Some of My Best Friends

 Some of my best friends are….well, fill in the blank.  Tall, short, white, black, Christian, Jewish, Druid Vegetarian, Atheist, Unitarian, gay, straight, old, young, bleeding heart liberals, staunch conservatives, carnivores, vegetarians, hunters, animal rights activists, urban dwellers, country folk, Deadheads and opera lovers- they’re all in there.  My circle of friends is a wonderful place filled with a wide variety of interesting folks who have just one thing in common – me!

Believe it or not, they all seem to have a perfectly nice time when thrown together at one of our parties.  I think it's the candied bacon.  Everyone loves the candied bacon, even, I suspect, those who abstain due to religious, moral or dietary reasons.

Of course, the family's there, too, but unlike the friends they don't really have that much of a choice.  They're just stuck with me.  But they keep coming back, so I like to think that they are happily resigned to having me as a relative.

Speaking of families, my husband and I come from what are widely considered to be wildly different cultures, but you couldn't tell it from our families, who get along swimmingly.  At our Big Fat Interfaith Wedding, you couldn't really tell the Italians from the Jews.  Well, until it came time to dance the hora, when all the Jewish people rushed to the center of the dance floor to join in.  Meanwhile, the Italians were busy filling their plates at the Cookie Table.  Yes, that's right - the only things separating us were a dance and some desserts.

One thing my diverse colorful group of friends and family do have in common is that they are largely outspoken and forthright in expressing themselves and their opinions.  No one is afraid to say what they think.

Religion is not a very divisive issue at our parties, largely because we're not entirely undiscriminating when it comes to the people we welcome into our lives.  Hypocrites and Machiavellian mean-spirited types can just stay home.

Generally speaking, thoughtful religious people have a moral compass and some appreciation for varying religious and spiritual philosophies.  We had a rabbi and two ministers at our last open house.  The Catholic priest respectfully turned down our invitation because the open house was on a Sunday, and, well, he had to work.

Politics are another thing entirely, and we have seen many a spirited   discussion on everything from local issues (like does it make a bit of sense to replace a perfectly good parking lot holding 250 reasonably-priced parking spots in the heart of Oakland by the libraries with a patch of grass that isn't even big enough to qualify as a Park) to the presidential election. Yes, they come to the party wearing their hearts on their sleeves and their political buttons on their lapels.

But it is really lovely is to see these passionate folks agree to disagree in an environment of respect.  
The one comment I hear most from friends when they are leaving the party is,  "I always have such a good time.  You just have such nice friends." Then they tell me how much they like the candied bacon.

A Trial Separation

It was all going so well.  We'd been so good together for a such a long time and it was a win-win for both of us.

Not that it wasn't hard work, but what worthwhile relationship isn't?  It's about give and take.  We'd even got professional help from two different sources to assure that we remained productive in the relationship.

Suddenly without warning, we were at an impasse.  I tried to keep up my end of the bargain and even went the extra mile, but I couldn't just keep giving and giving without getting something in return.

One day early in December, I had had enough.  I just couldn't keep up the charade any longer.

After 18 months, a 40-pound weight loss, and a four month "plateau" of maintaining my weight even after I joined a gym and added regular cardio workouts to my routine (yes, I literally went the extra mile), I decided that my diet and I had to take a break.  Yes, I was, for the time being, going to stop counting calories.

It was going to be a trial separation.  I knew that it was inevitable that I would cheat on my diet during December, also commonly known in our house as The Month of Holidays.  I didn't want to have to sneak around, having clandestine meetings with the holiday goodies.  It was better this way.

I told myself that I wasn't going to "go crazy."  I swore that I would continue to be mindful of what I ate and to make wise healthy nutritional choices.

And it really did start off well. I had a little sour cream with my latkes during our Hanukkah dinner, along with my husband's to-die-for, very healthy homemade apple sauce.  I bought a little tiny burnt almond birthday cake for my husband from Giant Eagle  so we each had a piece after dinner, with just one extra piece for each of us to enjoy the next day.

Then I slowly began to succumb to the seductive food all around me.  When we went to Casbah for my husband's birthday, I very coincidentally had a very healthy low calorie meal just because I happen to like broiled seafood.  So for dessert I brashly chose perhaps the most decadent dessert on the menu - the triple chocolate cheesecake.  I was sick I was so full after that dinner.

And so it went. The candy my co-workers handed out as Christmas presents.  The lasagne and the "real" cookies and the cupcakes and the candy in the stockings and oh-so-many leftovers to fill my days during my Christmas break. I ate it all.

I learned things about myself during this estrangement. For instance, I realized (and I'm not bragging here) that I can gain weight twice as quickly as I can lose it.

I decided to give my diet another chance on January 3rd.  We fell back into our routine and I feel like we might have a future together after all. The pounds have begun to come back off, but the jury is out until I actually break the barrier and weigh less than I did last September.

I know I've always said that it's not all about the weight, but it is partially about the weight.

All About Cosette

I went to see the much hyped and hotly anticipated movie adaptation of the musical Les Miserables last weekend.

I really didn't know what to expect.  Forget the critics.  My Facebook Friends (many of whom are absolute aficionados of the stage musical)  were wildly divided in their reviews.  It seemed that they either really loved it or really loathed it, and Russell Crowe had more than his fair share of haters, who hated his portrayal and his singing in the role of Javert.

I'm funny when it comes to beloved stage musicals adapted for the big screen.  I think the actors who are cast should be not just be passable singers; they should be exceptional legitimate singers.  I know, I know, I want the moon.  When I heard that the director had made the choice to have the actors sing live during the shoot, I must say I was very, very skeptical.

Well, I loved everything about it and everyone in it, with the sole exception of Sasha Baron Cohen, who played the shady innkeeper Thenardier.  I thought his interpretation of the character was all wrong, and he was not even passable as a singer.  I was actually very impressed with Russell Crowe's singing and I'm pretty picky when it comes to vocalists.

But let's talk about the story for a minute shall we?  If perchance you have never read the book, seen the musical on stage, or caught the movie, what are you waiting for?  Get yourself to the local cineplex right now - the movie really is pretty fabulous.  However, don't read the rest of this blog if you don't want to know the story.

After watching the movie, it suddenly dawned on me that the story is really all about saving and protecting Cosette.

It all starts with her mother Fantine, whose natural maternal instinct compelled her to sacrifice her job, her hair, her teeth, her body and ultimately her life for her daughter.  Fantine won't  die until Jean Valjean (our protagonist) promises her that he will take care of Cosette.

Valjean is a former convict who was imprisoned for 19 years for first stealing a loaf of bread then for trying to escape.  In order to provide for Cosette as he promised he breaks parole and assumes a new identity.  Despite being pursued by Javert, every decision for the rest of his life is informed and directed by what Cosette needs and deserves.

Marius, a young student and soldier, sees Cosette in the garden one day and falls immediately in love with her. Back on the streets, he  enlists the aid of Eponine the girl who is desperately in love with him (which he doesn't seem to notice) to get a message to Cosette.  Eponine then joins him in battle where she is shot and killed.

Valjean now is an old man.  He is able to die and rest in peace when Marius assures him that he will take care of his precious Cosette.

So, you see, Les Mis is really all about Cosette.  The French Revolution is just a side note.  Cosette lives in the lap of luxury with Marius in the castle that might as well be in the cloud she sang about as a neglected little child, singing pretty songs while everyone else is off living and dying for her.

fiftysomething

After a grueling three-day work week, I was happy to get back to my thirtysomething marathon that I started during my Christmas break. 

Happily, I received thirtysomething - the Complete Third Season as a Christmas gift in my family's grab bag, and it has joined the first and second seasons (previous Christmas gifts) in my very small DVD library.

thirtysomething originally hit the airwaves when I was - you guessed it - in my 30's. I loved it.  An intelligent show about people like me, who were all busy trying to figure out their careers and their relationships and raising young children.  The characters were just like real people in my life- I liked some of them and didn't like others.  I cheered them on in their triumphs, and suffered through their disappointments and hard times, laughed with them and cried with them.  It is my favorite television show of all time.

So, now, 20-some years later, it is always nice to visit my old friends, Nancy and Elliott, Michael and Hope, Gary, Melissa, and even that queen of bad choices, Ellen.  I was afraid when I first revisited the old gang that the show would seem dated, but the dialogue and the experiences really still seem pretty true to life - the universal human experience,

Of course, the fashions have changed since the late 80's, and I wondered if our clothes were really that oversized.  I do remember rocking some serious shoulder pads back then.

Other than that, the biggest change is the technology.  Hope gets her first computer in the first season.  Ellen's married boyfriend doesn't make it to dinner because his wife shows up unexpectedly and he can't call (no cell phones or text messages then).  They call each other on dial phones and pay phones, and try out new fangled cordless phones but don't like them.  Nancy researches her ovarian cancer at the library using microfiche.  Oh, I remember microfiche.  What a pain in the ass that was!

As I watch the show from "the future", I still relate to the characters, so much so that my husband, a thirtysomething newcomer, sometimes feels compelled to remind me that they are fictional.  

But they remind me of who I was, not who I am today.  I'm a lot happier and more content than I was in my 30's.  In place of the angst, I just have my aches, and in place of microfiche, I can hold the Internet in the palm of my hand.  While I much prefer reading the newspaper online than actually handling the newspaper, I especially like reading it in PDF format so that it looks exactly like the actual newspaper on my computer.

I guess that's what you might call the best of both worlds.