you know...I really embrace the gross and unusual. I do. the grosser the story the better. tell me a bathroom joke or better yet, a personal tale of your bathroom experience, and I am rolling on the floor, crying my ass off. I am SO immature. proudly I can say my daughters have followed suit. one of my saddest days as a mother was when I had to tell them that farting and burping in public was just not acceptable. doesn't everyone do it, they asked?

many of you know about my christmas tree incident. every year, usually toward the END of january , when the tree is nice and dry, I throw it out my courtyard window. I climb out onto my fire escape as my two daughters push and pull the tree toward me in their work gloves. I suspend myself on my fire escape just so, so I don't find myself tumbling down with the tree. I give it a big heave-ho and over it goes. The girls and I have found it a cleansing ritual, our ringing in of the new year. getting rid of the old and welcoming in the new...we laugh so hard every year as they complain how crazy their mom is. they LOVE it!!!! this year I was busted by my downstairs neighbor whose garden was littered with those bastard needles that threaded the berber of my carpet, and her ivy! she left a nasty note over the mailbox saying "dear neighbor". the rest of the note was as about as nasty as it could get, given she is a God-fearing Christian. long story short, that weekend I brought her flowers and swept up the mess. damn, that was EXACTLY what I avoiding doing in the first place in my apartment.

yesterday, Princess emailed me saying she found a split end in her hair that "belonged in the Guinness Book of World Records". She actually stored it in an envelope and brought it home to show me like a 5-year-old doing show 'n tell. BTW, she is 19. she was so proud. i told her i'd seen better...

her sister, Queenie, has taken a liking to the of prying open of my eyes with her fingers in the morning when they are glued shut with sleep crust. she makes a sound with her mouth like a creaking door as she does it. how genius is that??!!

motherhood, WHAT a joy!!!

I am finding it amazing that people actually miss me when I don't write enough...people are actually interested in This Is Your Life, Mona Changstein.

after nearly a staged intervention (seriously) in my domicile, I mean office, I decided to give a short wig a shot instead. (hey, I can embrace my inner black woman fantasy.( Didn't all Asian and white women fantasize about being a black Afro-haired woman when they were kids?) hey, if they can make it a daily occurrence, I can too. funny how people are so passionate about other people's hair, I had no idea. Chris Rock knew.

I dress very, how shall I say, dyke-y. sneakers and turtleneck sweaters are my season-less wardrobe of choice. I had the Ellen DeGeneres style before ELLEN had it. though some would love to see me "go downtown"at this stage in my life, it is simple not in the cards for me. it would take a lot more effort on my part to girl-up. applying red lipstick at every dry-lipped, coffee cup-stained opportunity and wearing heels with ever-growing old lady bunions (now THAT'S sexy!). it is not my idea of ease, comfort and carefree living. funny how people are so concerned that I wouldn't get a man with short hair. that is probably the most irritating part. who the FUCK cares about what men think?? my intention was not to have a short pixie do to attract men! it was for myself, my reality, not a man's for godsake. sad how people findthat hard to believe.

I really am happy and truly free these days. my life is on the upswing, I can feel it. free of the emotional shit that a relationship undoubtedly brings, free of the compromises one inevitably has to make when there are two, free of the sadness and insecurity of when it's all over. the George Clooney character in Up In The Air had it right all along. We ALL die alone. really not as creepy as it sounds, it's real.