2nd Annual Inspiring People of 2008

It has been a year of national change. Unity. Dissention. Politics in heavy rotation. Strong opinions at the dinner table. Magic maps. There are many many people in this world who have inspired me but for this year's list, I'm sticking with those people in the neighborhood who made me a little humbler, stronger, prouder, and most importantly, selfless.

I loved reading last year's list and thinking that those people still totally floor me. I'm happy that they too have seen so much change in 2008. As I turned page after page to reveal a new month, a new image and 28-31 days ahead of me, I met, found, reconnected or realized the strength, spirit and hearts of the people who rocked my year. If you don't know them, I am happy to introduce them to you. If you ever meet them, well then you're just plum lucky.

Tracey Rooney - yes, she's my best friend, my childhood friend and still to this day, my neighborhood outdoor play date. This year she became my maid of honor. Some say it is a honor to be asked. I think it's an honor to have that person accept. Tracey is a Libra and the energy she gives off is always balanced. She has serious perspective. She loves other people and does it well because she fearlessly follows what's right for her. To know is hard enough but to execute it? I think most people on my list have the amazing ability to prioritize their time according to what they need to do to be great in the world. It makes what they give back so genuine, thoughtful and yeah, inspiring. We take hikes around our neighborhoods and not only do we hike 4, 6, 8 miles, we sort our stuff out, let it hang in the air, drop off a cliff, cling to a new perspective. She has always been a sister to me and I am so proud and off the wall excited to have her as my maid of honor. It truly is.

Angie Goodfriend - if you've come to a point in your life where you see your parents as both parents and regular folk, then you are in a good place. There have been many external attempts to separate me from my step mother, the person who raised me, my mother. There has been a loss for words, silence, awkwardness, and tiny steps toward each other. My mother never took credit for raising me, but she did. She taught me to be an independent woman, to work hard, to be safe, courageous and live a little. When I got engaged, I wasn't sure how this was going to work out but I wanted my mom to be mom again. And there she was - and is - almost breaking and entering my venue just to have a look at the inside, offering her home to guests, her advice, welcoming David to our family. Being mom. I learned what she'd like to do in the future as I work on listening more than talking. Even though she couldn't physically be at my engagement party, she was all over the party with the photos she sent and the captions she wrote on each and every photo. I always thought I learned my strong work ethic from my father but I think the honest hustle and fair play and management comes from her. My sensitivity. All that - gifts from her.

Kate Hull- Aside from being an incredible asset to RAINN and bringing me back into the family in a very big way, Kate is like a super dose of sunshine on a gray and rainy day. And that was just from talking to her on the phone. We met for the first time this year and it was like meeting an old friend - a super adorable friend that all my single guy friends would be lining up to meet. And then there's the whole dressing like twins that's a little crazy but to me says us serious girls like to have fun and wear cute shoes too. I give to RAINN and they give back to me ten times over. They gave me a good friend to boot. A positive, smart girl's girl who always seems to be smiling. For Christmas, I bought her Clinique.heart. That's what she reminds me of. The heart in all of what we do.

Jodi Alempijevic - a past host who married another host (okay they were already friends), we remained friends as she moved on from matchmaking to making a baby - the cuteness that is Lincoln. Jodi and I have similar histories and ,as Hemingway said, we are "strong at the broken places". Another rock star smartie pants, wife, mom, and fellow creative creature, Jodi is not afraid to try something new. Age is really just a number and Jodi constantly reminds me of that. She also reminds me that for things to be possible, you must try. And as a mom and creating a new family, molding and shaping that environment so the you is not lost. I love that. I could see her rollerblading down a main street in a prom dress eating an ice cream cone. She is the twin sister of fun and I can't wait to see her and Dejan in the new year!

Suzy Morris - talk about a woman who keeps it all together? build a clientele - in a year. Have a great relationship. Have some pretty independent women goals - some that have been met, others that are on the fast track, Suzy is the sparkly confident blonde with the positive attitude and no-nonsense approach to her own business. From her sweet voice, who would ever suspect it? She's gentle, bold and fearless. What a great combination. What a great friend.


Happy New Year's!
xoxo

A moment of sonic bliss for Rubi

Last night I found out that earlier this week one of my high school friends collapsed at a SF park and was fully brain damaged. Her parents took her off life support.

There are no right things to say in moments like these but I've felt guilty for doing and feeling the opposite of what Robyn represented: free, happy, spirited, a lover of life. Aside from work, I've been inert. Not a thread of creativity. Losing a friend can temporarily disconnect that line.
For now I'm remembering Robyn as the unapolegetically outspoken girl and woman that she became. Never one to mince words, or conform to any Fairfield County Stepfordness, Robyn and I had crazy homes and a need to express it. We played field hockey together - she was a little powerhouse. My first concert, the Indigo Girls at The Palace in Portchester, was with Robyn and thus began our lifelong love affair with singer songwriters, lyrics that ache, songs that move the earth beneath you... Robyn was a year younger than me so I went to NYU - the following year she went to Northwestern. I remember calling her on a road trip I took my junior year and we tried, tried to get together but it seemed like she was lost in her world.

Through the years we've kept in touch here - there. I knew what she was up to, and that she was happy, and writing about music, and I'm not sure how far she got, but was writing an autobiography about her crazy 20s. Last week she emailed me to say how sorry she was for not being in touch but that she thinks of me OFTEN and she'll be in LA on the 23rd. I pulled the sheets out to be washed in case she wanted or needed to stay here. And then I found out she was no longer here.
Robyn would want to be remembered for the strong independent fireball that she was. She wouldn't care for my sappy tears so I'm just writing and remembering.

Kiss the sky for me, Rubi. Love you always.

Flickr Fridays: with a wave of a wand

I just made a cup of hot cocoa (it's cold and rainy :-() and thought, perfect timing for Flickr Friday!

Flickr Friday is not just photographs - it's any artistic medium that inspires me.

I stumbled upon this walking up my street to the corner of Scenic and Gower. Random but magical. Of course it's gone now. Maybe it was never there.

moms are so wise!

my stepmom in Egypt

I loved what Liz said in her blog so much I had to create a new post.

"To all the moms, children, those without moms, those who know mom-like figures, those remembering moms who have passed on, those trying to be moms and those who struggle with motherhood, be good to yourself this weekend. We all came from somewhere, right?"

Here's my step-mama. we have a complex relationship (who doesn't?) but I love her just the same. She's the only one who's been mom to me besides my chosen family. She taught me how to be my own person, never to settle for anything or anyone, be cautious and courageous, independent, and unapologetically feminine.

We're big talkers, we love to bake, we are obssessive about buying and wrapping the perfect gifts more than receiving them, we love a good movie, a good book, a good cry. We both also breathe loudly in our sleep. As I told David while talking in my sleep, "It's called breathing. It's healthy". He didn't get it but my mom would.

Revisiting a cocktail napkin

I realized that my last few entries have been a little rough so maybe it was time to have a spa day. The thing is while I'm not feeling like commenting on who's responsible for what (and I never suggested I had all the right answers, it's just my opinion), I'm not feeling like getting my nails done. Maybe it's this rain that's been pouring on my head for over a week now, but I'm still in the darker inkwell.
I re-read a bunch of poems I wrote last year and I thought I'd share this one today. It's for all the women who withstand so much heaviness and still have close to perfect posture. They've endured it all and can still stand up tall in 4 inch heels. They amaze me.

big snowflakes make loud noises

i'm knee deep in indellible ink
my thoughts stain the four cornered sheets
wading and washing my head in uncertainty
it's so permanent
like this I didn't know
this in and out from in between the static and sound
kind of like a wa wa sound that chips your
fingertips when we make some noise
and you say there goes the sad sad girls
that's where those scribble scrabbled minds are
that ink up the pages with your double spaced words

there they go off in their little worlds of big prose
their heads are sleeting
for they own the copyright
to winter's song

and while you borrow us
without begging (the asking would be nice)
know that their skidding
is more like gliding
and that we fall gracefully
and resurface stronger than we were before

like the ground you press your heels and steady yourself on boy
solid as black diamond ice
keep listening and leaning on us
our arms will forever break your fall

Most Inspiring People of 2007: Personal List

You probably don't know mine, but everyone should have a list of people who inspire, surprise, and teach us how to be better people. Sometimes they don't even know it, but you do. As we reflect on the best of's in 2007, I'm giving thanks and blog love to the people who totally rocked mine.

Liz Seccuro: 21 years after she was raped by a stranger at UVA, Liz Seccuro received a letter in the mail from the rapist. Rather than internalize all that resurfaced from the letter, she wrote back, and then she fought back. Unpopular to some, respected and/or misrepresented by the media, she opened the door so wide that our enormous US population of survivors could feel some vindication. An awesome mother to my favorite 5 year old, wife, successful event planner who lives in my hometown, Liz has become one of my dearest friends and keeps me on track with what I am here to do.

Zahik Rizvi: Like many Angelenos, Zahik, a United Airlines pilot and my former neighbor, had dreams of making movies. Movies with big question marks, movies with substance, movies with open endings. Unlike most Angeleno dreamers with big ideas and no product, he bought a camera and learned how to shoot a film while making one. Not only that, it was pretty damn good. We agreed, and so did several film festivals. His budget? $6000 (mostly spent on the camera). He just finished film number two, "The River on Randolph Street" proving it wasn't just beginner's luck (budget: 3K). If I were to make a film about Zahik I would name it "The Education of Zahik Rizvi". He now has two professions that pay him to be grounded and have his head in the clouds at the same time.

Michael Morrison: A talented, southern character who keeps me laughing long after a story is over, Michael is such a positive, warm person in a very acidic industry. Recently, he was hospitalized with 220/180 blood pressure and was retaining over 110 pounds in water weight. So far, he's lost a whopping 71 lbs. I am wishing him good health, great health insurance and his own sitcom in the new year.

Michele Goodfriend: My sister is many things to me: family, friend, believer. She also happens to be someone who was born into the wrong body. No, not like in the "I was supposed to have Heidi Klum's body", but literally, the parts are not quite in sync with her head, heart and soul. An unbelievably talented writer, musician, artist, athlete, let's just say things have been weighing her down. This December, with the help of some kick ass doctors who had to write letters convincing insurance companies that Michele's situation was a medical one (as opposed to??), she got some things off her chest. I'm not trying to be funny; it's just the way my sister would want me to say it. And for that, and all that she's endured, she's on my list.

Mothers that Work-Lauren Moran and Michelle Krausche: Lauren, the glue that holds Mount Sinai's Sexual Assault and Intervention Program together, makes working for a non-profit seem effortless. As the go-to person for a hundred plus on-call ER advocates, the job is not an easy one but whenever I call or write, I feel home in her. She always makes me want to do things for others, and reminds me to do things for myself. That was one of the most simple, yet important lessons I've learned in my adulthood. I thank her for teaching it to me.

My childhood friend Michelle, mother of a two year old bundle of energy, married her high school sweetheart and took on parenting his daughter, age 6, willingly, honestly, and realistically. I am a stepdaughter, and one could only wish that their stepmother was as wise, caring, gorgeous and super smart as Michelle. To top off the year, she's pregnant with twins. Adopted a big lab, too. Oh, and she still finds time to be an amazing friend.

The free spirits-Gillian Glover and Mollie King: They've traveled the world a thousand times over, their clocks are not set to 9-5/10-6 or any type of # of hours per week, and if they have, their world never depended on it. I met Gillian at my first job out of college, pounding our platforms on fry an egg sidewalks persuading retail stores, big (Tower) and small (Bleecker Bob's) to put a CD on their shelves. Also hailing from my hometown, she has a BFA in painting, she sings, she makes gorgeous jewelry and can throw fire. In all of her travels and trips back to London and NY, she is a constant reminder that if you feel like you are tied down, then you need to have the courage to set yourself free.

My last roommate (ever), Mollie's voice (singing, that is) can make me cry in 10 seconds flat. Her voice is loud, mesmerizing and so pure. She seems to be everywhere, and there is no one that even comes close to being someone like her. In the midst of her magical trails, she can cook, clean and make a home like nobody's business. Her home is everywhere. She also taught me that it's okay to end a sentence like this* Even a letter to Ron Delsner*

My Mon-Fri Ray of Sunshine, Summer Saldana: Please do not think for a second I am picking favorites. In my team of hosts I have many many favorite hosts for different reasons. All of them make my day fun and worth every call or word I write. I mean that. I love my hosts. So let me explain: Summer, as a person, is sunshine. I'm sure she gets that all the time. She is one of the most glass half full people I've ever known. She has the cutest family, and seems to look inside herself and up at her man in the sky, to be a better person. I don't know how that's possible but I guess the world is equip for anything.

Who makes it all worth it-David Polcyn: I'll try to be short. I am lucky enough to be inspired by the guy who I share my toothpaste with. For me this means I am loved without judgement, I am supported without question, I am motivated to process and live dreams out loud. For him, 2007 meant writing several scripts, starring in three films (one of which he conceptualized and co-wrote), and is not even aware of just how off the charts smart he really is. He's the kind of friend who cheers for your accomplishments and always helps you up when the world knocks you down. In this town, that's like a diamond falling from the sky.

making it your anniversary

liz has discussed how one deals with/celebrates/dissociates from the anniversary of a sexual assault. On Liz's survivor anniversary, I ate a YumYum doughnut. Some may think that's odd, random, unnecessary or all of the above (and then some). A doughnut has special significance to me from someone I loved and is no longer in my world. I've never eaten a YumYum doughnut (their purple signs are all over LA) but I ate it because I wanted to do something fun, a not-so guilty pleasure, something sweet to recognize the day as not the day it happened, but in celebration of all she has become, not because of it, but simply by being her, by taking a much harder path that paves the way for countless survivors.
Tomorrow is my anniversary. Sometimes I block it out and replace it with November 17th. One day EMDR may tell me why I remember it to be the day before. The first year, I got my first real expensive haircut. Not a $300 trim, but more than I would normally pay. Then I walked around the East Village and with each step, I was making my signature in the pavement. That was my home, I wanted to make it remembered that I was there first. What I did with my day may seem trivial, and many would ask why I would place any significance on it, for if I thought about it less, I could forget about it, yes? Oh, for shame. Memories do not work that way. November 18, 1996 may have a few pieces cut out like a snowflake, but every single one of those missing pieces makes it home in the darker spaces in my head. They visit me all the time. In pieces. I don't to see the entire picture all the time; it's not pretty.
This year I am taking some inspiration from my favorite four year old girl, Ava , who's love of life and infectous joy for all things beautiful truly amazes me (and for that, and a million other reasons she is also all about what is beautiful), and going out to breakfast for some chocolate chip pancakes at Jack and Jill's , taking in a movie at The Grove where the fake snow will be fallin', making my holiday cards, and playing with my art supplies. I used to make these pretty neat photo transfers; I promised myself once I moved I would get back in my art bin. And so I will. Because there's so much I can say, for once, without speaking a word, and there is so much healing in a black paper mate felt tip pen that bleeds green, purple and blue. Like a bruise. A lovely bruise that knows how to heal itself.