A Year of Family

Recent Contacts

2009-01-12T18:18:00.000-08:00

I laid off this blog because I didn't know, really, how to express my feelings about my family. And I didn't even feel like I was failing to express them in an interesting way.

It was really just depressing me.
It still is.

My aunt went into the hospital suddenly last night (she's okay now, just scared everyone), my mom refused to go see her, and mostly I just feel stuck a thousand miles away, powerless and frustrated.

I was so upset today, and I don't know if it's because I'm more worried about my aunt's health or disgusted with my mom's behavior. Compassion or pettiness.

Also I ordered some Chinese food Saturday night.

I don't call, I don't write

2009-01-08T16:07:00.001-08:00

It's time to level with you.

You may have seen the signs.
It's been written all over my profile for weeks now.
I went back to my old blog.

I never should have left. I was a fool. I'm back, but this time it's not just for a year.

http://alifetimeofdubioussuccess.blogspot.com

mister

2008-12-29T20:53:00.001-08:00

one of my favorite things about Brandon's family is their penchant for giving their cats ridiculous nicknames.

This is Taupey, who is taupe in color.

She is more often known as Crotchety Von Softness, so I'll let you guess about her personality and what her fur feels like.

I mean, how can you not love this guy.

2008-12-15T08:18:00.001-08:00

Obama: South Side Is "My Kennebunkport'

home cookin

2008-12-14T20:39:00.000-08:00

My grandmother and aunt like to buy little community-created cookbooks. The kind of thing where everyone in 4-H or a squaredance club or ladies auxiliary all contribute a dozen recipes apiece, then someone collects and organizes them, and out comes a cookbook.

I always find the titles delightful.

Disciples Delights II - recipes from the First Christian Church
Recipes You Can Bank On - from the bank where my aunt works
Recipes From The Heart - from Gainesville Memorial Hospital

dread and anticipation

2008-12-10T20:01:00.000-08:00

I am dreading this visit to my family. Brandon is looking forward to it.

Brandon is dreading the visit to his family. I am looking forward to it.

I am--
WHY THE CONCEALED HANDGUN PERMITS???

ARE YOU SERIOUS??

WHY???

Can I ask why without Mom getting totally defensive?? Maybe I can get Brandon to ask casually? WHY did you file for SPECIAL PAPERWORK to carry a HIDDEN SMALL FIREARM?

Sigh. Okay.

Where are YOU going? Are you apprehensive? Excited? I know my cousin Roger can't wait to go to the East coast and figure out if he wants to quite law school (warning: if you follow that link, shield your eyes from the color scheme, it is truly jarring). And I mean, well, THAT's exciting.

What about other people? I gotta set up some polls. Maybe you'll even vote on them. That would be great.

In the meantime as I continue my spiral of self-doubt ...thanks everyone for reading.

questions the night before a weekend in Texas

2008-12-10T18:10:00.001-08:00

1. Is this going to suck?

2. Why did my mom and stepdad get concealed handgun permits?

3. Will seeing relatives I haven't seen in a long time get us any more wedding presents?

always relay phone messages.

2008-12-08T07:43:00.001-08:00

Last night, as we were watching Iron Man, we decided to ignore the land line phone (our direct line to telemarketers) ringing.

This sparked something in Brandon's mind.

OH, he said. OH. I forgot to tell you, your grandmother called the other day. I'm so sorry. I totally forgot.

This is not a big deal, we've been playing phone tag.

I totally forgot, he continued. Yeah. She called. She said that someone had died.

...what?

It was her sister? Was it her brother? I don't know. I was on my way out the door.

well can you clarify 'the other day?'

... nnnnno, no, it was the other day.

So that was my great-aunt, who had died the day before thanksgiving. I sent no flowers to the funeral. I didn't even call with condolences. Just confusion and shock late last night, a week after the funeral.

I feel like a total jerk. Even though it wasn't my fault, I feel like such an asshole.

"Well, I was very surprised at you," was my grandmother's measured reply.

the obits from the Texarkana Gazette

2008-12-07T20:30:00.001-08:00

I wasn't particularly close to my great-aunt, who was 89.
More than anything, I feel terrible for my grandmother, her sister.
What is it like to know someone for 88 years, and then one day, they're gone? I would think it must be devastating. And so scary.

"It's the loss," is all she keeps saying. She doesn't talk about her feelings much. "It's the loss. The loss is felt."

tao of kind gestures

2008-12-06T10:35:00.000-08:00

is my brownie the shape of a heart, or is my heart the shape of a brownie?

the post that is the new top google hit for 'stick it out'

2008-12-04T21:55:00.000-08:00

First Friend Divorce today. Well. I found out about their divorce today, that is.

Well, that just sucks.
I'm at a loss for what else to say.

I watched them marry.
I danced with them and ate their cake.

When do you stick it out? Is it enough to stick it out for the sake of sticking it out if sticking it out just makes you really unhappy and you're the only one who actually CARES if you stick it out anyway? What if you start a blog you realize you don't actually enjoy posting on?

When is it loyalty and when is it stubbornness?

I guess there is nothing wrong, really, with admitting you made a mistake, it's just how you deal with cleaning it up.

absence of poignant post

2008-12-02T14:56:00.000-08:00

Okay, I admit it. I did think my family situation was kind of unique. All the estrangements, all the freezeouts. All the rifts.

So maybe it's a little extreme, but it isn't unique.

Brandon's mom talked a little bit about her dad while she was here. Our stories are different but not so different.

I guess it's easy for people to talk about nice family relationships in polite conversation. So I just assumed that since I only heard about the nice ones, there weren't any lousy ones.

But any amount of listening to the things that AREN'T said tells me that half the time, there's a brother no one's heard from, or a dad who just disappeared to Vietnam when he found out he was dying of cancer.

I gotta listen better. And more.

So I thought I'd be sharing and exploring, but this all feels like territory that everyone knows a little too well.

now, that was nice.

2008-12-01T13:27:00.000-08:00

Brandon's mom left us a note before she left last night.

an experiment in saying maybe the best thing I could have said? Extra question mark?

2008-11-26T11:07:00.000-08:00

A gradual freezeout has been forming.

As usual, the holidays make darn sure that everyone knows about whatever tension has been percolating all year, turns the gas up underneath it, and then sits back to watch the explosion.

From our phone conversation. PHONE CONVERSATION. (cause I called. finally.)

Mom: I'm getting a ham from Rudy's, then I guess I'll make cheese taters and green beans. And THAT'S IT.

Me: Is Aunt Sherri making anything?

Mom: I told her she could get rolls.

Sounds like a blast.

Brandon's mom (the cat lady) is flying in late tonight, and I'm completely delighted. I made way too much food with way too many different cheeses. I would say I bought way too much wine, but I just can't ...really ...believe that's possible.

Brandon and I are visiting Texas in a few weeks. Mom asked what our plans were.

Me: Well, we'll probably spend some time with Mimi and Aunt Sherri ...would you want to come hang out with us there for a while?

Mom: nnnope.

Me: ... not at all?

Mom: nnnope.

Me: is this something I should ask about?

Mom: nnnope.

Me: Mom, come on. What's going on?

Mom: nnnope.

[I think about my last post]
[this is the experiment part]

Me: Well ... I love you.

Mom: (now crying)

Me: Very, very much.

Mom: (crying more)

And that was that.
So I'm glad I'm here for Thanksgiving.

What can you do?

I'll tell you this so you can keep reminding me of it.

2008-11-24T07:48:00.000-08:00

The best performers don't fight their scene partners for focus or attention or the biggest laughs; they set up their partner so he or she gets them. They're behind-the-scenes while on stage. That takes a lot of confidence and grace and maturity. To be that performer. It is not for the insecure.

It's a lot like ...

Hang on. I can't say this quite yet.
Pardon me a moment and let me just take this mauve smoking jacket here and put it on... ah, that's nice. I do like the tapestry accent at the lapels. You don't mind if I smoke a pipe? No? Well. Let's have a brandy at least. Excellent.
Now I can actually write this next part.

Life, too, gives you scene partners: your family.

Ugh. No. Not even the brandy snifter helped me sell that one.

Side note while I stall: on the rare occasion that I actually have something good to say, I never know how to say it. Without it just sounding inSANELY pompous.

try again.

In work (onstage), in hanging out with friends, in dealing with my family, I want to be that guy. The one who makes you feel great and funny and interesting all the time. Not the guy who starts to feel intimidated and starts screaming HEY I AM GREAT AND FUNNY AND INTERES--- HEY! ARE YOU LISTENING? I SAID I'M FUNNY AND I AM ALSO HEY! ARE YOU LISTENING!? in bar conversations.

There are three things this week that informed this.
I should probably make them separate posts, since I try to keep these short, but what the hell.

Thing One:
I have a cousin who is just incredibly 'socially gifted,' as Rachel says. He is 20 times cooler than me but he still makes me feel like what I have to say and what I'm up to is totally fascinating. He has this effect on everyone. He's not the only person I've known like this, but hanging out with him made me realize what a wonderful trait that is to have. It improves the world.

Thing Two:
I finally admitted this past week, I am really jealous of one of my cousins. I have been for a long time. I've been trying to downplay his [astounding] accomplishments since I met him, because it feels like acknowledging someone else's accomplishments only highlights how pathetic mine are. And THAT is a complete FAIL at trying to be more like person from Thing One.

Thing Three:
As I cleaned the entire kitchen top to bottom last night instead of calling my mom ... AGAIN ... I thought about why I didn't want to call her. How negative she can be about the rest of the family, and how I hate to listen to it. How I really wished she would just love them for who they are and be there for them no matter what.
At which point I took a particularly deep huff of Soft Scrub and thought:
So I should probably just love her and be there for her no matter what.

Calling her today. Promise.

owning up

2008-11-23T16:50:00.000-08:00

I haven't wanted to post much lately. I don't really want to post now. Sort of in the way that I don't want to do my Sunday Round of Family Calls, even though I really SHOULD make the Sunday Round of Family Calls.

I like how, when I'm learning lines, if there's a certain line I just CANNOT get into my head, it's my brain giving me a secret signal that I actually hate that line. Maybe because I don't understand it. Or it hits too close to home. It's interesting. Revealing your subconscious at work.

Sort of like I CANNOT get myself to call my family.
Okay fine, I'll say it. This is awful, but I didn't call last week either. There. I told you. What a nasty blow to my ridiculous TransFamily Outreach Worker ego.

And there's the phone. And I avoided looking at it all afternoon as I took a nap, watched football, and shelled pecans.

Obviously it isn't a line I'm at odds with. It's facing up to other people. Including you, blog readers. It's something I'm doing or have done. Something I'm not okay with. It's just a feeling. Do you ever feel guilty without knowing what you feel guilty about?

famous families

2008-11-20T19:53:00.000-08:00

Malia Obama was at Brandon's theater today to see the show. He found out yesterday and called me immediately, demanding that I swear to twentybilliontimesover secrecy before he would tell me what was up.

He did talk to the secret service a bit and said they were really nice, and that even as he was chatting with them, their eyes never stopped darting around, looking at everything, everything, everything.

Wikipedia tells me that the Secret Service's name for Malia is Radiance. Who comes up with these names? I think that's just lovely.

houses apartments condos dorms and believe it or not, one castle

2008-11-19T19:03:00.000-08:00

In the past 18 years, I've moved [all earthly possessions] 16 times.

Too much.

But, I do think that I am very good at moving. I have a few rules. Like the first thing you set up in the new place is toilet paper and the stereo. It's important for morale.

This April will be the first time I've ever been in one place for longer than 2 years since I was 10 years old. I'll probably just instinctively start packing.

For now, I love my home. My favorite thing about it is that during the winter you can hear the wind whistling and howling at night. It totally ups the coziness factor.

Tonight I can hear the howling for the first time this winter.

gloat

2008-11-18T21:19:00.001-08:00

Despite being a Grade A jerk when reacting to my aunt's emails, I gotta tell you.
I am luckyluckylucky, and yeah, I'll say it, BLESSED, to be with this guy.

Dinner and drinks with some girlfriends tonight. One is trying to determine if a 4-month old relationship is worth salvaging and as she had a good old fashioned OMG GIRLS WHAT IS UP WITH MY B-FRIEND talk, I kept thinking and occasionally asking, ...well, can't you just ask him/talk to him/tell him how you feel?

And then I remembered that I forget how rare it is to find someone you can ask/tell/say those things to.

I told all this to Brandon when I got home. He turned around and wiggled his butt at me in triumph and yelled SMACK IT!

Could I love him any more.

cripes I am defensive.

2008-11-18T13:24:00.001-08:00

from my aunt:

How long is Brandon’s Mom going to be with you and is that all you will have for Thanksgiving?

What do you mean, "is that all?" That's PLENTY, okay? Geez, back OFF.

(huffy door slam)

(brief pause)

(door opens and slams huffily again for extra effect)

Wow.
Who knew that someone asking if I made their present could make me into such an ass.

happy housewife

2008-11-18T07:07:00.000-08:00

Oh, look at that. Let me drop these off then run to my Walgreens voiceover session at 4.

I haven't had a steady full time job since college. Instead, I work freelance, or as my cousin Cesar so accurately puts it, hustling.

When you freelance.
When you have no work.
It is easy to panic and spend your yawning empty days staring at your not-ringing phone.
...And possibly crying and calling your mom a lot, but I swear that was just my first year out of college.

When you freelance.
When you have FIFTY JOBS AT ONCE and you need them all because the #1 rule of beginning as a freelancer is TAKE THE JOB ANY JOB.
It is easy to work 16 hours a day and still not get everything done and only dream of being able to cook a meal for yourself or see friends.

The best way to freelance is [okay - well, have a 6-month cushion of savings] to have a big nice job coming up soon, and ENJOY THE TIME of unemployment leading up to it.

... hang on, I don't think I'm using my caps lock enough. ENJOY THE FREAKING TIME.

I'm happily unemployed until late December, when I start rehearsals as Helena in Midsummer for MULTIMILLIONDOLLAR FANCY THEATER COMPANY. What a great way to spend December.

I'm so damn happy, I think I'll change the shower curtain and make a stew.

How to tell if a gift is handmade or not.

2008-11-17T13:01:00.000-08:00

Here. I made this for you. You can use it in the upcoming gift-giving season.

I made it for you in my flowcharting class.

gift reaction

2008-11-17T11:37:00.000-08:00

Well, this is one dangerous comment that can really go one of two ways.

Well I got a package in the mail today from you and thank you the deer is very cute did you make it?

...I didn't make it.

While I'm flattered that my aunt thinks I'm so talented, I'm not sure where I would have picked up forging metal into small tree ornaments without it sort of coming up somehow.

You know what? I'm going to make something for you all. Right now. Sit tight. It's coming.

delights

2008-11-16T09:46:00.000-08:00

One of the nicest things I'm discovering about being around little kids is sharing things with them that I loved so much when I was a kid.

And by 'things,' I pretty much just mean books.

Oh Maurice Sendak. ALL your pictures make me happy.

Of course, Little Bear is still around, but now he looks like this:

Sweet moses, it looks like the Berenstein Bears took a crap on him then tumble-dried him on the wrong setting.

Seriously, look at this.

Now tell me you don't feel like you just ate a huge hunk of cake out of your own paws and are preparing to take a very satisfying nap.

When I watched my friends' daughter, we read my copy of Little Bear. The one I've had since I learned to read with it. I'm going to her birthday party today. I tried to buy her a copy of it, but of course the bookstore had the OTHER books in the series, but not the first one - the one we read.

Me: This sucks. Well, I guess I'll just get her these. I wish they had the original one.

Brandon: Why don't you just give her yours?

(panicked silence)

Me: ...But.

Brandon: Isn't that the point of keeping things from when you were a kid? So that you can pass them on?

Me: ...But.

Brandon: Give her those two you have in your hand there, and then put yours in there too. It'll mean a lot.

Happy birthday, Delia.
YOU BETTER LIKE THESE BOOKS, KID.

It just keeps coming.

2008-11-15T12:23:00.001-08:00

Going back to this story for the 4th time today, I clicked through to a blog linked by CNN. The poor guy had, predictably, gotten a LOOOOTTT of comments. Which, when not filled with fury, hate, or scripture, were very interesting.

From a father of a severely autistic (and frequently violent) child:

...At least one agency suggested we legally abandon the child and just deal with the legal ramifications (i.e. going to jail). After three years of fighting, despairing and sometimes hoping I could stomach suicide, we finally found a place that will take her for a little while while the state actually deems to help us. So I can’t blame these people. I don’t know their stories, but I am betting a lot of them are like me.

"Skip:"

You people live in fairy land. Don’t you realize those kids are emotionally sick? The parents can’t take care of them and might even be afraid of them. Afraid to sleep at night, because there are diseases of brain and they have no one to turn to for help...

And a woman researching the situation:

I’m actually writing a curriculum issue on it … no easy answers in a lot of those situations. It would be very easy to pass judgment on the parents, but many of them are living in fear for their lives and not getting help from their local and state agencies. Hopefully this whole situation will also shed some light on some overwhelmed and underfunded social service agencies.

Okay. I'm stepping away from cnn and reorganizing the office for reals now.

I just keep thinking about this.

2008-11-15T11:08:00.000-08:00

You, know, this.

Okay, no surprise, I have abandonment issues. When my dad left us very suddenly, then disappeared for several months, I felt abandoned. When my sister left a year or so later, then also disappeared, I felt double-abandoned. Neither is in my life any more. Absent, mysterious, estranged. The words I use to describe them.

I keep thinking about what that woman said who drove from Georgia to Nebraska in order to legally abandon her son:

"Do not judge me as a parent. I love my son, and my son knows that," Brown said.

Does he? At this point, what does her son actually know?
I'm trying to remember. Did I know they loved me?
I remember feeling bad for them and understanding they had to do what they had to do. I remember it made sense to me. I really wanted to be understanding.
I was a kid, and my older family members were still infallible. And the more I thought about it, the more I just wasn't worth their time.

I wish I could say I've been able to outgrow that feeling.

The Department of Health and Human Services published a background profile on 30 of the 34 safe haven cases. The report found:

Twenty-seven children have received mental health treatment.

No shit.

... and honestly, maybe some of those kids ARE better off away from their parents. Who knows?

When is it better to have a family, any family, even if they make you feel terrible?

test your empathy.

2008-11-15T09:02:00.000-08:00

Oh man oh man.

Nebraska fears rush to drop off kids before haven law change

In a nutshell: Nebraska recently passed a "safe haven" law to allow parents of newborns to leave their babies at hospitals. Sort of the Dickensian baby-left-in-basket-at-convent-door thing.
All states have this law.
Nebraska has one problem with theirs:

Unable and unwilling to define EXACTLY how old the baby could be (3 months? 72 hours?), they used the ambiguous word "child" to cover all the bases.

And THAT was the mistake.

From the article:

Of the 34 children who have been dropped off at hospitals, officials said, not one has been an infant. All but six have been older than 10.

There has been a mini-national rush to unload unwanted sons and daughters. One father FLEW. From FLORIDA. Just to cash in on the opportunity to dump his teenage son. Nebraska is holding an emergency legislative session to amend the language.

I credit the general spokespeople of Nebraska for finding politic ways to say, "what the fuck are you DOING," and "?!??!???????!!??"

"Please don't bring your teenager to Nebraska," Gov. Dave Heineman said. "Think of what you are saying. You are saying you no longer support them. You no longer love them."

You have to wonder what the stories are behind these 34 kids.

Tysheema Brown drove from Georgia to leave her teenage son at an Omaha hospital.

"Do not judge me as a parent. I love my son, and my son knows that," Brown said. "There is just no help. There hasn't been any help."

Fair enough. I absolutely cannot judge this woman. I can seriously doubt the second half of her second sentence, but I don't know her story. Maybe this was truly the bravest, hardest, wisest choice she could make.

State Sen. Tom White said lawmakers have been caught off-guard by the number of teenagers taken in under the law.

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say: this catches us ALL a little off-guard.

lots of families

2008-11-14T08:39:00.000-08:00

Since starting this blog, I've been thinking a lot about the different families I feel like I'm part of. One of them is definitely the family of working Chicago actors, which is a family I really love being part of. Especially being around the older ones, hearing stories about decades of performing.

Tuesday afternoon I did a play reading downtown with a handful of older actors. It was really lovely to sit with 6 strangers and to feel so connected to them. Why do they feel like my family? Why did the 5 women in the bellydancing class I took last night feel like a kind of family too?

I found out my [estranged] sister, who lives in DC, was in Grant Park last Tuesday night. We must have been within yards of each other.

Here's a picture of the stage we used for the reading.

I took this picture as part of one of my monologues. I don't know if the choice really worked, but my actor family rolled with it.

family values

2008-11-14T07:06:00.000-08:00

Larissa wrote a great response in the comments to my Recurring Nightmare.

My cousins and sister and I visited another cousin/uncle combo on their farm in Michigan from time to time. Most of the time it was boring (Cousin Jason was a boy. Read: did not like girls. Just videogames and scaring chickens.) But one year, when I was about 8, Uncle Eddie had a whole mess of kittens at the farm. The cutest, sweetest, cuddliest little things all nestled up in a red wood shed in the middle of a sprawling, kodachrome green lawn. We spent hours playing with them and named them Sox, Cubs, Bears, and basically anything else vaguely Chicagoan. We played with them in my Uncle's RV. We sprinkled them with rosepetals pulled off the bushes. We stuffed them in discarded purses and set them free again. In short, we loved them, and each other, in ways we never before thought possible. And then we went home.

When a few months had passed, it was time to go to Uncle Eddie's farm again. My sister and I could hardly wait until the car was in the drive in front of the pale blue farmhouse. We itched to be loosed from our static, seatbelted prison and enter the land of all that is Cute and Cuddly. Finally, after a few forced pleasantries and chin-chucks at the front of the house, we raced back into the yard and to the red shed. We called out for them. Sox! Cubs! Ditka! But no mewling answered. The shed was empty.

We ran back to Uncle Eddie, sipping beer calmly in the breezy country kitchen. "Uncle Eddie!" we asked, frantic. "Where are the kittens?"

"Oh." He said, not putting down his beer. "They got into the antifreeze I had out in the shed. Found 'em all in there. They're dead." He took another swig and asked someone when they'd be playing cards.

As a mostly urban little girl who visited the rural relations frequently ... yes. (except for naming kittens after Mike Ditka.) I mostly remember my grandfather explaining runts to me. And why the tiniest, cutest one was not going to make it.

Rural view: Well, animals die.
Urban view: You heartless bastards.
Urban Little Girl View: (barely intelligible from sobs) I'M GOING TO DIE NOW TOOOOOOOOOO (sets to work creating elaborate kitten memorial out of twigs and small rocks)

Recurring nightmares.

2008-11-13T10:16:00.000-08:00

In my lifelong recurring nightmare, I am directly responsible for the criminal neglect of a helpless animal. Sometimes it's my real-life dog or cat. Other times it's an innocent box full of kittens. They are starved, living in their own filth, and/or gnawing at their own limbs because I completely forgot about them.

I think I have this nightmare more when there's a lot on my mind, and I'm afraid that someone will be very hurt if I let even ONE THING slip my mind.
Like, for instance, a birthday card.

Last night I dreamed I left Bowie taped shut in a shoebox for 14 hours.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaack.

name. pt 1.

2008-11-11T23:15:00.000-08:00

I got married in June.
I legally changed my name. Last week I changed it professionally too.
The distinction may not seem big, but when you're an actor, it's your entire business name. Googling myself before and after is harsh. It feels an awful lot like tossing the last 8 years out the window and starting from scratch.

... that's right, I just admitted to the difficulties of GOOGLING MYSELF.
Back to the message!

My dad left when I was 11. My last name was something he left behind after he walked out on us. Not purposefully left behind, i.e., Boy Named Sue-left-behind with well-meaning but questionable parenting skills, but ditched. I felt ditched. With his damn name stuck to me.

As a grown-up feminist with grown-up feminist friends, a few have already raised their eyebrows at parties that I changed my name so quickly and so easily.

In some Islamic cultures, women don't change their names when they get married. They carry their father's name until the day they die.

...I'm not going to be able to explain this all in one post, I guess.

I think I said it well to Tai, a few months ago, a little drunk at the Edgewater. Maybe I was just drunk so I thought I was being more eloquent than I actually was. What I said was, 'it's the difference between one family, that is REQUIRED to love you, that kicks you out and wants nothing to do with you, and another family, strangers who don't owe you a damn thing, who pick you out and bring you in and says, 'we want HER. This one is one of OURS.'
... and that makes me happy and proud to say, hell yes, and call myself a Campbell.

Apart from the joy and relief at just being picked ... they are kinder people. They aren't the ones I was born into. They are the ones I chose.

I don't see it as a betrayal of my feminism. I see it as an assertion.

doing a bad job

2008-11-11T10:25:00.000-08:00

birthday card to father in law: late
birthday card to grandmother: late
birthday gift to aunt: very late
birthday card to aunt: just barely made it
birthday card or gift to niece: not gonna happen, kid. Sorry.

...freaking November.

my pie dish.

2008-11-11T09:25:00.000-08:00

I went over to my cousins Laura and Jordan's place last night. They refused any offer of liquor, so I brought a pie.

Plus, bonus, I got there and they had Fritos. Friiiiiiitoooooossssss.

(Incidentally, do you need a good apple pie recipe? Use this sour cream and apple pie recipe, and use Mexican crema instead of regular sour cream. Then just put your face directly in it.)

I left full of pie and wine ... and fritos... and was so happy to leave my pie dish there. It felt like leaving a sweater over at a new boyfriend's apartment. It's a quiet promise to see each other again, to trade more desserts and evenings.

Continuing to build a family here in Chicago makes me wonderful, wonderful.

family brawls

2008-11-10T07:33:00.000-08:00

Mmhm. Even the family of God.

...hotheaded young monks.

Monks brawl at Christian holy site in Jerusalem
Israeli police cuff men next to Jesus' tomb in Church of the Holy Sepulcher

updated 34 minutes ago
JERUSALEM - Israeli police rushed into one of Christianity's holiest churches Sunday and arrested two clergyman after an argument between monks erupted into a brawl next to the site of Jesus' tomb.
The clash between Armenian and Greek Orthodox monks broke out in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, revered as the site of Jesus' crucifixion, burial and resurrection.

phone calls

2008-11-09T15:40:00.000-08:00

I just tried to call my [mysterious absent] father's folks. Just to say hi. The first 10 seconds of the call is always terrifying. I get hot flashes and my pulse pounds. Still.

Once, a few years ago, I called and a woman answered the phone. Thinking my grandmother's voice maybe just sounded a bit strange, I said what I always say: "Hi, GrandMary!"

Long pause. A very hostile "...Excuse me?"

My brain short-circuits. Zzzg. zzg. Woman on phone at grandmother's house must be grandmother. Try again.

I sputter. "Grandmary?"

Disgusted, icy voice of a middle-aged woman. "I'm sorry... Who? Are you trying to reach?"

I pull it together. "I'm sorry. I was trying to reach Mary Newell, please."

I am answered by an exasperated sigh and a long pause as the phone is handed off to my grandmother.

WHO WAS THAT?
WHY WAS SHE SO MEAN?
I still have no idea.
Everyone knows my family's name for my grandmother. Whoever she was, she knew I was family.

Later I found out that this was around the time my [mysterious absent] father and [estranged] sister had just had a falling-out. So if it WAS my stepmother, she might have mistaken me for my sister and greeted me with the same loathing.

I don't know why that's comforting, but it is.

So. Anyway. Every time I call my grandparents, I'm so afraid THAT WOMAN will answer the phone again that it involuntarily affects my breathing and heart rate.

Typing this, it's pretty ridiculous to dread a bitchy voice on the other end of the line. I mean. It doesn't keep me from calling ComEd when I gotta.

This makes me realize why I think I may have started this blog:
To help myself realize that really, it's not such a big fucking deal.
Today's lesson: I fear a mean voice on the phone.
Seriously, Lacy.

my mother in law, the cat lady

2008-11-08T15:30:00.000-08:00

I have never met anyone who loves cats like Brandon's mom. Don't worry, she restrains herself - I think her max was 3 at once. She contents herself by working in a vet's office.

Here she is, trying to make out with Bowie last time she visited.

Over the summer, her daughter, granddaughters, and son in law all moved halfway across the country - just leaving her and Parker, her cat. So she timed it out to get a new kitten as they were leaving to take her mind off missing them so much. Smart.

She just found out that Parker, 3 years old, has a lung disease and will die sometime in the next month to a year. He's had bronchitis but that was treatable, so now he's feeling better and romping more. But he won't recover ultimately.

...welcome to deathpost saturday on my blog.

garage sale

2008-11-08T15:18:00.000-08:00

My mother took my grandfather's death probably the hardest of all of us. At times I have thought she was being pretty unreasonable. For instance, she has fought this garage sale tooth and nail, bursting into tears at the prospect of it.

But it's been a few years now, and even she admits she can't hang on to everything he ever owned.

The sale is this weekend.

(As a side note, please be sure to catch the Gainesville Daily's claim to fame on its masthead.)

13400540
65 CR 2124 (just off Old Denton Road)- Equipment for: cabinet making, carpentry, plumbing, electrical, maintenance, fishing, camping. Includes woodworking machines, power tools, hand tools, doors, lumber, plywood, nails, screws, hardware, misc. Friday- Saturday, 8-3.

Seeing the ad, I have to admit I'm sad about it too. That paragraph is a pretty good summation of my grandfather as translated in worldly possessions, except, you should probably add 'gospel, bluegrass and square dancing records' and expand the hell out of that modest 'misc' claim.

presents

2008-11-08T15:11:00.000-08:00

Word from my new in-laws: Drawing names is out. Buying for everyone with a $15 price limit is in. Christmas just went up in price but, to be honest, probably also in warm fuzziness.

List of gift ideas for a 12 month old, 5 year old, brother in law, father in law, father in law's maybe girlfriend maybe just roommate/renter.

genetics, politics

2008-11-05T10:21:00.001-08:00

I had my own Obamawear last night.

At 5'11, I'm the tallest person I know of in my family, except for my [mysterious absent] father. He lives somewhere in South Carolina. I wonder how he voted.

I feel fairly certain my [estranged] sister voted Democratic. Everyone else is strong Republican base.

The three of us always stuck out as more bookish, cynical, artsy, I don't know what you'd really call it ... than the rest of the family. The ones who listened to NPR in a family where no one else knew it existed. They've always felt like such complete kindred spirits in so many ways. But also kind of assholes.

democracy hangover

2008-11-05T08:42:00.000-08:00

I am so happy. I am so relieved.

In case you're wondering what it was like to be standing in Grant Park seconds after CNN called the election, here's ten seconds of dizzying pandemonious glee.

Last night when the next president promised emphatically "I will be honest with you," I thought, my gosh. We've gotten so used to being lied to, knowing we're being lied to, and feeling totally powerless about it.

When over 100,000 of us said the pledge of allegiance together, I meant those words like I never have before.

Then, after 8 hours of standing in security lines and crowds and groups and other forms of standing and cheering and hugging and tearing up, we walked and walked right down the middle of Michigan Avenue. People were spontaneously gathering to sing the national anthem together. Strangers high-fived, hugged, power-knucked each other. It was like walking through a stationary parade. We got pitchers of beers and baskets of wings and we were all so happy. We were all so relieved.

just try to tell me there's no connection between theater and politics

2008-11-03T19:36:00.001-08:00

ditto with sports, but I don't have a video like this to gleefully share.
One day more. Thank goodness.

Also, when did my blog become a freaking Obama commercial? I do not know. Sorry if it's overwhelming.

gah, don't worry, it'll be over soon

2008-11-03T19:23:00.000-08:00

The fact that I spent a few hours tonight researching and making a packet of which subcircuit judges to retain, water reclamation committee members to support, and senators and representatives to elect for myself and my husband is:

responsible
controlling
pathetic
nice but you should have been sober

family get togethers

2008-11-03T18:50:00.001-08:00

Trying to coordinate meeting up in Grant Park for election night so far has required 34 **update, 40 emails.

Most of us are already ~~friends~~ cousins, but I'd say we're definitely bonding even further over this.

I Will Not Waste This Day

2008-11-03T16:16:00.000-08:00

My theater company has worked with Cleveland school, one of the better Chicago Public Schools, for years. In the mornings they say the Pledge of Allegiance, after which,

...they say the Student Pledge.

The Student Pledge is probably too long and it's definitely as preachy as you think it would be, about trying your hardest and promising to focus... but it's actually really lovely in its own way.

Rachel loves the conclusion the most: "I will not waste this day, because this day will never come again."

Today when I heard it - maybe I heard this wrong, but I could swear I heard them say: "I will respect my teachers and my cousins."

Teachers and COUSINS!
Everyone is either one or the other. I love it. You're family. You're stuck together, so don't be too shitty to each other. Have a little more patience when your cousin cuts you off in traffic or is very loud and drunk next to you. He/she is your theoretical cousin.

Remind me to start calling people cousin. Or just, ~~cous~~ ~~cuz~~ ~~couscous~~ cous.' Cuzz.

Um.
Yeah, maybe I'll say it more than I'll write it ...cuzz.

Here's my ~~friend~~ cousin Rachel, not wasting her birthday by going down a 50-foot slide.

presents

2008-11-02T20:29:00.000-08:00

Official word handed down from mom:

No Christmas presents this year. I am really relieved. Do you know why? Because two plane tickets and a surprise property tax bill, that's why. I am close to $4,000 worth of relieved.

Growing up, money was always such a concern. I associate presents with guilt. I never feel like I deserve them and I'm terrified that the ones I buy won't be good enough.

Fucking presents, right?
I mean. Generosity.

Looks like it's just me and Brandon (aaaaaand my new brother-in-law, whose name I drew for his side of the family). After living so far away from gift recipients for so long, it's nice to be able to pick up those subtle day-to-day clues and ideas about what someone would really love. Damn I'd love to buy him a new computer.

family and email forwards

2008-10-31T20:03:00.000-07:00

From my [mysterious/estranged/absent] father's first cousin and her family:

Gooood Evening!

and from,

Tom Mary Davis

I like these folks a lot. And I really love getting their goofy html forwards, whenever they come my way. The whole [mysterious/estranged/absent] father thing cuts me off from most of that side of the family.

I don't know what they've heard or what they know, but I generally imagine the worst. Whatever they HAVE heard or know, it's from my dad. So it probably doesn't sound so great for me. I sent wedding announcements to that side of the family - uncles, aunts, cousins I grew up with. No response.

Of course, I haven't seen them in about 15 years, but Mary remains one of the few family members who never pulled me aside to tell me how nasty my mother is after my dad left us.

That goes a long way.

Tom also used to take an actual interest in me when I spent all my time retreating from family and all else in a now-mortifying obsession with L. M. Montgomery books. I remember being amazed that a dad, any dad, would find me worth engaging in conversation. Even further amazed with how utterly lovestruck he was with his own kids. It was a good 16 or 17 years ago, but I remember -perfectly- him standing apart from the rest of the tipsy chatty grownups, holding a very tiny Davis and talking to him with complete earnestness and love, too quiet for anyone else in the world to hear.

I don't know what they've ever heard, Tom and Mary, but God bless them for not judging me, or maybe even just giving me the benefit of the doubt.
And thanks for the email forward.

also.
Tom wrote a few books. Buy them with all your extra moneys.

In death, WWII survivor joins shipmates

2008-10-31T19:01:00.000-07:00

updated 4:26 p.m. CT, Fri., Oct. 31, 2008
(full disclosure: I cut and line-edited the hell out of this story to make it more blog friendly. Full story here.)

YOKOSUKA, Japan - When the submarine USS Ohio surfaced at sea, Machinist Mate 1st Class Jason Witty emerged from the hatch, holding a silver pitcher. The Ohio was afloat in just another indistinguishable expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

Just like the ill-fated USS Indianapolis, 63 years earlier.

The pitcher contained the ashes of Witty's grandfather, Boatswain Mate 2nd Class Eugene Morgan, who had survived the sinking of the Indianapolis — one of the worst tragedies for the U.S. Navy in World War II.

In July 1945, the Indianapolis was making its way back to the Philippines with a crew of 1,196 aboard, including Eugene Morgan, when a Japanese submarine found it and launched six torpedoes.

It took only 12 minutes for the Indianapolis to sink in the deadliest disaster at sea in U.S. naval history.

Morgan jumped off the port side of the ship and slid down into the black sea.

"At some point, he found some food floating on the surface and swam toward it," Witty said. "But on the way, he was attacked by a shark." It swam away before going in for the kill. Many of his shipmates weren't so fortunate. Morgan could hear their screams as they were attacked.

Morgan, a Seattle firefighter after the war, kept the experience to himself for more than four decades. Among his last wishes was the desire to be rejoined with his shipmates at roughly the same spot in the Pacific where the Indianapolis went down.

His burial at sea, on Oct. 2, was simple but somber.

Mrs. Lacy Obama, pt III

2008-10-31T18:27:00.000-07:00

No shit. All word for word from my junk-mail-account inbox.

I posted an update to my dream from the other night (the one where I married Barack Obama then got into a spaceship and googled myself) ...when I got this email:

From: Michelle Obama
Subject: What Barack Needs

Lacy Katherine --

I know this campaign has asked a lot of you.

But in the next 5 days, Barack will need you more than ever before.

(Doubletake!)

Gulp!

Well. No, seriously, that - that's funny. I'm sure that's just a... that was ... well it's FUNDRAISING is what it is, of course, naturally.

But THEN... then tonight there was this:

From: Barack Obama

Subject: Will you join me on Election Night?‏

Lacy Katherine --

I want you to be there with me on Election Night when the results come in.

IT'S...
IT'S JUST FUNDRAISING PEOPLE. It's ... FUNDraising .... BaRACK!
Quit SEXING THIS UP you guys!!!
You gotta - you...
(sigh)
Okay, well - just until Wednesday.
You scamp, you.

politics and family

2008-10-31T16:35:00.001-07:00

A winning combination, every time. (she says, typing with her special Sarcastic Keyboard)
I've thought about making my own version of this t-shirt. Ideas include:

People 5'11 And Taller For Obama

Type O- Blood Donors For Obama

...They're just not quite good enough.
I've also strongly considered

Employees of Benihana for Obama

Okay - if you don't think it's funny, just SAY it a few times. Come ON.

Tiny chance, tiny tiny so I don't get my hopes up tiny chance I may be performing Tuesday night in Grant Park at Obama's Election Night THING I WILL NOT CALL A CELEBRATION. My friend Sarah (who would also perform) and I discussed the myriad ways we would pee on ourselves if this comes to pass. **Update: this will definitely not come to pass.**

I told all this to my mom yesterday, to which she said "huh." And then, "Well, I guess I know who YOU'RE voting for." She used to vote Democratic, which in Texas is just as effective as my 14-year one-woman Wal-Mart boycott, but I can tell those days are over. When Sarah Palin first debuted, my mother gasped, "I love her," and I can't quite bring myself to ask if she still loves her.

professional family

2008-10-30T17:09:00.000-07:00

I'm a member of two of the three existing unions for performers:
Screen Actors Guild and American Federation of Television and Radio Artists.

A photo in the union office of an AFTRA convention in the 70s:

Ha! Look at those idiotic actors! Oh, I love 'em. Just a bunch of dorky dads and uncles, probably all cheesy radio djs and announcers.

I'm thinking of finally joining the third union, Actors Equity. I need to make a decision soon.

DIY family

2008-10-30T16:47:00.000-07:00

One of the things I'm interested in investigating in this blog and in my life is the family you make out of your friends. So many of us city-dwellers are transplants. We don't have the blood relations close by. No one to bring you fried chicken when someone passes, to help you move, to drive you to the doctor, to pick you up from the airport.

I want to be a good friend-family member.
I want to encourage this friend-family business.
Maybe another way I want to right the familial Wrongness I've had most of my life. Do it right this time, now that I'm a grownup.

My friend Lauren is moving to NYC tomorrow morning and said a bloggoodbye to a list of friends. As someone who is super damn sad she's leaving but understands why she's gotta go (cue: I Will Always Love You) (the Dolly version. please.), I am proud to be on this list.

It's nice to know that the other people in your secret imaginary family think you're their secret imaginary family too.

headbangers casting ball

2008-10-30T15:54:00.001-07:00

Every now and then I audition alongside kids. Often casting agencies are running two auditions simultaneously - one for kids, one for whatever type I'm fitting into that day.

Today there was a kid with crazy red hair sitting on one side of the waiting room. His dad was in a chair to my right, his mom was sitting to my left. The light rock station playing quietly from the crappy cd boombox under the table.

It was the usual low-grade tension, late in the day, when Bohemian Rhapsody came on the radio. Halfway through the OH MAMA MIA section I looked up from my sides to realize the mom was silently mouthing the words across the room to her crazy red haired kid, who was mouthing them back to her. I caught the dad right in the middle of the BEELZEBUB, HAS THE DEVIL part, and right on cue with the music transition, all three heads started banging in unison.

ALMOST (!!!) family

2008-10-30T06:46:00.001-07:00

Last night, in a VERY realistic dream, I dreamed that it was November 4, 2008,
and that on that day,
I was marrying:
Yes.

Nope. Completely serious. This was my dream.
I'm not sure why Barack chose election day as our wedding day, but we went ahead and had the ceremony in the morning because, you know, he was busy that night.

I assure you I was absolutely beaming as we exchanged rings. Brandon ... was there somewhere. I think he understood. There was even a little difficulty as I had to remove my engagement ring Brandon gave me to put on my Obama wedding band.

... and then I knew that he needed to do important election day things, and I needed to give him some room, so I got on a spaceship to hang out in space for the day.

While in space, I spent time googling myself as "Barack Obama New Bride Lacy" and being REALLY IRRITATED that none of the press was talking about our wedding.

Top hit for the same search terms in the waking world:

The Bride Wore Very Little - New York Times
Feb 21, 2008 ... ALL DRESSED IN LACE? Not exactly, but vampish bridal gowns make flirty ....Barack Obama for President ...
www.nytimes.com/2008/02/21/fashion/21brides.html - Asian Stocks Drop in Early Trading · Similar pages - Note this

**UPDATE**
In my inbox:

From: Michelle Obama
Subject: What Barack Needs

Lacy Katherine --

I know this campaign has asked a lot of you.

But in the next 5 days, Barack will need you more than ever before.

Gulp!

dads want to help.

2008-10-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, a friend of mine was on hold for a great role with a prestigious theater company. She was really excited, really hopeful, and told her parents all about it.

She didn't get the part. Sucks. Happens.

Her dad, genuinely distressed at the news, wanting desperately to help, asked "well.. should we get you more acting lessons?"

She had just graduated from Northwestern University with a BFA in acting.

work.

2008-10-26T19:10:00.000-07:00

End of two 12-hour days of shooting. Brandon is talking to me off camera and making me smile against my will. Telling me he did the laundry.
If I look anything but exhausted and utterly drained, it's the AIRBRUSHED MAKEUP still clinging to my pores. Goshdamn I hate airbrush.

I wish my family understood my work. I wish I could say "short comedic film" and they would get it, or "SAG indie short" or "well-known director," "festivals," and that they would be excited or impressed.

drink.

2008-10-24T20:23:00.001-07:00

If you read my last blog at all, it will come as no surprise to you that, in the words of Crazy Aunt Purl, I like to hit the sauce. Another trait I share with no one else in my family except my mysterious absent father.

Alcohol and families go together. If it [alcohol] happens [in a family]. If it doesn't happen. If it NEVER happens. When it happens too much or when it really could have stood to happen a lot more.
I know two guys who created a really fantastic show called Drinking and Writing about how the two entities go hand in hand. I think family is equally applicable, and if I had more faith in theater lately, I might actually write a show about it instead of a subsection of a blog.

Well. This is a hell of a lot cheaper, I promise you THAT. What I lack in ambition I make up for in fiscal responsibility.

It should be a given in this blog - like maybe a prior knowledge type thing, but I don't quite know where to say 'BY THE WAY...' that I haven't seen my dad since I was 14, though I talk to his parents [ideally] a few times a month and visit a few times a year. "Isn't that awkward?" you ask.

YES.

EVERY TIME.

It is a relationship greatly eased on all sides by beginning each visit with an offer of a drink.

For every one-to-one family relationship there's surely also another relationship that happens when one, the other, or both have been drinking.

who knows if it's genetic or not

2008-10-24T20:14:00.000-07:00

It happens every year: it gets cold and all I want ~~to eat~~ is to eat bread with a thick crust of butter.

[whimpering]

Not helpful: in searching for an illustratory photo, I discovered that there is such a thing as "bread and butter pudding."

Caucasian (white, non-hispanic)

2008-10-24T13:04:00.001-07:00

There is absolutely no question which race box I check. Cracker. Honky. WASP. Lover of mayonnaise, mac user, pretty much read down the list of Stuff White People Like, combine it with my rural southern upbringing and blindingly pale skin, and you will come to the conclusion that: I am seriously WHITE. I even know the words to every single Judds song. I listen to the the Country Gold Show and NPR. Now, that is WHITE.

Nevertheless, I got a last-minute audition for 4:40 today for a character who was originally written as black, changed to latina, then apparently in a flush of last minute absolute desperation, latina-anything-ethnic.

This led to a really awkward conversation between my [very rushed] agent and me.

Agent: So just bring an exotic flair.

Me: ... seriously?

Agent: Right, I mean, I know you're not latina, just don't go midwestern housewife, you know.

Me: ... okay...

Agent: like big earrings and - i'm just saying... you know, exotic.

Me: ... seriously? (thinking: But I'm SO WHITE. I'm just. SO. white.)

Agent: (exasperated) Work the curly hair sister!

So I washed and heavily gelled my hair. Heavy makeup? Lip gloss? I am making this shit up as I go along. Every piece of southwestern jewelry I own?

Finally I take some pictures to see just how faux latina I look. After taking these pictures I realize that apparently, I just automatically assume that latinas never smile. Check it.
OOOOH! URBAN ATTITUDE!
And I would like to punch myself.

So I smile.
HI GUYS!!!!! Isn't MEXICAN stuff NEAT?? I had a Frida Kahlo poster in my dorm room!

Well, diablos. I mean, worked for West Side Story, right?

Then afterwards I'll swing by my aunt's garage sale.

clean slate

2008-10-23T23:19:00.000-07:00

I'm spending Christmas this year for the first time ever with NOT my family. I mean. My NEW family. Brandon's family. My family. My in-laws.

My in-laws are awesome. They are democrats, they drink, they hike and recycle and do crafts. Here is a picture from the last time I visited my in-laws. We drank cheap wine and rolled homemade sushi.
Seriously. These people rule.

The most wonderful thing and also the biggest departure from my family?

They are kind to each other. They are nice. They are kind.

I can't wait

2008-10-23T21:29:00.000-07:00

A conversation with my grandmother, earlier this year:

Mimi: I tell you kid, if Obama wins, I'm just going to move to Russia.

Me: ... Russia? Not Canada?

Mimi: I'm gonna move to Russia.

Lest you attempt to apply logic, let me just clarify that we aren't Russian. She's from Oklahoma.

I know she's lived through many political races and tasted many defeats and victories, but a part of me couldn't help it.

Me: Well, welcome to the past eight years for me.

poll binge

2008-10-23T21:22:00.000-07:00

I give up.
I succumb.

The next week and a half (week and change?) is just going to be a sordid BENDER of sweet, delicious, crunchy polls.

I will pass out at my computer and wake up in piles of politico graphics. CNN will conduct a poll of polls based on the polls in my poll vomit. I will poop out polls and then poll my poop.

I CAN'T FIGHT IT. I MAY AS WELL EMBRACE IT.

Also fighting but far less likely to binge on: the temptation to ask my 100% republican family so whaddya think of Sarah Palin NOW? SERIOUSLY?

[WOMAN ] Open ethnicity. Cute, likeable, fun, very pretty real women in their early 30's. Average build/weight.

2008-10-22T15:01:00.000-07:00

My family gets really excited whenever they can see me on TV. Since they've given up on understanding what it is, exactly, that I do (assorted random theater), television commercials have turned into the best way that I can talk about my work (and they can actually SEE it) in a way they understand.

Today I was one Cute, likeable, fun, very pretty real women in their early 30's away from a national network commercial that would have plastered my face all over my families' tv sets and plastered thousands of sweet, sweet dollars into my bank account. Apparently I was the 2nd cute[st], likeable, fun. Drag.

This morning when I found out it was just between me and one other Cute, likeable, fun, very pretty real women in their early 30's ... I KNOW not to do this, but I was already mentally planning the celebratory dinner out with Brandon, and calling to howl the good news to my grandmother.

koozie

2008-10-21T20:49:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I was drinking a can of miller lite on my parents' back porch and my mom walked outside, saw what I was doing, and stared at me speechless.
...Well.
"speechless."

Mom: Don't you want a koozie?

Me: (look that means 'what?')

Mom: A koozie! You need a koozie!

Me: No, it's okay. I don't need --

(Mom begins search for a koozie. I watch. About a minute passes.)

Mom: ...There's another koozie out here somewhere.

Me: Mom, I really don't need one. Thank you though. I mean, I never use one at home.

(Mom stops what she's doing and stares at me again)

Mom: You don't have any koozies?

We have koozies now. This one is shaped to look like a football jersey from my high school!

sort of the impetus for the blog

2008-10-21T19:38:00.000-07:00

last night I dreamed my estranged sister was on her way to see my family. No one has seen her in years - over a decade - and she was on her way.

My grandfather, dead several years now, ran up to me as I looked out the window where I was watching for her (outside and inside at the same time). He was exuberant with youth and relief. "Lacy," he panted. His face beamed, although I couldn't tell if that was death or what he was going to tell me. "I think it wasn't something we did, that sent her away. I think it was everything. I think it was the situation. She just couldn't be here anymore." I couldn't talk so I nodded but he was already gone, running around happily in the calf pasture out back. I figured this out recently, but he had died without knowing.

I used that information as an anvil to throw at her last time we spoke.
Well.
Wrote.
Well.
I wrote.
She didn't write back.
and I didn't want her to.

He just seemed so relieved. Later in my dream I told her that I thought I finally understood. Part of me would like to tell her this while awake, but it's been a while since we last spoke.
Well.
Wrote.

holiday travel, pt. 1

2008-10-21T14:33:00.000-07:00

~~loyalty~~ guilt is expensive.
thanks for the useless no-cost flight insurance, Travelocity. You're swell.
Last year I mentioned to my aunt that I might not be spending Christmas in Texas that year. She stared at me for a second, then nodded, looked away, and spent the next 10 minutes trying to hide the fact that she was crying.

I spent that Christmas with them.

This year I'm loosening the ties - not spending Christmas, but visiting for the huge extended family party two weeks out. Great-aunts and uncles and removed cousins I haven't seen in years. I'm looking forward to it.

Welcome to the family.

2008-10-21T10:09:00.000-07:00

Hi.
I'm Lacy and this is my immediate family.

My husband and I are newlyweds. We lived together first, though, so we got all the adjusting over with while we could still break up if we just couldn't take it, but turns out we COULD take it, and so we did what we'd been nervously thinking about doing for 4 years and we got married.

Being married is different from living-together-dating because now our job is to love each other as much as we possibly can, then add to that. Every day. I'm not worried about scaring him off anymore. That excuse is gone. MY JOB IS LOVE. It's freeing and terrifying.

I love being married.

Together we shoulder the staggering financial and emotional burden of raising a cat. It is trying at times, but we struggle through the challenges and are rewarded with joy and consistent litter box usage. When we adopted him from the Chicago City Pound, he was 6 months old with a broken leg and living on kitty death row. Also he was named Shasta. Now he takes naps and chases wadded-up paper.

He is named for the Bowie Knife, Texas independence hero James Bowie, and David Bowie. We adore him with the customary fervor of a childless couple.

So we'll start here and you'll learn about the rest soon enough. I think I'll have plenty to talk about.

A Year of Family

Recent Contacts

I don't call, I don't write

mister

I mean, how can you not love this guy.

Obama: South Side Is "My Kennebunkport'

home cookin

dread and anticipation

questions the night before a weekend in Texas

always relay phone messages.

the obits from the Texarkana Gazette

tao of kind gestures

the post that is the new top google hit for 'stick it out'

absence of poignant post

now, that was nice.

an experiment in saying maybe the best thing I could have said? Extra question mark?

I'll tell you this so you can keep reminding me of it.

owning up

famous families

houses apartments condos dorms and believe it or not, one castle

gloat

cripes I am defensive.

happy housewife

How to tell if a gift is handmade or not.

gift reaction

delights

It just keeps coming.

I just keep thinking about this.

test your empathy.

Nebraska fears rush to drop off kids before haven law change

lots of families

family values

Recurring nightmares.

name. pt 1.

doing a bad job

my pie dish.

family brawls

Monks brawl at Christian holy site in Jerusalem

Israeli police cuff men next to Jesus' tomb in Church of the Holy Sepulcher

phone calls

my mother in law, the cat lady

garage sale

presents

genetics, politics

democracy hangover

just try to tell me there's no connection between theater and politics

gah, don't worry, it'll be over soon

family get togethers

I Will Not Waste This Day

presents

family and email forwards

In death, WWII survivor joins shipmates

Mrs. Lacy Obama, pt III

politics and family

professional family

DIY family

headbangers casting ball

ALMOST (!!!) family

The Bride Wore Very Little - New York Times

dads want to help.

work.

drink.

who knows if it's genetic or not

Caucasian (white, non-hispanic)

clean slate

I can't wait

poll binge

[WOMAN ] Open ethnicity. Cute, likeable, fun, very pretty real women in their early 30's. Average build/weight.

koozie

sort of the impetus for the blog

holiday travel, pt. 1

Welcome to the family.