Pleasure Notes

The powers that be are scratching their collective heads, trying to figure out how to stop the current economic free-fall without pissing off the fat cats too much or letting the boys in the hood get too hungry. While the new Obama administration in Washington attempts to gain the trust of Wall Street and retain the trust of Main Street, those out in the street are simply stressed out. So I propose a quick-fix stress relief. Get yourself a coin bank! Here’s a way to keep cash close to home and bring back that childhood pleasure of dropping pennies into a slot, shaking your bank, hearing the clink of money and feeling the weight of your wealth in your hands. Now, I don’t encourage transferring your entire retirement portfolio into any of these coin banks, but I guarantee that at least one or two of them will bring a smile to your face.

Most Sleek Coin Bank: When not being mistaken for a drawer handle, it serves as a simply, sexy coin receptacle. Also works as a murder weapon, I imagine.

Sansone Coin Bank by Danetti

Most Baby Shower-Ready Coin Bank: Perfect for both boys and girls, this gift will gain you points with the freaked-out parents-to-be who just realized exactly how much college tuition will cost in 2027.

Duck Coin Bank by Reed & Barton

Most Mod Coin Bank: Minimalist and hot. Pairs well with the Most Bond-esque Bathtub. Must be broken to retrieve money.

Money Box by Kensaku Oshiro

Most Hipster-ific Coin Bank: Both cute and terrifying, it can easily pass as simple sculpture made by your slightly-disturbed next door neighbor.

Untidy Work Robo Bank by idstudio/Etsy.com

Most Labor-Intensive Coin Bank: It’s a fair-trade item, but whoever made it likely makes less in a month than we take home in a day, so just appreciate it, okay?

Beaded Pink Piggybank at wow-imports.com

Most Blinged-Out Coin Bank: For anyone who just refuses to see the Bedazzled Era die.

Crystal Piggy Bank by Team Sugar

Most Trauma-Inducing Coin Bank: Fugly is cool, right? And everyone likes secret hiding places. No one would ever guess this zombie doll holds your fortune.

Zombie Doll by Fuzzyfreaks/Etsy.com

Most Geek-Friendly Coin Bank: Does not require that you be a regular at Giant Robot or the equivalent, but this bank does eat your money, which makes it very hard for even the most jaded to not geek out just a little.

Gobbleit Bank at Firebox.com

Most Artsy-Fartsy Coin Bank: Pottery-making, hemp-clothed, bare-footed gypsies will befriend this whale, and quickly forget it also holds the cash to fund their next peyote trip.

Whale Bank by Moneybanks.co.uk

Most Kitschy Coin Bank: A kukaburo! In a gum tree! Equally at home in a Philippe Stark-decorated loft or your granny’s boudoir.

Kukaburo Money Box by Maxim Velcovsky

Most Emotive Coin Bank: Hey, you can’t blame the piggy for being as shocked as the rest of us at the state of things.

Pig Bank by Wildmud/Etsy.com

See. Wasn’t that more pleasurable than watching the Dow do its daily dance?

January has come to an end; it flew by in such a flash. I felt the same loss of time last year. Some would say I’m just getting older, but I defy those people. Besides, as my friend Egan will attest, I’m only 23. No. This time-warp phenomenon is simply due to a lack of focus. My mind is always going a mile a minute, usually in the direction of doomsday scenarios or sex or why people insist upon SuperPoking me on Facebook despite my abhorrence for the practice. There’s just not enough brain space in which to remember things, particularly the truly pleasurable things in life. Ask me about a natural disaster or my last break-up, and I can recount everything to the minutest detail. But otherwise, I will emphatically claim that nothing has happened and I’ve done nothing of interest. When I wrote 2008: Most Pleasurables last month, I finally embraced the idea, in a public forum, that my perception of the past is truly flawed. And hey, that’s a super cool relief! So I’ve decided to institute Most Pleasurables lists on a monthly basis. Because no matter how crazy the world gets out there, the pursuit of pleasure is why I’m here.

1. The inauguration of Barack Obama. Duh. That may be the highlight of the century, certainly the decade. I think you all know how I feel about it.
2. A new haircut. I freely acknowledge that I’m a high-maintenance gal, except when it comes to my hair. It’s the one place I actually might benefit from being a little more high-maintenance. I simply can’t be bothered. Which is why I go to the Vidal Sassoon Academy for a 21 dollar cut rather than shelling out the hundred bucks like I used to do. A trip to the Academy, while being a smart fiscal choice, can be traumatic. These are students, after all, with very sharp scissors. But this time, I walked in resembling a damp, mildewed, cloth mop and left looking… well… like a dry, clean, cloth mop, with layers.
3. Warm weather. Yep, I’m going to gloat a bit about living in Los Angeles. We do not get ice storms. We do not have to throw out our backs while shoveling snow. We wear scarves, hats, and gloves as accessories, not as life preservers. This January, the coldest overnight temperature was 41 degrees, for a few hours, one night. We had highs in the 80s almost half the month. It was 88 degrees on January 12^th. Now I’m sure this is all due to global warming, and it’s causing catastrophic environmental damage or something, but damn it gives me pleasure. And a wee bit of a tan.
4. Mom’s visit. As you get to know me more, you’ll realize how utterly remarkable it is for me to include this in a Most Pleasurables list. Like that of many mothers and daughters, my relationship with my mom is complicated and there have been many moments of high drama. This was the first visit in a very, very, very long time during which there was not a single argument. To top that, I had a fucking ball; I had a girls’ weekend in L.A. with my mom (and her best friend). To my chagrin, it is the first time I was able to fully see my mom removed from her “mother” persona, and I really liked her. I feel like a huge shift in our relationship just happened, one I didn’t even know was possible. I’m grateful, optimistic, and looking forward to the next time I see her.
5. A job. Not a small thing, people. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce claims that 2.6 million jobs were lost in 2008. Forbes Magazine estimates 162,962 jobs, in just the top 500 American companies, disappeared in January. How could the fact that I have a job not bring me profound pleasure at this moment in time?
6. Strengthening friendships. I am lucky. I have a lot of friends. I have a lot of comrades too. Now, I don’t mean that in a red-shirt kind of way. I’m talking about phenomenally awesome folks who are programmed into my blackberry but who I see only irregularly and usually in a group setting. These are the men and women with whom I’m constantly making vague plans, wanting to reach that next level of friendship, the one where, no matter what kind of mood I’m in or they are in when the phone rings, I answer the call. This month, for whatever reason, those vague plans transformed into activities and my friendships, new and old, are flourishing.
7. Not having to bury my cat. I’m still a little shocked that I’ve transmuted into a cat person, but this month proved the metamorphosis is complete. My cat caught some ghastly bacterium that is chowing down on her liver. Many cats die from the infection. Bella, thankfully, has not. She’s still on antibiotics and not completely out of the woods quite yet, but the vet is hopeful. So rather than having to put her to sleep (the cat, not the vet), I still get to spoil her rotten which, you may have guessed, is entirely pleasurable.

So that’s my January. How was yours?

For about five days in early November, 2008, I had a leaky eye problem. Every news story made me reach for the Kleenex. It wasn’t allergies. It wasn’t grief. It was profound joy and absolute relief. The same affliction came over me this past weekend, and has developed into a full-fledged crying jag today. Barack Obama has turned me into a complete sap.

By Shepard Fairey

I am like a PTSD victim. I had no idea of the weight put on my heart and brain over the past eight years until it was lifted.

By Jill Dryer

I recently heard James Taylor say – and I am paraphrasing here – he’d gotten so used to feeling out of step with the world, it was a shock to wake up and discover he was no longer alone. That is exactly how I feel. I got so used to constant, impotent rage at what was being done to this country and the world in the name of Patriotism and National Security and Moral Certitude and, most dreadfully, Democracy. The fact that we now have a President whose voice is not like nails on a chalk board, whose statements are coherent, whose intention is to make the world and our country a better place rather than just to make his dad happy and get good seats at sporting events, allows me to finally breathe again. And, let me tell you, I am taking deep breaths.

By Michele Roohani

So, while the leaky eye problem is a bit of an embarrassment, I must extend to Barack Obama, and every single person who voted for him, a most sincere “thank you.” I’m not expecting perfection for the next four or eight years. I just want to continue to breathe.