webcowgirl | Entries tagged with family

Me to Dad: I'm lonely, would you please come visit?
Dad to me: I am busy trying to make something of my retirement years of which AYE can feel proud.

I really don't know what to say to this. It was my grandma holding us together all that time, I think.

My last day in New York went pretty fast. I went by my brother-in-law's for brunch: he of course didn't hear his bell ring & left me on the doorstep panicking. I then went to the restaurant thinking he'd be there. He wasn't, but they let me use their phone, and I called him (waking him up I think) and he came over. Breakfast was good (pancakes & bacon); afterwards I went to his apartment to BS for a while & pick up the crap I'd had shipped there. The 2 new pairs of boots & shoes looked great (I'm wearing the shoes now); Sierra Trading Post rocks! On the other hand, Skirt Sports screwed up and sent me a plain red shirt instead of one with dragons on it. Fail.

Bizarrely, BIL's parting to me was, "Safe flight and have a nice life." It was kind of grim and dispiriting. Thanks, Jeff, no need for me to ever see you again either if that's how you want things to be.

Then it was back to

koaloha's to deposit my ill-gotten gains (let's not forget the bagels!) and then head to Leia's. She was done with hanging with her mom for the now and came across the street to sit in the cool outdoor bar and drink vodka lemonade with me in the obscenely pleasant Indian Summer sunshine while little plates of food came by our picnic table. It was really a great visit: highlight - she asked me, "How are you really doing?" No one really seems to ask me that ever, probably because they don't want to hear the answer; given the freedom to speak, I seriously unloaded. Hell, she and I might not see each other for another two years: you have to build the bonds when you have the opportunity. I left feeling much better than I did earlier. It was nice. It's good to have friends that you know are out there for you even if they can't be in the same place as you.

Then it was back to K's with a slight detour (AHEM) through Target to see if I could find an appropriate T-shirt for

robotmel (grey with bats or black with silver cobwebs?-your choice) and a box of Count Chocula for

shadowdaddy. Then I repacked and reweighed my suitcases, just skidding below the 50 pound max for Big Red, and headed to the airport via the Long Island Railroad and Air Train.

After that everything went like clockwork, including a lovely 5 hour snooze on the plane and an otherwise unremarkable flight and arrival. When I landed, I got my first text about the reorg from my wingman; my second came an hour later, as I headed from Hammersmith underground on the Picadilly: there were no job losses in my team, not one. In retrospect, as I came back to the kicked pile of ants that is Il Postino this week, I discovered 23% losses across the board and some job groups in which 50 people are going for 35 jobs. I've felt embarassed about going around talking up my team to various groups over the last year, like it's the kind of work that only a useless tick would do; but now I feel like I must have done something right, because all my little chickens are safe in the henhouse, every single one. It's a huge relief.

I should write more about the week since I've been back, but it's really been so busy I haven't (and don't) have time, but I can say this: Pilates twice, ballet once (Birmingham Royal Ballet's Romeo and Juliet), dinner with (kinda mentally messed up) team last night, dinner for

dr_d tonight. I'm also showing a potential short-term tenant the house tonight and hoping he'll say yes. Meanwhile I'm backlogged on reviews: I wrote up The Scottsboro Boys (new Kander and Ebb!) while I was on the plane, but I still haven't got around to Time Stands Still. Someday, someday.

I'm in Munich now at a hotel near the Ostbanhof. I'm visiting my uncle. He's going to meet me in 15 minutes & we're going to do something - possibly visit the Villa Von Stuck & the new art museum. We're going to see some singer tonight. It's nice to see him but he's stressed out about a lot of stuff. I guess that goes for the both of us, hmmm?

I got some weird assed email from my dad two weeks ago asking me if, among other things, I'd given up on him. It also asked me if I would assign my life insurance policy to my husband. I told him no and didn't bother answering the other question.

Today he sent an email that seems to refer indirectly to either the death or incapacity of one of my relatives and a fire at his house. He didn't say, "I thought I should tell you that XXX happened," he tells me some story about how he put some blowers in to blow the smell of smoke out of his house. And the letter opens asking me for mine and J's ss #s, despite the fact I told him no.

Really, to me it just seems like he's trying to drop big hints and get me to pay attention to him, but part of the problem (aside from the fact that he's so often horrible to me, and the rest of the time he just forgets I exist) is that he won't bother keeping in touch or telling me what is going on. I don't want the abuse and I don't want to play games. I just want to live my life like a normal person. He doesn't seem to be interested in ever having any kind of positive relationship with me, so I've decided that the best thing to do is pretty much just forget he exists. This keeps me from feeling disappointed or hurt or otherwise bothered by his treatment of me; instead, I can just get on with living my life and basically act like I have no living parents. One day I won't but it will basically be just the same as it is now, because he will never change and there's no point in me holding out hope any more. He's got his own thing going on, he has pretty much since before I was born (I think that's part of the reason my mom left him), and I'm mostly not a factor at all. Long ago I tried to get closer to him, probably for a good 10-15 years (after he got divorced - he'd said that his wife was why he spent so little time with me), but then I finally realized that not only was it not going to happen, but that the time I did spend with him was likely to be roundly unpleasant. To be clear, this is "having someone yell at you at the top of his lungs in public" unpleasant. I'm really not up for that.

Yes, I did give up on him, years and years ago. What's the point, really? He decided I was hard hearted years ago, so I'm sure it's not a surprise.

Sad is having someone you see as family make fun of you ... to other people. And not in the nice/ pulling your leg/teasing kind of way. In the mean way.

Sometimes I think I need to extend my chosen family by at least one, because there are days when I wish I had the calming feeling of knowing, "Yes, there are people who would welcome me into their household any day, no questions asked, and would be delighted that I was there for meals." It hasn't been like that for me since the day my grandma died (though technically it hasn't been like that since she moved into the nursing home, but I bet if I'd shown up with the car and said, "Hop in, lady, I'm bustin' you outta here!" she would have gone for it). But in some ways I've never really felt like that, at least not since my mom kicked me out, but she made it clear to me long before the day after I turned 18 (and got the boot) that she was looking to move me on because I was getting in between her and her boyfriend.

Anyway. A little more about me and what makes me my own special trainwreck. I've often felt like people who knew they had that place to go, those people to welcome them are a little bit mentally better off than I am.

I realized last night that my relationship with

shadowdaddy has gone on as long as my relationship with my mom did - eighteen years.

I guess that kind of time really does make you family regardless of blood, doesn't it? And it has all of the emotions and baggage that come with being with another person for that long.

Lots of food for thought there.

Current Location: Tango Foxtrot

Yesterday we were awakened at 7 AM by the arrival of my brother in law and his girlfriend. YAWN. And then we slept until 10, at which point we started stirring ourselves in anticipation of brunch. Brunch was deelish Mexican food at El Maguey Y la Tuna, but the real point in going was to see Michael S., a friend of J's from the Phoenix days (also a friend of mine) and meet his husband and their 2 year old daughter (Vivi, who wanted to hold my hand when we left the restaurant and flirted outrageously with me during the meal). It was fun to see them both (er, well, all three of them). Oddly, they may wind up moving to Seattle, depending on where Husband gets his medical residency. And the food was fantastic.

Afterwards it was off to the Noguchi museum in Queens. I have really come to love Noguchi in the last five or six years - the Black Hole Sun in front of the Asian art museum is his. And this had a broad collection of his stone carvings, many of which had features I really associate with him - a sort of respect for and fascination with the rock itself. Basalt isn't just a material to create sculpture - it's interesting on its own, and somehow his sculptures, especially from the 80s, make you see the rock better (as well as having interesting shapes). It was a big hike to the museum from the subway stop but the trip was well worth it - I doubt I'll ever see so much of his monumental work in the same place again. I left asking myself, now, why can't I have one of these in MY back yard?

Then it was back to Brooklyn and the official meeting of the sister outlaw and late family Christmas present opening. Afterwards we went to a Korean bar for Korean chicken wings and drinks, then across the street to Chorus for a late night Karaoke bash. And by late I mean we went until 2 AM. Apparently the bartender likes my brother in law and sister outlaw, as he gave them free shots of Johnny Walker Blue and also gifted our table with several free drinking snacks, including a wonderful plate of fresh fruit. We ordered four or five of these jugs of Korean hootch (shoju? shochu?) as well as beers (for the boys) and sang and sang. There were a fair bit of other people there but it was a really nice atmosphere - people jumped in on other folks songs and helped them out or just participated because they liked the song in question. I think we got eight people up there for "Bohemian Rhapsody," among them Tom, who later tried to give me his number. Dear dear, I think we _all_ had just a bit to drink. We were in bed around 2:30 and we all decided that we would just not plan to do much today.

I actually got up at around 11 (I had been dreaming about

dreamsewing, who was in England and wanted me to go to brunch in Cambridge with her), and broke down and ate some of the turkey from Christmas dinner at around noon. Now J and I are getting ready to have some tea (it's about 1:30) and with luck we might be having some brunch soon. J's holding on to his DS Lite (his Christmas present from me) like it's his lifeline to reality, and I am waffling between reading a silly Charlaine Harris mystery (Shakespeare's Christmas, my present to me) and writing up the Nutcracker ballet. Ooh, and drinking tea. I should really do that now.

Note: my mother in law got me a (in my mind) ridiculously expensive Christmas present (necklace and earrings). I'm not talking to her or having anything to do with her now (and basically hoping to never see her for the rest of my life). Do I thank her or do I let J do it or do I mail it back? What can I do to politely discourage such largesse?

Oops. We apparently forgot to leave my sister keys to the apartment.

And she didn't realize that the door to the building locks behind you.

This was nearly a very bad day for her. It's a good thing she got up as late as she did and called me before the Great Tragedy happened.

In other news, Orange "customer service," which consists in "please look up stuff on the internet" and "please press a million buttons before a real person will talk to you" have just bothered me for the last time. Come December 6 I will have a new phone contract.

Tonight we're off to see La Clique, which I think looks as much fun as the Miss Behave's Naughty Nightie of August. And since it's opening night, I'll get to scoop the print media!

And tomorrow ... Italy! (And I just found the menu for the Da Cesari restaurant, where the three of us will be eating Wednesday night ... ah!)

Well, we've moved into our new space at the office, one floor up and to the right. This, technically, is a room with a view, though at eye level what I've got is a view of a dripping vent and the edge of a wall with a crane peeping over it. Directly over my computer is the corner of the building across the way; it kind of looks like a Di Chirico painting if you're romantic about this sort of stuff.

That said, a floor to ceiling blast of natural light like this is just the cure for the dog days of ... well, most of the year, and I'm grateful to have access to the light.

Just a little imagination and I can see that what I have is a view of clouds and sky. That's really pretty nice.

Oh yes, I have my "real" phone back, as you can see by the fact I've made a picture post for the first time in a month. The buttons aren't quite in the same place and the font is wrong and I miss all of my old pictures and everything. Text me your phone numbers, please! (Or text me your names so I can add them with your phone numbers attached.)

Maureen Dowd's column today is a hoot ("It does not occur to Parisians that Americans will choose the old, white-haired one if they can have the cool, skinny one with the Ray-Bans, John le Carré novels, chic wife and secret cigarettes."); but my real attention was drawn to the recap of the Tony awards. It's no surprise that Autumn: Osage County got such accolades, but I was shocked that Mike Rylance, the guy that played the lead in Boeing Boeing (the show I saw with

scarlettina when she visited) won the best actor award over Patrick Stewart, whose Macbeth was truly brilliant.

My new spot means that everyone in the entire building can see what I've got on my screen, which isn't so hot, but if it's the price I pay for sunshine, I'm willing to accept it. (Frankly this seems a bit like blatant favoritism, though I have no idea what I've done to deserve it.) What I wish, really, is that I could _get the build I need_ and get to work. Instead, I think I'll do a little more unpacking. I'm also backlogged with theater reviews that need to be written - odd how keeping up the other blog has really become a passion for me.

I've got no shows planned now for three weeks - it's a relief! Having my uncle here did kind of wear me out, but what I'm wishing now is that he'd be here for a few more days - I had so much fun playing cards with him and he really is just my favoritist relative, my last and best tie to Gramma, the one who can tell me the stories behind all of the silly bits and bobs I have in my house that came from hers. And he really liked my food, even if serving him lambchops and pestoed fresh gnocchi (which he'd never had before!) was kind of setting the odds in my favor. *sigh* Oh well, December will be here soon enough.

We've spent the evening playing Pinochle and drinking grappa and limoncello and it's been a lot of fun.

Brief Encounter was ace. I'll write more about it in a bit. The grappa seems to be kicking in and we're chatting about stuff and I'm a bit too busy to write much.

Well, today was a pretty good day, with a bit of a lie in to start - the week did take it out of us. We went to catch up with my uncle at around 11 AM outside of the National, where he'd gone to get some ten quid tickets for The Year of Magical Thinking. We strolled down the south bank, winding up at the Borough Market with a good appetite. We poked in the cathedral for a bit, then caught up with

wechsler, who'd limped over from Putney to join us. Lunch was from a variety of stands and yummy.

Afterwards Bert went off to see his play and J and I went home for a chill out (read: nap time for me), then headed back around 5. We killed time until the show playing cards in the Royal Festival Hall, then went to the National at around 6:30 and had some food (sammies I'd picked up at the market earlier).

rosamicula found us at about 7:15 and we headed into the show, which was, verily, full of blood and utterly OTT. I guess they'd maybe thought there wasn't quite enough blood as they added piles and piles of sex to, I don't know, sex it up (do they think modern audiences won't sit through a play that old unless they do?). It was a bit like adding a cup of salt to something you're cooking under the belief that salt always makes things taste better. At any rate, we all found it entertaining (though possibly everyone's reasons were different) and, if nothing else, it still wasn't Fram (even though an actor slipped on the still slick blood spot after the interval).

Ah ... last show tomorrow - Brief Encounter at the Royal Haymarket. If anyone else wants to come with us, feel free - we'll be getting tickets from the half price booth and there will doubtlessly be plenty available.

Man, don't I have any friends in London that like to play regular old card games? Tonight was fun and I want to play cards more.

I'm an auntie again! Just got word that Babybot version 2.0 was released at 10:45 CDT!!!

Congratulations to

wordknitter and

irrationalrobot!

"I put a box in the mail for you this very day...I was the one photographed weeping as I left the post office. No, I was not weeping because my little, bitty, girl grew up to be an intelligent beautiful woman (hell, why whould I weep about that??!!) I was weeping at the cost of Pirority Overseas mail for 7' 14". I put a value of $45.87 on the customs' declaration. If you have to pay import duties on THAT too, lemme know. Poppa

"P. S. You and

shadowdaddy are equally as smart as anyone else I can think of; What are good songs about fathers? There are scores of songs about mothers, mom, momma, grandmom, ma, etc. But short of Holly Dunn's "Daddy's Hands", Skip Ewing's incredible "Dad", Eddie Fishers ancient, but venerable, "Oh My Papa", Gene Autry's "That Silver-Haired Daddy of Mine", and Judy Collins' "Song of My Father", the only other ones I could think of was "Hot Rod Lincoln", and the Kingston Trio's "Reverend Mr. Black" only because they mention Dad in both of them. ANy suggestions would be welcome. I am to pooped to think right."

My response: "Cats in the Cradle."

7:40 AM and the sun has been up for 40 minutes now. I've been awake for rather most of it due to needing to be to a 9 AM meeting on time, but I've actually had 8 hours of sleep so it's not a problem. God, getting enough sleep really makes the week go differently. I was a bit ragged the day after Coram Boy and on Monday but it's been the sleep of the dead most of the week.

Last night the physiotherapist had me doing a new stretch in which I lay on my stomach, he folded by heel up to my butt, then had me press against him with the heel just a bit further back. I could feel an insane burn in my quads, but when I stood up I did a squat and it didn't hurt at all. Wow. I can do these on my side or standing, too, and he's also assigned me an exercise to help develop the muscles that lift the arches of my feet, but I can't believe how effective this has been and how much my knee has improved in such a short time.

When I came home,

wechsler was hanging out on the couch and

shadowdaddy had made the most amazing meatballs and spaghetti sauce (the sauce had two pork chops in it) from recipes in the New York Times. Damn! We feasted like kings and afterwards were basically too lazy to do much else. It was a very nice night, with the usual happy vibe

wechsler brings to the household, and a very nice evening overall. In fact, I don't even mind that I had to get up early, because I'm in a good mood (even despite having a dream in which I ran into

irrationalrobot in a mall with his mom and she stuck gum in my hair).

I would like to summarize my day by saying that having my sister come visit was a good plan, insofar as my goal was to cheer myself up.

I coughed a lot during the ballet.

The Arvo Part music was insanely beautiful.

And maybe I'll do a write up, but mostly I think it's time to go to bed.

Everything was looking good about half an hour ago. I was home with the birthday cake in tow (check!) and had realized that the pouring rain meant cleaning the branches out of the yard was no longer necessary (check!). Then I listened to the messages on the answering machine, and there was a note from my husband's dad, saying, "Happy Birthday! I'm on my way up north from Seattle, and I just thought I'd check and see if you were in before I head on to Vancouver."

I couldn't believe it. He was in town on my birthday but he couldn't bother to actually stop in to say hello. He'd known he was going for days, probably weeks, but couldn't spend a Saturday in Seattle, even the afternoon. So I called him up and gave him a piece of my mind, for about half an hour. What a fucking jerk. I don't know where a nice guy like

shadowdaddy possibly could be related to him.

Anyway, I need to cool down now. We've got guests coming over in about an hour and I have to crank something out for Tablet about this exhibit that's up at the Bluebottle Art Gallery through the end of this month, and the story is due this afternoon.

Current Mood: angry
Current Music: "Happy Birthday" - Altered Images