Please be forewarned that, due to a move this weekend, I will be blogging even less than usual in the month of March. I’ll be trying to Feng Shui my dwelling and basically make major adjustments to my daily life.

I’m now going to sum up the tally of my moves since 1990 when I left home for college. I moved from LA to a dorm room at Barnard (1). I moved from the dorm to a sublet in the West Village (2). After the sublet I moved to another dorm at Columbia (3). Shortly after I took a semester off and moved back to LA to my parents’ house (4). That got old fast so I moved into a friend’s house (5). When it was time to go back to school I moved to a studio in Chelsea (6). The following summer I sublet that studio and went back to LA and semi-moved back to my friend’s house (6.5). Then it was back to the studio for a brief period (7). I decided to move back on up, uptown that is, near Barnard to a two-bedroom apartment in Harlem (8). When college ended I moved back to LA into my parents’ duplex (9). But of course I only lasted a year there and it was back to New York where I briefly stayed at a friend’s place in the East Village (9.5). After about a month I found a share in Chelsea (10). That only lasted about five months but I found a better place, rent stabilized in the East Village (11). I had a good run there until I decided to give Amsterdam a try. I sublet my East Village pad and flew there and couch crashed at a friend’s for a month (11.5). I finally found a railroad apartment in an area called De Pijp (12). But they politely kicked me out a year later so they could raise the rent. So I found a weird storefront/apartment in the charming Jordaan neighborhood (13). I went back to New York to pack up my stuff and give up my place (13.5). Under two years later the Amsterdam place was infested with mice and the cokehead landlord was harassing me so I moved to a gorgeous two story place in another part of the Jordaan (14). But alas, my time was up in Amsterdam. I moved back to my parents’ house in LA (15), temporarily. I found a place in Laurel Canyon and moved in there (16). And here I am at move # 17. Kind of puts it in perspective.

Ok, at this point “Sex and the City” is beyond mainstream; it’s got mythic status. I’m not normally into praising things of such megalithic proportions, but being a card-carrying member of the original ‘Sex and the City’ (i.e. lived it in NYC, did it all, met Candace Bushnell, had a sex column in New York, pre-1998) I’m embracing this show and its ethos as a genius cult of femaleness.

The last episode of “Sex” was not only “not disappointing” (as so many finale shows like “Seinfeld,” for example, have been), but it was fucking fantastic television and I was encouraged to want to write great television scripts because of it. It fully fleshed out every character. And it wasn’t so much that their plots were resolved but that it introduced the beginning of the next level of these girls’ lives. So many great shows end their run by pandering to their audience’s expectations vis-a-vis characters. This show stretched beyond that to give each character another dimension. That’s brilliant writing.

I don’t care if guys think this “Sex” is a load of fluffy femmy crap, they’re wrong. Firstly, it appeals to a certain demographic, but beyond that, men could learn a thing or two about urban women from this show. Sure, separately all the characters started out as stereotypes (the marrying maiden, the predatorial sex maniac, the workaholic and the hipster version of the everywoman) but ultimately, together they all made up the full spectrum personality of a complex urban woman.

I love that the last episode was something akin to a hip urban morality play.
The plotines and their morals:
1/ Carrie: Eventually, even intimacy-phobic guys come around
2/ Samantha: Even sluts fall in love
3/ Charlotte: When the time is right, you’ll know it
4/ Miranda: Love is a behavior

I will deeply miss having the show as a side-by-side companion to my life. Ironically, it started the year I left New York for Amsterdam. I think a lot of women who have closely followed it will use this finale as a marker to take stock of the past six years of their lives. It may seem like it’s just entertainment, but the value of SITC is that it was also a sociological phenomenon and a barometer of the times for women.

The ending proved a very valid point. Initially the show was reactionary against the ‘marrying kind’ and opted for a sophisticated singles lifestyle in an in-your-face kind of way. As it has evolved (and its viewers, and a good part of American female society along with it) I think it may have dawned on people that it’s not either or (the hard-ass city-savvy sexual predator, or the boring, narrow-minded suburban housewife). Women are not TV show caricatures. There’s a sense that we’re able to be many things in life: the saucy diva, the successful career woman, the nurturing supporter and the iconoclastic woman who marches to the beat of her own drummer. Fuck the Quirky Alone movement. It’s just a way of marketing, cheesifying and branding what the brilliant writers at “Sex and the City” have worked so hard to create. Let’s not spoil it by putting ourselves in yet another box.

For years I was jet-setting around Europe, Asia, the Caribbean, having these intense adventures, meeting intriguing strangers and totally living the life of an urban adventurer. It was great. Back then I couldn’t envision a life without those poignant highs (and devastating lows when there was ‘1-800 pin drop’ silence). If you were a twelve stepper, you’d say I was addicted to change, motion, excitement. The idea of being on solid, immovable ground was something akin to the concept of limbo for me.

Without getting too self-indulgent (yeah right), I am delighted to say that life has picked me up and catapulted me in a completely different headspace. I want to celebrate the fact that I didn’t resist this change, but flowed with it, out of curiosity and some kind of weird trust. I guess, if you wanted to get all “Valley of the Dolls” about it, you could reduce it to an aphorism: even party girls grow up.

Basically, what I’ve seen throughout the past year, is a clear vision of beauty inherent in the everyday. It may lack the sparkle that change addicts are drawn to like moths to a flame, but I find it far more fulfilling and rewarding. In fact, it’s deeply comforting in this day and age.

I hate using the word Zen, because it’s so over-used at this point that it conjures up images of bored actresses, housewives and retirees with a new calling. So, instead I will use the lesser known Wabi Sabi. This is the beauty in imperfection, in the nuances of life and even the everyday. I am overjoyed to find that: operators cuss when they make mistakes, that when I’m feeling most creative my house is the biggest mess, that my boyfriend is so very attractive to me when he feels that he’s looking the most unkempt, that just when I’m feeling my worst a huge pimple appears on my face, that houses are still shabby chic and that my name hasn’t been branded.

Halloween is supposed to be the most frightening holiday of the year but many would argue that a quirky one known as Valentine’s Day is far scarier and more loaded. Friday the 13th doesn’t even hold a candle to it for the level of fear it induces in many (perky couples where the guy is whipped and the woman wears the pants, not included). Across the country, after being barraged with visual stimuli promoting an ersatz version of love, singles find themselves feeling unworthy while couples usually have one of their worst fights of the year. The only happy people seem to be those in early (first two dates) pre-relationships or on the morning after a one-night stand, internal studies show.

While many hipsters hate the ickiness and tackiness of this holiday, the female part of the population inevitably falls prey to its evil spell, and secretly hopes that their male counterparts will, “At least do something.” So, the pressure’s on. One single, 36-year-old male from Hollywood proclaims, “Valentine’s Day is like a Quarterly Report for your love life.” He feels that men are stressed as society expects them to perform cheap pony tricks for a treat (i.e. a pat on the head or sexual favors).

For mid-status relationships (not pre-relationships, nor well established relationships) the situation is even worse. “Valentine’s day is evil. You’re forced to proclaim the state of your relationship when you might not be ready yet,” says a 31-year-old woman from San Francisco who is in a relationship. Just the mention of the holiday drags up horrible memories. She recalls one year having received a Valentine’s card from her boyfriend. Excited, she opened it to discover that it read: “I hate Valentine’s day.”

Many men are surprised to find that women, usually those in their late twenties and on, view the holiday negatively as well, but for a different reason. “I hate it,” says a 29-year-old female from Hollywood in a relationship, “Ugh! Reminds me of the sad Valentine’s days I’ve had. That’s why I’m protesting it. It’s the dumbest holiday of all.” Many women have had devastatingly cruel or disappointing Valentine’s days in their pasts and carry this baggage with them. It’s not so much that they hate the idea of expressing affection on a given day, but they fear the crushing disappointment of being ignored or forgotten so they arm themselves with alternate plans or simply pretend the holiday doesn’t exist at all.

For some it is far more deeply entrenched in their psyches and the day has been permanently ruined by just one traumatic incident. “I lost my virginity on the 13th of February and the guy stood me up on Valentine’s day,” recalls a 31-year-old female from Hollywood, in a relationship.

So, what to do on this stressful, insecurity-causing, commercial holiday from Hell? Hope that someone remembers to at least say, “Baby, you’re the best,” but make contingency plans to gorge yourself on heaps of Moet et Chandon with your best friends. Then maybe, if he doesn’t remember, you won’t either.

Each time I sat down to write February’s horoscopes something would go wrong (i.e. human error, computer glitch, etc.) so I took it as a sign that it wasn’t in the stars for this month. In lieu of this, I’d like to bring to your attention a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical/astrological occurrence: the Venus passages.

As you may already know, there are usually two sets of (solar and lunar) eclipses per year. Around these times, give or take a month or so, pivotal changes occur in our lives. These eclipses are par for the course of life–as each year, we go through different phases and changes. What’s new this year (on top of two sets of eclipses in the Spring and Fall respectively) is that Venus will eclipse the sun on June 8, 2004 (and again on June 6, 2012). The last set of these happened in 1874 and 1882) so as you can imagine, this is a pretty spectacular event.

On a grander scale, New Agers and their ilk are pointing to a marked shift in consciousness and a return of some figure (Christ, Quetzalcoatl, Buddha, etc.) or an event. I’d like to take a crack at an astrological approach to this, since, oddly enough, I have encountered mention of it on any astrological sites (with the exception of one, which deals with Western/tropical astrology).

In sidereal/Eastern astrology the eclipse will occur in 23 degrees Taurus. Venus will also go retrograde this year, which means it will remain in roughly the same spot for about four months (close to four times longer than it usually remains). So there are definitely some lessons to be learned and I suspect that this eclipse will deeply impact certain individuals on a personal level. If you have a planet in sidereal Taurus or if sidereal Taurus falls in a house in your chart that is significant, look out (in a good way).

I believe that, unlike regular eclipses, which take anywhere from a week to three months to manifest themselves in our life events, this one will span a bit longer. Some of us might feel the imminent changes coming. But this is the beginning of a new cycle of values and love that will unfold between 2004 and 2012. Expect things to apex around 2008 (but it will differ in different charts). I can tell you right now, without looking at anyone’s chart, that this will especially be a significant one for anyone born between 1971-1973 and 1966. That’s because Jupiter and Saturn respectively were in sidereal Taurus at those times. Other ‘faster’ planets can only be seen in personal charts.