Happiness Makes a Dull Blog


Beatles fans, feel free to sing the title of this blog post to the melody of “Happiness is a Warm Gun”. You’re welcome.

As you can tell from the date of my last post, it’s been awhile since I mused about anything. I’ve realized something about myself during this time. It’s difficult for me to blog if I’m not either amused or annoyed at something. Sure, there are exceptions, like the death of my cat, Dini. That was neither amusing nor annoying. It was just plain sad and awful.

On the whole, my blog posts focus on things that make me laugh or make me livid. Pick a post, any post and see for yourself. This is not to say that I’ve been in some Zen-like “Om-y” blissful state. It’s just that in the face of bombings, political shenanigans or natural disasters, it’s hard to justify a tirade about yet another annoying television commercial or the actions of some attention-whoring celebrity.

The most shocking development of all is that I’ve been, well, happy. As I write that, I want to lower my voice and glance furtively over my shoulder. Any of my friends who read this blog could tell the rest of you that happiness is not a natural place for me to visit… kind of like Las Vegas or anywhere tropical.

I won’t go into the specifics of why I’m happier than usual. A girl has to maintain some mystery, after all. Sure, I constantly worry about money and needing more work, but overall, I wake up looking forward to each day instead of moaning like Glum in the Gulliver’s Travels cartoons from the late 1960s:

This is a new feeling for me and it’s throwing me off my game. I’ve often thought that being happy would pose a dilemma for me in terms of my writing and now it’s not just existential, coffee table conversation. It’s really happening! So, since I don’t want to stop being happy, I have to figure out how to conjure up some of my usual angst, woe or cynical snarkiness without turning into some unfortunate lovechild of Sylvia Plath and Bill Maher. Holy Love Connection from Hell, Batman! I think the eHarmony dude’s head just exploded.

Sex After Kids

Is there sex after kids? I’m not the most qualified person to answer that question because (a) I don’t have kids, and (b) Sex? I vaguely remember what that is. Luckily for you, you don’t have to rely on your humble blogger for all of your post-baby sex information. I could pretend to be hip and say, “There’s an app for that” but who am I kidding? I’m terminally un-hip. I’ll just tell you that there’s a movie for that.

The movie is called, aptly enough, Sex After Kids, and it springs from the mind of Canadian writer/director, Jeremy LaLonde. Jeremy has assembled a cast that will be well-known to Canadian viewers. Included among the cast are three actors, Zoie Palmer, Kris Holden-Ried and Paul Amos, who appear in the hit Canadian television series, Lost Girl, which is also airing in the United States on Syfy and around the world.

A fund raising campaign is underway via Indiegogo to help make this film a reality. The campaign runs until Friday, April 13th. Here’s one of the trailers to give you an idea about what you’ll see:

If you value independent film, please think about contributing whatever you can. If you can’t make a financial contribution, share the links with friends and family and spread the word through any social media sites you use.

You don’t need to have kids (or even like them very much, frankly) in order to support this film. I support this film because I like smart, intelligent comedies and those can be hard to find. Kind of like my sex life. But that’s another story and not one that will be made into any kind of movie.

Lighten Up Your Enlightenment

Is it possible to be spiritual and funny at the same time? This has long been a dilemma of mine that I recently shared over the phone with my friend and fellow blogger, Adele Uddo. We were discussing blogging, life and being on a spiritual path.

Like Adele, I’ve always been a spiritual seeker. 12 years of Catholic school provided me with a good head start. At the very least, studying Catholic Church history during my junior year in high school enabled me to answer “Charlemagne” for the pie in Trivial Pursuit years later. Take that, you public school kids!

What I didn’t find spiritually while growing up Catholic, I tried to find in other ways. I’ve had Tarot cards read. (22 is a powerful number for me but I don’t recall why.) I’ve had my natal chart done and discovered that my Leo sun is buried in the 12th House (probably along with those three Gillian Welch CDs that I can’t find). I went to a psychic who told me that my dream man was a swarthy Greek. The only time that I’d want a man, let alone a swarthy Greek one, would be if I needed a waiter because I ran out of ouzo on vacation in Athens.

So, I have the curiosity but I’m afraid to really embrace my spirituality because I don’t want to become one of those annoying people. I’m not talking about the Tim Tebow types. That goes without saying. I’m talking about those perennially blissed out, airy-fairy types who are always spouting New Age fortune cookie advice at you. You know the type.

New Ager
Money is an illusion.

Tell that to the credit card company.

And spiritual people can be so serious! I can’t imagine that anyone ever sat down with Mother Teresa and told her a joke.


“So a priest, a rabbi and a duck go into a bar…”



How can I find inner peace while not losing my desire and ability to poke fun at the absurd aspects of everyday life? Will I lose my satirical streak if I meditate and commune with the universe? If any of you have any ideas, please let me know. I’ll be over in the corner with the Dalai Lama, a martini and a karaoke machine.