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Friday, December 6 much ta do about nada
So it snowed yesterday and aside from the fact that I had an LA induced flu, chock full of fever and snotty nose, it actually was all quite beautiful. I lit the fire, (quite a big deal if you know moi and my fear of pulling a Richard Pryor) pulled out a book one of my editors recommended to me and watched the Duraflame log do its thing while the gorgeous white blanket outside grew thicker and thicker. The cats were thrilled to have me home sick or not. Actually my being sick is extra wonderful for them because I lie down a lot, thus allowing them the opportunity to sit on me and leave little specks of cat litter on my t-shirt. So the fire was going, the book was good, the cats were purring, the snow was falling, Peter Gabriel was being all weird and brilliant on the CD player and for this one moment everything seemed sad, and lonely and content and full all at the same time. Not sure how that happened or why, but I just decided to sit with it and let it be. I’m not the kind of person who takes to sitting with my thoughts and letting things be. I tend to keep moving…A LOT. There’s always been a part of me, that thinks if I sit still long enough I’ll become my mother. The first hour I’m just a rock&roll couch potato, but after that I will quickly morph into my 270-pound Yiddisha mama…rest her dear soul. But my point is, oh what the hell was my point…yeah, yeah, my point is I was being in the moment. I took some time to dissect the fact that I had actually gotten on a plane and flew to LA to visit my family and for the first time since I was a teenager spent Chanukah and Thanksgiving with my dad and brother. Yeah, yeah, there was guilt, (why don’t we see you more often?) and lots of strange Sephardim pals of my sister-in-law asking me things like “why aren't you married? when will you have kids? why do you dress in leather..?” but over-all it was all good and a few moments were great. Granted I’m still digesting…(I’m talking 4 entrée’s and 3 kinds of starch per meal), but I left LA feeling different than I have about the holidays for the last oh 2 decades. I’ve always felt like an orphan who made my own family from what I found (or picked up) along my travels. As a matter of fact, for years I was famous for my orphan holiday meals. All walks of life and a few crawls were welcome. I was comfortable in my role as lone mama. I knew there was a family out there, but this strange clan consisting of GI Joe dad, ultra Orthodox brother and sister-on-the-verge-of-a-nervous-breakdown, had nada to do with moi. But now, well now I’m thinking heck…how long do we all really have so why not do the family thing while we can. Anyway, this was what you might call a long and meandering rant about nothing, kinda like Seinfeld…. with breasts. So take what you will and eat the rest. I’m gonna throw another fake log in the fire. And vacuum my t-shirts yet again.
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