First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

Are You Looking Forward to a Midnight Kiss?

Me, not so much. But I’m in love with this photograph by Irving Penn for a 1969 lipstick ad.   HAPPY & HEALTHY 2010 everybody, filled with lots of love wherever you can find it!

Don’t Look Back (unless it’s worth it)

By now, I’m bored with the best of the year lists, and ten times more so with the best of the decade. (Do we really need to revisit the Bush years?) What did catch my eye this week were the memorial essays cropping up about the men and women who truly changed the cultural landscape.

Like Merce Cunningham, who lived as fully for 90 years as we could only dream. During my dance phase living in New York and San Francisco, I took daily Cunningham technique classes and even tried my hand at creating a piece using the I Ching, as he famously did. (My results were less than notable.) I was accustomed to thinking of Cunningham as a master teacher and brilliant choreographer, but I didn’t realize until reading his obituaries that he’s considered among critics as one of the greatest dancers of the 20th century.

Merce Cunningham in Antic Meet, 1958. Photo by Richard Rutledge

Getting Out of My Sweats

Earlier in the aughts, as I was about to relocate from San Francisco to L.A. for a job, I wondered if I’d be able to hold onto my core values amid all the glitter. A film colleague, who lived in a sweet cottage near Venice Beach, told me emphatically, “within six months of moving, you’ll be wearing sweats to the movies.” I laughed it off, and assured him that day would NEVER come.

Eight years later, it has been a slippery slope. What started out as a “sweats ONLY in the house and around the block walking the dog” policy, has now expanded to include the grocery store, the gas station, the dry cleaners, the Post Office, the car wash, the bagel place and just last night, picking up some Chinese food to go.

I love this illustration by British artist Olly Moss. The tiny text after the asterisk reads, Only acceptable outdoors if you’re participating in a sporting activity and it’s too cold to wear shorts.

Mid-holiday Limbo

I’m having a rough holiday. During this weird week in between Christmas and New Years, I’m happy for the return of some of my favorite comforts. Two close friends who were out of town visiting family are back in the hood, as is a juicy, new issue of The New Yorker. (I’ll have to wait until January 4 for Jon Stewart.)

Traffic in L.A. remains refreshingly light, except near shopping hubs. On Christmas Day, I appreciated the utter stillness of American commerce coming to a halt (not counting the movie biz which had its greatest weekend ever!) And yet, I’m relieved that Noel, with its endless Carols and pressure to be encased in the perfect family unit, is now a full year away.     Continue reading »

Eat, Drink, Be Merry (or not, if you don’t feel like it)

I’m grateful to all who shared their wisdom for FIRST PERSON SINGULAR’s contest, Surviving the Holidays When You’re Single. Thank you for being a part of my family, and making it feel large and bountiful!

Most of your advice centered on preparing and eating delicious food, enjoying a stiff drink, and taking pleasure in a day where we have the latitude to do what we want, whether it’s being with loved ones, taking in some culture, or delighting in our own company. We have two WINNERS. Both will be receiving a copy of The Pleasures of Cooking for One by Judith Jones

Drumroll, please…. Continue reading »

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? A Vegetarian

My Christmas Eve dinner menu was set until yesterday, when I learned that one of the guests is a vegetarian. Actually, he’s a pescatarian, but that didn’t let me off the hook, since the main course I’d planned was filled with meat. For about a minute, I considered racing off to Santa Monica Seafood, which is hands down, the best place in L.A. to buy fish. But the idea of waiting in a frantic line was more than I could deal with. I quickly flipped through my most reliable cookbooks, and came across a delicious spanakopitas recipe that I’d served the last time vegetarians came for a meal. The Christmas miracle? I had most of the ingredients on hand.     Continue reading »

Slouching Towards Bethlehem

It’s the perfect last minute holiday gift, since everyone needs a copy of Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Joan Didion’s remarkable collection of essays from the 1960’s. Her prose are spare, yet packed with so much intelligence and sly wit that depending on my mood, I am either deeply inspired to write, or think, why bother to mess with perfection. Here’s an excerpt from her piece On Self-Respect (originally written for Vogue) in which she talks about coming to terms with the end of innocence:

I lost the conviction that lights would always turn green for me, the pleasant certainty that those rather passive virtues which had won me approval as a child automatically guaranteed me not only Phi Beta Kappa keys but happiness, honor, and the love of a good man.

(Photo: Joan Didion in Hollywood, 1970, by Julian Wasser for Life Magazine)

Go Hug a Dog

When friends fall madly in love, I invoke my 3-month rule, to make sure I give them adequate space for the “gaga” phase. But after 3 months, if a newly coupled friend doesn’t have quality time for me, I start to get huffy.

One of my closest single buddies is occupied with a promising new romance, and I’m thrilled for him. With the pressure of the holiday season in full swing, I’m also feeling sorry for myself. I checked out a previous post, 7 Ways To Dig Yourself Out of a Bad Mood, and realized I must’ve been in a really good mood when I wrote that, because right now, NONE of those ways are working. I’m going to try hugging my dog.

Thanks to all who entered our first CONTEST, Surviving the Holidays When You’re Single. Winner(s) will be announced on Christmas Eve.

(Image: My beautiful and huggable Rose)

My Idea of a Good Time

The workaday world is grinding to its seasonal halt. You can feel it in the air and see it in the restaurants and streets spilling over with people who refuse to go back to work. Today when I heard the gezillionth Christmas Carol on the radio, I found myself relaxing into it, knowing that soon enough this time of year will be over, and Valentines Day will be staring me in the face.

Despite my plea on the importance of holiday planning, my personal game plan for Christmas Day (and Eve) are still fuzzy. But I’m determined to have fun. Over the weekend, I will carefully read through everyone’s comments from our first annual, Surviving the Holidays Contest (polls close shortly) and settle in to some expert advice.

(Image: Gary Taxali, Fun, 2009)

Whatever Happened to the Briefcase?

I have a gorgeous Il Bisonte briefcase tucked away in the closet, that doesn’t get used anymore. I first spotted the bag in a San Francisco shop window, and lusted after it for a whole year, before plunking down my hard-earned cash and taking it home. I thought of the purchase as “investment” shopping, never imaging it would one day become a relic, replaced by a less expensive, and far less beautiful (though much lighter) tote. Does anyone still carry a briefcase?

This image is an art piece by Michael Johannsson called Pack Daddy’s Suitcases, or in his native Swedish, Packa Pappas Kappsäck. It is 100″ x 120″ x 100″.