scandalous twenty-one years ago. (Although I prefer Demi's arrogant in-the-distance gaze to Jessica's in-your-face,  Zoolander  directness.) But this piece isn't about who did what first, nor artistic integrity, nor is it about nudity on magazine covers, which for the record I am wholeheartedly for. No, this is about trends. Recently, Ms. Simpson announced that her baby girl will be named...take a breath here...Maxwell.  What!  For thos...