My 25 year – Yes, I said it –Bronx Science High School Reunion.

Okay, it’s been 25 years and I admit it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll wear the shoe bag saying so around. Sorry. They seemed nice but when you live in LA it’s death to wear something saying it’s been 25 years since you’ve been at a hirable age.

Lots to say and for the first time in I don’t know when, I went to sleep at about 3am so I’m tired and also seem to have lost my voice yelling over the 80’s songs that were playing all last night. But not to worry, readers. I haven’t lost my “writer’s voice.” But I have to do this quickly as my 81 year-old father has dial up or a computer connected to a styrofoam cup, and I only have 30 minutes of internet in this Starbucks 2 blocks away from him and 5 blocks from the most fabulous candy emporium on the planet.

First, I have to say, thanks to the diligence of our homeland security, I am not allowed to bring perfume from LA to NY, so on my way to the reunion I had to duck into Bloomingdale’s and get a shpritz.

On the 5 trains and 1 cab I had to take to my reunion, I had some thoughts and concerns. Could I lose the 10 lbs I needed to drop between Union Street and Fulton? Answer: No. No trains go to Fulton. I had to take a cab from Chamber Street the second time I went there. I left my father’s house, saying goodbye to him through the styrofoam cup at 4:30 and arrived 1 hour late, at 7pm to my reunion. But, to be honest, I had entered Bronx Science as a new sophomore, so perhaps it was appropriate to miss an hour. But on those trains/cab I wondered who would be there, who I’d hang with, how people would look, how I would look once the 10 lbs was left in the cab…

Buddhist saying: “Half the things you hope for don’t happen, half the things you fear don’t happen, so just let things happen.” I did.

I hoped we’d have name tags with our name and old photos on them and we did. In the beginning, I looked at them to see how people changed and by the end I just went up to people showing them mine and just grabbing theirs to see who they were. It was honest, fun and surreal. People who looked like strangers would grab each other’s badges, smile, look at your face, find the old you in there, and then go, “Of course,” squeal and hug you.

Observations about name badges: Many people looked better than they did in high school, many people looked similar but without an 80’s haircut. I unfortunately still had a 70’s hair cut in the 80’s. (My cousin Rona, when I was 13, taught me how to part my hair in the middle, wing and feather it. Sometime in the ‘90’s she had to do an intervention and tell me it was time to stop.) Some had lost some hair, or gained some belly. Best part: A lot of people didn’t have to look at my badge to recognize me. Many said I still looked the same! Thank god that cab is carrying around my 10 dropped pounds!!!

Wondering if I’d have people to hang out with: Some people grabbed me and told me I was the reason they were there. That blew my mind. Especially as this happened at the entrance, and I hadn’t eaten since my father made chicken soup (that he’d planned the making of for days) at 1pm, there were almost 200 people I sort of knew and a coat check and photo booth. Very overstimulated.

The people: Were wonderful. I left feeling so happy, warm, cocooned, sad that it was over, unfortunately exhausted and didn’t go to the pancake place or some other bar after. Hope a good time was had. By those party animals or mothers who never got out, that did. There might have been one or two people I still felt intimidated by as I had in high school, but whoever made movies about how reunions are so stressful or crushing to the ego, didn’t know our school. Most everyone there revolutionized the computer industry, many were married for 10 -17 years, were so sweet and gracious and really amazing. People told me how funny I was and still am, and how they had always and still believed in me as a writer… There was this warm, beautiful support that I have to hold onto and bring back with me. In some ways we still saw each other as the 17 year-olds we once were, in some ways we got to be that way again. As we looked at each other, we saw the potential that was there then and never left. And that was crazy beautiful.

Craziest stuff – Being told “You still have beautiful eyes” and the odd conversation with someone who I never knew but who always thought I was funny, telling me how she and her husband bonded over their wish to be cryogenically frozen… Also, why did I forget all social norms and when seeing people with no body fat or men with muscles, I had to poke, prod and feel them, forgetting all rules of propriety?… I was given a little flash drive I hope TSA doesn’t arrest me over, but apparently it contains stories written making fun of our awkward physics teacher. Little did we know, he was the president of NAMBLA. (North American Man-Boy Love Association) True story.… A lot of people told me how much they LOVED my facebook posts, and the best was an old friend saying his wife was a fan. So weird/good to have a stranger ask me how my trip to Greece was. She said she really enjoyed my life. I need to a little more, I think.… And finally, knowing you could not lie about your age in this room.

I bought a nice sweatshirt. I lost mine and now that I’m older, I don’t have to worry about getting my ass kicked for riding on a subway through Harlem with a shirt that says “Science” on it.

There was a moment, where someone said, “Damn, I need a Starbucks” and I suddenly said, “We never said that in high school.” And another person said, “Or Google.” And I said, “Or did our homework using the internet.” That I think is when I really felt the bond and kinship to these people. And a little old. That’s what gave me a sadness to leave. That these were the people who understood me, or a piece of me., even if we had different lives and/or never were friends before. All of us, in that one room, were the same age, and though we might live all over the world, for a moment in time, we accessed a moment in time that defined us. And it was a room full of that. In Los Angeles, I can always find older people, or those that grew up loving Leif Garrett or who also had to have the comb in the back of their pocket surgically removed by their cousin along with the feathered hair, but last night it was more than that. Many of them live on the east coast and still have that east coast life (plus Starbucks and Google), but for me, there was a feeling. In this room, we all had that shared experience, that life, that time. Even if these people hung out with those people, and those were the people who wore scarves, and those were the skateboarders… I just mentioned how Danny and his truck never served Starbucks though he did go on our senior trip to the Bahamas, and everyone there got it.

And that - was beautiful.

So to the Bronx Science Class of ’86, I thank you. Those who were there, those who weren’t and especially those who organized it. To that wonderful, incredible community we are, inside, connected by invisible threads- even people I actually met for the first time last night – some who I never knew but told me I had always made them smile – just looking at you, being with you, feeling that something we had and will always have… is worth stating my age on this thing they invented (or one of you invented) called the internet… and will stay in my heart forever.

My Emmy Review Since Ken Levine Didn't Watch it This Year

I look forward to Ken Levine's reviews almost as much as award shows themselves. As this year he didn't watch, here's me taking a stab at it:

Jane Lynch hosting the Emmys: I wasn’t very excited. I loved her in all those fun movies, I love who she is and love seeing her around town and in my post office. I listen to Glee soundtracks but can’t get into the show itself and I tried. She was actually wonderful.

Opening number – really nice. I never saw “Big Bang Theory” before, and got a taste of it in the opening number/sketch. Still not for me. Sorry, I don’t get why Jim Parsons keeps winning. Is it because all the guys on Modern Family are only supporting actors? Couldn’t people give Steve Carrell a goodbye Emmy? Or are they figuring that with his continuing body of work in such Merchant Ivory films as “Crazy, Stupid Love” and “Get Smart,” he’s bound to win an Oscar, and then, like Kate Winslet, recreate a nice Joan Crawford piece and win an Emmy?

Glad they took on all awkward and possibly controversial issues, such as Jane Lynch being gay, old guy/young wife relationships and Charlie Sheen’s existence.

Loved that it’s only four categories and just when you worry that they’re saving the least interesting for last (Movies and Miniseries), they come back to award the best drama and Modern Family.

Things I could have done without: Charlie Sheen, Gwyneth Paltrow “winging it” by saying nothing, wasting Sofia Vergara by just making accent jokes and Michael Bolton as a pirate.

Aren’t there any non competition reality shows?

Juliana Margoles saying she’s the funniest woman on TV was funny. But then her timing was off and there was an awkward moment.

LOVED Jane Lynch visiting Mad Men, telling them what the future holds, hitting on Peggy and killing their souls by telling them no one watches commercials anymore.

LOVED the leading comedy actresses coming up on stage together. Thought it was just going to be Amy Poehler, loved Melissa McCarthy’s joining her, then it was normal until Edie Falco and Laura Linney, two not “wild and crazy actresses” got up there too. Showing that actresses can be funnier and more interesting than actors, yet award shows rarely agree as they always give actresses their awards and THEN… show the men!

A note on Melissa McCarthy: I took a Groundlings class with her when she first moved to LA. She was really funny, sweet, Jenny MCarthy’s cousin, we sat in her apartment and wrote a sketch together. She met her husband, Ben, at the Groundlings (in our class, I believe). In the movie, “Bridesmaids”, he plays her love interest (the marshall) and the creepy sex scene in the closing credits probably happens in their home. ☺

Loved whazzername’s speech from Justified. Loved her on Dexter and on The Riches. She’ll get another job.

Loved the Dunphys (Dunphies? Dunphum?) winning and their speeches were great.

Loved those people singing to the Memorium, although most of the time we were distracted by trying to figure out who they were since the "Emmytones" were all actors as were the people gyrating on William H. Macy.

Funny that William H. Macy was told he was looking good when he still had his haircut as a drunken, neglectful father.

Steven Levitan's wife's reactions to his revealing their sexual interruptus moments were funny but isn't she used to that by now?

Ken has said that he never sees the Movie and Miniseries nominations. I usually don't either, but this time I saw most of the Kennedys and some of Mildred Pierce. Even a die hard, obsessed Kate Winslet fan had trouble getting through the first episode of MIldred Pierce and that's saying something. That fan was happier drooling over her in her dress last night... We watched "Too Big To Fail" the night before and that was lovely. Like operas and the movie "Wall Street" I understood some of it, but got when people are upset and bad things are happening and when they're happy and good things are happening. I want to see all those British things that won, but aren't they both long running shows on PBS since the 1970's? Who has time?

I'm also trying to get into Game Of Thrones. It'll come.

I can't look directly at Maggie Smith's eyes for too long. Even in Harry Potter flicks.

I'm upset that Sons of Anarchy and Breaking Bad weren't nominated for anything, especially Katie Sagall and Brian Cranston (yes, again), or Breaking Bad's writers, or the Breaking Bad itself.

Nice to see that the Borgias were nominated for being a very pretty show.

Where was Seth MacFarlane? Don't he, Steve Levitan and HBO own television?

All in all, an entertaining night, amazingly brought to us in about three hours, since they have a separate event for makeup, hair and best pixel signal.

Ken Levine, in lieu of your review, I hope I did a good job.

Oh Yeah, I Went To Alaska

So my bruthuh keeps asking me to blog. Welcome to the 21st century. Instead of calling to find out how you are, they email you to blog so they can read how you are. Ah, family.

Forgive me, brother, for I have sinned. It’s been a long time since my last bloggession. And my life is completely different. I meant to blog about and after my trip to Alaska, but I let life get in the way and now must try to remember those little nuggets. Now, if you’re like me, you really don’t want to read about someone’s trips the same way, 20 years ago, you didn’t want to look at slide shows, or see photos. Well, some of you did. And you’re better than me. I would often count to 5 for every photo of trees and such in someone’s album, make a positive humming sound and then flip the page. And don’t get me started on the one time my friend did mushrooms and took over 100 photos of a blade of grass. I couldn’t wait to see if she thought it was just as fascinating the next day.

But I digress.

A Cruise to Alaska - the high points. Things you will find interesting, insightful or funny.

I had never been to Alaska before. I had never been to a cruise before. Someone said, “You eat yourself stupid.” So true. Which is probably why I did not blog afterwards. I was trying to rejuvenate my brain cells. Did I mention there was a 24 hour buffet?

Also, I had not eaten chocolate in a year as an experiment.

That went out the door.

Or overboard.

Four words: Midnight Free Chocolate Bar.

Not one bar, but a bar, like a buffet. In the disco (yes, disco) where some strange Asian band sang 1950’s tunes, then stopped, and went to the 60’s, then the 70’s… It was great aging so fast. AGAIN!

John Severson, a man who I told, is all about making people feel like royalty, put the love of my life and I at his table, treated us to a shmancy French dinner, and basically made all our dreams come true. (Well, I’m still waiting on the Disney Fellowship and a pony…)

We kayaked. Yes, me. Then we took a helicopter and walked on a glacier. Someone said you eat yourself stupid… no, no. Someone said it’s like walking on the moon. True. Especially if you can cup your hand and drink moon juice. (That’s Glacier water for my slower readers.)

We dogsledded. ONLY AFTER making sure that no dogs were harmed in the making of our sled ride and we were assured that they liked it. One liked it so much, he wouldn’t stop jumping back and forth over the ropes. We didn't get to travel in snow, but that’s ok. We went to DOG SLED SUMMER CAMP!! Where there were rows of dog homes, like little condos. Very odd. And… we held DOG SLED PUPPIES!!!!

I’ll pause and let you all have a moment with that.

In Canada we had nothing planned then considered a pedicab tour of Victoria. ONLY AFTER making sure that no cyclists were harmed in the making of our pedicab ride and we were assured that they liked it. Our cyclist was Simon. He was young and not Canadian. We loved him. He let us go to a garden and play with peacocks. We in turn watered him and ate his trail mix. No, we couldn’t hold a pedicab cyclist puppy.

Beyond that were sunsets, more food, shows and most importantly a Landmark Education vacation course: Transforming Yesterday’s Strategies II: Long Term Relationships. I met people from all around the world and learned a lot about relationships of all kinds. Best nugget I can give y’all: In relationships, when you fight, you often are wanting them to act, think or do things like you do. And they don’t. And you don’t want to date your clone. So celebrate the difference. Viva.

That’s all you get.

In less than three weeks, the amazing John Severson has arranged for me to assist him in Transforming Yesterday’s Strategies I in Greece. I’m working off my flight and going to hear Europeans talk of how they were raised. I like John’s vacations, as they are more luxurious than I’d ever plan, and the courses are amazing for self-growth. Not to mention the incredible people there.

Hope you got your money’s worth from my little verbal slide show.

Hope my bruthuh’s happy and will now come visit and fix my computer.

My Visit To New Yawk

Warning: This Blog is written while, sick, while sleep deprived and while still in Queens, NY. So will it be pretty? No it will be bitter, phlegmy, cranky and with a thick accent that takes the “R” out of my name, pronouncing it “Bevuhly.”

What have I learned from this time of sickness and trip to NY to visit family?

Oh so much.

1. When sick, be careful to really check your booking on priceline.com for your hotel. Or, at midnight (eastern time) on what you thought to be your last night at your bare essentials-but-better-than-your-mother’s-offer-to-sleep-on-her-recliner-in-the living-room hotel, you may find that you have no room, as the front desk and the people who are in your room will tell you. And housekeeping has your stuff, don’t worry, but you can’t get to it till 8am. Thank god your cousin (second cousin? Cousin once removed) wanted to borrow your laptop on Passover to fantasize about baseball, so you have that. And you brought a lot of laundry to your muthuh’s (yes, my accent came back too) so it was with you as well. Unfortunately you don’t get the final night at priceline’s negotiated price (thanks a lot, William Shatner) and so you’ll pay a lot more for the bare essentials hotel with the free breakfast. Thank god my 81 year-old fathuh is still doing advertising at The Berklee School of Music (but doesn’t want to be on set for commercials as he has a set routine for his elimination rituals each morning) and gave you a few bucks. It went to a good cause. My new room.

2. We have defined what heroes are as anything from conquerors to firefighters to baseball stars that young boys and adult men fantasize and have fantasy teams about, but I discovered a real unsung hero this trip and I don’t even know her name. But at Giorgio’s Hair Salon in Whitestone, Queens is a woman who has gone where others fear to go, taken on a task too difficult, too harsh, too terrifying for most. God bless whazzhername who tweezed my muthuh so she was presentable on Passover. I will not describe the “Before” description or events; suffice it to say, read my facebook posts for the past week on “tweezergate.” Although Vicki gave my muthuh a wash, cut, color and blow (yes, she blew my muthuh) but oh, Whazzhername, children will have a day off from school in honor of your birthday for years to come for what you do. You turned my muthuh from Zack Gariflakis to the Passover Diva she became. We are all so grateful.

3. I have been to two cousins’ homes and seen the difference between the mothers of 2 boys, surrounded by testosterone all the time vs. my oldest bruthuh living with a wife and a girl. Both female cousins did comment on the need for frequent female companionship, one expressed this in a PG-13 way while the other was more R-rated in her description. Yet my bruthuh, in the house o’ females, lived among Asian prints, fashion sketches and lots of conversations about cooking reality shows and the Disney Channel. I love my niece who in 3rd grade is already writing songs. Please look for Coco Neufeld on the top 40 chart, especially her latest song on Competitive Ice Skaters.

4. Small note. For some reason if a woman has a heavy Queens accent I automatically believe she can kick my ass.

5. If you are a health nut or vegetarian, live in LA, not Queens. Where athe Lollipops Diner’s vegetable platter consisted of carrots, corn and broccoli, separated fashionably by toast triangles.

6. I would rather drive a car then watch my second oldest bruthuh, who does not know how to operate a GPS, get lost while my muthuh with no memory (or so we thought) try to help by pointing out all her thoughts and memories about various streets and milk stores. I.E. The Gps says to turn on Oceanside, but my muthuh drowns it out by saying, “Eddie and Barbara used to live on Oceanside!” And my bruthuh, not turning, asks when he was supposed to. I said to pull over and though high on Claritin, Exedrin Migraine and a steep amount of matzoh, took the reins.

7. It seems that 16 year-old boys, 14 year-old boys and 9 year-old girls all hate Justin Beeber. So who is his fan base?

8. Gerbils, my childhood pets, are illegal in only my state of California. On the other hand, Coffee Beans are in California, but not NY. I guess they chose and split it all up. Also, I was surprised that at the JFK li’l airport free breakfast a flight attendant pointed at me and said, “I know you from my Coffee Bean on Sunset!” Oh, I can neeevvveer get away from my fan base. I imagine all the New Yawkers around us didn’t know what he was talking about. As they held their pet gerbils.

Ok, I’m waiting for my bruthuh and the rental car and the GPS (sans my freshly tweezed muthuh) to come get me. I wish we had an earlier flight back home, but of course, we wanted to really soak up as much of New Yawk as possible so I can bring it to you, my fan base, who stalks me at JFK Hotel free breakfasts.

Bye Bye, Big Love

I will miss you.

I hate when shows end. The only good part is that the writers can go crazy and let anything happen. Anything. That was truly the case for Big Love, when last week's episode let loose so much crazy it was unbelievable! I didn't know it was the second to last episode and so it was with bittersweet fascination, I sat down to watch the last episode just now. I will say goodbye without spoiling it for anyone. (I was glad Amanda Sigfried and Aaron Paul stopped by- though I now keep seeing him as a meth addict).

When I think of series' endings, I get sad, as it's saying goodbye to a world you've lived in, or a family you've tucked yourself inside of. Long ago, I saved the "Oz" finale for so long I lost it. To this day I have still never seen it, assuming that I'd have to rewatch the whole series for it to have an impact.

And I will.

Over the years I've said goodbye to Cosbys, to Friends, to the amazing men and women at the 4077th. To the guys at the bar, to an island I still don't understand. To a White House I long to see come to pass. The Sopranos just sort of left me, and Six Feet Under- to this day, one of the most genius, out of the box finale moments ever.

They say everything/one comes into your life for a reason. When you need a teacher, it appears. "Eight Is Enough" gave me the pseudo family I needed growing up, 90210 gave me mindless entertainment in reruns when I came home from a hard day's teaching, Brothers & Sisters (still on!) made me lose myself in a loving family during one of the darkest times in my life... And I watched various series to help me pen pilots.

Oh I thank you all for the joy, inspiration, catharsis, thought-provoking issues, laughter and love you have given me over the years. I am enjoying my new families, teachers and buddies, and have faith there will be many more- for each phase of my life.

And I vow to help create and give back to others, what has been so richly given to me.

Bye, bye Big Love.

The End Of An Era

This week I went to the Blockbuster I’ve gone to for around 14 or so years, to see the shelves emptying, many items tagged and basically- the store shutting down. I’d heard this was happening in some places, but dared not believe it would happen to “My Blockbuster.” Not just because of my enormous ego+ naïveté, but because it has an incredible location. Right by Sunset and Fairfax. This is a big intersection. I have seen celebrities in my Blockbuster. Ian Ziering and some hot blonde woman. The time Christina Ricci came in, I had a coupon, walked up to her, said, “You’ve given me so many hours of entertainment, allow me to return the favor” and handed it to her. She kept it.

I understand my sad expression is nothing compared to the now out of work clerks at the store. The ones trained to say, “Hello,” every time someone walks through the door. I think they were the first. Some film buddies and friends had amazing starter jobs there, or at times, long term ones. Many of us wondered- “What if we could watch movies all day as a job?” But it’s so much more than that.

My video renting escapades began in Whitestone Queens, NY, in the early ‘80’s. (I can’t believe a “back in my day” story takes place in the ‘80’s – ugh.) A lot of technological changes were afoot: I bought my first walkman for $120 (it was just a tape player) to help with my paper route. I loved my Atari, (which my generous brother handed over to me, not telling me our father had gotten him a spiffy new Apple computer!) Answering machines came along and I got this thing where Rich Little and some woman left celebrity impression messages. We got something called WHT (precursor to HBO that many people never heard of) which allowed me to watch “The Muppet Movie” and “Superman” 17+ times each.

And the video store opened.

Now my father had some Betamax thing (I think he stole it or the tapes from work) and I grew up on his “guy” movies of the 70’s like “Bonny & Clyde”, “Shane”, etc… But now, little Beverly Neufeld from Whitestone, Queens could walk up to the video store and pick out her very own movie! (I think my mother still hasn’t thrown out our first VHS player). Oh what joy! Summers spent going to the beach (which was very far away and you felt filthy upon returning) vowing to stay sandy, unshowered and together, order a pizza and rent a movie. Or the time I was so excited to rent some sexy movie with the name “Angel” in it, my friend and I praying my mother wouldn’t walk in, (the TV was in her room after all), thinking we’d just pulled off the “Crime Of The Century” and then looking in horror as some little cartoon girl started skipping across the screen with a cartoon doggie. We’d gotten the wrong movie. (That must be how our customers felt years later in college when I worked for the Student Film Association and we accidentally switched the rooms that 9½ Weeks” and “Charlie And The Chocolate Factory” played in. Very different experiences.)

But I digress.

Years of renting, walking in and seeing what’s new… Thinking it was pretentious that people were on their cell phones when browsing, and then realizing how helpful that was when your date was home. You walked in and picked out something based on what you were in the mood for at that moment. Not what you’d order in the mail.

And I like Netflix as much as the next person, and the instant gratification of beaming the movie to your home instantaneously is great and brings us closer to never having to leave the house for anything – ever… But I hate that one thing must die as the new thing emerges.

Except for having to pay $120 for a tape player with large headphones.

But I’ll embrace it as I did the Apple computer and its fancy screen that had no graphics but told you what was going on and you could type “Pick up dagger,” and WHT didn’t have “Big Love” or upcoming shows about the Borgia’s. I still miss Rich Little leaving messages for me as Humphrey Bogart, but I’m a survivor.

It’s time I moved on and finally joined the 1990’s.

Valentine's Day - by Design

I’ve already written about the time I designed my own Valentine’s Day back when I was single, and my friend and I exchanged cards, acknowledged each other, had dinner and made it our own. And another time, I went with my friend, Jason, and we saw Aretha Franklin in concert. I requested that we also exchange cards (Jason and I, not Aretha) and to my surprise, he also brought one of those Rite Aid heart-shaped boxes of chocolates that we shared. I was single, but like the other time with my friend, I got a night out, a card, chocolates and felt acknowledged and loved. This confirms once again my quest to design my life, including my holidays.

Many of us love the holidays. But then one creeps around like Christmas after a breakup, New Year’s when you have no plans, Halloween when you’ve eaten all the candy yourself, Arbor Day when you live in the city, or Valentine’s Day when single. Now sometimes, you say, “I don’t care” and rent a movie, but are afraid that people will ask, “What didja do on X Day?” And you have to make it sound good. But what if you closed your eyes, took a breath and thought: “How do I want to spend this day?” “What would I create?” “What would make it perfect?” Whether you wanted to do something big or not.

This Valentine’s Day weekend I am taking my happy self to my friend’s “Flirt For a Cause” event, where she is mixing single people up for charity. I will be a rented “wing man” or “wing woman.” People who like someone will rent me and send me over where I will talk them up and try to connect them. There is a fear in me that I will have to wear wings or Depends or something, but I’d do anything for charity- or a good Facebook post.

The point is, I will have a blast, it has to do with love and romance, and I will be doing what I love the most- making people happy. That’s the Valentine’s Day I’m designing for myself. And my question for you is- whether your single or not, because you may also put a lot of pressure on yourself to “get it right and make your partner happy” – what would you like to do? Instead of celebrating holidays, celebrate yourself – on the holidays.

Gotta go get into my diaper….

2011: A Life Odyssey.

The thing about holidays is that there is some pressure on to do something spectacular, because invariably, people ask you, “How did you spend X Day?” Which is hard if you’re single on Valentine’s Day, sick on New Year’s, or Jewish on Christmas.

Now this is not a rant, or a complaint, but true to form, if I’m going to publish something, why not make people laugh or feel inspired?

Last night, New Year’s Eve, I designed the perfect evening. Perfect for me. Which might not have been perfect for many others. Just like the perfect person for me has to like muppets. Viva La Difference! So if someone asks, they may not think it much, but I really did design the perfect way to ring in the New Year - by my standards. Of course I had a very exciting Dec 29th, but no one really thinks to ask about that day. And my January 2 is going to really rock, because I’m seeing muppet improv! MUPPET IMPROV!!!

One of the best Valentine’s Days I ever had, I was single and my friend and I went to dinner and a movie and then exchanged cards telling each other why we were grateful that the other was in our life. It was fulfilling, moving, and a holiday of my own design.

But I digress.

So with 2010 coming to and end an 2011 being a chance to declare and reboot, it’s the year I design my life, not live at the effect of it. What do I want, rather than what does it seem I can have? How do I want to live, verses what will I settle for? I have an amazing role model/friend who lives like this and he is a breath of fresh air to be around. In a Matrix type way, my brain twists to see, as Landmark Education has often said, “You can live a words to world way, or one of a world to words.” Meaning instead of living and reacting to the way you think the world is, declare what it is and let it shape to your model. This takes faith and courage and standing in the unknown. But the unknown is really where I want to go. I know my known. It’s fun but hasn’t always gotten me places.

So what is this world, life and 2011 of my design? Oh, I could tell you resolutions and how I want this or that - I’m writing for “Brothers And Sisters,” in love, owning a home, more connected to myself, my power and others’ hearts… And this is all true. But besides declarations, there is a new way of thinking and speaking, surrounding myself with like-minded people, sharing what I’m up to, living in possibility vs. scarcity and fear, creating structures so I don’t weasel out, and then having it all be a wonderful game.

So rather than declare, I ask all of you, beloved friends and family, to join me in the game, love me through the challenges, remind me of who I truly am and hold me to account to be a designer, on the court of life rather than in the stands, contributing to the planet and to myself, and in return – my big, magical, wonderful people –

I pledge the same to you.

Happy 2011, a year to design, play and own our power.