My big burning bush moment.

It was late one night when I was walking to temple for a class on what I think is a deserted residential street. My mind turns to God, our relationship, my mortality, earthly purpose - you get the idea, when I hear it for the first time. "Rebecca." I turn around. I circle myself on the sidewalk and return square to my starting point. I see no one, but hear it again I do. "Rebecca." I am outside his house, thinking of him, this must be God speaking to me. So I say to the voice, "Yes, God, I am here." I'm gearing up for my big burning bush moment, ready to get all Moses on his ass - when the voice subsides and disappointment falls like a light rain shower that dampers your spirits and messes up your hair. Silence. "God?" I say again followed by a "Rebecca?" I hear from the nothingness. I circle and I circle and now I look stupid to anyone who wouldn't know I'm having this moment with someone pretty important who created Earth and me and you and the sidewalk I'm turning in circles on.
When I was young, to talk to God, I'd just kneel right down next to my trundle bed, fold my hands together, close my eyes and speak. But when he's talking to you, and so unexpectedly, what do you do? Do you sit, kneel, should I continue to circle, remain standing? What is proper protocal? So I'm circling, circling, circling, croutching, looking off in to the distance, looking up, looking down, when I notice just the faintest light peering forth from my clutch. My mom calling. She'd love to hear that God is talking to me. So I answer and I say guess what mom, God is trying to speak to me. This is not such a good time. I'll call you back... - when it all starts to make sense. There was no burning bush moment, no voice from beyond, no dialogue with my creator. Just a clutch that held within it a cell phone which had accidently called my mom. She was speaking to me. Shouting at me. Shouting my name. No God. Just Mom.
Best. Blonde. Moment. Ever.

An open letter to Miss Paris Hilton

just for the purposes of my own understanding, and i'm the product of a decade and a half of a los angeles public school education, so bare with me, let me get this straight. paris, you got busted for a dui. totally a bummer. here is what i'm stuck on. per your statements - it's ok if you drive erratically, if only on your way to get a hamburger. and you were super tired but not enough so to not go grab dinner and a night of partying with your girlfriends. and you were legally intoxicated per a field sobriety test but that's only because alcohol affects you faster because you're tall and skinny. and lastly you think it's totally unfair, no wait, it hurts your feelings, that people blow this stuff out of proportion, probably much of the same way hearing that pos song a producer manufactured in a studio everytime i turn on fm radio hurts my ears. so i empathize. hurts your feelings, hurts my ears. listen, duis blow. i get it. but how about just taking responsibility instead of forcing an american audience with little patience for you already to have to endure days, potentially weeks, of this lame spin control. you drank too much, you shouldn't have been driving, and you got caught. life's a bitch. deal.