We interrupt tonight's entertainment

Bad cold. Cough. It's time like this I turn to my secret boyfriend:

Me, Me, Me! It's all about Me!

Can't get your fill of marvelous me? I've got you covered!

1. Hear me read my personal essay "The Reel Classroom," at I Pretend, a spoken word event featuring cool writers at SPACE this Saturday, April 13 from 7:30 to 9:00 PM. Adults only. Suggested donation $5. 1506 Mission Street, South Pasadena, CA. 91030. Phone: 626/441-4788.

2.  Read my story "Genius Unleashed" in the new anthology Literary Pasadena, which also features stories by such acclaimed writers as Michelle Huneven, Victoria Patterson and the always charming Petrea Burchard. (Full disclosure: "Genius Unleashed" is a reworking of my story "Creation," which some of you may have read elsewhere.)

3. Visit me at the LA Times Festival of Books, Saturday, April 20, from noon to one o'clock, where I will be signing copies of Literary Pasadena at the Prospect Park Books booth. USC Campus.

4.  I think it is time that I remind you that Mother's Day is just a month away. What better way to celebrate the moms you love than with a copy of The Goddess Lounge, a story of love, motherhood, a lot of dogs, tons of traffic, a few modern-day monsters and a little divine intervention.

5. You have until the 15th of this month to post a picture of the ugliest shoes of the season. The winner will get eternal glory and an as yet undetermined prize of very little worth. I know that's a little off topic, but I'm just saying...

6. Enough about me. Did I mention that you are rocking those sweat pants! You look fabulous. Stop losing weight already! You're shaming all of us!

7. Wondering about the picture? That's me (looking haggard) and my sweet teen E (looking adorable) at Disneyland a few weeks back. She's a cutie!

Goddess of the Week: Hecate

Ok, people, we have to send good thoughts to Addey. She lost her job and now she needs a career goddess. I thought about this a lot, Addey. I wanted to find you a goddess that signifies not only prosperity (bills must be paid!), but also a goddess that can help you through the kind of journey you are going through right now. So I'm giving you the Greek goddess Hecate.

Hecate was a major player in her heyday, basically early, early Greece, where she was seen as a deity who could bring both prosperity and help around the house. So that should cover some of your needs.

Nowadays, Hecate is mostly remembered as goddess of the crossroads. Whenever ancient travelers would come to a crossroads they would stack up stones as way to honor Hecate in the hopes that she  might help them choose the right road. And that seems like it is part of what you need to do right now, Addey: choose the right road.

Will you try and find the same sort of job? Something different? Or is that even a luxury to think that way? Do you need to take the first job you can land? Talk about your crossroads! Who wouldn't want a little divine intervention dealing with such issues?

Hecate reminds us to slow down. Think about your choices. Sometimes that means recognizing that you do HAVE choices. There is seldom only one road. So what will it be? Where will go? Where will your choices lead you? And who can you count on to give you some Hecate love? Who is going to help you through this journey?

I wish I could help you answer those questions, Addey, but this is your journey. Just remember to see it as such.

Channel this goddess: When the road forks, when you are looking for a job, when you are making tough decisions, when your GPS breaks.

Need a goddess? I got goddesses! Post a comment saying what you need or want a goddess for. Then check back in a week or two and see what you got. It's fun! It's free! It's not quite Siri but Siri doesn't do goddesses. Yet.

Walk this Way! Shoes that are kind of awful

This spring, the well-trod women will let her feet do the talking.

On your way to the top? No glass ceiling will stop you in these spiked sandals, although you might impale small co-workers or even amputate a pinky toe when fetching your morning latte. ($40)

Talk about March madness! High tops meet high heels! Three points just for the color alone! ($165)

Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto! The 80s are back. Chill in these pink dreams. Very good if you have bird ankles. ($90)

Boots! Floral! Wide laces! You don't need to be Laura Ingalls Wilder to look good milking your cow in these babies. Best news of all: They double as mud flaps! ($160)

The blue metallic says, "Kiss my icy lips." The primary color print says, "I don't believe in coloring in the lines." ($80)

Reptilian textured meets graffiti. It says, "I live for danger! ($100)

Breathtaking! I defy you to find an uglier shoe. ($195)

Wanna have fun! I dare you to post the ugliest Spring 2013 shoe you can find. (Details: You will win a prize that is practically worthless, but the glory will be more than you can possibly imagine. I get to chose the winner, although input will be accepted. You have to post it by April 15th.)

PS: All shoes available at Nordstorm. Buy at your own risk.

Goddess of the Week: Eostre

Tania wants a goddess for a glorious Spring. We must give her Eostre, the English (albeit originally German) goddess of spring and rebirth.

Eostre/Easter. Easter/Eostre.

Notice any similaries?

That's because the word Easter comes from Eostre, and we have Eostre to thank for all the fun stuff about Easter.

Easter bunnies? Eostre used to be carried around by a giant hare.

Easter eggs? They were one of Eostre's symbols.

New life? That's what spring is about, baby: winter ends, which means death ends, and new life begins,  as marked by the sudden proliferation of cute little animals, especially birds and bunnies.

Chocolate? Not Eostre at all. The poor English had never even imagined a little Cadbury Egg when Eostre was doing her thing since Cacao is native to South America. But, as Eostre would be the first to say, out with the old and in with the new. So eat all the chocolate you want this Easter! But just don't read this.  It will spoil the whole thing.

The poor little teacher versus the mountain of papers

The poor little teacher stepped onto the treacherous white mountain. The ground was slippery and unstable, as if she were stepping onto a mound of typing paper, and that, of course, was because she WAS stepping onto a mound of typing paper. With each step forward in her stalwart clogs, a page would come loose from the pile and flutter with ugly conviction to her feet. There, it would cut into her sad, exposed heels, leaving paper cut after bitter paper cut. The poor little teacher cried.

Still, the teacher walked on. The papers lashed out at her.  They taunted, "In these Untied States," and "In order to asses this program," and "Americans believe in life, liberty and the pursue of vapidness." The teacher covered her ears to silence the atrocities. She started to run. She had to get over the mountain! She had to! But the papers said, "You will not pass us--I mean, you WILL pass us. Like, literally, because this class is, like, really important to our major--BUT you will not get over our mountain because we are, like, way too POWERFUL and it's not like you have tenure or anything."

Tears welled up in the poor teacher's eyes. She had to cross the mountain. Her very livelihood depended on it. She mustered every ounce of courage, ever ounce of stamina she had left and made one more desperate attempt up the hill. An shiver of laughter ran through the papers, sending each page shuffling in evil glee, and with sudden force the papers rose up before her. They shackled her ankles. She turned, desperate. Would someone save her? Anyone? The papers rose higher. They coiled themselves around her legs and arms. They pasted themselves to her torso. She screamed. "No! No!" But soon her scream was muffled by the sheer weight of the paper as it landed on top of her, smothering her, killing her, erasing her with nary a smudge from existence. The poor little teacher was no more. The poor little teacher...never would she asses anyone ever again.

Margaret Finnegan: Fount of Wisdom

Margaret Finnegan has more things that she would like you to know. She is a fount of wisdom; you should really HEED HER WORDS.

1. You need new shoes. The ones you've been wearing all winter are too beat up and heavy for spring. GO! BUY A PAIR NOW!

2.  I'm going to come right out and say it: You also need new bras. They don't last forever you know. This is may be the only easy fix to gravity's pull. Take it.

3.  Don't listen to those people who tell you that sugar was made by the devil. They are just bringing you down. They are modern Puritans, and no one liked the Puritans even when there were Puritans. One cookie won't kill you (even when you're trying to lose weight).

4.  Seventy-six year old Argentine Pope's with Italian last names may be from Latin America, but it is a stretch to see them as breaking any sort of mold.  Also, do you know what people in Argentina call Argentina: the Europe of Latin America. Also, if, after 600 years, a Pope can say it's ok to retire, why can't he say it's ok to do a bunch of other things?

5.  You are still rocking your neck! It looks fabulous. So, you know, appreciate that.

(PS: In case you're wondering, the woman in the relief is rocking her neck. That's why she is there.)

Goddess of the Week: Yen koang p'ou sa

Laurie needs a goddess for her eyes, and boy do I get it. My family has a long history of eye disorders, and I can tell you that anybody worried about their eyes needs Yen koang p'ou sa, the Chinese goddess of eye diseases.

Not a lot is known about Yen koang p'ou sa; she predates Buddhism. Yet despite her ancient roots, she is both modern and western in her determination to have a medical specialty. She heals eye diseases. That's it. She's not interested in your liver or your feet, just your eyes. And just so you don't get confused, she goes around carrying a big ol' eye. It's kind of her calling card.

Since I couldn't find out any more than that, I am just boldly going to call on you to make her a little altar of edible sacrifices that are full of vitamin A, which is very good for your eyes. Think: carrots, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, spinach, kale and cantaloupe. In other words, if it's orangey or deep green you probably can't go wrong.

Here's a little recipe to get your altar started. Get yourself some butternut squash. Make it easy: buy the precut kind. Take all those precut cubes and mix them with just a little bit of olive oil, sea salt and parsley. Put that in a 400 degree oven and roast until soft. (Every once in a while, while they are still in the oven, you will want to toss them.) You can eat them fresh from the oven, but I like to let them cool and keep them in the refrigerator for a few days. Then, you put them on top of a little salad made of lettuce and walnuts and maybe a little goat cheese. Dress with garlic, olive oil and lemon juice.

It will be good for your eyes, and it will give you that satisfying feeling that you always get when you are practicing better nutrition than your negligent dining companions.

Channel this goddess: When your eyes need a little TLC. Give them the love! Eat a carrot!

I am very smart. Listen to me.

Margaret Finnegan would like to remind you of the following:

1. You look lovely in a little color. Lighten up on the beiges and blacks. Only the boring birds are desperate to appear neutral.
2. That depressing book you're reading? The one about the futility of life? Blah, blah, blah, all ready. If you want depressing, Google landfills. Read something that reminds you that your life is a gift. Have fun. Read this.
3. You are always happiest when you've made time to visit with that one friend. I can't remember her name. You know who I mean. Maybe you should call her.
4. Treat yourself as well as you would want people to treat your children (or your dog). So go to bed! It's late!
5. It's really not your fault. Let it go. You know what I'm talking about.

I don't mean to nag. I'm just saying.

PS: There will be a goddess later this week. Promise!

The Birthday Girl

The birthday girl would like to make perfectly clear that she wants the following:

1. To sleep in.
2. To not have to look at any dirty dishes on her birthday.
3. To be surrounded by happy, angelic faces that are not complaining about her cooking.

She would like to further clarify that by happy, angelic faces she means more than actual faces. Happy, angelic faces should be attached to, if not happy, angelic bodies, at least bodies that do not exude a general disdain for the cursed circumstances of their lives, and by cursed circumstances she means everything they blame their mother for.

She would also like to clarify that by not looking at dirty dishes she means that the dirty dishes should not be simply hidden at the bottom of the sink. They should be in the dishwasher. That is the only place for them.

She would also like to clarify that by sleeping in she means that everyone should leave her alone for as long as she wants.

Also, the birthday girl would like extensive praise and exhibitions of gratitude for all she does, but she will settle for cake.*


*The Birthday Girl will not name names, but she would like to reassure her husband that this list is not about him. He is only good. He can, however, make her dinner. Also, she will allow Academy Award merriment to co-exist with her special dayness.