And then WWJD had a birthday but I remain un-aged.

 

At one point BFF Jen left her stupid ex and came to visit. He had always admonished her “You can’t carry off a tattoo.” so, obviously, we headed to a tattoo parlor. Jen, Janice, and I had shopped the day away in Los Angeles and had ended up on Venice Beach, after a run in with a young and extremely demanding Lindsay Lohan we quickly decided what we needed were tattoos. The lot of us.

And so it was that one of my favorite pictures of all times was taken. It was as I was getting the requisite tramp stamp of the 90’s that Janice turned to Jen and with the most gleeful expression to counteract my this-kinda-hurts face the moment was captured. It’s perfect in it’s disposable Kodak blurred edges. That picture is packed somewhere in the garage with all the rest of our worldly goods, but it’s burned in my brain. And so I present my second favorite picture:

Janice and I met first in college, we spoke the shared language of dead fathers and depression- which was excellent for art school. She taught me Marlboro Ultra lights and Pepsi. She taught me how to grocery shop. She took me in and when the time was right she kicked me out, so I could grow the hell up and come back an adult. She’s a bad ass.

Once upon a time I split with my ex and stayed with Janice and her then boyfriend, now husband. During this time the ex and I agreed to clean out the four closets in our home that were filled with his clothes and perhaps clear just one for me and my things. Wouldn’t you know it, he insisted I buy the trash bags. I bought kitchen bags. He wanted heavy duty garden bags. You’d have thought I boiled his bunny. I spent hours on the phone begging his forgiveness as Janice’s eyebrows lifted higher and higher with each apology until they lept off her face and shot into orbit. After I hung up the phone she simply looked at her man and said “Yeah.” He responded to me “I would fear for my life if I said those things to Janice.”

For a long time I joked that I needed a bracelet: WWJD. What Would Janice Do. Number one: Janice didn’t and doesn’t take crap from boys (now men).  She taught me how to let the losers go and sometimes let them think it was their idea. Ha! Suckas! She taught me how to have nice things, and keep them nice. She taught me how to stand up for myself…to the extreme and then taught me how to straddle that line nicely.

She taught me it doesn’t matter what they call you, it only matters what you answer too.

I miss her so much…she is in LA and I am here in DC. She once said to me “I just assumed you’d go back to doing commercials and I’d just have Max during the day.” Because she IS that friend. The one who when you throw a party shows up not only with the pasta salad she said she’d bring, but an extra table, some chairs and some flowers. She is the friend who shows up early to help you set up and at the end of the evening as you’re saying goodbye to your guests she’s got the whole place cleaned before you can close the door on the last guest. She’s a machine. She is also the friend who will make you laugh till you snort wine out your nose. Janice can’t tell a story without acting it out, she’s good with a visual.

4 weeks after she met me at 6 am to check in to St. Joseph’s for my c-section surgery to have Max, I met her at 6 am to check into St. Joseph’s for her cancer surgery. She kicked cancer’s ass btw. I am still battling the guilt that we moved away while she was in chemo. Shortly after Huckleberry was born she called me and told me to stop having kids because every time I spit out a boy she gets sick. This time it’s Lupus and RA, but if you think that’s slowing her down you are wrong. I told her I need one more baby, a girl, and that girl will heal her!

Now, I’m not into hero worship…but I’m so damn lucky to have met her and I count that day we sat outside the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf smoking and being thunderstruck at how much we had in common one of the luckiest days of my life. We started out messed up kids and ended up well adjusted (quit laughing), happy adults.

And in between being messed up kids and happy well adjusted adults we were hot…but didn’t know it.

She taught me how to be strong, I like to think I taught her how to forgive… or something. I hope I taught her something.

Happy Birthday Janice!

Do you have a Janice in your life? You should.

 

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Shoppers Anonymous…except you know me.

The time has come for me to admit it. I shop too much. I am huge bargain shopper, but my Target bill (yes, I caved after 1.5 months…I missed you Target! Let’s never fight again.) alone is crazy. No, I didn’t NEED a new little wallet with a cute owl on it, but it was only 9 bucks and it’s soooooo cute! It’s now living in my purse.

My name is Minky and I am a shopaholic.

I’m bored. I miss seeing my friends on the daily. I miss going to auditions. I miss being able to head over to WWJD’s anytime the mood strikes me for a gabfest and TV Snark with wine. I miss working on shows. I miss having my own place to decorate and run. I miss….everything. And I am filling that gap with shopping. I know that we are close to being ready to leave the safety and security of The American Dream and I am antsy. TOTT is crazy supportive of my new craigslist aquisition obsession and projects. I mean the man bought me a paint sprayer for my birthday! {note to self…get over fear of paint sprayer and USE IT! } My IL’s not only allow me to use the backyard and garage as a workstation but they praise my newfound skills and support me as well.

I have so many blessings. The time has come to start focusing on those and not those adorable black boots I want at Target. I spent 100 bones there yesterday on…what, I don’t know. My point is this: I spend too much money on stuff that I don’t need. It makes me feel momentarily happy, who doesn’t love a cute new bag?? I do, that’s why I have 30 of them. Or shoes? Also me. Except…well,  I never go anywhere to show those off. Except Target and Home Depot and my local Thrift.

So here’s the deal…

I do not need a new purse. I do not need new shoes. I do not need any more clothes. I do not need these things just to fill the days and make me momentarily happy.

What I do need: money to fix my car. Make-up, shampoo etc when the stuff I have runs out. To go to the eye doctor for contacts and glasses.To go to the dentist.To finish all my projects. Have another baby.

I’m going to try very hard to stop my extraneous spending so that we can finish up paying off our debt and get settled in a place of our own soon. I am going to try to feed that shopping need with thrift, if I have too.

This will be very hard for me, as I always have a HUGE case of the I Wants, you might have to put up with some virtual I Want shopping on this here blog…but it’s for the greater good.

I’ve got to keep my eye on the prize. Which is a really great pair of boots.

CRAP! No, no boots. Sigh. See? I need your help!

Have you ever given up something to save? Was it hard? What was the hardest thing to give up?

WWJD, its not what Sonny would do!

Godson Ben is Stachetastic.
Zach may be having too much fun with this iPhone app.

Ah. Los Angeles. I woke up this morning looked out the window and saw my palm trees! I am home. I do love D.C. but being here…I just feel at home. I LOVE LA.

WWJD came and picked us up and now we are in the land of Weeds and Big Love. Santa Clarita!
We are settled in at the kitchen table, the baby is napping and we’re catching up and gabbing about General Hospital and tearing Sonny Corinthos a new one. I mean…if we could in real life we got a thing or two to tell him.
Like…uh, saying “I wouldn’t have shot Dante if I’d known he was my son!”
Because shooting an unarmed cop is A-ok as long as they are not your son.
WWJD and I both love GH, in college we had class from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. General Hospital was on at 2. Perfect for grabbing some chow and collapsing on the living room floor with all our friends to watch.
Even to this day I love watching with friends because we all comment, laugh and yell at the screen.

It’s funny because this week we actually ended up having a great chat about how far we would go to protect our kids, since Sonny is,yet again, excercising excellent parental judgement by getting Michael out of the country. Whille I myself may not agree with Sonny’s choices, I would stop at nothing to protect my kid. Especially if like Michael, he was innocent. And believe you me, Max better be innocent. I believe in responsibility for your actions, so I am already working with Max on cause and effect and consquences for his actions.
I mean he’s 19 months so it’s basically ya know, if you throw your food then you’re done eating. We’re not talking grounding him!
But if God forbid Max were in danger…I’d stop at nothing to keep him safe. I worry about bullying. I worry about gangs at school, and I worry about if I would overeact to it. Will I be the mom who marches into the principal’s office at the drop of a hat?
I’d like to think not. I know that one of the hardest parts of parenting is letting your child fight their own battles and teaching them to be strong and true to themselves. For now our battles are small and easily negotiated. Share your toys, no hitting, the easy stuff. But I know that soon enough there will be fighting and wrestling. And then dating, and learning how to treat girls with respect while negotiating the bizarre ego filled world of young adulthood.
So strange how General Hospital caused a whole talk about how far we would go for our kids. It’s pretty damn far. I’m guessing you would go to the end of the earth too.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I hear the little one waking.  I’m going to go and enjoy this gorgeous afternoon and just throroughly enjoy watching my kid play with WWJD’s son.

Again, it’s just as it should be.