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To date or not to date

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That is the question.

I have an amazing father. Smart, respectful, honest and kind. And though I am eternally grateful for him, he has set the bar very high for any guy I could possibly conceive to be with. One would think these traits aren’t THAT hard to come by, and perhaps it’s because I live in LA, but wow. Yeah. These traits are far and few in between and then add that to meeting someone I’m attracted to and whew! We just deleted close to 100% of the men I meet.

Granted, when I was younger, I set the bar much lower. RIP to my ex-boyfriend who has actually not passed away but in all due respect, has passed away in my mind. Is that morbid? I hope not. It’s illustrative. And then, when I got older and moved back to my lovely town of LA, which I actually adore but is not really set up for dating for those of us who like honest relationships, I partook in some innocent and fun flings. But now that I’m getting to the point where I’d rather not get a drink with you but actually work on my career unless it’s going to be worth my time, I’m trying hard not to become cynical. Or make a romantic comedy about it.

Anyway, I digress. As I was driving home tonight, I had a thought while I was listening to Eminem, who mind you is actually quite intelligent and poetic. Sure, maybe not the best to listen to as one is thinking about dating, late after a night out, but still, he’s honest and raw which is more than I can say for most people. And he made me think, and I like that. Lately, people have been asking me about dating. Am I dating someone? Who? Why not? And not that I feel on the spot, but I realize it’s valid for them to ask considering I’m 33 and have not really made dating a priority in the past several years. And when I do consider it, I seem to like those who are completely wrong for me…

Sometimes I wonder, is dating worth it if it’s not what is one’s top priority? It’s an issue I’ve grappled with for quite a while. As all my friends start to get married, I find myself caring more about my film getting finance than meeting a guy to go out with. Is dating in LA the problem or is it me? Is it because I’m a filmmaker trying to succeed in this crazy business, as are three-quarters of the men I meet, who seem to mostly talk about filmmaking rather than do it so relationships with them are mostly out of the question or do I not care enough about dating? I see my friends who bend over backwards to make the guys or girls in their life happy and I wonder, should it be that hard? Is love something we need to work at or is it something that happens naturally when it’s with the right one? And rather than give a shit about the guy who doesn’t call you or the girl who doesn’t return your text, why not just move on and live your life until the right one comes along? Is it so wrong to just be and if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t? I don’t know… but I seem to be moving farther and farther away from caring about cool guys since there are so few. Not asking for pity but just calling a spade a spade.

Honestly, I just want to make my films. Period. I normally keep my head down, or in a book, but sometimes, one will get me out of my hole and I’ll ponder this all over again…

So ladies and gentlemen, I’ll leave you with this thought – do you want to be with just anyone or is it best to just find the thing that makes you happy and go after that and then, if love happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t…

Am I cynical or the voice of reason? You decide for yourself…

Consider the alternative

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This past weekend, my one-and-a-half year old nephew came down with a cold and with that cold, he had a fever of 103.8. And this worried me, greatly. I’ve learned that high fevers are quite common for young babies but still, that didn’t comfort me when I saw my nephew’s checks glow bright red and his eyes droop before he fell asleep in my arms.

Normally, my nephew has the energy level of a speed freak at Disneyland on Christmas. His energy is intense and rivals that of a football player. And considering I babysit him regularly, I know of what I speak. His energy levels me. By the end of a day with my baby nephew, I need a nap. A long one. And while I absolutely love this little man like no one I have ever loved, when he sleeps, I’m happy.

But then came this weekend, and his mopey-ness really brought me down.

And this made me realize that while we may think some things are hectic and trying at times, we should consider the alternative.

While the fact that he sat with me on the couch as we watched some cooking show was pleasant, I was sad that he wasn’t his crazy self because of his cold. No constant hide-n-seek, no trying to go up and down the stairs every second and no dancing to the music I played. Seeing his glassy eyes and sweaty forehead made me want to cry and I realized, I would take his energetic self any day rather than this sad and sick young baby before me.

On my list

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I was listening to the Ricky Gervais podcast and he, Stephen Merchant and Karl Pilkington were chatting about things, including death and such. And then I thought about how often I say, “I’m putting that on my list” – meaning, I refer to something that I want to explore/do/see/etc…

So, this led me to sit down and do my next blog on making a list of twenty-one things (I like odd numbers) that I absolutely must do before I pass on to the next level, whatever that may be. (And maybe, after reading this, you might want to write your own. You never know, writing it down may crystallize things so that when opportunities arise or become even remotely possible, you jump on them…)

1. drive a Ferrari, on a road I can do at least 100mph

2. spend a month in Italy, speaking the language fluently

3. have at least one feature film distributed in all the major cities (preferably worldwide, but I’d accept this, considering the business I chose…)

4. visit Liverpool

5. visit each continent, at least once

6. meet Jonathan Franzen

7. meet Francis Ford Coppola, not from chance but from purpose

8. work at a vineyard, at least for a day

9. visit the gravesites of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Victor Hugo

10. scuba dive

11. fall in love with someone who makes me laugh and continually surprises me, and I do that for them

12. read the Bible

13. climb a mountain

14. publish something

15. learn something new each and every day I’m conscious

16. ride in a hot air balloon

17. own a dog that looks like Toto, who I name Lenny (after John Lennon, of course)

18. kiss someone who makes me go weak in the knees

19. invent something I can patent

20. meet Kenneth Lonergan and tell him how much his film “you can count on me” changed my life

21. never settle

Beautiful

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When I was sixteen, my high school boyfriend gave me a bottle of perfume. It was “Beautiful” by Estee Lauder. It was Valentine’s Day and he handed it to me while I was in the front seat of his car. (I was a sophomore and he was a senior. He was voted class clown. Funny, yes. Romantic, not exactly.)

But little did he know that I would fall in love with the scent and wear it until I was thirty-two years old.

Now, I am not a creature of habit. I embrace change and seek it out, but with my perfume I was the exact opposite. Wearing the same scent year after year, and LOVING it, I could care less if others didn’t. The smell simply made me happy. But some people called me out on it and I started to think, hm…. maybe I should branch out there, try something new…

So, last year, I decided, okay, I will stop wearing Beautiful, even though I had been doing so for the past SIXTEEN years. I went to Sephora, and God bless them, they offer you the opportunity to spend the money you would on a new bottle of perfume but before committing to one scent, they give you twelve samples of certain popular sprays to try and then once you decide on the one that you want, you just come in and get it. I thought, this is perfect for someone like me. And I tried all twelve scents. Over and over. Not crazy about any of them, thinking they don’t smell nearly as good as “Beautiful”, I forced myself to decide on one. So, I went with “Bright Crystal” by Versace.

And I’ve been wearing that scent and a couple of others I’ve picked up along the way for the past year… but they just don’t do it for me. Not only do I not get the comments from others that I smell great, I don’t think I do either. As crazy as this will sound, “Beautiful” was made to mesh with my body and none of these other perfumes were. That’s the bottom line.

So at the end of 2010, which I like to think of as “experiment with perfume” year,  I decided, enough. I tried to change and it didn’t work. I love and will always love “Beautiful.”

I went onto the esteelauder.com site, bought the perfume I’ve missed and waited for its arrival.

Today, it came.

I sprayed it on quickly. Smelled it immediately and realized, yes. This is the one.

And that’s when it hit me.

This is what I’m waiting for in terms of men. heehee. He needs to be my “Beautiful” perfume in a non-literal way and it needs to feel just like this.

But until he comes along, at least I have my scent back…

Best of 2010

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Some things stand out. And some of those are unfortunately not included here due to a failure in memory.

Best of 2010…according to Christina Parisi (in no order of importance)

1. some amazing films – Blue Valentine, The Fighter, Inception and Babies

2. Apple’s iPhone 4

3. some great new albums – LCD Soundsystem “This is Happening”, Eminem “Recovery”, & The Clientele “Minotaur”

4. some balance in political power

5. the end of “don’t ask don’t tell”

6. Jonathan Franzen’s long-awaited fictional work “Freedom” – a genius observer of humanity

7. LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip concert at The Hollywood Bowl – electric!

8. showing my short film “Rhythm of Causality” on the big screen at the Buffalo Niagara Film Festival. Not only was I born in Buffalo and have a ton of family there, but the screening was in the very theater where my father had once been employed as an usher.

9. meeting a 96-year-old woman at the bank who was sharper than some thirty-year-old’s I know.

10. seeing one of my favorite bands “The Clientele” at Spaceland and being maybe ten feet from them.

Now on to 2011…

Finding your calmness

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What I find to be an interesting story…

The other day, I was walking with a close friend of mine to our cars after a party. She was parked on the street outside the parking lot that I had parked in, but since she didn’t know the area too well, she planned on waiting for me to exit the lot and then follow me to the freeway entrance. So, I walked to my car, got in and proceeded to go down this little hill incline from the lot to an alley that would deposit me right behind her if I turned onto the street she was parked on… except, whoops! What I thought was an incline turned out to be more like a curb and when I causally started to move my car down it, EKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! My car got stuck!

Okay, I think. I’ve definitely been in some interesting car situations before (ask anyone who’s driven with me) so I get out the car to survey the damage. My friend also gets out of her car, seeing what’s just occurred and tells me, “Uh, Christina, your back tires are in the air.” Turns out my car was not going anywhere. The little incline, which was more like a curb, made my car stuck and while the bottom of my car held it in place, the wheels in the back were raised above the ground. As my friend and I tried to lift the back of the car to push it down, we didn’t get anywhere because no one was in the driver’s seat to move it. But then, lo and behold, a very nice guy who just happened to be walking by asked if we needed help. Such a sweetheart! He and my friend, who mind you is a cute little thing that probably weighs little more than a buck five, lifted my car as I accelerated and whoosh…. my car scrapes down the hill. Of course, the bottom scratches like a DJ scratching a record but it gets down and I get out to thank the nice guy, as I notice my dear friend got water sprayed all over here. Oh yeah, forgot to mention it had been raining. Anyway, the guy smiles and takes off as I ask my friend if she thinks my car’s okay. She says probably not and then mentions that she can’t believe how calm I am about the whole thing.

And that’s when it hit me. I was really calm. I figured, hell, shit happens and what I thought was a smooth hill turned out not to be but what? Should I yell and cry about it? What’s that gonna do? Nothing, but make the situation worse. Turns out I was lucky though and I didn’t hit anything under my car that mattered.

But the thing that really stayed with me was this…

I found my calmness. And I’m not letting it go.

Who would have thought?

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The other day, I was babysitting a sixteen-month old baby overnight. He was quite active in the evening with playing, having me read book after book, walking on my legs and running around the couch. But he eventually passed out in my arms after a warm bottle of milk somewhere between ten and ten thirty.

Then, however, around three in the morning, he woke in the playpen/crib that stood right beside my bed. Now, I’m not a parent and have no plans to be, but this young man is very special to me and I find myself doing things for him that I’ve never found myself doing for anyone else. Nor did I think I ever would, for anyone. Things such as changing a poopy diaper or getting up at five thirty in the morning to see him or sharing my food or being content to sit in a room for two hours and not do the work I have piling up but instead play hide-n-seek over and over because it puts a smile on his face that is absolutely priceless. But here it was, three in the morning, with me going on only three maybe four hours of sleep and really wanting more, and this young man deciding it’s time to get up and only sleep in my arms. He would not sleep on a pillow, on a couch, in his crib – no. To be fair, he was willing to sleep side by side me in my bed but his parents want that to stop. So without that as an option, he had to be held, either in my arms or resting on my shoulder. And the second I put him down in his crib, he immediately knew and started to cry. I would tell myself, okay, I’ll hold him until he falls asleep for ten minutes and then set him down. But sure enough, the second I tried, WHAH!!!!!! And back in my arms he would go.

But by four thirty, after an hour and a half of this little game, I decided enough. I put him in the crib and instead of picking him up when he cried, I got inside there with him. He kinda looked at me funny, almost like “what the hell are you doing in here?” and then he patted my face with a big smile, like “oh, you silly silly adult” but he got a kick out of it, curled up next to my contorted body and proceeded to fall asleep. So then, I got out of the crib. And yes, you guessed it. He woke up like clockwork but this time, instead of crying and demanding to be held, he understood that he needed to sleep in his crib. He watched me lay down in my bed and then he proceeded to lay down in the crib. It was almost like he finally got what was going on. It was sleep time. Not in my arms, but in his bed. And within about ten minutes, he was out like a light.

Everyday is a day of thanks…

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As Thanksgiving Day 2010 approaches in a few hours, I’ve started thinking about what it means to be thankful. Truly THANKFUL. And I’ve deduced while it’s very easy to say one is thankful for something or raise their glass in cheers to thanks over a turkey dinner, it’s quite difficult to actually value the things one is thankful for and live accordingly.

Allow me to ask a few questions:
Are you thankful for your parents? And if so, do you let them know and show them your gratitude?
Are you thankful for your children? And if so, are you in their lives as a responsible parent and let them know how thankful you are for them in the way you treat them?
Are you thankful for the freedom you enjoy in America? And if so, are you thankful to the many people who’ve shed their own blood so that you can enjoy it?
Are you thankful for your health? And if so, do you appreciate it by treating your body well?
Are you thankful for the love you receive from others? And if so, do you return it and let them know your appreciation?

I ask these questions as examples of what it truly means to be thankful and how a day out of the year may remind us of what we are thankful for, the thanks do not begin nor stop there.

My parents never celebrate Valentine’s Day because to them, every day is Valentine’s Day. Flowers may be nice to get on one’s birthday but they don’t account for days of mistreatment. While Thanksgiving may provide us Americans a special day in which we all give thanks, should it really be any different than any other day?

Perhaps on Thanksgiving this year, instead of giving thanks on just this small window of time, you use it to remind yourself that everyday is Thanksgiving.

We as Americans are fortunate to live in a society in which we are granted our own “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” While we may disagree on politics, and some have a tougher time than others in their pursuit of happiness, this freedom can not be denied.

For that, I am thankful. Each and every day. Well, for that and… my family, friends and health.

Fun with your name

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C – Christina

H – Hearing

R – Reality

I – Identity

S – Savor

T – Timeless

I – Individual

N – Noticing

A – A Filmmaker

Now, write out the letters of your first name and then fill in words you think represent you!

It’s fun and will make you think of what you stand for, so why not??

You’re how old?

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The other night, I was at a bar where the scene was quiet young. And by young, I mean those who just became legal to drink. My friend and I were chatting with some people and I believe it was I who had mentioned the crowd was rather young at this particular bar and so, our ages came up. When this cute young girl said she thought I was twenty-five, I corrected her by telling her, “Nope, thirty-three.” And it was at this point where her jaw dropped. LITERALLY DROPPED. She couldn’t believe it. To her, thirty-three was old.

A different night, I was talking to a man in his later fifties and asked him the well-known question by Satchel Paige, “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?” He answered that he would be in his early to mid thirties, remarking that it would be old enough to know himself and have certain knowledge of such. To him, that was the age he felt.

As I embark fully into my thirties, having recently turned thirty-three, I find myself thinking about age and whether it really matters or not. I suppose in terms of biology, it does. For example, a woman who wants to carry a baby must biologically be able to do so or the biological fact that we cannot live forever, but otherwise, does it really matter?

Clearly, we must mature into adulthood, but is there a single answer as to what “adulthood” is? I don’t believe so. For some, it’s getting married and having children. For others, it’s being independent and going after a demanding life dream. Or maybe a combination of both. I suppose it’s whatever is important and meaningful to that particular individual. Being one who has opted to go after the difficult livelihood of a filmmaker and not want the traditional adulthood of home, kids, etc… I find that I may perhaps think less about age than others, but regardless, I wonder why age itself would limit or define someone, with exception to reproduction and mortality. I plan on listening to the music I love until I die, I plan on seeing concerts until I’m unable to leave the house, I plan on making movies until I am physically no longer able to and I plan on living like I’m the age I feel, not the age I am, until my clock stops ticking.

Must age dictate what we can or cannot do?

Sure, we age every day, but while we are living, why not live as though we don’t? Yeah, we have to be aware of reality but what is age really, other than a measurement of our time on earth? There is no chart that says one must do X by so and so age. You create your own chart.

I’m thirty-three and have never had a full cup of coffee.

The next time you find yourself saying, “I’m too old for that” – ask yourself  – Why, exactly?

And then ponder this thoughtful question:

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?”
– Satchel Paige