Category Archives: South Coasting

Holiday Letters for the Cheerless

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Christmas Memo Sheet by nirots, freedigitalphotos.net

Christmas Memo Sheet by nirots, freedigitalphotos.net

As much as I love getting mail during the holiday season–what’s not to like about the season where chocolate catalogs finally outweigh that depressing stack of bills and you get daily reminders that good old so-and-so you shared a cubicle with in 1991 is still alive and kicking?–I have to admit that sometimes I get a little tired of reading about other people’s perfect kids and their numerous dazzling vacations from their already oh-so glamorous lives.

Obviously not everyone has genius children, ran a marathon, expanded their 4,000 square foot home another 2,000 square feet, or finally finished that screenplay this year. So what if you’re not in the mood to gush with sincere emotions about how much you love your family and how meaningful your work life is this year, let alone use the word “blessings” multiple times in your annual holiday missive?

What kind of letter can you write if your year basically sucked and your main request to Santa is that 2011 will be a little bit better?

Here are a few ideas to get you started. For full versions of the letters send a check or money order for zillions of dollars to me, care of the Santa Barbara Daily Sound. (And yes, I realize that if you had zillions of dollars to pay me to write your holiday letter, you’d probably be having way too much fun to bother. It doesn’t hurt to ask!)

Still Single After All These Years

Dear Loved Ones. The 13 kitties (Tiger, Mr. Tibs, Nibbles, Simba, Cutie-Pie, Whiskers, Sheba, Cleopatra, Fluffy, Scratcher, Precious, Zyrtec and Claratin) and I are just dandy. We’re all very excited that we got brand new carpeting and furniture again this year. Our new couch is a beautiful cabbage rose print. So pretty! The kitties and I are doing our best to learn to use the litter box since couches are pretty doggone expensive. (Insert paw prints here.)

We’re Broke, Please Send Cash

Dear Friends and Family. Yes, I am writing this on the back of an old shopping list/receipt/kids’ report card. I hope you don’t mind the coffee and grease stains. Sometimes I think caffeine, sugar and alcohol are the only things that make life worth living once you’ve been evicted from your apartment and your car has been repossessed. If you can’t send cash, please send wine. Donuts are good too, so are Cheetos, really anything from the sweet and salty snack aisle will do in a pinch. We’ll also take prepaid phone cards and gift cards in any denomination.

Better Than Therapy

Seasons Greetings. 2010 was not the greatest year for our family. I was let go by the bank in March and though the larceny charges were eventually dropped, the legal fees sent us into bankruptcy. During the course of the pre-trial motions my computer was seized and they found a few questionable websites in my browser history. My wife just doesn’t understand me anymore and got so depressed that she took off on a six-month retreat with her yoga instructor so she could “get centered.” I guess her chakras were finally in order because by October she was back in the country and we were back together. In November we sold our house (finally, for about 75% less than we paid for it) and all of our remaining family heirlooms, then purchased a used Winnebago, which we are now driving around the country. We’ll be coming your way soon. Hope the fridge is full, the water is hot and the towels are clean.

Other titles available:

Three Square Meals in 10 Square Feet

My Juvenile Delinquent Can Beat Up Your Honor Student

Days of Our (Extremely Boring) Lives (in the Carpool Lane)

And my personal favorite:

Compared to These People, My Year Was Actually Pretty Good.

Happy Holidays!

Share your favorite holiday letters with email. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.  Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on December 17, 2010.

Tackling the Season Like a Man

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Portrait Of Beautiful Woman Wearing Santa Claus Hat by David Castillo Dominici, freedigitalphotos.net

Portrait Of Beautiful Woman Wearing Santa Claus Hat by David Castillo Dominici, freedigitalphotos.net

One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was from my friend Ramey: “If you don’t want to be the only one doing all the work then you have to let other people do stuff using their own standards–no matter how crappy or inferior they may be.”

She was talking about diaper rash and Desitin, but over time I’ve found that her advice applies almost everywhere from the schoolyard and the soccer field to the domestic front and delegating at work.

You can explain it by whatever nature versus nurture notion noogles your noggin, but the fact is that men are overwhelmingly better than women are at letting go of perfectionism. They don’t really notice–or if they do, they certainly don’t care about–that pile of laundry waiting to be folded on the couch. It’s simply an obstacle to sit upon or pushed aside in their quest to find a place to rest their fatigued fannies after a hard day’s work.

They aren’t the least bit disturbed if the dinner table lacks floral finery, or even utensils, as long as there’s an ice-cold beer at their fingertips. They may be masters of their domains, but most of them have absolutely no interest in anything resembling a throw pillow, quilt or home decor accessory (unless it comes in HD and surround sound).

And as for calendars, schedules and to-do lists? Forget about it. Somehow it’s more manly to store things “in your head,” despite the sometimes sieve-like filter associated with this system.

Let’s face it, there are a lot of things that men simply don’t care about and thus they don’t stress about. As hard as it is for me to admit it, I think they may be on to something, especially when it comes to the holidays.

Have you ever in your life met a man who felt guilty when a caring neighbor brought over a homemade dish of goodies and he didn’t have a lavish platter at the ready to gift them in return?

Have you ever heard of a man stalking the aisles of an all-night drug store after midnight because the five shades of curling ribbon he has at home are just not “quite the right red?”

You don’t see men stressing about losing weight to fit into a cute new outfit for the company’s holiday party or going to 17 different stores to find the perfect Secret Santa Gift for the receptionist in their office who won’t even know it’s from them.

Nope, men don’t take it as their seasonal call of duty to personally manufacture every bit of holiday magic that comes into their household. For the most part, whether the laundry is waiting to be folded or not, they sit on the couch, relax and enjoy the spirit–and spirits–of the season.

Which is why this year I’m going to try to take the holidays like a man by relaxing the perfectionism, kicking back and enjoying them.

I hope you’ll do the same.

When Leslie’s not obsessing about not obsessing about her holiday to-do list, she can reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.  Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on December 10, 2010.

From Yiddish to Yinglish

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YiddishDictionaryOnline.com

YiddishDictionaryOnline.com

When it comes to traditional religion, I’ll readily admit that I’m more Jew-ish than Jewish. You won’t find me in temple unless there’s a Bar mitzvah or a book signing, and I’m certainly not one to pass up an offering of bacon-wrapped shrimp. They’re delish!

But there’s one part of Jewish cultural tradition–besides the latkes–that I have embraced with gusto: the language.

No, I’m not talking Hebrew, which is way too complicated and confusing for the short attention span theater of my brain these days. I get a case of Hanukkah guilt before the gelt every year when need a refresher course on the dreidel symbols.

No, I’m talking Yiddish. And whether you realize it or not, so are you.

You may not be one to just say nu to your kids. (A general word that calls for a reply. It can mean, “So?” “Huh?” “Well?” “What’s up?” or “Hello?” It’s like a verbal grunt, useful in a variety of situations.) And you may not kvetch about your boss. (Which literally means “to press or squeeze,” like a shoe that’s too small, but many people now also use it to mean, “complain, whine or fret.”)

You may not even schmear your bagel. (Which originally referred to a spread of cream cheese on a bagel but has extended to anything that can be spread, and in some cases refers to “an entire set or group of related things”, or the expression “the whole schmear.”) But from schmear to eternity, I’d bet my last bit of gelt (a Yiddish word for money, and for the chocolate coins eaten on Hanukkah by some and year-round by those of us that frequent See’s Candy) that words like glitch?(literally “slip,” “skate,” or “nosedive,” which many people now use to mean “a minor problem or error”) or zaftig (plump, but pleasantly so) have crossed your lips from time to time.

You’re speaking Yiddish and you don’t even know it.

Not to belabor my spiel?  (a long, involved sales pitch), or act like a maven ?(which comes from the Hebrew “mevin,” or “one who understands,” but has evolved to mean a know-it-all, and is often used sarcastically) of Yiddish vocabulary, but I’d bet you also use the words klutz?(which literally means “a block of wood,” but is often used for a dense, clumsy or awkward person) and nebbish (an insignificant, pitiful person; a nonentity) without giving them a second thought.

You’re a Yinglish speaker too.

I really don’t mean to be a noodge (to pester, nag, whine or be a pest or a whiner) about this, but chances are good that even somewhat vulgar Yiddish words like dreck (which means worthless material, especially merchandise) and tush (buttocks, bottom, rear end) have crossed your lips from time to time.

So here’s my Hanukkah gift to you: the next time someone asks you if you speak a second language you can tell them you are fluent in Yinglish and you do know more than bupkis (zero, or nothing) about Yiddish.

Share your Yiddish or Yinglish vocabulary words with Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on December 3, 2010.

Adult BoyCare

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Teenagers Playing Computer Game by Ambro, freedigitalphotos.net

Teenagers Playing Computer Game by Ambro, freedigitalphotos.net

Does the prospect of going to a mall this time of year make the men in your life resemble cranky, whiney, exhausted kindergarteners who are clearly in need of a snack and a nap?

Me too.

I don’t know what it is about the holiday season. The rest of the year my husband hardly puts up a fuss when we need to “go grab a few things at the mall,” but come the end of November he develops a severe case of Shopophobia. He stomps his feet like a wild man and shakes his head like a whirly bird at the mere mention of the words “Nordstrom,” “free gift wrap” or, heaven forbid the dreaded “parking lot.”

To tell you the truth this behavior reminds me a lot of my son-when he was five.

Which is why I was so very amused to read in the Los Angeles Times this week about a shopping center in Germany with a play area for men. BoyCare for men. Brilliant. It’s called “Maennergarten,” as in kindergarten for men. Truly brilliant.

While savvy shopping areas have bars where men get blitzed and women browse boutiques, this program is modeled after kindergarten. According to the travel website www.travel.spotcoolstuff.com, when couples arrive at the mall, the woman drops off her presumably-potty-trained male significant other at the ” Maennergarten.” She pays about $14 to leave him there and goes off to shop till she drops.

And, just like the first day of summer camp, visitors to the “Maennergarten” are given nametags and the women are issued receipts for the men they drop off. “Nurses” serve the men hot meals and cold beers and offer them televised football, power tools and remote control cars to play with.

“Maennergarten” manager Alexander Stein told BBC News “the idea came from a female customer who thought it would be a good way of getting rid of her husband so she could shop in peace. She found it all too stressful and thought this might be the solution. Both were very happy with the way it turned out.”

When I quizzed my husband and some male friends about the idea of a man cave in the mall they were predictably-and scarily stereotypically-enthusiastic.

While several suggested they should have bikini clad dancing girls, some guys had very specific visions for their versions of what would make a “Maennergarten” nirvana.

J thought “topless massages would be a big hit.” K said “it should have a ‘champagne room,” like they have in strip clubs. But the wives pay their husbands’ entry fee.” I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I suspect that laps and dancing are involved.

“Bacon,” said M.

“It should basically be a BEST BUY with wall-to-wall 3-D televisions (one per patron), buttery soft Barcaloungers, video games, every movie ever made on-demand, bikini clad dancers/masseuses/bartenders/therapists serving unlimited all-you-can-eat sushi, tacos, pizza and beer,” said A, who is shockingly still single. “Oh, and it should be sacred ground: No wives, girlfriends or significant others allowed. The only way they can collect their man is to call ahead on their cell phone when they’re done shopping.”

Clearly he’s given this some thought.

But my favorite response of all came from B, who said, “I believe that Habitat for Humanity should set up near every mall, so we could spend several hours helping out our fellow man by building homes for the disadvantaged, while our significant others join in the commercial feeding frenzy: give a little yin to their yang, to insure cosmic balance in the universe, or… bikini clad dancing girls and big screens.”

Mall man cave investors can contact Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on November 26, 2010.

Gratitude Minus Platitudes

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Thank You Computer Key by Stuart Miles, freedigitalimages.net

Thank You Computer Key by Stuart Miles, freedigitalimages.net

“Being grateful may be the spiritual equivalent of Prozac,” according to Dr. Robert Emmons. I couldn’t agree more, which why I’m grateful that it’s almost Thanksgiving time.

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, right up there on the list with National Chocolate Day and the day the clocks “fall back” and we get an extra hour of sleep.

Any day stuffed full of food, family, friends and football is a good day in my book.

But I’ve counted my blessings in this column a few times and realized they don’t really change all that much from year to year, which is a good thing. I am eternally grateful for all of the wonderful people and gifts in my life, but this Thanksgiving I decided to see what some other people are grateful for.

By other people I mean some really famous people–and some not–whose quotes about gratitude might make you smile a little brighter as you toast the turkey this Thanksgiving.

Like Ricky Gervais I am grateful for pajamas, which are certainly handy to squeeze into once you’ve unzipped your pants after a hearty Thanksgiving meal. He says, “I’ve started wearing pajamas out, because they’re more comfortable than trousers. I started out with jeans, then went to sweatpants about ten years ago. Now it’s just pajamas. I’ve gone whole hog. I wore them to the White House.”

“I am grateful that there is life out there for someone who isn’t a scholar,” says Jamie Lee Curtis. “I wear my combined 760 SAT scores like a medal around my neck that ANYONE can make it despite being a round, square, gay, alcoholic, liberal, pampered peg in the proverbial square hole of what is the norm.” Of course having two movie star parents doesn’t hurt, but I get where she’s coming from and am happy to offer a holiday cheer to misfits everywhere.

“Though I am grateful for the blessings of wealth, it hasn’t changed who I am. My feet are still on the ground. I’m just wearing better shoes,” says Oprah Winfrey, who admitted her shoe addiction to a live TV audience but regrettably still hasn’t invited me into her walk-in (and probably bigger than my whole house) closet.

“I figure if I have my health, can pay the rent and I have my friends, I can call it ‘content,'” says one of my favorite actresses, Lauren Bacall, who is still smoldering at 86.

And finally, some wise words from the Buddha: “Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let’s all be thankful.”

Cheers to that and have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

When Leslie’s not counting her blessings, gobble by gobble, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on November 19, 2010.

Sifting Through Silly Bandz and Squishys

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Image http://www.sillybandz.com/photoweek.php

Image http://www.sillybandz.com/photoweek.php

Fart jokes, cooties and “one, two, three Jinx you owe me a Coke” are perennial rites of childhood that never fail to make me smile, but some of these new trends leave me feeling a little old and out of it.

First it was that array of extra-long shoelaces. Sure the colors were fun-who wouldn’t want to add tropical pink soccer balls and neon green tie dye to their wardrobe-but there was also so much more shoelace to figure out how to tie and then trip over. Seems like a lot more danger than they were worth – which is proof positive that I am old and cranky.

Then came the digital pets-Tamagotchi, Furby, Giga. Seriously? There are plenty of real animals waiting to be adopted. Or if you want something low maintenance, get a goldfish.

Then came the key chains. You couldn’t walk down an elementary school hallway without hearing the clang of Sponge Bob SquarePants, Strawberry Shortcake, Hannah Montana and Justin Beiber dangling dangerously from backpacks. Surely these were an accident waiting to happen.

Squishy mania was next on the scene. An infestation of blob-like sea monsters, jungle creatures and zoo animals began to appear in schoolyards, and fast food restaurants and liquor stores equipped with vending machine capsules were suddenly de rigueur. I was with my niece when she spotted a particularly rare glow-in-the-dark octopus Squishy and I thought I was going to have to call the paramedics to extract her hand from the vending machine.

Now silly bandz are the latest, out-of-control kid craze.

To a childless person these colorful bracelets stacked like Slinkys up the arms of kids might look like simple rubber bands. Yes, they are rubber bands, but simple, not so much.

These silly bands (or bandz depending on which brand you buy) are shaped like everything from Bugs to Barbies and musical instruments to Marilyn Monroe. Even skinny Elvis has his own silly band, which momentarily becomes fat Elvis if you put it around a grownup’s wrist.

But the beauty of these silicone-molded bracelets is that they return to their original shapes when you take them off your arm. It’s a magical shape-shifting rubber band.

Kids say half the fun of collecting the bracelets, which typically come in sets of 12 or 24, is trading them with friends. Parents like the price point (usually $3 for a pack of 12; $5 for 32). As one toy retailer said, “If you can do a shut-me-up product for $4.99, you won that day.”

Teachers, at least in some states, are less than thrilled. Complaints have come in that silly bands are distracting in class or even downright dangerous. The ban on bands has stretched from schools in Brazil and England to Boston, Wisconsin and Indiana. Can California be far behind?

Probably not.

Either way, nobody in our household will be too upset; since this is one trend my son has resisted the lure of. When I asked him why, he shrugged and said, “It’s just one more thing to remember in the morning. Besides, if you have rubber bands on your arm you’ll want to play with them and getting snapped by a rubber band hurts.”

That’s my boy.

When Leslie’s not pondering the latest kid crazes (Zhu Zhu hamsters, Lady Gaga, My Pillow Pets) she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on November 12, 2010.

Defending Facebook Friends

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Screen shot 2014-07-11 at 7.17.28 PMWeak Ties Still Equal Strong Links

Marlene Dietrich once said, “It’s the friends you call at 4 a.m. that really matter.” Agreed. But the friends whose walls you post on at 4 a.m. matter too.

“Weak ties are your windows to the world,” wrote Stanford University sociologist Mark Granovetter back in 1973 in “The Strength of Weak Ties,” one of the earliest academic theories about the spread of information in social networks. Of course, he had no way of knowing back then how apropos his words would become in these days of social networking. “When you’re looking for new ideas and new connections, you don’t get them from family or close friends. It’s the weak ties that connect you to different circles and opportunities,” he wrote.

It’s also the weak ties that connect you to community.

Which is why I get so irked at all of the high falutin’ Luddites who diss communication technologies like Facebook on the grounds that they value “quality and not quantity in their friendships.”

Excuse me, but just because I enjoy connecting with people online doesn’t mean I’m holed up alone in some hovel wearing a dirty gray hoodie and mainlining Red Bull all night.

My pajamas are perfectly clean and I much prefer red wine to Red Bull, which you would know if you read my Facebook page.

Besides, people like that completely miss the point of Facebook and other social networking sites. Of course Facebook isn’t a substitute for close friends and I would have serious concerns for the psyche of anyone who chose to use it that way. For me social networking serves an entirely different function-it’s a community.

Much like going to my neighborhood coffee shop or hanging out with other parents as I wait for my son to finish soccer practice, I have a nodding “hey, how’s it going” kind of acquaintanceship with most of my Facebook friends. We share little bits and pieces of our lives-sometimes a bit too much, girl who posts endless cat pictures-but for the most part we save the nitty-gritty details for our real friends, who aren’t necessarily the ones we chat with on Facebook.

Still, I love getting these little glimpses of the day-to-day fabric of people’s lives. I like to know what’s going on in other people’s heads, even the mundane stuff. But these kind of peripheral friendships are very, very different from the deeper friendships I have.

Which isn’t to say that peripheral friendships aren’t important.

According to a 30-year long longitudinal study at Harvard, the state of our entire network (“our community”) impacts our well being. The study, of 12,000 people, found that your odds of being happy increase by 25 percent if a direct connection in your network is happy.

Got that. Happiness is contagious.

The study also found a similar effect for secondhand associations; if your friend’s friend is happy, the odds of your friend being happy increase by 15 percent-and the odds of you being happy increase by 10 percent.

So c’mon, let’s get happy.

That reminds me of a favorite Partridge Family song. I think I’ll look it up on YouTube and post it on my Facebook page.

When Leslie’s not wiling away hours on Facebook she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on November 5, 2010.

My Holiday Calendar

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Image courtesy of [image creator name] / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of  / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

When I was a kid Halloween was by far the wackiest holiday we had. Adults were actually giving us candy for starters, not to mention letting us stay up late, wear makeup and run screaming down the street. How could you not love a holiday like that?

Halloween is still one of my favorites.

It’s unpredictable. How else would you ever know that your staid insurance agent had a slutty nurse fantasy or that your rowdy next door neighbor has secretly always wanted to be a nun?

If you’re lucky you get to do the Monster Mash at a party where dastardly drinks, murderous martinis, and creepy cocktails are served. Plus there’s no cooking involved and plenty of chocolate. What’s not to like?

While Halloween once undoubtedly wore the holiday crown with pride, a bunch of new holidays have since cropped up. Rather than try to keep up with all of them-there are hundreds and it’s so hard to know what Hallmark and the rest of the cool kids will be celebrating by 2020-I’ve decided to do you a favor and provide you with my very own hand-selected list of favorites.

For example, I bet you don’t know that November 1, the day after Halloween, is not just Why They Call That Hangover Cocktail a Bloody Mary Day but also the Third Annual Give Up Your “Shoulds” Day. According to founder Damon L. Jacobs, for this one day we are invited to “give up a certain ‘should’ that leads to stress, guilt, misery, or any sort of sadness.” Last year people gave up “shoulds” like “I should clean the house,” “I should go to the gym,” “I should be making more money” and “I should stop eating all of the leftover Halloween candy.”

I’m not too sure about celebrating “Give Up Your Shoulds” Day, first because I would never give up candy on principle, and second, because if I gave up “shoulds” I fear it “would” leave me with nothing to talk about.

I would, however, definitely like to celebrate Cookie Monster Day on November 2, which I hope is brought to you by the letter “C” for chocolate chips. We’ll be celebrating at our house, in case anyone wants to stop with by with a batch of the white chocolate macadamia nut kind.

Stay Home Because You’re Well Day (November 30) also has potential-not that I would ever do that, boss-as do National Chocolate Covered Anything Day (December 16), No Interruptions Day (December 31) and National Compliment Day (January 24).

Of course I can’t leave out my favorite Seinfeld holiday Festivus, “for the rest of us,” featuring an undecorated aluminum pole in place of a Christmas tree and an “Airing of Grievances,” where everyone gets to air out their grudges and bitterness toward each other. Don’t you just love family traditions?

I’d certainly like to make Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day (January 31) one of our traditions; especially if the bubble wrap is wrapped around that new Mac Laptop I’ve had my eye on.

For February we’ll be celebrating Spunky Old Broads Day (February 1), which kicks off Spunky Old Broads Month. There’s also Laugh and Get Rich Day on February 8th and Read in the Bathtub Day on February 9th, both worthy activities for this spunky old broad.

I’m also looking forward to Barbie Day on March 9th, Potato Chip Day on March 14th and National She’s Funny That Way Day on March 31st.

In April there’s Tangible Karma Day on the 2nd, National Deep Dish Pizza Day on the 5th and Talk Like Shakespeare Day on the 23rd. In May we’ve got National Two Different Colored Shoes Day on the 3rd, Respect for Chickens Day on the 4th, National Day of Reason on the 5th (where I reason I’ll have a couple of margaritas out of respect for Cinco De Mayo), Tuba Day on the 6th and Free Comic Book Day on the 7th. So much to celebrate. Thank goodness I get that week off for the holidays.

Next it’s time to do Do-Dah Day (June 4), Upsy Daisy Day (June 8), Please Take My Children to Work Day (June 27) and National Columnists Day (June 28) one I’m sure you’ll all be celebrating by sending me chocolate samples so I can write about my favorites for National Chocolate Day (July 7). July also brings SCUD (Savor the Comic, Unplug the Drama) Day on the 8th, Embrace Your Geekiness Day on the 13th and National Talk in an Elevator Day on July 29th.

Crackers Over the Keyboard Day is August 28th and the 30th is National Toasted Marshmallow Day. September is my birthday month, so of course we’ll all be celebrating all month long and through the first couple of weeks of October. Then we’ve got National Chocolate Cupcake Day on the 18th, iPod Day on the 23rd, World Psoriasis Day on the 29th and before we know it, Halloween will be here again.

I’d better go get my costume ready.

When Leslie’s not plotting her holiday celebrations, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on October 29, 2010.

The Upside of Arguments

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Photo by David Castillo Dominici, FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Photo by David Castillo Dominici, FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Though it pains me to admit it, I’ve got a mean streak when it comes to arguments. Whether I’m right or wrong, or even arguing about something I don’t really care about—I like to win.

So does my husband.

This can lead to some heated discussions, most of which are amusing and some of which are actually our busy parent version of foreplay.

So you can imagine how hot I got when-in yet another scientific example of something I knew instinctually must be true—I came across a University of Michigan study that found that expressing your complaints and frustrations can actually help you live longer.

Did you hear that, honey? Told you so.

According to the study, married women who squelched their anger when they felt wronged by their husbands died earlier than wives who expressed their anger.

Good thing I pride myself on keeping a squelch-free house. I am going to live forever.

Of course the Michigan researchers and a whole arsenal of psychologists agree that fighting a “good” fight can be healthy, but that fighting dirty might be just as bad as letting your hostility simmer. Was I so dead set on winning my arguments that I was crossing the line between healthy discourse and downright nastiness?

I wasn’t sure, so like any logical yet lazy 21st century lady in search of information, I decided to take a quiz on the Internet at http://discoveryhealth.queendom.com/arguing_style.html.

OK.

“The results of the test you just took indicate that you are not a bad fighter, but you still have a lot to learn when it comes to your fighting style.”

I can live with that.

Then I read on.

“A lack of focus is the cause of many overly long, exhausting fights. Do you carry grudges about old conflicts and bring them up time and time again?” Of course I do! It’s called nostalgia. That’s a big part of how we keep the love alive. Without all of those misty water-colored memories of long lost battles we’d have so much less to argue about.

And yet, the quiz still advised me to, “Do your best not to bring them up all at once! When you’re in the heat of the moment, try not to let your judgment be clouded by old hurts and buried issues it’s certainly not easy when you’re seeing red, but it’s for the best. Keep focused on the issue at hand, and learn to recognize when enough is enough.”

That sounds familiar. In fact that logic is a lot like my husband’s frequent plea, “Can we just fight about one thing at a time?”

Aurgh. There’s even data to back that one up. I hate losing. Now I’ll have to bring up something from 1993 to torment him with.

According to research from the Gottman Institute in Chicago, to argue in a healthy fashion couples should “edit their arguments.” I should be able to handle that, right? I’m a professional editor. But seriously, “refrain from saying out loud every single angry thought during an argument. Sometimes, talking about sensitive topics can turn really ugly if everything is let out. Couples who edit their arguments are consistently much happier than those who don’t.”

You mean I shouldn’t explain every one of my husband’s faults to him in excruciating detail and if he doesn’t agree with me the first time, then I shouldn’t say it over and over again in an ever more shrill tone of voice? You mean I shouldn’t constantly nag him with my well-intentioned and ever-so-helpful suggestions about how to fix his shortcomings?

Nope. The health quiz experts advised me to “avoid irony all together. Ideally use even-handed logic to settle your arguments.”

Excuse me. No irony, no sarcasm, no satire, no mockery, no way! Where will I sharpen my wit if not in the soft underbelly of my beloved hubby? And even more importantly, if I have to use logic to win my arguments, how can I possibly win?

When Leslie’s not strategizing to win her next battle of the blurbs, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.  Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on October 22, 2010.

My Kind of Playground

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Viva ELVIS - Courtesy Julie Aucoin, Aria Resort

Viva ELVIS – Courtesy Julie Aucoin, Aria Resort

Once you have children, those moments when you feel completely relaxed are few and far between. I think I had one once in the early 90s and then another time in 2002 when I was zonked out on cold medicine, but until recently, that’s about it. And it occurs to me that I didn’t even have a kid in the 90s, so that must have just been anticipation. It’s not that being a mom isn’t absolutely wonderful, precious and fulfilling at least 77 percent of the time, but it’s almost never relaxing.

But once in a harvest moon the stars align just right and someone offers you and your husband a free trip to Las Vegas on the exact same weekend that someone else offers to take your son camping and, miracle of miracles, your kid’s soccer team has a bye that weekend.

Talk about timing.

I’ve heard rumors that younger, childless people stay out late and drink cocktails with fancy names on a regular basis, and I have a vague foggy memory of doing something like that myself once upon another lifetime. I’ve also heard alien mumblings about sleeping in, massages, long baths and spa treatments, but again, it had been a long, long while since I had indulged in anything that luscious.

I shooed away any guilty thoughts about lazy Saturdays as I lay soaking in a vanilla-scented spa tub at the ARIA Resort & Casino in Las Vegas, which is surely one of the least Vegas-like hotels on the strip. For some reason everything in this hotel smells like vanilla – although I’m guessing the reason is that they pump in the scent of vanilla. And, dare I say it; the opulent decor is tasteful by Vegas standards. From the curved 250-feet-long by 24-feet-high water wall that greets you along with the valet, to the stunning-but understated-for-Vegas-anyway, Maya Lin silver sculpture of the Colorado River that flows above the registration desk-this is hardly a typical hotel.

The Aria is the largest hotel in the world to earn a Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) Gold Certification from the U.S. Green Building Council, but it also features the most technologically advanced guest rooms in the country, as my husband discovered when he put new grey hairs onto my head by accidentally pushing the “sleep” button, where one click closes the curtains, shuts down all of the electronics and turns off all the lights.

Luckily I was out of the tub at that point.

Even the casino has eco-friendly features like slot machine bases that serve as floor air-conditioning and specialized air curtains that help minimize the impact of tobacco smoke and perhaps pump the vanilla scent in. Of course neither of those things stopped us from losing what could have been a very nice pair of shoes at the Craps tables, but it was fun anyway.

We were wined and dined through a global variety of cuisines at the Town Square Center, with yummy nibbles and cocktails from Cana Latin Kitchen & Bar (South American), Texas de Brazil (Brazilian by way of Texas), Tommy Bahama’s Restaurant & Bar (Island-inspired), BRIO Tuscan Grille (Northern Italian) and Blue Martini (all-American alcohol). Then in a lovely coincidence, we were able to meet up with some of our best friends from Santa Barbara who happened to be spending their anniversary in Vegas.

Meeting for late night drinks (yes, more drinks) at the Aria’s View Bar, where my husband and our male friend were more drawn to the view of our sexy waitress’ accoutrements than the (also excellent) view of the strip, we couldn’t help but giggle at how much fun it was to be out late and not worrying about babysitters’ curfews.

The next morning it was spa time. Spa just happens to be one of my favorite words in the English language. My Vita Boost Facial was wonderfully relaxing and my skin looked great afterward, unlike some of the facials I’ve had where “bringing all of the impurities to the surface” actually makes your skin look worse. Not only that, the lovely Gina gave me paraffin treatments as well, leaving my hands and feet ever so soft and happy.

Then it was on to more gourmet cuisine (don’t miss the stuffed piquillo peppers, pintxo de chorizos and the churros with chili chocolate sauce at Julian Serrano), and my discovery of what a pleasant daytime beverage white sangria can be.

After a tour of Crystals, an impressive 500,000-square-foot retail/dining area at CityCenter featuring gorgeous galleries and stores like Prada, Christian Dior, Bulgari, Carolina Herrera, Hermes, Cartier, and Van Cleef & Arpels, it was time to tour the shopping areas of Town Square Center, where the more along the lines of my budget retailers like Old Navy, Victoria’s Secret, Borders, Lucky Brand Jeans and Bebe reside.

Spa treatments, gourmet food and shopping all in the same day! This is my kind of playtime. But it got even better. After returning to BRIO for yummy crab cakes and Mezza Chicken Limone, they treated us to Cirque Du Soleil’s newest offering, Viva ELVIS, an energetic fusion of dance, acrobatics and live music that had us bopping our heads and singing along with the King. Watching the show was actually one of the few times in this decidedly adult weekend that I wished my son had been with us, as it was definitely an entertaining event that kids of all ages would appreciate.

As for the rest, well, sometimes it’s good to get away from it all and play like a grownup.

When Leslie’s not fantasizing about her return to the Aria spa, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on October 15, 2010.