This is my first blog. Ever. I am starting it to give myself something to do in the evenings.
Usually I drink wine. However, as my husband and I are now officially "not trying to NOT get pregnant" or in other words playing it loose with the birth control, I fear my wine-swilling days are numbered.
So, with the forethought my parents showed when they brought home Nikita-the-Alaskan-malamute puppy once Maurice-the-French-poodle began to show signs of doggy Alzheimers in order that my brother and I could seamlessly transfer our canine adoration-- I am auditioning some new habits (like vainly stabbing away at a keyboard) in anticipation of the day that my OB-GYN and/or my husband pry the bottle of Syrah out of my hands.
About me: my husband Andrew and I live in Los Angeles. We have three cats and currently a pet brother-in-law.
Our city is weathering a disaster known as the writers' strike. Some of Andrew's landscaping business clients have postponed their projects because they are out of work and out of cash. Everyone in town seems to be affected somehow.
One of our TV writer friends regularly hosts a weekend-before-Thanksgiving cocktail party complete with hired bartender (who is usually a very cute, tattooed 20-something-- heavy with the booze and light on the tonic). The party will go on, but sans bartender. The invitation suggested we each sign-up for an hour shift and tend bar for the rest of the guests. Very democratic. I would definitely sign up, if I weren't attending a birthday party elsewhere (for aforementioned pet brother-in-law). Despite the reputation Los Angeles has earned for being plastic, it's times like these (and forest fires and hurricanes) that show that our communities can band together and volunteer for something that's bigger than us.
I hope that those out there who aren't in Los Angeles, think again the next time they open their mouths to whine about re-runs ("alreadyyyy!?") on "Ugly Betty" and consider the plight of those of us directly affected. Shame on you, there are people mixing their own drinks in Los Angeles. For god's sake.
3 comments:
Parents that don't anticipate the work involved in raising a Malamute puppy are only one step below those who don't anticipate the work involved in raising a child. Hang on to that bottle of Zirah!
DC
Mom? Is that you?
I first thought it was someone who didn't know me and was being snarky. Maybe a stranger thinking I was completely serious and a dangerous threat to the future unborn generation.
Then the poor spelling tipped me off. It's MOM!
Yep, I have no idea the work involved in raising children or dogs the size of ponies (ha ha, neither did you!)
I've always imagined myself a mother-- someday-- but I've put it off for just that reason. It looks like a f#@$-ton of work!
Thanks to your coaching, I've gone to college, gotten a Master's degree, changed careers a couple of times, bought a house, gotten married, and helped usher a 19 year-old step-daughter into the big wide world. I guess I'm kind of running out of excuses.
I'm not pregnant yet. Meanwhile, let me prepare myself by washing down this pre-natal folic acid tablet with a glass of "Zirah"... or maybe some "Sinfandel," right, Mom?
I THOUGHT it was SINfandel . . .
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