All I want for Christmas

"All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth."

I remember singing that as a gap-toothed kid with my father at Chanukah time. Only this Holiday season, it feels like someone kicked me in the mouth. I need those teeth back, so I can properly enunciate the words "I am not a second class citizen!"

I am blessed with love and abundance in my life. I've gotten everything I want this year. Except my civil rights restored in the state California. And the repeal of DOMA, an end to "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," the passage of a trans-inclusive ENDA and comprehensive hate crimes legislation. Mr. President-Santa-Clause-elect: Please bring me my civil rights. Think of it as getting yourself off the naughty list with that whole Rick Warren fiasco. And I'm sending the dentist's bill to the White House.

Happy Holidays from Hollywood!

"Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"



Any minute now...

photo by Rosie Sennett

Festivus quoted

Coincidentally, while back in NYC last week, a friend working for Time Out New York asked what disappointed me most about the Big Apple this Holiday season. My answer made it into print here. (scroll down past Charles Busch and Seth Rudetsky...)

Flush with warm-fuzzies upon my East Coast return, I blurted out “Nothing much disappoints me about New York City. It’s still sooo much better than L.A.” I have to admit, I felt bad dissing LA for the first time since moving here (I'm back on the West Coast, now). Truth is, now that the subletters are moving into the NYC pad, Los Angeles is home for the next while, and my search to find something new each week to love about the City of Angles is on again.

Right now? Love my car. ;-)

Annual Mileage

I spent the holiest day of the year contemplating my life while driving to the dealership to get my 5,000 mile tune-up. It had been 316 days since I "moved" to L.A. In quotes because I've been in the Jet Blue NeverNeverLand of bicoastal limbo for most of those moons.

All the milestones of Los Angeles - getting a car, an apartment, a writing gig - didn't wed me to this place like I thought they would. Then I thought "Once my girlfriend and cat join me out West, THEN I'll really be here." But packing up my NYC apartment to sublet two weeks ago was a terribly final act. Now each trip East will be a visit, not to "Home." The day we left with packed bags felt like the true Yom Kippur. I surveyed the eerily empty space and thought of the loved ones lost, the loved ones ill, the loved ones far away and the amends I need to make. During the High Holy Days I write up a list, New Year's resolutions of sorts. This year I scribbled mine, behind schedule, while sitting in Toyota of Orange's service waiting room.

I began 5768 with family and the big move, only to fall down en route to an important meeting and be whisked away in an ambulance. I'm not a fan of hospitals, but at least nothing was broken and I got a nifty pair of crutches that my sweetie insisted I actually use.

Immobile on the couch, I got a chance to catch up on Tivo and contemplate being inscribed in the Book of Life for the coming year. Mostly, I just prayed that my ailing friends and family recover and return to life in all senses. And that no more of my beloved pets would perish in the near future. It's been a bumpy 5,000+ miles.

You know what was at the end of this stormy Yom Kippur? A freakin' rainbow over the 101. Now THAT'S the way to start off the year right.

Plated

Just as my odometer turns over it's first 1,000 miles, on the last day of mail delivery in 2006 (until Weds, actually - R.I.P. Gerald R. Ford), 51 days since the big move, the California DMV bestows upon me the official gift of the road: 2 license plates and registration stickers for my dusty little car (Note to self: check out the $2 car wash place on Santa Monica Blvd...). Now, I may be over my ideal weight, but I've never worn a 5XL; until now, that is. Just looking at that picture takes me back to the late nights of homework ignored to watch "L.A. Law" (not _just_ because it featured the first prime-time lesbian kiss - it was a well-written show before Rosalyn fell down the elevator shaft). You know that iconic opening title sequence kicked-off by the trunk closing shot of a California license plate?

According to IMDB's trivia page, "the license plate in the beginning of the opening credits was during
the first seven seasons mounted on the rear of a Jaguar, but for the
eight and finale season it changed to being mounted on a Bentley
Continental R. The Bentley Continental R was mentioned for several of
the first episodes of the season when Arnie Becker was thinking of
buying one, and finally received one as a gift in episode 3 of the
eighth season." Mine's mounted on a Toyota Yaris Liftback. Can't wait for the opening credits of my first TV show...

Xmas in Hollywood

That's my neighbor's contribution to the holiday spirit of the courtyard.

I tried wishing my sweetie "Merry Christmas" on it's Eve, and she got all fussy with me, as if it was bad luck to bestow the sentiment too early. All my neighbors have been wishing it to me today. I must admit that a 75 degree Xmas feels very odd...

With no one to share this holiday here in Hollywood, I'll do my usual celebration solo this year: First run film in a theater (always something BIG), followed by Chinese food; A very Jewish Christmas. So, it's Dreamgirls @ the Arclight, then yumminess @ a restaurant yet to be determined. It's not as lonely as it sounds. I've been busy feathering my L.A. nest, and this'll be a welcome treat, getting me out of the apartment (everybody calls it a bungalow!), and into the world at large.

It's after midnight on this Coast, now, so MERRY XMAS EVERYONE!