I got the first season of Dharma & Greg on DVD for my birthday (in July), and we’ve finally got around to watching it all.

If you’re unfamiliar with the show, it features the daughter of two aging hippies who marries the son of two wealthy Republicans, and the wackiness that ensues when the families meet. It’s a great show, very well written, often hilarious, and sometimes even quite poignant. But to me, the most poignant thing about the show is how I am both Dharma and Greg rolled into one.

My mother is a definite child of the '60s. She went through EST training, believes in healing crystal energy, and doesn’t eat “anything with a face”. She taught me how to tune my chakras and meditate when I was young. Her favorite programs are on Animal Planet.

My father is a “Lion of Wall Street”. He is an investment banker who is chairman and board member of several commodity brokers associations, committees and exchanges, and serves on the arbitration panel for the NYSE (which helped put away Martha Stewart). He’s a big wig who lives in a “deluxe apartment in the sky” (according to my hubby), and drives luxury automobiles. He watches Bloomberg (and is often interviewed to analyze the market).

I, being a perfect amalgamation of these people, love the finer things in life, but feel guilty about it. I love diamonds, but wear my fakes. I long for Stewart Weitzmans, but shop at Aerosoles. I adore designer handbags, but would never pay full price for one when I can get them on the street for $20. (Well, maybe that’s just the Jew in me.) I crave steak and lobster, but feel guilty eating my fellow creatures (but I do it anyway, cos my fellow creatures are sure delicious).

Where does all this leave me? As a constant source of amusement for my husband, who is cute like Greg, but alas, not rich like Greg.