entertaining infinity

whirlwind (update)

The Fam got together for brunch at Suz's house a few days before Xmas (we have some who celebrate that holly-day, some who don't).  I've always admired families who gathered for events and wound up hanging out all day; with my family - there's usually a set arrival time, we visit for a couple of hours, help whoever hosted with the clean up, and then head home. Three, four hours, max.  But this day was touched by magic: we all arrived around 11:30ish, and the party didn't break up until about 6:30.  Beaners played hide and seek with whoever they could rally for the challenge, there was a dart game downstairs, conversations blended and morphed, great music played, and gifts were presented to the young ones.  At some point in the afternoon, the community fire department drove around town with Santa on a big old truck, and when we heard them nearby, a bunch of us went to the end of the driveway to meet them; Santa handed out candy canes to the Beaners while the rest of us delighted in their delight.  A sweet day.

Old high school buds converged on Joisey to visit their folks for holly-daze, and I reaped the benefits.  Much visiting and fun.  MB is in the US from Germany visiting family in ze Princeton area and will be taking a week down in Austin to put some finishing touches on album #2.  (and fyi - her first release [an EP of 5 songs] is now available on iTunes! or [since will requested this ...] you can also listen to many of them on her myspace page ...)  (but i digress) ... Marty was in from Miami, and Ami was in from central PA.  Marty and I dropped in on Ami and her folks on Xmas day, and a handful of us managed to coordinate schedules the next day to meet up at Karen's house (she now teaches junior high english for the same school district we went to).  Laura (who also lives in the princeton area) had an erotic novel (porn for girls) published some years ago (we all bust her chops that the main character of clarissa is a college professor who does not like orange juice, traits she has in common with ms. laura herself ...); Marty gave a brilliant dramatic reading from the book, which had Laura begging him to stop, and the rest of us in stitches.  Nothin' like old friends.

And on a similiar theme ... I had a surprise visitor this past weekend.  For years Daf and I have said that it would be great if we lived closer cause we miss having the chance to just hang out (he lives near DC).  The other day we caught up on the phone and I filled him in about my plans to connect with The Kid over the weekend (he came up for some new years festivities w/college buddies). With no big weekend plans himself, suddenly Daf's saying: Well, if I get on the road in an hour, I could be in Jersey by 6, and a plan was hatched. 

I know many people scratch their heads at our continued friendship, and many have asked why we don't just back together if we get on so well, but while the story of our marriage had a beginning, middle and end, the story of our friendship is still going.  I understand why it's odd to many people; I'm not so naive to think that everyone can (or wants to) stay friends with people they were married to (or in committed relationships with) - or that it's that easy to do, even if that's the intention - but I feel lucky we've done it. 

Hanging with the boys (and the kid's adorable girlfriend) in NY was such a treat.  We didn't do anything special ... no shows, no museums.  We just wandered the Village ... grabbed a hot drink, wandered a few stores, people-watched.  It would have been fine to meet up with The Kid and girlfriend myself, but there's something so easy and natural about the way Daf, The Kid and I spend time together (and those times are increasingly rare).  It was a lovely day.  We are a family-ish still, in our own bizarre way. 

Going to be hanging with Bean, Mrs. Bean and Beaners for dinner tonight, and then home for my somewhat usual relaxing, simmering and writing version of celebrating New Years Eve ... I'm not a big fan of the partying version ... I'm more a reflective sort (go figure).  I'll probably be in bed by 11 too ... I'm such a wild woman. 

Happy New Year ...

just another long weekend

We peeps of the Jewish persuasion no longer have to count on only Adam Sandler's Chanukah Song to make our joyful noise of the season.  Come all ye faithful members of the Tribe, sing along: you know you've done this on December 25th.

thank-full 07

Without the commercial or religious overtones that the other winter holidays have, Thanksgiving is the celebration of the season for me.  I get to cook and bake, have a few days away from the office, hang out with family and friends and use that time to consider and appreciate all of the good things in my life and in the world. 

Some of those ... in no particular order:

The Fam.  The Beaners. (the twin beaners celebrated their 5th bday this past week ... ohmygod, the days just fly by.)

My friends, near/far.  And friends who are family.

Good music/my iPod.  (and these cool things that i'm looking into buying so i can transfer old cassettes and albums to said iPod.) (cause seriously, where else are you going to get the defranco family singing heartbeat it's a lovebeat?  not on iTunes ... bummah)

Tissues (i have a wicked, bad cold ... daaamn).

Work that challenges me, uses many of my gifts, keeps me in a mix of very cool people, and is keeping me flush.

Dunkin Donuts coffee.

How going green seems to have reached a tipping point. (which is making it easier to keep improving in that arena myself ...)

A warm and comfy home.  (an emphasis on warm too: it's bloody cold out there; i can hear the wind whipping outside the windows and i'm toasty, thank god.)

This wonderful contraption that is on its way to me even as we speak. (i said i wasn't going to live through another winter without one ...)

Writing. 

My writing groups (and the women who have hung in there and been patient with me, still wanting what i offer, even as i have hosted so few sessions this year).   

Other people's writing (i've been reading like a wild-woman lately; a huge variety of stuff. LOVED this.  only part-way through, but digging this one at the moment).

Listerine's cinnamon breath strips.

Time outside. (i get so much less of it in the winter cause i don't tolerate the cold well, but yesterday was scary global-warming-sorta-warm [in the 60's] and i got to sit out on the back deck for my coffee and morning writing; yum.) 

My digital camera.  (and the pictures i get when i use it: exhibit a: beaners, above; exhibit b: a tree, below.)

Old Calvin and Hobbes cartoons that are still wonderful after the skillionth read.

Barack Obama.  (i really believe this guy is trying to change the political conversation and i fucking LOVE THAT.)

Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap.  (the soap itself, as well as the wonderful rants on the label: all-one! all-one or none! do not drink soap! dilute! dilute! OK?)

The alarm clock that wakes me up to the sounds of the sea.

Growth, even when it's hard.  (as i've been known to say: oh goody, another fucking growth opportunity.) (or perhaps, as the christian writer catherine marshall put it a bit more poetically than i: often god shuts a door in our face, and then subsequently opens the door though which we need to go.)

Soft clothes. (aka - schlub clothes: my fluffy yoga pants and the you-wouldn't-catch-me-in-public-in-it sweatshirt that i've had for nearly 20 years but is the coziest thing i own ...) (and yes, i'm wearing that outfit now, and thank god you can't see me ...)

My plants.  (life all over the house)

Tissues (yeah, i know i said it already, but this cold really, really sucks).

My computer.  The internet.  Google.  (how did i survive? how did i connect and find stuff i need and keep up with friends all over the place before these fast double clicks?)

Making recipes that have been passed down.  Since my mom died (damn, it still sucks to write that.  i wonder if it ever won't ...) ... since she died, every Thanksgiving I make her famous creamed spinach.  It's not hard to make, and I don't know that there was anything hugely unique about the way she made it, but it was hers.  I even remember writing it (and it's still on the same scrap of paper in my recipe file) leaning against the counter in her kitchen as she stood washing dishes, dictating.  (so glad i have so many of my mom's recipes ...)

This poem.  This one too.  And this one. (i've reading a lot more poetry these days; always looking for luscious recommendations; send 'em on if you have favorites ...)

This view outside my home office window. (speaking of poetry)

And finally, I'm thankful for this little corner of the cyber universe, where I write whatever I feel like whenever I feel like it ... and to you folks who come by to visit/read/make up my community.  As C.S. Lewis said: We read to know we are not alone.  That's a big part of the reason why I write too.  Thanks for keeping me company.

Thank-full.

someone else's b-day; i get a prezzie

In honor of Scott-a-leh's upcoming Big 5-oh b-day, a handful us got together and went on a dinner cruise around Manhattan on Sunday night.

I think we all expected a bit of cheese and low-brow camp, but what we got?  Well, if you're ever looking for the perfect romantic evening, a fabulous meal and some top-notch entertainment on a winter night, this, my friends, would not be it. (cheese?  think cheeze-whiz baby)  With a buffet much like the ones you'll find at a conference in a hotel, tables close together with too-bright lighting, and entertainment that seemed to take its cue from Bill Murray's Nick-the-Lounge-Singer act on SNL ... oh no, they don't call it The Spirit of New Jersey for nothing.  (ok, ok, so i'm over-exaggerating and playing into all the worst stereotypes of my state when i say that, but allow yourself to simmer with the general concept and you'll get the picture).   

Then again, if you don't care about the food or the atmo at the table, or the distractions of (alleged) entertainment, and you just want to hang with some friends and have a laugh, this could be your thing.  And I would venture to guess that this is what motivates many to come on board.  I imagine there are plenty people like our group out there - which is probably how these guys stay in biz (i almost said "afloat" but resisted).  (then again, maybe i didn't.)

I hung with the crowd for about an hour in the dining room before the pull of the outdoors became irresistible. With the lights and the sights of Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens and Joisey floating by, I just couldn't stay inside ... fab company or not.  Anti-social perhaps, but maybe that's the bonus of being the only single among a crowd of couples ... it was easy to slip away and not be missed.

Huddled with my back against the captain's cabin in a plastic chair I snagged, I managed to stay pretty well protected from the breezes.  But even so, I had come prepared.  I wore a dress - it was a festive occasion, after all - but I also wore boots with heavy socks, and a long boiled wool coat that used to belong to my mother - a toasty thing that I fondly refer to as "the rug."  I'd also packed a bag stuffed with sweatpants, a big wrap-around schmata, a scarf, hat and gloves; there was no way I was going to be spending an evening on a boat cruising around NY harbor and sitting inside; there would've had to be an ice storm going on to keep me off that deck.

When the boat got close to the Statue of Liberty, loads of people - families, groups of friends, couples - all came running up from the dining room to get a good look and snap some photos - many of them shrieking about the cold and wind as they did.  (short skirts, high heels and flimsy coats on the deck of a boat on the hudson river in november is going to be cold girls, i'm thinking to myself as the parade of drunken 20-somethings giggled their way to the railing, posed and ran back downstairs) I just waited them out ... stayed in my little chair, assured that I'd get the place to myself again once Ms. Liberty was further out of sight.

There's something so compelling about being alone in a space made so big by water and sky.  (perhaps it brings me back to the days of working on the cruise ships, but i loved being on the water - boats of any kind - long before that.  my time on the cruise ships may have cemented the love affair though, cause now even the scent of diesel fumes whipping up over the back of the boat smell sweet to me.) But whether I'm sitting on a beach, by a river or lake, on a boat or a ship, night or day, it calms and restores me.  I suppose I'm not unique; I know a lot of people say that about the water ... but I go all out - packing sweatpants to wear under a dress on a cold November night - so I can get my fix. 

As the days get colder and shorter and I try to combat my natural tendency to go inward and hibernate (eventually leading to the dreaded winter bum-out) (particularly now as i'm doing so damn much navel gazing anyway) perhaps a boat ride from time to time is something I should plan.  (and i don't have to go cheeze-whiz ... the staten island ferry is free ... hm.)

So, a happy 50th to Scott-a-leh ... and thanks for the party favor.

the show goes on

All you need is love, love - so what if I'm naive?

This story makes me SO happy. 

When an Episcopal Bishop in Central Florida put pressure on an independent prep school in his dioceses (that had historical ties to the episcopal church, but no active affiliation) to shut down a production of La Cage aux Folles (a play that centers around the lives of a gay couple and their drag nightclub), it looked like it was (forgive the pun but i can't help myself) 'curtains' for the show.

"That any high school would sponsor this particular production ... certainly seems an unusual decision for a Christian preparatory school," he was quoted in the Orlando Sentinel.

But, uh ... didn't the guy who inspired all those Christian religions say that we should love ALL people?  ALL people.  All right, I know: I'm naive.  But daaamn, that's what I thought Jesus' teachings were supposed to be about ... and it's that very same thing La Cage is about: love. 

Well, love, acceptance and tolerance ... and fabulous spangles and men in drag, set to wonderful music.

But really, who cares how it's packaged?  It gets me so riled when I hear about people who PREACH love and tolerance but don't LIVE it.  (grrrrr)

Interesting too, to read about this today: six years since those planes sliced through the towers and everything started spinning out of whack.  All in the name of religion.  And being right.  And making other people wrong.  And pride.  And intolerance.  (oy, don't get me started ...) (oops, too late ...)

(me? i'm a very tolerant person; i just can't tolerate intolerant people ... )

But hey, we have a happy ending to this story: The Church of Theater (living their values of tolerance, acceptance and entertainment for all), came to the rescue.  Even though the school had caved in to the Bishop and cancelled the performances, at least 15 theater companies and/or performing arts centers in Central Florida offered to host this high school production, and they wound up putting it on at the Orlando Repertory Theater this past weekend to standing-room-only audiences. 

That's one for the good guys.  Bravo.

~  ~   ~   ~  ~   ~

This song - the closer from Act I of La Cage - is a nice finale for today.  (it gives me goosebumps almost every time I hear it ... it's not the best video, but it's the song that matters, so it'll do ...) ( ... or you might remember gloria gaynor's fab disco version ...)

And (naive or whatevah) ... if I haven't said it a skillion times already ...

thoughts on the blog-versary

The other day I realized that I've been blogging for 2 years ... man, time sure does fly.

When I started, I didn't have much of an intention for the whole thing.  Maria had been blogging for a while and she thought that "blog-as multi-media art form"/"self-expression work-out" would be a natural for me, and once I started looking around on the blogosphere (amazingly, i hadn't really been aware of it before ...), and saw what other people were doing, I knew she was right. 

I figured it would be a fun exercise/written "performance"/soap box ... but I expected it'd be pretty anonymous.  I didn't tell many people I was doing it at first, just a handful of good buds, and while I knew it was the internet and therefore hugely public, I felt I was talking in a loud room to some close friends, and I didn't really expect to be heard by anybody who wasn't close. 

Then Maria put a link to my blog on hers when I "went live," and several total strangers came by to visit.  It was a hoot to get comments from people I'd never met saying they liked what I wrote or they got a kick out of my style and/or perspective.  I quickly forgot about my expected anonymity and let my ego swim around in the delightful encouragement and attention.  (big fish ... teeny, tiny little pond.)

Once the initial rush of visitors and comments mellowed, I was still having a complete blast; the ability to write whatever I felt like and get that instant gratification from "publishing" the whatever-it-was-I-felt-like ... inserting links to cool websites (attempting to turn the world on to my own interest in whacked out grooveness, obscure clips from old television shows and other fun links)?  Too much fun.  And in between playing with the form and referencing pop culture trivia, I'd often weave in thoughts about deepiosity in varying degrees, whinge about stuff that gets me incensed (mostly W), and share bits of personal stuff here and there (can't help myself, it's in my nate-cha).

In these two years I've really come to love the dialogue that evolves from reader feedback/comments on and off-line; the comments and conversations have been the most delightful, unexpected by-product of the whole experiment.  It's not so much about feeling like I'm so marvelous and my writing is so fabulous (although i never turn down a bit of worship ...) ... it's more that I've found one more way to connect with people and "connection addict" that I am, I love that. 

And still, there have been times when I'd write something personal/vulnerable, or goofy/warped/'out-there' and I'd hesitate and second guess myself about posting it. What's kinda strange is that I'll often post things on here that have never come up with people I talk to all the time, so I wonder why am I willing to be revealing about my schtuff in a way that's so public?  And in the face of possible humiliation and/or embarrassment too?  Perfect example: a while back I had a post that I actually took down a day or two after publishing it (and left it 'down' for over two weeks) because I felt strange putting such 'woo woo' stuff out there.  Eventually I re-published it because I was annoyed by my own wimpiness; I re-posted in spite of the feeling ... or maybe in defiance of it.  Besides, most of the time, I convince myself that my readership consists of about 10 -12 regulars and a handful of "occassional's," so my feelings of "vulnerability" are simply the result of ego gone wild. 

Then, pretty recently - over a period of a month or so - I learned that a couple of people who I knew (but not really well) had discovered my blog and had been reading.  Then, soon after that, a friend explained how I could look on my blog management page and see how often my stuff had been viewed.  Once I figured out how to do it I saw numbers that were higher than I would have expected to see.  (nothing dramatic - most days average i average about 11 hits. but that means that among the days where no one visits, there are also a few where there are 20 and 30 hits; i figured the most i'd see was 10 - 12.  wild.) (but i digress)

All this info wigged me out a little. Good god, what have I written?  Who else is reading that I don't know about?  Is there anything I should have been less overt about?  Are there any old posts that'll come back to haunt me?  What sort of self-indulgent drivel have I been tossing out for the world to see?

So during my recent unplanned hiatus I gave some thought to taking a more conscious break from the blog, but in the end, there are too many things I enjoy about the practice - the dialogue that springs up with folks who read; the chance to exercise the writing/creativity muscle in a way that's so different from my personal writing practice or the longer term writing stuff I do; learning more about what matters to me, and what I do with all that ... (like e.m. forster once mused: "how can i know what i think till i see what i say?") - and so I'll keep playing.

So happy blog-versary to me ... and to you (whoever you are) for reading, and keeping me company on the ride. 

the company you keep

I've been pretty busy/preoccupied lately and didn't have a whole lot of energy for blogging.  As the pace eases up, I find myself fighting a bit of inertia; it's been hard to rally to the habit of public writing again.

But The Force works in mysterious ways and today the inertia spell was broken when I learned something ...

Can you guess what Tori Spelling and I have in common?  (and no, it's not bodacious boobs.)  (besides, mine are real.)

I'll give you a hint: it's the same thing that I have in common with John Waters. 

(did'ja figure it out?)

Well, if you said that it's because we are all gay icons - while that would be an extremely good guess - you would be incorrect.  (i know i'm not a gay 'icon' per se ... but dahling, in my own world, i'm bette midler ...)  (but i digress)

What do I have in common w/Ms. Spelling? (drum roll please ...)

Like like John Waters, me (and my mate wes), Tori has joined the order.  (uh, that's the reverend tori spelling to you ...) (told'ja everyone was going to want to do it ...)

Ain't life grand?

God bless us, everyone.

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. 

my fellow rev

Now that the word's out in The New Yorker that John Waters is a Universal Life Church Rev, everyone's going to want to join the order, just for the absolute hipster-ness of it all.

Since my "coming out," I've learned of a few others who are ULC ministers - and am loving the company I'm in; hearing that John Waters (aka "the pope of trash") is part of the "order" is just icing on the cake.  Love that he charges $7 for his services.  Cash.  Exact change. 

It takes every kind of people to make the world go 'round.  Love that.