Award season is pretty much over (I think), and I gotta say I ain’t mad at that. But that’s a bit sad because I used to get so amped up over seeing my favorite stars being recognized for their work in music, film, television, and humanitarian efforts. The speeches, the perfect video shots of prideful spouses in the audience, and the standing ovations for legendary appearances by the industry’s greatest. I mean, I would rearrange my schedule just to catch all of this.

At the tail-end of November, a few days after I turned thirty-one, I had an awakening. I remember looking in the mirror, sternly telling myself, “Look, Elana, this is your life. You get what you put into it. Excuses get you nowhere, so continue to focus on the future and connect the nuts and bolts that will help you get to where you want to be.”

Despite the commercialist society we live in and the pressure to gift give and spend your hard-earned paychecks just on stuff to show you care, try to evaluate what is important to you as well as to the person you would like to give a gift to.

I may very well be the Scrooge of Halloween. The idea of “dressing up” on this day (ugh!) gives me a combined feeling of annoyance and anxiety. Those who cheer in their delight to be a mermaid, Frankenstein, dominatrix, rock star, or whoever, Lady Gaga even, sometimes get under my skin. What makes you so excited?

Recently, when hanging out at a bar on Sunset, I looked around, noticing a trend that was scary. It was the “I don’t care what my shape is, I’m gonna show off every curve and lump and bump” mini-dress. I was saddened watching overweight gals trying to keep their legs together when sitting on a bar stool or yanking down their spandex material as they huddled and walked in groups to the restroom. I also couldn’t help but notice that there were very few men being lured in by this style. These ladies, that night, were not unattractive. In fact, you should have seen their smiles, hairstyles, and shoes.

This is the first time I’ve written in more than a month. A break-up will do that to you. Separating my life from someone after nearly five years has been a life-altering experience, to say the least. And amidst the process of moving out, moving in, not having access to a personal computer, and crying on the shoulder of my mother . . . I felt like I lost it.

I know of many girls who do not have female friends because they say that they can’t trust them, and that backstabbing is too prevalent. I say that’s because you don’t have the right friends.