Dont Mince Words

I’m not doing a list or a year-end review. I know better than to speculate what the future holds for me. I did learn one important lesson this year. My vibrator takes rechargable batteries.

Why didn’t I think of this before? Why? I used to proudly walk into Costco to get my 48 double packs. How many batteries could I burn through next month? I was like a frat boy building a beer can pyramid.

The landfills of America can now breathe a sigh of relief. Marna’s got a recharger and the light just turned green. Happy new year.

The end of this week marks my four month anniversary in California. Friends back East continue to ask me about the differences of living out here. I’ve made some casual observances in previous blogs, but here are my overall impressions:

Personal Grooming – I realized a few months ago that the only time I have close-toed shoes on is when I have an interview or when I’m exercising. Other than that, I have to constantly maintain my feet — weekly pedicures to loofah off knarly skin followed by the application of fire engine red toenail polish. In New York, this was a concern maybe three months out of the year. In California, it will be year-round maintenance.

Natural Beauty Part 1 – Someone told me when I got here to wait until the fall. Wow. There seems to be less smog. After the fires, I walked outside, looked east up Venice Boulevard and actually saw the San Gabriel mountains for the first time. On my way to work, I get dual shots of the ocean and the Santa Monica mountains. I really do enjoy being so close to both the beach and mountains. And this is LA!!! Imagine how much better things are once you leave the area. California is a spectacular state.

Natural Beauty Part 2 – There are gorgeous people everywhere. These are not Hollywood types who have to look the part. Normal, everyday people just look good. Perhaps I grew up around too much inbreeding and I thought ugly was the norm. It isn’t in California.

Traffic – Don’t blame it on the urban planners, just stop breeding future drivers. Honestly, the traffic here is no different than DC. I’m enjoying driving and listening to the radio for the first time in years. However, ask me in a year and maybe I’ll be complaining about the traffic. My solution has always been to live near where I work.

Bathrooms – Almost every bathroom I’ve been in has those pop-the-center-hole-out tissue toilet seat covers. This might seem an odd observation, but I realized it was the norm last weekend when I was in my beloved Target. Two women were bitching about how the bathroom had run out of tissue covers. I had to chuckle and then decided to chime in with, “well, where I come from, covers are a luxury. Remember when we used to use strips of TP if we had to sit on the toilet? Why don’t you try that?”

Are you 420-friendly? – There are many different theories as to the origin of 420, but the consensus is that two stoners in a California high school referred to their after school smokes as “420” because that was the time they would meet. So, leave it to Californians to develop and continue to use a veiled Cheech and Chong reference to determine if someone smokes pot. I prefer the New York direct approach: “Do you smoke pot?” I don’t have to go to about.com to figure out the meaning of that question.

99 Cent Only Stores – This is a dollar store like nothing I’ve seen on the east coast. They have food!!! There is schlocky shit there too, but overall it is quite a find, especially if you are getting stuff for an apartment. The other night six ounce cans of tuna were two for 99. I stop in frequently to get seasonal stuff (three foot plastic candy canes, santa hats, stockings…). However, my all time frequent purchase is the eight inch glass Jesus candles. Ninety-nine cents for me to light a match on Sagrado Corazno de Jesus (Hey-Zeus) and recite: “I implore you by the ardent flames of love that burn in your heart that you would hear my prayer.” Of course, my prayer is I get a fulltime permanent job with benefits at a company full of happy people.

That’s my first four months of life in California. I realize I’m in my infancy. The awkward teen years are around the corner.

Stay tuned.

Here’s some math to ponder: in another 10 days I’ll be ovulating. If I were to get knocked up, I’d have a baby summer 2004. Baby Bungie would graduate from high school when I’m 56 years old.

To the best of my knowledge, unless you produce a child star or a prodigy of some sort, kids are not a revenue generating proposition. One of my friends, who shall remain nameless for the sake of the kids, refers to her offspring as “loveable money suckers.” Diapers cost money, lessons cost money, clothes cost money, and don’t forget the medical deductibles. Kids are like that roommate you had in college that always bummed money off you and drank your last beer without asking.

As of today, I have limited savings and no retirement. I don’t get these women who say their biological clock is ticking. Screw the clock. Do the math. Do you really want to be 56 years old wondering how you are going to put a kid through college when, in your heart of hearts, you really want to downsize, retire, and get a home in the mountains? And you know as the spinster daughter, you are going to get stuck taking care of your aged mother.

Bleak financial future aside, let’s say I plan to do the Murphy Brown thing. Who should my unsuspecting sperm donor be? Well, in 18 years, I want Baby Bungie to be able to get full-ride for college. In order to increase the odds, I’ve determined that I’m going to have to have a minority baby. That way, if Baby Bungie is smart, there are scholarships. If he/she isn’t smart, then there’ll be minority grants. So, my sperm donor cannot be Hispanic or Black because in 18 years, those populations will not be in the minority.

So, does anybody know any horny Eskimos or American Indians? I have a dream that my child will be able to confidently check the Other race box on all the applications that I currently check Decline on.

Who am I kidding? That dream is still a nightmare any way you look at it. I’m going to continue to use my disposable income the same way I did 20 years ago: I’m going to buy music, beer, and vacations. Maybe I’ll even save for retirement one day.

Maybe.