entertaining infinity

on the road again ...

The boxes are starting to pile up - even though I've barely begun and there's still a way to go until things are completely dismantled - but things ARE being dismantled. 

Yep, I'm at it again; Willie Nelson's got nothing on me: I'm on the road again.

When I moved to COTU, I knew it was a temporary thing.  Once TGFKAS and I decided to split in March of '06, I wanted to get out of the place we'd shared as soon as possible (not that things were miserable, but once you've decided to split, why stick around longer than you have to?) and LMD offered to have me come stay in her home for a while as I sorted things out. 

We'd been friends for years, but there's a big difference between being friends (no matter how dear) and sharing space with them - particularly at our ages; I figured it would be a month - maybe two - while I looked for my own place without the big time pressure.  But within no time (really, it couldn't have been more than two weeks after i'd moved in) LMD was saying: You're not leaving; you're never leaving. 

We got on so well it was almost magic.  We hung out together and gave each other space.  During the summer, we'd come home to COTU after work, throw some dinner together, light candles and sit out on the back deck talking and laughing until someone yawned and we remembered that there was work again the next day.  A consultant friend of ours from Connecticut came to stay with us a couple of times/month when he was working on a project nearby and on those nights we'd stay up even later.  On the weekends we'd often have a friend or two over and suddenly it would be a party.  Even when LMD started seeing someone late in the summer, he slipped into the rhythm of COTU seamlessly.  The winter came and there were fires in the fireplace, long weekend days cooking and hanging at home.  Sometimes she and I would be busy with work and life and a stretch would go by where we'd barely see each other.  But then we'd get a night together and catch up and get that wonderful girlfriend perspective on whatever was going on in each other's life.

At various times we've both said we couldn't imagine how it could have turned out better.  We were both going through some personal and professional changes during this time, and living together - sharing support, perspective and laughs - was invaluable as we weaved our way through it all.

And we had no conflicts.  None.  Really.  We DID joke about the differences in our decorating styles: she decorates (and these are her words, not mine) in "Old Italian Grandma," and even though most of my stuff is in storage, my corner of the house (and the additions that i've brought to the main part of the home) look like (in her words again) "IKEA/Pottery Barn/plants and candles."  But decorating styles aside, we made an incredibly comfortable home together.   

And still, we knew it couldn't be permanent; COTU was her home, and eventually I'd want more of my own space, but the situation was so wonderful and we got on so well that neither of us was in a hurry to change it.  We fantasized about having me buy the home next to hers (COTU's a duplex) and breaking the wall down between the dining rooms, expanding the deck and having the best of both worlds.  Barring that possibility, we were going to enjoy our grown-up's "college dorm" for as long as we could. 

Then, recently, a friend tossed out the idea of having me live in his soon-to-be-vacated house (he was moving) for a year while he waited out the sluggish NJ housing market.  My first reaction was to say no.  His house is lovely, and it was tempting, but I just couldn't imagine why I'd want to do that.  Hadn't I moved enough in the last 5 years?  Why would I move, only to move again once the house was sold next year? (even if it didn't sell right away ...)  Besides, the organization I work for is going to be relocating early next year; I figured I'd stay with LMD at COTU until then, and then I'd draw my little 'acceptable driving radius' on a map and start looking for my own place.  Nah ... I was going to stay put. 

But then a little voice started rising in me saying: You can't turn this down; you've got to do it.  And while I could easily argue for both sides of the "do it"/"don't do it" debate, I just couldn't bring myself to pack and move again ... even if it was a great house and a sweet deal and it would help a friend and I would get all that luscious personal space - nope, things were great w/LMD.  I was staying put.

But damn that little voice, it keep tapping at my brain.  I tried to ignore it, but I knew what it was capable of - it had gotten me to move once before.  And a bigger distance than this. 

I'd been living in the Bay Area about 3 1/2 years when it started ... this little voice (ok, so not really a 'voice,' more like an intuition ...) nudging me ... making me look east and suggesting I might want to move back to NJ.  The thought made no sense, so I ignored it.  I loved my life in California; I had a great job, great friends, a side business that was growing, weather I LOVED ... why would I want to move?  No way I was going back to New Jersey.

But the nudging wouldn't go away.  I kept ignoring it, but it kept coming back and coming back, and eventually it didn't even feel like a choice anymore - it felt like an internal directive.  Call me batty (and some do), but I began to think that something bigger was calling and I had to listen.  And act.  It pissed me off in the biggest way, but still I did it. 

Sold a lot of my stuff, left my job, my friends, my life, the growing biz, my beloved beach, the greatest massage therapist and Thai food ever, and drove back across the country again.  Every now and then, as more and more miles came between me and the Bay Area, I'd think: What the hell am I doing?

Then, just a little more than a year after I'd settled back in NJ, my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer; she died 10 months after that.  During those 10 months, I lived within easy driving distance from her; not a 5 1/2 hour plane ride away.  Thanks little voice.

But when the recent You should do this stuff started bubbling up around my friend's house, I tried to look the other way again.  Move?  Uh uh.  Not doing it.  Just did it a year ago.  And I'd only been living with TGFKAS for a year and a half before that; it doesn't make any sense.  (you should do it - the space is going to be good for you)  Shut up shut up shut up I've moved enough in the last 5 years; I'm staying here until the office relocates.  (you should do it) I'm not moving this spring and again next spring.  I'm staying put.  (you really should do it) 

I'd put my figurative fingers in my psychic ears: Nahnahnahnah; I'm not listening; I'm not listening!  (come on deb ... you NEED to do this ...) 

(damn, damn, DAMN!) 

And so (whad'ya know), I'm moving.  It seems the universe has another plan for me (again).  (damn it)

Having said all that, it's not like I'm doing this out of duress; my friend's house is beautiful and charming and warm; it's positively lovely.  It also gets me WAY closer to the Beaners (10 minutes away), and 15 miles closer to my job; it's a walk to the NYC train ... it's got TONS going for it.  It also has space - something I haven't had to myself for quite a while - and I'm looking forward to reacquainting myself with all the stuff I've been keeping in storage and decorating in my "IKEA/Pottery Barn/plants and candles" way once again.  (and yes, i really DO decorate like that ...)

But I hate pulling up stakes again ... unsettling what's settled.  And I'm going to miss LMD like crazy.  Ever since I made the decision, we've been bracing ourselves, and in the mornings when we get our coffee and move into our days I know we're both trying not to think about what it's going to be like when we don't have that anymore ... it's going to be hard for me to say good-bye to our happy little home here at the Center of the Universe.  Yes, we'll still see each other and yes, we'll still hang out; but it won't be the same.

The other day she told me: You could change your mind; you could still stay.  But I can't; this feels bigger than logic somehow.  I think it has something to do with the something that's coming that I talked about a while back and I feel like I just have to go along for the ride.  LMD tells me she admires the way I listen to my intuition and don't shy away from the opportunities and challenges it often leads me to, and I know it's one of my strengths.  I just wish it didn't involve pulling up stakes and relocating as often as it has in the last decade.  Sometime I wonder if I'll ever get to settle down again.  I hope so; I know I'd like to.  I just know it's not today.  Not yet. 

On the road again.

weekend, no plans

How does this happen?  The weekend comes and I have no specific plans.  Nothing last night and nothing tonight or tomorrow night ... just big blank space on my calendar today and tomorrow.

I love it.

So often the weekend comes and I've booked dinner with friends on Friday evening right after work and I get home late and then have someplace I need to be Saturday and it's another day of going here/going there and then Sunday rolls around and there are errands to do and Beaners to see and then suddenly it's 8pm and I still haven't done laundry.  Well, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration ... my weekends are usually a mix of SOME social stuff and SOME down-time, but every now and then, finding myself with no obligations - with the opportunity to spend an evening on the couch watching a DVD and sleeping late and puttering around in my robe on a Saturday morning - is an incredibly restorative thing.

Now, I will go see Beaners tomorrow morning (have not seen them in a while - we've had vacations back-to-back: i was enjoying my "adult camp" experience last week, and they left for disney world the day i got back and they're returning this afternoon ...), but other than that, I'm free to let these two days take me where they will.  Feels particularly good now, since I'm gearing up for a big change (more on that in another post when i'm feeling a bit more motivated to get the story down ...).

So here it is, almost 1:30 pm on a Saturday and I'm still in my robe sipping coffee (i'm such a wild woman!).  Might go for a walk now ... maybe run a few errands.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll have another cup of coffee before I decide.  What fun, what fun.

white wedding

When Scottaleh first asked me if I'd officiate his wedding to B he said they'd decided to do an intimate "destination wedding" with immediate family and just a few close friends in the Caribbean for six days.  Would I be game?  I didn't even have to think about it ... I immediately said yes. 

But minutes after I hung up the phone I thought: what the hell did I just agree to?  Besides Scottaleh and his lovely fiance B, I knew none of these people.  Six days and five nights at a resort with total strangers?  What was I going to do in some foreign country with people I didn't know for that long?  Was I nuts? 

Perhaps.  But always game for a little adventure (and figuring that the worst that could happen was that i wouldn't quite love the company and would wind up sitting by the beach by myself reading books for five days ...), I booked my ticket and was all in. 

And yesterday, after six days and five nights in the Caribbean, as all of the "wedding party" stood around the baggage claim area at Newark airport waiting to grab our bags and scatter back to our respective homes and lives, I felt almost as I used to feel when I was a kid leaving summer camp ... all sentimental about the experience and almost weepy with: I don't wanna go home ... can't this go on a little longer?  All that delicious and concentrated bonding, wonderful laughs, discoveries, intimacies and fun adventures with a delightful group of people who I didn't even know a short while before ... twas a fabulous adventure; the perfect adult "camp" experience.  Only with a beach.  And drinks with pineapples in them.

And the wedding?  The wedding was just lovely.  I'd grumbled and cursed about Scottaleh and B's request that we all wear white for the wedding as I shopped in the week(s) prior to the big event (cause all white?  come on ... that's a tough look for anyone, but a blond, blue eyed, busty and still-working-to-take-off-some-excess-poundage kinda gal like moi-self? oy.), but I must concede that the whole set up looked positively luscious.  And beyond how it looked, it felt luscious too; the love and sentiments swirling around Scottaleh and B (and radiating from them) during their ceremony - from their family and kids, to a handful of their close friends (i, in my first go as officiant, being one in the handful) - had me starting to believe that it really might be possible to long with a full heart, take risks, shine yourself true and bright (and be willing to let it all crash and burn) in order to find a sweet co-conspirator with whom you'll create a joyful life.  (a good thing to be reminded of since i've been feeling a little bruised and ambivalent about the whole love/partnership thing for a while.)

On top of all that?  I also had me some fantabulous commune-with-the-ocean time (i need my commune-with-ocean time) and I've got a pretty nice little sun-glow to show for it too.  Which, by the way, looks almost fetching with that white wedding shirt.

it seems like years since its been clear

Spring is finally starting to assert itself in New Jersey.  It's not being hugely convincing - there's a chill in the air most mornings and again at night, and today a cold front moved in ... winter's last gasp.  But with crocuses out, and daffodils popping up, I feel like one those flowers and buds, bursting forth and leaning into the sun after a long, cold, lonely winter.

This winter wasn't all that bad, actually - we had several power storms last year, but aside from two snow/sleet/ice storms, this winter was pretty calm.  It's all relative to me though ... winter just generally kicks my ass; anything under 50 degrees feels cold and the lack of light makes me wilt. (and don't tell me about beautiful, clear blue winter skies, cause those days are usually bitingly cold, and while they might be lovely to look at, it's too frikkin' cold to want to go outside ...) 

I expect I've got that SAD thing - Seasonal Affective Disorder (aka: bummed by lack of sun).  It's not that I fall into the depths of depression, but I definitely go low ... it slows me down, I feel less energetic, less motivated, less focused (and with the ADD head, these things can spell double trouble), and invariably, I also gain weight (which never helps with the slow and sluggy feeling).  But for some reason, since I don't shut down entirely, I often convince myself I'm getting through OK ... and every year when spring comes, a veil gets lifted - like Dorothy emerging from sepia toned Kansas into colorful Oz - and I wonder how I made it through.

I'm a little embarrassed about how the winter impacts me, and have to remind myself that it's nothing to be ashamed of ... it doesn't indicate a weakness of character ... still, sometimes I think that if I were stronger or smarter, I would be able to avoid it. 

The winter-kicks-my-ass thing was part of what I loved about living in Australia, and one of the primary reasons I moved to Berkeley.  Neither place experienced the sort of winters I grew up with; winter never got much worse than a rainy October day in New Jersey (40-ish degrees - farenheit) ... and when it DID, it never lasted long and could easily be followed by a stretch of mid-60's (or fluke 70's) days.  Sydney got warmer than Berkeley did in the summers but they both had incredibly temperate climates - no big extremes of heat/humidity or hell-cold - and I frikkin' LOVED IT.  (well good god cooperman, if you loved it so much, why'd you move back?)

I returned to Joisey because of my family.  (damn them!)  My folks were here, and Suz and Bean had reproduced (or began reproducing soon after i left) the coolest little people and I wanted to have relationships with them all.  Eventually I realized that I would never be able to convince my (damn) family to relocate to the Bay Area just to make me happy (the nerve of them!), and that if relationships were really going to happen, I had to come back.  (how could they BE so selfish?)

It's been five years now (hard to believe it's been that long), and even though the winter sucks, I know it was worth it.  This past weekend I got to go see Dancer/Skater/Cutie play the lead in her community theater production of Peter Pan - (baseball boy was also in it; he had a small role as one of hook's pirate crew, and suz and her husband do volunteer backstage duty ...).  The whole gang came out to see the show: Dad, Bean, wife-of-Bean and all three Beaners; Suz's in-laws were there too, and friends and neighbors.  (i wouldn't be surprised if 1/5 of the audience was there for D/S/C).  We came to see the show, but mostly, I think, we came to celebrate D/S/C and her amazing recovery, determination and passion.  (she was wonderful, and i don't think that's just because i'm biased.  she's quite talented - and she LOVES performing - so it's a joy to watch her.)  It was a wonderful day. 

So, would I rather live in climates like Sydney and Berkeley?  You better believe it.  But since it doesn't look like the family is going to move en masse to warmer climes, I've gotta find a way to deal with the winter ass-kicking.  Being able to share in big family moments like this one definitely helps.  Taking trips to warmer climates and fires in the fireplace help too.  But maybe it's time to invest in something from these guys?  Might not hurt.  But for now, it looks like I've gotten through another one ... sun, sun, sun, here it comes. 

making a case for purple ...

Dancer/Skater/Cutie posted a recent exhibition skate to YouTube the other day.  (baseball boy is the camera-man, by the way; not too shabby!)  Since I get folks asking about how she's doing since the accident from time to time, I thought you might get a kick out of it.  She choreographed it to Start Wearing Purple by this wild punky-ish band called Gogol Bordello that makes me want to rock out whenever I hear it (and yes, it's on the iPod).  Clearly, it makes D/S/C wanna rock out too.  (the rink had a problem with the sound at the beginning, so if you want to hear the tune full out, look/listen here.)

It also reminds me of that poem called Warning ("when i am an old woman I shall wear purple") ... how it stakes a claim for more playing outside the lines and embracing life without restraint.  Given what D/S/C went through, and how there's never a guarantee anyway, maybe, as the song says: we should just start wearing purple now. 

reverential (i'm coming out ...)

A couple of years ago my friend Wes was asked by some good friends of his if he'd become a minister so he could perform their wedding.  The couple had learned of a church in California where anybody could get ordained just by signing up on-line and they thought their ceremony would be more intimate and special if someone they cared about did the honors, instead of some stranger who, by the power vested in them, could make it official.

And what an inspired choice they made too, cause Wes was a natural.  In his day job, he's an arts administrator, but he brings the 'inner rev' to everything he does, so it was not a huge surprise to hear that he got asked to officiate another wedding soon after.  I can't remember exactly what the connection was, but I think a member of the bridal party or a friend of the family had just become engaged and they liked what he did with the ceremony and blahblahblah, "Do you think you could do mine too?" and the next thing you know the word began to spread about Rev Wes.  It's been few years now and he's performed at least a half a dozen weddings (if not more - he officiated the nupt's of former theater colleague/bud/blogger mickeyG's in january ...).  He loves doing it, and the folks he does it for seem to love it too. 

Now, I've been hearing about Wes's adventures in Rev-ing for a few years now, and from the very first time he told me about it, I wanted to do it too.  But I didn't, and I didn't tell anybody either; I was embarrassed by the desire.  Not sure why exactly, cause it wasn't like it was a big honkin' deal, anyone could do it; you didn't need to study or 'qualify' in any way at all, all you needed was an internet connection and an email address.

My friend Hugh did it this past summer in order to facilitate a friend's daughter's wedding (and while he enjoyed the experience, i have a feeling that this one ceremony may wind up being the beginning and end of his "ministry").  I've also started seeing on-line non-denominational ministers show up in (of all places) The New York Times wedding announcements.  (yes, admit it; i read the nytimes wedding announcements.  not all the time, and never all of them.  but if i've got a stretch of time on a lazy sunday i will; so fascinating to get a snapshot into this big moment in people's lives.)

Lately when I peek in on these announcements, I've noticed a trend.  In between the Rabbis, Fathers, Reverends, Clerks and Judges, there are a lot more mentions of people becoming non-denominational ministers for the purpose of this one particular wedding. ("jayne slatkin/joe smith/chip rippington III, a friend of the couple's, became a non-denominational minster to officiate the wedding ...")

So clearly lots of other people were doing it.  Why then oh why couldn't I?

Not sure actually. Time went by (as it does) and I'd hear about Wes having lunch with another new couple to discuss plans for their ceremony, and I'd get all envious.  Eventually I started coming out to a couple of friends about my interest, and while I got nothing but positive feedback (even from my two friends who are presbyterian ministers), I'd still do nothing but simmer with the idea in a back-burner sort of way. 

Slowly, the reason behind my reluctance started to dawn on me: no one had asked me to get ordained to facilitate a specific wedding - as it seemed everyone else I knew of (or read about in the nytimes) had done - I simply wanted to; I thought it would be fun and an honor, and I thought I'd be good at it.  That's it.  My interest felt secret and decadent, and at the same time it felt almost like an intuition ... like it was something I was supposed to do, and that felt just a little silly, self indulgent, and - pardon the unavoidable pun - sacrilegious. 

Luckily, it finally dawned on me that maybe it was OK for me to do it because I didn't take it lightly; I treated it with reverence ... and at the same time, the irreverent in me fuckin' LOVES the fact that anybody can do it.  All you have to do is sign up online, I mean, come on ... that's a hoot!  I love that you could just click here and do it as a laugh because you CAN.  I love the egalitarian nature of it ... (is this how those elvis impersonators got legal so they could marry people i wonder ...?); I love that someone like Hugh can get ordained to officiate his friend's daughter's wedding - and will probably never do it again; or like Wes, you do it in order to officiate one friend's wedding and discover that you've fallen into a side business that feels more like a side "calling."  Or maybe, like me, you do it because you think it would be fun and an honor even though there's no one lining up to have you facilitate their wedding ... yet.  (if you get ordained, they will come ...)

So, on the 6th of November of oh-6, I took the plunge "just because."  I went to the site, clicked a couple of times, typed in my name and my email address, and clicked 'send.' (and then had a little candle lighting ritual, of course ...)

The next day I got the email:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is to confirm that

DEBORAH COOPERMAN
has been ordained as a minister of the
Universal Life Church, Modesto, California.

Date of Ordination: 11/7/2006

by Kevin Andrews, Pastor
www.ulc.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Your request for ordination has been processed, and you are now an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church in Modesto, California! Please record the above date of ordination for your records, as you may need this information in the future to fill out the various forms of the clergy.

Now, I won't be calling myself a minister - even though that's what they call it - largely because it rankles the nice Jewish girl in me, but also because it just doesn't seem like the right name for what I'd like to do with it.  I'd like to find another word, but at the moment the only thing that comes to mind is "celebrant" and that sounds a little too airy-fairy even for me.  But whatever it's called, I'm really glad there's a place (in my beloved and progressive former home of california) where it's possible for anyone (ME!) to legally sign/file the papers required to make relationships "official" in the eyes of the government.  Being with people in the highs and lows of their lives is one of my favorite things ever, and I hope I'm going to get lots of opportunities to help mark those times. 

Amazingly (but maybe not), there's one more bit to this story: about a month after I made it official on-line, my friend Shel and his newly affianced B asked me if I'd be willing to do the honors for their wedding in April.  :)  We had our first chat about what they want to do and I already have two poems picked out that I think would be really good for their ceremony.  And ever since they asked, Shel has been addressing emails to me as "Rev Deb" ... it cracks me up.  (and i like it too in a warped but honored sorta way!)  A side-business and calling for me too perhaps?  (i have a feeling ...) (what fun, what fun!)

white space

~ I took the above photos last summer at the beach on the same day ... it was a happenin' day for weddings!

white space

~ And semi-related to all this: today NJ officially became the 3rd state in the US to offer civil unions to gay couples (a step in the right direction, if not the whole magillia, i say) ... many reasons to celebrate.

white space

random musings once again ...

~ When I watched Barak Obama give the Keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention in '04, I sat on my couch inspired and energized, and said out-loud: "This guy's going to be President one day."

And now we're one step closer.  And I, for one, am all in. I've heard plenty of comments from a wide variety of sources on why he can't win and why the country isn't ready for him, but I shall continue using The Force to make it so: This guy's going to be President one day.  Obama in '08. 

~ I thought I'd lost my phone today.  Well, I did lose it - for about 20 minutes.  Turns out it had fallen out of my pocket in the car and when I retraced my steps I found it on the driver's seat floor.  But for those twenty minutes?  Complete panic. For this connect-a-holic, there is nothing more frightening than being without a means for connection.  I no longer have a land-line, so without my cell? ... oh, horrors ... I don't even want to think about it.

Is there a 12-step program for this?  CPA?  (cell phone-aholics anonymous?)

But no problem, no problem at all, I could quit any time I want to.

~ I had one of my writing groups in my home yesterday; it had been a long time since I'd had one.  I'd lost momentum after TGFKAS and I split up and I moved in w/LMD; the first few months after the split, I took an intentional break - I just needed some time to chill out and re-group personally - and then when the new job started, it got harder and harder to overcome the built up inertia.  And even though I still write for the blog with semi-regularity, and in my own journal daily, there's something so empowering about writing (and listening to other's writing) in a supportive and safe space. 

And yesterday I was reminded (again) why I do the groups.  It's not because I'm trying to build a business (which is what i used to think when i was booking several groups/month and they were one of the 'cornerstones' of the biz), now I do it because it's joyful and delicious to spill out on the page and discover things you didn't know you thought until you let your mind and your pen wander.  It's amazing to see what giving permission to just BE does to women who are not sure they can write.  To be able to give/get encouragement - not just for writing, but for the way you express yourself - is a huge gift.  It's eye opening to see how unique each person's writing can be, and it's my honor and delight to create the space for others (and myself) to do that. 

Now that it's no longer about building my business, but about doing something I love and want to keep doing cause I love it, there's this new level of non-attachment to recruiting lots of people to come.  (and yet, lots of people did ...)  And by the time everyone had left the house (many stayed just to talk and drink more coffee and nosh on bagels after we stopped writing), I was all warm and syrupy-high on the good vibe.  And it's still hanging on ... yum. 

Won't be having a session next month (i've got a busy, busy couple of weeks in march due to some work-related commitments), but will have one again in April.  Can't hardly wait.

good stuff - randomly tossed

~ Many have followed the saga of Dancer/Skater/Cutie's accident this past summer ... if so, you'll enjoy her triumphant return to the ice in this YouTube video from an exhibition she did last weekend.  Many who were watching that day knew what a big deal this was (she had quite a 'fan club' in attendance) - the announcer even went beyong the usual: "next up is such and such who is skating to blahblahblah" - instead, he welcomed her "back to the rink," which is so sweet.  You can hear an indrawn breath when she does a jump at the beginning (she's not doing many; suz says the docs have advised that she go easy with them for a while).  And the look on her face as she finishes, and then as she starts to skate off the ice?  Hard for me to watch it all without getting choked up.  After spending months in a wheelchair and encountering set back after set back, complication on complication, she's skating again ... it's a happy, happy thing to see.  (and knowing how easily it could have gone another way, it's a double blessing.)

~ My friend MB (who i wrote about a little over a year ago), has released her first CD.  She proves that it's never too late to take a stab at following a dream.  And the title track speaks to the longing to get beyond the fears that might keep you from taking a leap towards your hearts desire (and trust me, it's not simple or sappy).  Each song on the debut is thoughtful, folky rock that would make a nice addition to your iPod shuffle ... (go buy it!).  :)

Waiting to Fly is the name of the CD, but MB waits no longer; she is flyin'.  (way to go girlene!) 

~ A nice reminder that I'm not the only one who is challenged by the idea of infinity.  I recently watched the warped and brilliant This is Spinal Tap again. When asked by a journalist if the farewell tour was really going to be the end of the band, Michael McKean's character says:  I don't really think that the end can be assessed as of itself as being the end.  Because what does the end feel like?  It's like saying - when you try to extrapolate the end of the universe - you say: if the universe is indeed infinite, then how - what does that mean? How far is all the way, and then if it stops, what's stopping it, and what's behind what's stopping it? So, what's the end, you know - is my question to you.

My question exactly. 

~ Enjoying another year with the new view of Channukah. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.

white space

(hm; maybe this post is not so "randomly tossed" after all ... miracles, dreams, and the infinite go pretty well together ... )  (yum)

the cast

I realize that I often refer to people in my blog, but usually only explain who they are when I first write about them ... and since I use nicknames (for people who are not 'out' in the blogosphere), I thought it might help to list the cast of characters.  (i'll update and add to this post as needed and refer back ... )

So, in alphabetical order:

Baseball Boy
Suz's son. 18. Eats, sleeps, breathes baseball.

Bean
My younger brother. AKA "bro." Father of The Beaners.

Beaners
Children of Bean. 11 year old girl and 8 year old twins - a boy and girl. I adore these kids.

COTU
Center of the Universe.  The place I used to live with LMD.  (aka: "the college dorm,"  "kate and allie-ville.")

Daf
Dear friend who also happens to be my ex-husband. Father of The Kid.

Dancer/Skater/Cutie
Suz's daughter. 21 years old. Also known as D/S/C.  The girl will dance on Broadway one day ... 

LMD
Dear friend-who-is-really-family/former roomie. Fab-wah Diva who is not a diva.  (her delightful boyfriend is danielicious)

Maria
Friend, fellow blogger, jewelry artisan, writing group participant.  (she's the one who encouraged me to start le blog ...)

Scottaleh
Bub-a-leh of a bud who is a lawyer by day and a passionate promoter of a folky/alternative concert series on his own time.  And (god bless him) he asked me to facilitate his wedding to the lovely B.  My first as an official officiant. (formerly known as 'sheldon,' he refers to himself as scottaleh in comments, so scottaleh it is ...)

Sherm
Cousin & dear friend. We worked on cruise ships together when we were 18 and shared many adventures before and since.  We used to live 10 minutes from each other in CA.  She moved from there six months before I did - she's currently in St. Louis w/her brood. 

Suz
Sister. She's one year older. If I can't remember a 60's TV theme song, she can. She liked Davy, I was into Mickey.

The Fam
My family.  Mi familia. 

TGFKAS
The Guy Formerly Known as Schweetie. (aka ex-boyfriend)  (and he really was formerly known here in the blog as 'schweetie' ...)

The Kid
My stepson. (son of daf) No longer married to his dad, but - as he once said - just cause Clinton's not the President anymore doesn't mean we stop calling him President Clinton ... and so, of course I'm still his stepmother.  (love that!)  He's 23 (or is it 24?), a recent college graduate ... about to enter the Marines (don't ask; oy), and while he doesn't call and he doesn't write (see? i really am a jewish mother ...), I still can look at him and see the baby face underneath it all.

Uncle Debbie
Me.  When D/S/C was just starting to talk, she didn't understand the difference between aunts and uncles, and wound up calling me Uncle Debbie.  It seemed like the perfect name right from the start, so we never corrected her.  Now I'm Uncle Debbie to the "next generation" of nieces/nephews (the beaners), as well as all of D/S/C friends, their parents, Sherm's kids ... and god knows how many others.  (just about the only way to call me "debbie" and get away with it is to say "uncle" right before ...)

Wes
Dear friend, fellow user of The Force, great bud.

Writer Babes
The women of my writing group. There are many regulars, a handful of semi-regulars ... all of them brave, creative babes who come to my home to pour themselves out on the page once a month.