Pleasure Notes

What was the best place of 2009? Coffee Shop? Pub? Retreat Center? Cubicle? Nook?

I’ve been sitting with this questions for over 24 hours. Why don’t you travel back over that time with me…

First off, I have to admit, I rejected “coffee shop” as the answer. People who’ve spent any physical time with me might be surprised by that. After all, I adore cafes and I spend a significant amount of time in them, being a writer in L.A. and all.

by d1andonlykar1/flickr

Unfortunately, while all that is true, I am still searching for one that hits all the high notes – great coffee, affordable prices, a food menu with which I don’t get bored, comfortable writing chairs, tables the right height, free wireless, welcoming staff, and friendly (but not too talkative) regulars… so, yeah, a cafe is not the best place I’ve been in 2009.

The other four suggestions Gwen kindly provided to stoke the imagination were nixed about 2 nanoseconds after the first.

I’m not much of a drinker and, while I visited some great pubs in Ireland, the pub scene in L.A. is a wee bit contrived.

Retreat centers have been out of my budget this year except through work and then, well, it was work.

I actually pity the people who reveal that a cubicle was the best place in which they found themselves in 2009, and may want to hear more of their stories so I can feel oh-so-much-better about my own life.

And then, there’s the nook…

Production still from Walt Disney Pictures 2005 film, "The Chronicles of Narnia."

I don’t actually think I’ve been in a nook, certainly not the kind Gwen has been in (which actually sounds utterly delightful and makes me think I, too, would have selected it if I’d ever experienced such a thing) or The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe kind (which is the only kind of nook that sprang to mind) because a) I live in a small apartment without large furniture and b) even if I did have large furniture, I’ve never had any impulse to crawl into that sort of thing.

Farm machinery boxes are an entirely different matter, but I had no access to any of those in 2009.

So I was left pondering all the places I’ve been this year and evaluating each. And after much hair twirling, but not enough to make me shave my head, I decided upon three places – the first is a great distance in miles, the second is only a place through which to pass and the third is the closest and farthest from me at any given time.

A GREAT DISTANCE IN MILES

On the opposite side of this country lives a little girl with bright red hair and a laugh that lights up the world. My niece is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She is only two, but she has power over my universe. Any time I am in her sphere of innocent wonder and ecstatic giggles, I am overwhelmed. Adoration is too slight a word to convey my feelings for this nymph.

Whenever I am with her, even if it’s just through the camera on a laptop, I am in a best place.

by Yiyo

A PLACE THROUGH WHICH TO PASS

A five minute drive takes me to this place. It is marked by a thigh-high cement wall extended further by a chain link fence. It is on the edge of a road. It separates me from what could be a beautiful lake but, in reality, is an artificial reservoir built to quench the thirst of Angelenos. I arrive at this place to begin a walk or a hike or a jog, depending on my ambition on any given day.

It is a beginning and an end, never lingered in too long.

But if I am at this place, I can breathe. Because, if I am here, it means I’ve found time in my day for a moving meditation. I grab the cold metal of the chain link fence and… pull back and… STRETCH. And then I step into a bounty of possibilities – Will I walk or run? Will the deer or coyotes be out? Will I encounter other people? Will I find clarity as my head stops whirring or drift into daydreaming fantasy?

It is quiet. It is ritual. It is necessary. So yes, this, too, is a best place.

THE CLOSEST AND FARTHEST FROM ME

There are moments, fleeting and much too infrequent, when I am completely in love with myself. I cringe as I let those words stay on the page. And yet I will let them remain because, my god, we all really do need to love ourselves. It’s such a challenging prospect for so many of us, however, that we build up defenses against the idea, roll our eyes at the cheesiness of the statement and go on our merry mad way doing everything we can to get others to love us instead. Or at least, that’s what I usually do.

But every once in a while, and rarely as a result of conscious action, I land in a moment, a place, in which I find absolutely nothing wrong with me, in which the overly accomplished critic in my head has nothing to say – about my body, my bank account, my career, my love life, my relationships, my possessions, etc. – and so says nothing.

It is a place in which I simple AM.

That place is utterly amazing.

That place is one in which I wish I had permanent residence.

I’ve been there one or two times this year. And it is, without question, one of the best best places to be.

by LightSpectral/flickr

What best place did you visit this year?

What is the best book of 2009, the book – fiction or nonfiction – that touched you? Where were you when you read it? Have you bought and given away multiple copies?

I must admit, I judge a book by its cover. If the picture isn’t aesthetically pleasing to me, if the typeface isn’t interesting, if the title isn’t compelling, or if the colors are jarring, I am likely to pass over a book. Unless it has been recommended to me with evangelical intensity. Or is a selection for my book club. Then, I’ll tentatively pick it up and read the inner flap or back cover. If the story summary is at all intriguing, I’ll skim the first five pages. If I think the story is crap and the writing is crap, the book is doomed. If I’m undecided, I’ll skim the last five pages.

Yes. I read the ending first.

But only if I’m not already hooked.

I give a book seven (by my count) chances to catch me in its imaginative grasp. Why? Because I love books.

I spent my childhood with my nose in one. The melodrama on the page kept me safely distracted from the real drama of my physical world. When I needed an escape, books never let me down. Hell, they still don’t. As long as I choose the right ones for me.

This year, there have been a lot of sharp edges in my physical world, and I’ve been drawn to stories of whimsy and romance. Imagine my surprise, then, when I began to reflect upon Gwen’s question of the day and quickly realized that the book which touched me most this year had everything going against it.

I hated the cover art.

The title was crude.

The story was ALL sharp edges.

The book? Bastard out of Carolina. By Dorothy Allison

The copy I came across has an utterly drab and desolate Dorothea Lange photo as cover art. Strangely, I actually love Dorothea Lange’s work. Usually. But I detested this picture on sight.

Every visual clue from the book jacket conveys BLEAKNESS. Last I checked, that’s kinda the opposite of whimsy and romance.

Of course, when the story is about a young girl trying to make sense of her world while living in a desperately poor, abusive family structure, bleak is probably the right imagery with which to work.

I wouldn’t have touched this book with a ten foot pole if it hadn’t been my book club’s choice a few months back, and I hadn’t developed a reputation in said book club of not reading the books. I was kinda wanting to shake things up.

So I picked it up.

And I read the first five pages.

And, five hours later, I had a crick in my neck, couldn’t walk straight from sitting for so long, was out of Kleenex, and slid oh-so-slowly back into the physical world. Stirred. Stunned. Stung. And silent.

When that happens, I know I’ve found a great book. It doesn’t happen as often as I would like but when it does… it’s magic. It’s what compels me to keep picking up more books.

Consider this ramble my recommendation to you, my friends, to check out Bastard out of Carolina. I won’t give you a copy, but please don’t think me a Grinch. I don’t own a copy of it myself. I rediscovered the LIBRARY a couple of years ago, you see, and it’s a beautiful thing. They let you read books for FREE!

Available at Target

Whenever I travel by plane, I make sure I don’t have to check any luggage. It’s too much of a hassle. And normally I do a very good job of fitting everything I need for wherever I’m going into my trusty, old, beat-up, green carry-on bag. This time, however, I misjudged the weather. I checked the five-day forecast online and saw that it would be damn cold here in New Jersey – keeping in mind that I’m now a delicate SoCal creature who cranks up the heat when the mercury drops below 75 – so I packed a winter coat and some long-sleeve t-shirts. And guess what happened? A picture-perfect autumn day! So now it’s not cold enough for the winter jacket but too crisp for just the shirt. What is a girl to do? I went shopping. As luck would have it, my business meeting took place directly across from a Target, so I popped inside. Lo and behold, I found this adorable red-check vest and instantly fell in love.

Now, I don’t even normally wear vests – my arms feel so abandoned. And plaid tends to give me flashbacks to the 80s and lumberjacks – neither of which is a good thing in my memory. But this thing is actually flattering on me! (I’d include a photo of me modeling it but I didn’t pack my connector cable for my camera either – it’s been a hectic week, folks!) More importantly, it is warm in all the right places. No embarrassing headlights on this girl – woo hoo!

It comes in a bunch of different colors, though not black and grey which would have been nice.

I never would have considered purchasing a faux-fur trimmed, plaid vest if I hadn’t found myself shivering in the Garden State. Now, I’m going to rock it everywhere. In fact, I’m wearing it right now. And I’m utterly cozy and happy.

So this is my truly unexpected pleasure find of the week.

And I’m starting to like New Jersey.

Price: $29.99. Available at Target and Target.com.

I know I’m beginning to sound like a broken record, but I have no idea where September went. I’m completely freaked out by seeing all the Halloween decorations coming out, not to mention the number of conversations I’m suddenly having about December holiday plans… SLOW DOWN, PEOPLE! Let’s all just take a deep breath and enjoy the moment we are in, shall we? And I’ll try to remember the most pleasurable moments of my past 30 days…

1. Visiting my niece. I adore seeing my brother and sister-in-law as well, but who is kidding who? When there’s an absolutely scrumptious almost 2-year-old running around, everyone else plays second fiddle. It’s just the way of the world. We all accept that resistance is futile. She’s talking up a storm, in a delightful mix of English and Spanish. And she slays me. With a smile, a look, a shy pose. I am a slave for her attention and affection. Thank goodness she doesn’t quite know the extent of her power over me.
   

   Sofia on a September Day

2. Seeing proof of love. Two very dear friends of mine got married this month, in a gorgeous ceremony. She looked stunning. He looked gallant. The setting was glamourous. The flowers were magnificent. The dinner was delicious. What was most remarkable about this very In Style-worthy wedding, however, was the almost tangible aura of love that hovered over the entire evening. Not just between the bride and groom. Every single couple at the event exuded happy romance – and it was mostly couples, which precludes me from having the next memorable moment of the month be of me shagging some hot friend of the family in an inappropriate location while the happy couple cut the cake. Oddly striking. All the love, that is. Not the missed sex. That seems to be par for the course at the moment, thanks for asking. But the love. So many seemingly healthy relationships in one room. Completely disconcerting. And delightful.
   

   Golden Kisses Love Heart by lynda_luv/Flickr

3. Nathan Fillion. The Fall TV Season is upon us, and I will hold off commenting about everything else on the airwaves until a later date, but I must take this opportunity to celebrate the return of Castle and, more importantly, the smokin’, charmin’ and amusin’ package that is Nathan Fillion. I must admit I was skeptical about him when he first entered my (at the time) college dorm lounge during the late lunch hour, however many years ago. But he won me over when he turned all SciFi cowboy for Joss Whedon, and I now have carved out a permanent little place in my cold, cold heart and reserved it for all things NF. After all, there is nothing sexier than a man who makes me laugh, and who can laugh at himself. Who cares if it’s scripted.
   

   Copyright of Unidentified Funding Network/Studio

   Yum, right?

What excitement did September hold for you? I certainly hope it was pleasurable as well. Do tell!

Feeling Prickly

Do you ever just have one of those days when you find yourself feeling prickly for no apparent reason? The symptoms are pretty obvious. The line to get coffee seems intolerably long. The road is full of idiot drivers who wouldn’t know what a gas pedal was if it hit them in the ass. The office internet hook-up has mysteriously reverted to dial-up speed. The cute guy’s choice to wait for another elevator is proof you will be the reason “spinster” never gets removed from Miriam-Webster’s English Dictionary, even if the dictionary itself stops being published as a book. The world is full of sharp edges, and you seem to accidentally ram into one with every step you take. Here’s just a little reminder that the easiest way to smooth things out again, without resorting to addictive substances, is to STOP, breathe, and take a big ole pleasurable whiff of the proverbial roses. Oh, and getting more than two hours of sleep can’t hurt… Here’s to your week having lots of rounded corners and very few prickly moments.