Mayrav Saar

Howling Over A Painting

There’s a wolf staring at me, burning a hole in the back of my head with its unwavering gaze.

It’s smaller than me, but it feels like it’s taking up the whole room. That’s the thing about wild animals, and it’s probably why most people don’t let them into their homes. Of course, I didn’t exactly invite this wolf in.

My mom has been taking art classes for more than a year. She’s quite good. Her sculptures are incredibly life-like, and she’s even been commissioned to sculpt and paint a few pieces for friends and acquaintances. But it’s hard for her to create the pieces her customers want because she’s so busy painting wolves.

Snow wolves. Wolves in the forest. Brown wolves. White wolves. Mom has painted lots and lots of wolves. And now one of them is in my house. And I really don’t know what to do with it.

Cry Me A River ... Or, Maybe, A Brand New Car!

I have no idea whether Hillary Clinton won New Hampshire because she choked up after Iowa. And neither does anybody else.

But the implication that women voted for her because they "felt bad," as many pundits have suggested, is simply insulting. Not to Clinton (who cares about Clinton?) but to me.

I have cried my eyes out for things I have really wanted – a pony, my own island, a "free pass" for a night with Johnny Depp. Have I gotten any of them? No.

 

       

Mom Has A Gift For Inspiring Misgiving

For three weeks, Mom traveled around town with three garbage bags filled with clothes. She had seen some below-poverty-line-types outside a synagogue near my house, and each time she came over to visit, she vowed to donate the clothing for the synagogue to distribute.

Two problems: 1. The synagogue never seemed to be open, and 2. She had no way of knowing if they had any use for cast-off clothes.

The latter issue didn't bother her much. Mom has always been a giver. Know the line drug addicts give about just needing "35 more cents for bus fare?" Mom doesn't. She is always ready with exact change. To eat with her at an outdoor restaurant is to dine with pigeons -- winged rodents Mom insists on feeding because, she says, "They're hungry." When I note that they've eaten more of her meal than she has, she gives me a dirty look -- almost as dirty as the mess the birds leave behind.

One Thanksgiving, Mom insisted on walking to the beach after our meal because she'd seen a homeless man there several hours earlier, and she wanted to bring him a bag of leftovers. It was a kind gesture, but -- of course -- the man was long gone by the time we got there. Never mind, she said, we'd just leave the bag of food at the spot on the beach where he had last been.

"Isn't this littering?" I asked.

Mischa, Mischa, Mischa!

Well, I for one am grateful that Mischa Barton was arrested on DUI charges. I mean, seriously, like, all her friends were picked up this year – Paris and Nicole were even put in the slammer – and what do we hear from Mischa? Just that she broke up with that weird-looking singer guy. It wasn't right.

Now, with all of Hollywood's young woman role models safely behind bars or making regular court appearances (shout-out to Brit!), order has been restored to the universe and the rest of us can get on with our burgeoning drug habits and body dysmorphia.

That was a close one, though, Mischa. Everybody who is anybody got busted for being intoxicated in 2007; you just barely missed the deadline.

I had thought that maybe she was just being fashionably late – you know how fashionable the former star of "The O.C." is. But then I got a look at her booking photo.

Holy cow.