her name was alice

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And she has been gone for seven years, although I have only known for about six. That doesn't change things. Nor does the fact that I am not entirely sure exactly when she died.

When the death of my sister was first reported to me over the phone by my Aunt, she believed it to be the 13th of March. I was in LA, literally waiting for people to arrive for lunch as I heard the news, and the year ago part. But then when I was being a bit morbid recently and discovered this website that has listings of people's birth dates, death dates, and social security numbers, I looked up my sister (grandparents, great-grandmother, aunt, and mother). There it said my sister died on the 3rd of March. But it also said my mother was two years younger than she was, so this could be a typo too. I got the impression this site's main focus was geneology. It could generate a letter you could send (along with a fee of about $40), to receive a copy of the original paperwork filed to obtain a social security card for the deceased.

As I said though, it really doesn't matter if it was the 3rd or the 13th or some other day in March in 2003. The fact remains she died, and is gone. I will never see her again. Never talk to her again. Never touch her again. It is still hard to believe.

My sister and I had a turbulent relationship, at best. We never had a true relationship as adults. The last time I saw her, she was 16. We would have some contact when our grandmother died a couple of years later, but nothing again until we were in our late 20's. Then she contacted me on the Internet pretending to be a 17-year old adopted girl from Maine.

I suspected right away it was her. B told me I was paranoid. Thankfully he was sitting next to me when several weeks later she would reveal her true identity on AOL Instant Message on President's Day. The words came across the box, "what if I said I was your sister?"

I moved away from my laptop, slightly terrified to touch the keys. I sat and watched as words scrolled down the screen. They revealed things only the two of us would know. The secrets of sisters.

She really wanted me to call her, and was upset that I wouldn't. In all honesty though she wasn't looking to have a relationship with me, but rather our mother. She thought that she could go through me to get to her. She had no idea what was going on. She couldn't believe that our mother was about to hit bottom, and there wasn't anything either of us could do to stop it. Of course she blamed me for not doing more.

When she got my Mom's contact information she pretty much dropped me like a hot potato. It really was okay. I could tell she hadn't changed. She was still blaming everyone else for her problems. She was living with a man almost as old as our father, and did see how it was a way of rebelling against our mother. I got to talk with him for a little bit over IM. He was an interesting character. He became known as 'bagel boy'.

The last I had heard about my sister when she was alive was a call I got from that same Aunt. I was literally days from moving from Austin, Texas back to the bay area, having no clue how things were going to work out. Surrounded by boxes, I listened as my Aunt explained my sister has Gillian Barr. Apparently my sister had been in contact with my Aunt for a little while. She wanted an Alice in Wonderland doll. My Aunt sent it, but then got suspicious when she asked for another. My sister told my Aunt not to tell me she was sick and living in a nursing home, but then changed her mind when she learned that it was hereditary.

So there I was listening to this, looking around at my life literally packed up around me, thinking that I might get really sick, and probably soon. My Aunt wasn't sure what else to say. Honestly, neither was I. I mean do I thank her for this information?

Of course as soon as I got off the phone I went and consulted Dr. Google. I found a few message boards, and read well into the morning hours. Nothing that I could find said anything about Gillian Barr being hereditary. They didn't know much about this disease, but it was pretty clear that you didn't get it in your genes.

What does happen with this disease is that it paralyzes your body. I realized my sister's psychology had become her physiology. She was paralyzed from moving forward with her life, and was now literally unable to move her body. It was sink or swim time. It was all in her hands.

From what I read, many people recovered from Gillian Barr. Some had a complete recovery, while others had mobility issues of varying degrees which lasted for months to years. I couldn't bring myself to call her. I mean, what do you say to someone who is so manipulative? Also, I was about to take a giant leap of faith, and really couldn't handle any more. Of course I had no idea that within six months she would be gone. Forever.

Please don't misunderstand. I loved my sister. I just couldn't deal with the lies and craziness. She was always changing her story. She would tell me things like she never had epilepsy and that our mother didn't take care of her medical needs. This was insane. I was there on multiple times when my sister had her seizures. And also have memories of my mother trying to figure out what was wrong. There were all kinds of books on our shelves, not to mention many appointments with specialists. Our Mom didn't want to believe my sister had epilepsy. But when the doctor sent her for the EEG, there was no refuting it.

Still it is hard. It isn't helping that Alice mania is upon us with the release of the new Tim Burton film. It is hard not to think of her. I don't regret not having that final conversation. I am sure it would have ended with her hanging up on me after she told me to go F myself.

I always left the door open. I always had hope that she would turn her life around. I believed she was capable of taking responsibility for what happened, and could move forward. I never gave up hope, but now it is gone.



on the night stand :: Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin

about today

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A quick list about today:

• I did not drive all over LA and Orange County today to pick up my photos.


• I finished making the lemon cupcakes, which were for National Lemon Cupcake Day - which was yesterday.


• The cupcakes were lemony, although a bit dry, which is surprising, considering how many eggs they contained.


• I had oatmeal for breakfast. Haven't done so every day, but most. Am thinking of bacon and eggs come Christmas morning.


• The postman dropped off some packages today. He didn't ring the bell or knock - he just yelled out that he was there. Odd. [Also it wasn't clear if I hadn't come out, if he would have left said packages.]


• I'm caught up again on my postcard project. Of course in a few minutes, I will be behind again.


• I found some ornaments I had forgotten about. More birds - a flamingo and an owl.


• I ran out of dishwasher tablets. Thankfully B stopped and got more on the way home. That could have been a disaster.


• The Christmas cards are still not done.

on the nights stand :: The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly

oh christmas cards

canon digital rebel xsi

Disclaimer: I really do love the tradition of sending holiday cards. Right now I am just venting, as part of me feels like pulling my hair out, strand by strand. I will feel much better once they are safely in a mailbox.^* This really is something I want to do (sending the cards, not pulling my hair out).

Today was the day I had planned on having the bulk of my holiday cards in the mail. Alas, I did not make this goal. I am probably not even close. It should still happen before the week is out. The devil is in the details, or so they say.

The photos have been ordered. They are probably even ready to be picked up. I just lack a way to get there, as Ritz has closed most of its stores in the greater LA area. Now I am starting to regret that nasty letter I sent to the Pasadena store, although their staff truly was useless.

The plan is to take B to work in Pasadena, and then drive to Newport Beach to pick up the photos, then drive back to Pasadena to pick him up and drive back to the house. Anyone familiar with LA, knows that is some serious driving. I may have to come up with a Plan B.

The thing that is really getting me is making sure I have everyone's address and names of spouses and children. I once made the mistake of putting the wrong name of one of my friend's sons on a card. I was thinking how much her son looked like a mini version on her father, and so I wrote her father's name by mistake. Oops. I was so embarrassed.

I also find myself saying (aloud), why do people move? Yes, this comes from the mouth of a woman who has moved how many times? Wait, 28. Not that I am counting or anything. But still, why do people move without sending some sort of update to their friends - especially the ones who still send things in the mail!

I still hate Facebook, but don't know how I would complete this crazy task without it. It has been great with the spouse's names that I can't seem to recall. It's not entirely my faulty memory. In some cases, we have never met, or only met once, or even just in passing at some huge event where I met 300 other people.

I do my best to keep my paper address book up to date, but find it nearly impossible with all the moving, name-changing (oh wait, I did that too), and baby having that goes on these days. I know it is just that my friends are at the stage in life, that this is what we do. It also doesn't help that I have more than one address book, and keep some things on the computer as well. Gmail search is a godsend.

_______________________________________________________________
^*Yes, I believe large batches of holiday cards should be put in an actual mailbox like that scene from When Harry Met Sally.

on the night stand :: Big Rabbit's Bad Mood by Ramona Badescu.

another christmas story

canon digital rebel xsi

When I was in the fourth grade, the school had a Christmas pageant. Each class performed a skit or sang. It was a pretty big deal. At least I remember spending much time on it.

I had joined the class after school started, so by the time December rolled around, I was still the new kid. My sister was making an impression in the classroom next door. Not a good one, either.

Each class was given time to practice their act in the auditorium. Apparently despite my shyness, I could make my voice carry. Someone noticed, and made me the announcer. I was pretty shocked. I figured they would have picked an eighth grader.

My other role was to play a German girl in our play about Christmas around the world. I sang O Christmas Tree with two other girls from my class. We had to pull a Christmas tree on and off the stage.

On the night of the performance, I guess my sister's teacher didn't get the memo that I was made the announcer. I remember going up to the microphone as my sister's class was getting ready for their signing performance. Her teacher came up to me, as she was tuning her guitar, and asked quite abruptly, what I was doing up at the podium. Did I mention she was a nun? I was a bit taken aback, but managed to somehow get out the words that I was the announcer. It really threw me off. I guess she was afraid I was there to pull a prank or something.

Of course I wasn't thrilled when the following year she would take over the fifth grade class. I spent the year on edge. I don't think she believed we were sisters, yet she seemed to be waiting for me to act out until classes ended in June.


on the night stand :: Little Bee by Chris Cleave.

in my own bed

canon digital rebel xsi

If all goes well, tomorrow I will sleep in my own bed for the first time in over three years. Please don't misunderstand, I've been sleeping in a bed since we have moved back to California - just not my own.

It is one of those things most of us take for granted. A bed of your own. Your own space, even if you share it with someone else. It is where you start and end most days. It is where you have dreams and nightmares. It is something you probably can't fully appreciate until it is taken away, although you might miss it if you travel.

We recently reached platinum level again at Starwood. Reportedly we have stayed over 100 nights since we joined. So clearly that is where some of my nights have been spent. And I am sure at least 200 more have been spent in hotels that were not nearly as nice.

And here at the house I have gotten to feel like Goldilocks, despite my brown hair. There are two twin beds, a full, and a California king. I have slept on all of them at some point while here. They are all approaching the 30-year old mark, and even if they weren't none of them feel "just right". We have been thinking about getting a new bed for a while, but I have been a bit resistant because it would feel like we were giving up the goal of moving out of here. Also there is the issue of actually buying a bed. Mattress shopping is nerve wracking.

There are two discount mattress stores here in the LA area that run competing ads on late night television. The skinny blonde one is always trying to outdo the overweight balding one. The latest ads are about dust mites. At least they are cartoon dust mites, but still not images you want in your head before climbing into a bed that according to them, must be crawling with them. Their claim is that after eight years, a typical mattress doubles in weight due to sweat and dust mites. They don't say if it is expodential if your mattress is over three times that age. Honestly I don't want to know, but I think it did push me towards the idea of getting a new bed, although that wasn't the only reason.

Several months back I woke up one morning, and could hardly move. Somehow I managed to drag myself out of bed to go pee. I thought to myself that if I could just get back into bed and stretch, everything would be fine. I was so wrong.

I did managed to get back, but then really found myself in much pain, and truly unable to move. B heard me moaning and came in to check on me. He started laughing when he saw the contortion I had managed to form myself into. Of course I did manage to get up, and after a few hours, was fine. Still it was a bit disconcerting. But as I said, that was several months ago. It really was the images of dust mites (now with Christmas trees) that were the last straw.

I know that this bed isn't going to solve everything. It will still reside in a place that doesn't feel anything like a home to me. But hopefully I will sleep better, and my back will feel better.



on the night stand :: Last Night by Hyewon Yum.

oh christmas tree

canon digital rebel xsi

I've been thinking about when to put up the tree. For many families there is a tradition around the tree. When it is put up. How it gets decorated. What you do during, and maybe even after it is done.

I realized that in my family, when I was still living with both my parents, we didn't put up the tree until the last minute. In fact, on our last Christmas together, we put up the tree on Christmas Eve.

I really really wanted a white Christmas tree. I was seven, and pretty much got what I wanted. We had an artificial green tree in the basement, but I convinced my father it was time for a new one. My mother was not keen on the idea, but let us go shopping on the day before Christmas.

All the trees were half off. They only had one white one that met my standards. Unfortunately it was out of stock.

The good news was that the sales lady said if we helped her remove the decorations, we could have the floor model. Even better, we could have all the ornaments at no charge. Score!

So we helped pack up the decorations. They were red balls and little snowmen and women. We packed up the tree and loaded up the car. Then we went home and set everything up. It looked great. And was ready just in time to go to bed and wait for Santa's arrival.

I am not sure when we took the tree back down, but I bet it was before the New Year. We could always go visit my grandmother, who had her tree (which touched the ceiling) up for most of January. It was green though, not white.


on the night stand :: When Wanderers Cease to Roam by Vivian Swift.

catching up

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I thought I would do an update of sorts:

• I finally made the last of what I had planned for Thanksgiving dinner - stuffed mushrooms.


• We have just about finished the leftovers from Thanksgiving. We really got our $8 out of that turkey.


• I finished my holiday card list. I am sure there will be some additions, and I still need some addresses, but I could get the bulk of the cards in the mail by the 15th.


• I have even started addressing the cards. I should probably order stamps.


• I also figured out our holiday gift list.


• I am also once again caught up on my postcard project. Card number 10 goes in the mail tomorrow.

on the night stand :: Of Bees and Mist by Eric Setiawan.

a trip down memory lane

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Recently I found several of my classmates from grade school on FaceBook. This was a class of about 40 students, the majority of whom had been together since first grade. I didn't join them until the sixth grade, and we graduated in the eighth. That's the longest I attended one school (aside from college), by the way.

Today I was reminded of an incident that happened in the eighth grade. On my way home from school, I was hit by a car while riding my new bike. Overall, I was fine. My face did hit the pavement, leaving me to look like Frankenstein for about a month. I actually called my best friend after getting home from the hospital and told her I was hit by a car. I forgot that I had had time to process this, as she started screaming into the phone.

The driver that hit me was pretty young. He might have actually been in high school. Unfortunately one of the witnesses to the accident insisted I hit the car, and since I was driving the wrong way on the sidewalk, I was cited. I actually had to attend traffic school. I was 13-years old.

The truth was this driver was making a right turn on red, and didn't stop completely, or behind the intersection lines. In the end, he was not held responsible for any of my medical bills.

The accident happened at a busy intersection. There was a gas station on the corner, so someone there called 911. The ambulance was required to take me to the hospital because I had sustained a head injury. I really just wanted to walk my bike home. I was about 3 blocks away, and was so not looking to my mother's reaction. I hadn't seen my face yet.

At the hospital they took x-rays. I was fine. In a weird turn of events, my Mom was actually home that afternoon. She was making eggplant for dinner. Normally she wouldn't have been home for a couple of hours after the accident happened. She stopped cooking, and met me at the hospital.

I remember asking the doctor if I could go back to school the next day. I had a spelling test. I still think he went back to check the x-rays again, as I am sure most kids wanted an excuse to stay home from school.

I did go to school the next day, despite how horrible my face looked. My Mom drove me because the doctor was concerned that I could pass out. I didn't. But because my Mom had an early day, I arrived at school much earlier than usual. I still remember everyone coming up to me as they arrived at school, asking what had happened to me.

I went to a cheerleading competition not too long after that. My face was still pretty bad. This wasn't something that you could cover up with makeup. By that point, I was good at ignoring the stares.

Before I completely healed, I rode my repaired bike to the traffic school for non-drivers. As part of the experience, we had to go around the room and say why we were there. Most kids had gotten caught doing really stupid things like grabbing ahold of a car while on roller skates, or riding with three people on a bike built for one. Amazingly none of these kids had been injured. Yet there I sat, my black eye still not healed, cited for riding my bike the wrong way on the sidewalk. There were gasps when I told my story.



on the night stand :: A Penguin Story by Antoinette Portis.

trying to get into the holiday spirit

canon digital rebel xsi

This is the first year in a very long time that I actually have a tree and decorations. Usually this time of year I am posting about wanting a Christmas tree, and childhood memories of begging for a tree. That said, I have no idea what is wrong with me.

Part of me thinks it is still a little early for decorating. It is only the 7th. The other obstacle is that the tree is in the garage. And I am afraid of the garage. There are big nasty spiders in there. I keep thinking that we are going to take the tree out of its bag, and find it covered in spiders. That is not my idea of a Christmas memory. Spiders make me scream.

I am still not done with the card list. It really isn't a difficult thing to do. I just have no motivation. I really should just sit down at the table, and get to work. In a few hours, I could at least have the envelopes addressed. No idea about what to say on the inside. I have done some work on what goes on the front.

Maybe that is what it is. All the work it takes to put this holiday together. Not that I don't like work. I just don't like work that isn't appreciated. I think I am having these feelings of no one really cares about me. I am feeling isolated (which makes sense since I do spend a great deal of my day alone). But I also feel when I do reach out, I am ignored.

I know that this time of year makes me feel vulnerable to start. I get to constantly be reminded that I don't have a family, and how that means I don't fit into the Hallmark image of Christmas. That something is wrong with me. I also get to listen and watch other people whine about the families the do have. That's a pretty bad combination. It makes me vacillate between wanting to cry and scream. I probably shouldn't be around people.



on the night stand :: The Magician's Elephant by Kate DiCamillo.

wonder and delight

canon digital rebel xsi

This photo really doesn't do the holiday light display at Small World justice. It truly is amazing. It actually felt like it was snowing at Disneyland.

It truly has been decades since I have been to Disneyland during the holiday season. I know that it was special back then, but I couldn't believe how much wonder and delight the park holds right now.

I understand that they are making handmade candy canes now. I made marshmallows once. I can't imaging the work that goes into formed candy.

We plan to go back before the season is over. I can't wait!


on the night stand :: Manhood for Amateurs by Michael Chabon.

making a list

canon digital rebel xsi

Today we headed to Old Town Pasadena to do some holiday shopping of sorts. Even when you don't do the present thing, there are still things you need. We got the blank cards. Two packs of 50. I know of only one store that carries them. Thankfully, they were on sale too.

We also got boxes for cookies. I guess I am committing to this holiday baking project. It has been ages since I have baked cookies as presents. I stopped because it was so much work. One year I literally had every plate we had covered with cookies. There were so many cookies, even after my Mom gave them to everyone she wanted, there was still enough to fill a coat box - yes a box large enough to fit a full length winter coat.

The worst part of it was the next year when people didn't receive a box of cookies. Some people got rather nasty, wanting to know where there cookies were. It was truly awful. I hope I don't regret this.

While we were at The Container Store, we also picked up an 8 quart container for bread dough. I think this may solve the problem I have been having making bread - it doesn't have enough room to rise. With this container, you can actually see how much your dough is rising. I hope this does the trick.

on the night stand :: A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore.

25 days of free music

canon digital rebel xsi

Amazon is once again offering 25 daily holiday music downloads for free. Every day in December, there is a new MP3. You need to download the Amazon MP3 Downloader to start. Of course, you must also have an Amazon.com account.

I did this last year, and it was quite a mix. There was a little something for everyone. You can download them daily, or throughout the month. After the 25th though, they may or not be available.

Here is the playlist to date:

1. Joy to the World by Casting Crowns (from the album Peace on Earth)


2. Snow Angel by Tori Amos (from the album Midwinter Graces)


3. The Coventry Carol by Mediaeval Baebes (from the album Mistletoe & Wine)


4. Slower Than Christmas (explicit) by The Box Masters (from the album Christmas Cheer (explicit))


5. God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen by Jars of Clay (from the album Christmas Songs)


6. Christmas Tree by Lady GaGa (from the album Christmas Tree)


7. No Room by Todd Agnew (from the album Do You Hear What I Hear)


8. Hark the Herald Angels Sing by Carola (from the album Christmas in Bethlehem)


9. This Christmas Girl by James Pants (from the album Badd Santa)


10. Silent Night by House of Heros (from the album The Christmas Classics)


11. O Holy Night by Richie McDonald (from the album O Holy Night)

And just for today, you can download the entire soundtrack to the Disney Pixar movie, UP. Go here and enter the code: latimesdisney. This expires on December 3, 2009, so act quickly.

on the night stand :: Nuture Shock: New Thinking About Children by Po Bronson.

a postcard project

canon digital rebel xsi

I have decided what to do for December's challenge. I really do have close to 31 postcards around here. Why not send them out over the month, and see what happens. It could be fun. Or at least interesting.

I have postcards from Vegas and Disneyland and even Oregon. There are also some from the W Hotel. Those are actually pretty cool. I love postcards, but do agree that they are best sent out into the world.

I also realized today that I need to get started on my holiday cards. I always say I will get them out by the 15th, but have never succeeded. I'm lucky if I make it by Christmas day.


on the night stand :: Await Your Reply

a mitzvah december

canon digital rebel xsi

Mitzvah is defined as a precept or commandment. A good deed done for religious duty. Comes from 17th century Hebrew.

I signed on for another month of blogging. December comes with an additional challenge from Eden Kennedy: "to give something, to someone, every day of the month, and then blog about it. The goal is to act with kindness, obviously -- I don't want to be responsible for people giving each other black eyes. Your gifts can be as large as volunteering or donating to charity, or as small as a kind word to someone who needs it."

Being a bit of a shut it, I am not sure exactly how this will work. I also am not much into bragging about doing something good - somehow I think that takes away from it. I do like sending things in the mail, so perhaps that is something I can do.

Here are some other ideas (off the top of my head):

• Do something nice for someone you care about: make someone a sandwich, walk the neighbor's dog, do someone else's regular chore.


• Do something unexpected for someone you have lost touch with: phone a friend out of the blue, send a card, write a letter, buy someone something off their wish list.


• Be kind to strangers: hold open the door, help someone with a heavy package, smile, let the other person have the better parking space.


• Help the needy: give your leftovers from your dinner to a homeless person, put some change in the Salvation Army can, drop off a used coat or warm clothing.


• Start a project: bake cookies, take up a cause, start a postcard campaign.

on the night stand :: That Old Cape Magic by Richard Russo.

and so november ends

canon digital rebel xsi

Yesterday we decided to give in, and returned to the happiest place on earth. It is the first time I have been there in decades for the holiday season. It did not disappoint.

The main thing I wanted to see was Small World. Oh wow! We waited in line for about 30 minutes in the middle of the afternoon. The holiday decorations inside were amazing. I loved how they matched the country with their actual holiday traditions. We knew though, that we needed to return after the sun went down for the light show.

We lucked out and only had to wait in line about 10 minutes for Buzz Lightyear. Then we walked around the Matterhorn, towards Small World. Even from afar, the lights were amazing. We only had one obstacle in our way - the parade.

We ended up in a line to get across the parade route. A cast member instructed us to walk fast, or we would have to wait for the next break in the parade to cross.

We made it across just fine. Then we made it to the front of Small World. Wow. Just wow.

Then we figured out where the end of the line was, an got in it. Even better, we managed to see the end of the parade up close. And just when it couldn't get any more awesome, the light show started as we were on the ramp down to the boats.

I have photos, but haven't downloaded them yet. Heck, I'm hoping to finish everything I had planned for Thanksgiving dinner sometime this week.



on the night stand :: The Curse of the Good Girl by Rachael Simmons.

why employers should not provide health insurance

canon digital rebel xsi

I know this isn't something I talk about often. I did, however, spend a number of years working for a large health insurance provider.

A few weeks ago, I listened to This American Life's 2-part series on health insurance reform. One of the most important questions it asked was why we should let our employers be in charge of our health insurance. The simple truth is, we shouldn't. Here are just a few reasons:

• The reality is that people who sick, cannot work. So if you get sick, and can't work, and lose your job, guess what else you lose? That's right, your health insurance. And please don't say COBRA. Anyone who has ever had to rely on COBRA knows that it is only a good idea in theory. Here is a NYT's Op-Ed piece on just this issue.


• Health care providers may have commercials in which they talk about the patient as being their customer, but the reality is if you have group health insurance from your employer - they are the customer - not you. Don't believe me. Ask what happens if your employer doesn't make a payment to your health insurance company. If you were to call your health insurance company, they wouldn't even tell you that your employer didn't pay, even if it was the reason they denied your claim.


• Employers usually decide which health care plan to provide employees based on what is most cost effective for the employer. So if your needs differ, you are either paying for something inadequate, or paying for something you don't need.


• Why have your health care (or of those in your family) tied to your job? There are many people out there right now who can't leave jobs they hate (or aren't serving them) for fear of losing health insurance. Conversely, why put your job at risk because you are forced to discuss a health issue of your or your family with your employer?

You can listen to This American Life's Episode 391: Less is More and Episode 392: Someone Else's Money for free at those links. I highly recommend you do. Then ask what real health care reform means.


on the night stand :: Trouble by Kate Christensen.

and so it goes

canon digital rebel xsi

Just some random thoughts about today:

• While I could probably live on turkey sandwiches for a week, B could not. So tonight we went out for Thai food.


• I think the dishes are multiplying - like bunnies!


• We are going to try eating oatmeal for breakfast until Christmas. Then bacon and eggs!


• It sprinkled today.


• The plan is to go to Disneyland tomorrow! Can't wait to see Small World decked out!!!

on the night stand :: Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman.

i survived another thanksgiving

canon digital rebel xsi

Thanksgiving dinner went off without any real issues. I ended up toning down the feast a bit. I not only realized this was way too much food for four people and one pre-schooler, but I was running out of time and oven space. I nixed the stuffed mushrooms and the corn souffle. I had just about run out of milk too, so that also meant the corn souffle was really not going to happen, even if I could find a place in the oven for it.

B was in charge of finishing tidying up the house, while I cooked. I came down to the kitchen around 8:30 am and pretty much went non-stop until 2:30 pm. I took a break to change my clothes, and laid down for about 5 minutes. Then it was back to check on the turkey, and get everything ready for that last half hour of getting everything to the table warm.

I let the turkey rest in a sink full of water, while I started on the gravy and the stuffing. The gravy required blanching 24 cloves of garlic three times. It isn't difficult, but labor intensive. While the garlic was blanching, I sauteed the onions and other vegetables.

Once the turkey was ready to go in the oven, I was somewhat relieved. If nothing else, we would have turkey and pie. There was a moment where I couldn't find the onions for the green bean casserole, but I just went and did something else. When I came back, I found them.

We ended up eating on the patio. It was 80F in LA yesterday. It was actually nice. Of course, it is still autumn, so once the sun starting setting, it got chilly, so we went inside.

We had pie a few hours later in the (formal) dining room. It is pretty ironic that I currently reside in a house that has three dining tables, that seat at least six people, after not having a dining table for so long.

At the end of the day, I was too busy and tired to really get upset or sad. I dragged my sore body downstairs to put the remaining food away. I was going to have a turkey sandwich, but really was too tired. I forced myself to do a load of dishes, and then went to bed.

It was nice not to deal with any family drama at least. Of course, it doesn't make for the most interesting of blog posts.


on the night stand :: 14 Cows for America by Carmen Deedy.

on thanksgiving

canon digital rebel xsi

It's funny. I've been trying to remember a Thanksgiving from my childhood, and can't. Isn't that weird?

I know we must have done something, but clearly it wasn't very memorable. Who knows?

We did go to my Aunt & Uncle's house one year. They are vegetarian. I remember my Aunt announcing that she had invited our father to dinner. We thought she was serious, but then discovered she meant she had cooked a turkey. That really was a big surprise.

The most memorable Thanksgiving was the one in Austin where the oven didn't turn on. I had the turkey already to go into the oven, only to discover that the oven was stone cold. I thought it was the pilot light, but turned out to be something much more serious.

Thankfully one of our guests was pretty handy, and agreed to come over early and fit it. My back up plan was pumpkin soup, and pie that someone was bringing. In the end, we had turkey around 11 pm. That was definitely a Thanksgiving to remember.


on the night stand :: This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper.

pie takes a long time

canon digital rebel xsi

I forgot how long pie takes to make. The crust itself, only takes a couple of minutes in the Cuisinart. But then it must be chilled. And then rolled. And then chilled. And then filled. And then chilled. And finally baked. And at long last cooled.

The apple pie I made wasn't difficult, but I started the process at 1pm, and it didn't get into the oven until after 5pm. Of course, I wasn't entirely focused on pie making - there is also cleaning to do. Still, I figure from the time you measure the flour, until the pie is completely cooled (which is essential), you are easily looking at 8 or more hours until pie.

I don't see how anyone can make pies and turkey at the same time. Even if you had two ovens, it would be quite a feat to pull off.

My plan was to also make the gravy and the popovers. After two pies, I am beat. Guess I will just get up extra early tomorrow.




on the night stand :: Both Ways Is The Only Way I Want It by Maile Meloy.

i will not be shopping at 4am

canon digital rebel xsi

Or at 5, 6, or even noon. I won't. I just think it is wrong. Each year it seems like these sales start earlier. Some stores, like Walmart, are reportedly staying open Thanksgiving night. This is being done to help keep the crowds under control, so that hopefully no one is trampled this year. Yes, people have died for this cause.

Now, while I understand needing an excuse to get away from the family - this is not the answer. It really isn't. Go for a walk. Take a nap. Phone a friend.

The sad thing is that the big deals that everyone is waiting in line, and skipping out on the family for is - wait for it - a television! If you have read any of this blog, you know how I feel about TV.

Black Friday is a sucker's game. The big retailers are pulling out all the stops to get you to buy stuff you don't need. They are preying on your sleep deprived, caffeine fueled, desire not to go home empty-handed. They know no one wants to stand outside for hours (in most places in the cold) and come home with nothing. You could have had a second slice of your favorite pie!

If you don't believe me, read Undomestic Diva's tale from last year. It's funny, but not in that way.

Remember, no one was born to shop. Here's a link to Buy Nothing Day. It's this Friday. It's simple - sleep in and enjoy. For more ideas, here is my annual rant.


on the night stand :: Lucky Breaks by Susan Patron.

a visit to the post office

canon digital rebel xsi

Today I felt like a suburban housewife. I went to the post office, the dry cleaner, picked up some take out, and stopped at Starbucks. The post office was the most interesting, so that will be my focus.

I haven't been to the post office in weeks, which really isn't like me. I am always sending stuff out. Today didn't make me want to go back anytime soon.

The line was nearly to the door when I arrived in the late afternoon. There was a woman at the automated machine, with a package that in no way shape or form, was going to fit into that box next to it. I would have gone the automated route, but one of my packages was leaving the country, so it wasn't an option. So in the line I waited.

There were three people working, but one was soon done for the day. This brought out the guy from the back who was willing to help anyone that didn't have a transaction that required money. The woman behind me, only needed a change of address form. The woman in front of me was also able to be helped. That still left at least 10 transactions ahead of me. And guessing from the look of things, most very going to be complicated.

The guy who was no ahead of me had two shirt size boxes wrapped in brown paper. He said he had paid for the postage already, but had to stay in line because he was shipping international. When he got to the counter, it was clear something was wrong. The other postal employee managed to help the guy ahead of him who was sending several packages to France, as well as me, and was still there. I am not sure what happened, but the postal worker couldn't scan the paperwork he had printed. And also it would seem that however he had weighed his packages was off by at least three pounds. No idea how it ended. I left.

I really think post offices should use a number system when there is a crowd. It gives people the chance to get the forms they need and fill them out before getting to the counter. I felt bad that I had to fill out the customs form at the counter, but the forms were on the other side of the room. I didn't want to end up behind two more people while i got the form.

I also watched the guy who came out and emptied the box next to the automatic machine. I could clearly see boxes inside that were well over the size limit. There is a large sign on the door to the box that explains to people that because of heightened security, you cannot put anything into the box over a certain size. I still have no idea what that woman did with her humungous box. I didn't see it when I left.

Also, I am a bit disappointed by the holiday stamps this year. I got a book of each, but am not inspired.


on the night stand :: Baking: from My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

thanksgiving is almost here

canon digital rebel xsi

I am trying to stay organized about the upcoming holiday. Since I am doing all the cooking, but still want to spend some time with our guests, I think this is the key. Of course, there is always that last hour or so, which is a mad dash rush to get everything to the table, hot.

Here is the plan:

• Sunday: take the turkey out of the freezer.


• Monday: make the cranberry sauce.


• Tuesday: bake the garnet yams. I will let them cool, and store in a plastic bag until Thursday, when all I need to do is peel and mash and reheat with a bit of butter. Take the bread I've been saving for the stuffing out of the freezer, along with the sausage.


• Wednesday: bake the apple pie and the chocolate chunk pecan pie, along with the popovers (they can be reheated). Also may try to prep the stuffing.


• Thursday: start with the turkey. Then finish off the stuffing. Next peel the potatoes. And put the green bean casserole and corn pudding together. Heat everything. Thank goodness for two ovens! Finally, make the gravy, carve the turkey, and enjoy!

on the night stand :: Otis by Loren Long.

i should be packing

canon digital rebel xsi

I moved the turkey to the fridge this morning. I can't believe we are now days away from the big day. Check your bird (if it is frozen) for thawing instructions. This is usually something that takes days - not hours. It is one of the pitfalls of Thanksgiving - waking up on Thursday morning to find that your turkey is still frozen. Don't let it happen to you.

Today marks three weeks since my iPhone went missing. My purse spilled out onto the backseat of the car last night. Secretly I hoped that I would reach down and discover my missing phone and all would be well with the world again. Ironically I left my RAZR back at the house, so for a moment thought I had somehow managed to misplace another phone.

Tomorrow we are dropping off a large shopping bag filled with little bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. It is part of what we have amassed over the last year of staying at hotels. It is going to the LA Regional Food Bank thanks to Vroman's Bookstore.

on the night stand :: Julie Andrew's Collection of Poems, Songs & Lullabies by Julie Andrews & Emma Walton Hamilton

the aftermath

canon digital rebel xsi

If you read my post from yesterday, you are probably wondering, what the heck happened. I am not even sure where to begin. Much of it is a big blur.

As you may have guessed, I was spared from being sent away; my sister was not as lucky. There was a bit of time (days, maybe a week) before the night that changed everything and my sister boarding a jet plane. For starters, she had to return to the mall and exchange Garfield and company for a winter coat.

There were also discussions as to whether or not this was the right thing. I wasn't really privy to them, but I do believe that my mother talked this over with her boyfriend. My sister, for the record, did not get along with him at all. Needless to say, he didn't have any problems with my Mom's plan, and on some level I do believe his approval gave my Mom the nudge she needed. I hate to say it, but he probably was also influential in my being allowed to stay.

At some point my Mom must have to come to me with the news. When my sister boarded that plane for Newark, she had no idea she wasn't coming back, but I did. I think I thought she knew, but didn't realize until many years later that she didn't. She believed it was just for the holidays. I still have this image of her walking to the gate at the airport in her new light blue puffy coat.

My Mom and I also boarded a plane - for San Francisco. We were staying with relatives who lived in Marin County at the time. I remember all of us joking about my sister being gone. They had never been fans of her either.

Things were going okay, and then suddenly, took a very bizarre turn. In the end, my Aunt, cousin, mother and I ended up at a hotel in Union Square. There was a fight. My Aunt may or may not have fallen down the steps trying to eavesdrop on my mother and Uncle's conversation, and they next thing I knew we were packing it up and driving across the Golden Gate Bridge.

Here's a random factoid. File under strange things I remember. The hotel where we stayed had "H"'s engraved on the towels. I really thought they were pretty and figured out how to write the "H", and used it in my signature from that point forward. Told you - random.

I know that it was weird returning to our apartment. I don't think I fully believed that my sister wasn't coming back. I figured if my mother didn't change her mind, my grandmother might. She was a recent widow, and while misery loves company, even my sister may have been a bit much.

I was told to clean out my sister's room. I remember finding a half-eaten PB&J under the bed. My sister was never a neat freak. I also found something that was like a diary. She didn't write in it much, but apparently had a crush on a boy. I closed the door, and we didn't go in there. My Mom said I could have her TV, but I didn't want it. We probably mailed her the rest of her things, but I have no memory of doing it.

I vaguely recall a phone call wherein it was revealed to my sister that she wasn't returning. That didn't go over well. She was pretty pissed. I couldn't blame her, but was definitely glad to have 3000 miles between us that night.

In an even more bizarre twist, my grandmother insisted that my sister be enrolled in private school. Of course, given her record, that wasn't going to be easy. It turned out though, that a space had opened up suddenly. That it itself was pretty random, but it would turn out that the student who left, was the youngest son of one of my mother's oldest friends, who it turned out was moving to northern California. He would manage to get a girl pregnant before he graduated, so maybe location doesn't matter after a certain point.

My mother and grandmother had come to some kind of agreement. She sent her money every month, even though my father lived with his mother on and off. Again, I wasn't in on all the details. At the same time though, the message being sent was that she was disowned. We rarely talked about my sister. There were no phone calls or letters. I often joked that I was now an oldest and only child. In many ways, I was.

We would move at the end of the school year. After our two years in the Valley, it was time to move up to the West Side, as promised. My Mom bought a brand-new condo with a roof deck. I felt like Cinderella. I think that was when it hit me that she really wasn't coming back. She didn't know our address.

When I started at the new school, I don't think anyone knew I had a sister. It was like this weird secret I had. Of course, eventually someone would ask, and I honestly had no idea what to say. I couldn't exactly explain this. Who would want to be friends with someone like me?

As expected, the story didn't have a happy ending. A couple of years later, my grandmother died. My sister was still a minor, and so my mother's sister agreed to take her in. Instead she robbed my grandmother's estate, and kicked my sister out. I think at that point my father stepped in, but may have also shown her the door. That was a very dark and ugly time. I was out of the house by then, so was spared much of the detail.

At one point though, my sister did call me. I was away at college. She was up to no good of some kind, and I called her on it. She told me to go fuck myself, and hung up. I wouldn't hear her voice again until after our mother died, and the call went pretty much the same way.

I have skimmed over some parts of the story, but you may already know how it ends. My sister died in March of 2003. She was 33-years old. I didn't find out until a year later, although part of me knew. The connection of sisters is powerful.


on the night stand :: Invisible Sisters

the night that changed everything

canon digital rebel xsi

I have no idea what is bringing this to the surface. It happened when I was 15, around the holidays. I couldn't even give you an exact date. But it truly was the night that changed my world forever, even if at the time I didn't realize its impact fully.

Like all incidents of this nature, it didn't just happen. It had been brewing for a while. The holidays were coming, and my Mom wanted to go up north and visit her brother and sister-in-law. My sister, did not want to come.

So my Mom gave her a choice. She could either stay with a friend, or visit the family on the east coast. Of course my sister wanted to stay at home alone - she was 14.

At one point my sister reportedly had found a friend who would take her in for a few days. My Mom wanted names and phone numbers. She wanted to talk to the girl's mother, and make sure everything was on the up and up. I guess it wasn't. So that left a trip to the Garden State to see my father and grandmother. My Mom made it very clear that my sister was too young to stay home alone. There was no way my Mom was serving time for being a negligent parent.

My sister came back to my Mom a few days later and pointed out that she didn't have proper clothing to spend a week in the cold snowy east. She did have a point. In Southern California, you really didn't need more than a jacket, so that's all we had. My Mom agreed, and gave my sister some money to buy a coat. She returned from the mall with stuffed animals, including one for my Mom with a small box of chocolate.

Needless to say, that did not go over well. My sister, I am sure, was surprised. How could our mother not be thrilled with such as gift? There was a huge ugly fight. My sister was sent to her room before my mother killed her.

Later that night we were called to the table for dinner. We were having hot dogs and beans. Why I remember that, I don't know. But what I do remember is that dinner ended with my sister picking up her plate with her unfinished dinner, and flinging it across the table at my mother. She missed, but made her point. And what that, the night that changed everything begun.

Understandably, my Mom was livid. While my mother had seen my sister go after me on many an occasion (including one time where she came home to find my sister sitting on me so that I couldn't breathe), this was the first time my sister had done some physical towards her. My sister fled to her room, and I tried to stay out of the way, cleaning the mess that was left behind. That's how I overheard the phone conversation.

My Mom called my (paternal) grandmother. She said she couldn't do this any longer, and asked if my grandmother would take us in. Yes, us, as in my sister and me. I didn't hear the other end, but it was clear that my grandmother was more than willing. She truly did love us, even if she didn't understand everything that was about to happen.

This is where things get a bit fuzzy. I am not sure when I confronted my Mom about the whole package deal business, but I did. I knew on some level that a one-way trip to New Jersey would be the end of me. I had worked way too hard to come as far as I had, and I couldn't let anything - not even my sister - get in my way. And so I let my Mom have it. I literally felt like I was fighting for my life.

I told my Mom that it wasn't fair. I said that were were two different people. I pointed out that I hadn't done anything wrong. I wanted to go see my Aunt, Uncle, and cousin for Christmas. I hadn't gone to the mall for a coat and come back with a Garfield and Odie doll. I was an honor student at a Catholic school, making straight A's, and keeping myself out of trouble.

Of course through all of this I was yelling and crying. My Mom was not impressed with my theatrics and sent me away to my room. I was so stressed that on the way, my nose started bleeding.

All I remember was that seeing blood streaming down my face, set me off further. I was now inconsolable and crying hysterically in a ball on the floor of my room. I managed to get blood all over the place. It was on the white walls of my room and the light beige carpet, not to mention my face and clothes. My sister must have come out of her room at this point and saw me. I guess I thought I told her what was happening, but maybe I didn't, or she didn't understand me or believe me. I think she tried to help wipe some of the blood up lest my Mom's rage be further fueled.

At some point my Mom came into my room. She saw the blood and her initial reaction was that I was being way overly dramatic, and had tried to kill myself. Of course it felt like she was saying that I couldn't even do that right.


on the night stand :: Bright Sided: How the Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America by Barbara Ehrenreich

i love pie

canon digital rebel xsi

I am started to get excited about making Thanksgiving Day pie. We were watching Martha's pie show on the Tivo, and definitely inspired by the amazing pies.

It reminded me that I need to join the American Pie Council. I had planned on doing it over the summer, but didn't want to spend the $40 for a lifetime membership. But I figure if it keeps me dedicated to the art of pie making, why not? Did you even know that such an organization existed? Also, mark your calendars now - National Pie Day is January 23.

Today I also watched a live online pie crust demonstration by one of the bakers over at King Arthur Flour. Although I have made several pies from scratch now, I still have a few trouble spots. This woman was great! She went step-by-step on how to make a pie crust, and the pitfalls to avoid. Here are a few things I learned:

• When adding the water, do so a few tablespoons at a time, using a measuring cup designed for liquid measuring. It is very hard to get excess water out of a pie crust, so best to go slowly, and watch it.


• There is no magic formula to how much water a crust will need to take shape. It depends on the water in the air and in your flour as a result. At different times of the year, you may need significantly more or less liquid to get your dough to form a ball.


• When rolling out the dough, roll in one direction only. This will help keep the dough circular. [I think this may be my issue.]


• Also, when rolling dough, flip it from time to time. This will ensure that your dough isn't sticking to your work surface. If it does, lift your dough with a scraper, add some more flour to your work area, and continue rolling.


• Make sure you dough is rolled out enough so that you have an inch all around your pie plate. Hold your pie plate over your dough to figure this out - no ruler necessary.


• To get your dough to the pie plate without tearing, fold the dough in half twice. This will give you a quarter pie shape. Center the point of the dough, with the center of the plate, and carefully unfold. [This one I must try!]


• To prevent a pie that is gooey white on the bottom, roll out your top crust before adding the filling to the pie.

Even before I learned of the pumpkin shortage, I wasn't planning on making pumpkin pie this holiday. It truly isn't my favorite. I like it, but not enough to eat an entire pie, which is probably what would happen. I do really think that pumpkin is America's Marmite. I think that like Marmite, if you weren't raised on it, you just don't acquire a taste. We are having Germans to dinner. I suspect they would react to pumpkin the same way the French interns did that one year in San Francisco.

I am making an apple pie along with a chocolate pecan pie. We call the latter one brownie pie. I bet a certain little pilgrim cow might come join us for a slice.

on the night stand :: Pie by Ken Haedrich.

random list of eight

canon digital rebel xsi

I have a terrible headache today, so think I will just be random in eight:

1. Amused that Oxford English Dictionary named unfriend the word of the year. Not as amused that someone recently did, although took it back rather quickly.


2. I am looking forward to getting my hands on a copy the new Starbucks CD. You have to spend $15. Maybe buy some people in line a drink?


3. I really need a password book. I have too many accounts online. I just got myself locked out. Darn! Hate when that happens. I don't like calling customer service and admitting I am lame.


4. Still working on the Halloween photos from Disneyland. Hopefully before Christmas!


5. Tomorrow is Mickey Mouse's birthday! He's 82.


6. B is also taking the car into the shop tomorrow - hopefully they have the right parts this time.


7. Who knew I could get excited about leeks? They have made my broccoli soup even better.


8. When I was 3, I tried to flush my shoe down the loo, and backed up the plumbing in the entire building.

Told you they would be random! Oh, headache go away now. Ow!


on the night stand :: Await Your Reply by Dan Chaon.

the nightmare before christmas ride

canon digital rebel xsi

I am still working on the photos I took during Halloween at Disneyland, but thought I would share this one. It is from the Haunted Mansion, which has been transformed into The Nightmare Before Christmas. It is amazing. I think it will stay this way until the New Year.

It really is a whole different experience seeing the ride decked out this way. There are so many details - you have to get back in line - probably more than once - to take in all the details.

If you are familiar with the ride, this is the dining room scene. It actually smells like gingerbread as you pass through. It really is something to experience!


on the night stand :: Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger.

it's national clean your refrigerator day

canon digital rebel xsi

Today is National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day. No idea who started it, but I cleaned out the fridge anyway. To be honest, it needed it. I didn't find anything nasty - that happened weeks ago when I found a half of jalapeno bagel the in-laws left in the door because they won't throw any food away! And now there is plenty of room for that turkey to defrost next week.

As I wiped down the shelves, I was remembering when I was around 10, and we moved into a small rental house. It didn't come with a refrigerator, so we bought a second-hand one. It was brown, and huge. It had a freezer on the bottom. You stepped on a pedal to open the freezer. It was pretty clever, especially when you were trying to put the ice cube trays in it.

The first night we had the fridge, it made a very strange loud noise. It sounded like a space ship had landed in our kitchen. It woke us up. We ran out into the kitchen to see what was happening. It took a few nights, but we learned to get used to it.

It would seem that there was a problem with the fridge (perhaps something to do with that noise), but there wasn't much we could do. The worst of it was that it made ice - in the bottom of the refrigerator! What a pain that was to clean.

Somehow that job fell to me. I hated doing it, and probably made it a more difficult process letting it go for too long. I remember one afternoon spent trying everything I could think of to get a solid one-inch block of ice that had grown under the vegetable bins.

I tried melting the ice with pots of hot water. The idea was boil some water in a pot, and then place the entire pot onto the ice. No idea where I came up with this idea. When it didn't work very well, I probably tried pouring hot water on the ice, making an even bigger mess.

Next I got out the hammer and screwdriver, in an attempt to chisel away at the block of ice. I did finally get a piece of it out, but it took what felt like forever. Then all the ice sat in the sink to melt, while I mopped up the mess on the floor.

We kept that fridge until I started high school. We moved to an apartment that had a fridge. But even if it hadn't, that monster would not have fit in the allotted space. I was so thankful to not have to defrost the fridge any longer.



on the night stand :: Princess Hyacinth by Florence Perry Heide.

we got a turkey

canon digital rebel xsi

I don't know when the grocery stores decided to make the Thanksgiving turkey the loss leader, but every year it is more fun to watch the specials. Some years it is two-for-one turkeys. Other years, $10 off with coupon. There was even one year where you got a free small frozen bird, if you bought a fresh one.

Tonight we found ourself at the local Von's market. They were selling turkeys up to 16-pounds for $8, and over that for $10. Of course you had to spend $25, with some exclusions, but it seemed like a good deal, so we went for it.

Although the $10 turkeys were the better deal, I prefer to work with something on the smaller side. We are fortunate to have two ovens in the kitchen, but that means that they are smaller than most single ovens found under a stove. Plus, we really don't need a 22-pound bird for five people (our current guest count) - that's probably too many leftovers.

So we started looking though the turkey bin. Most of the $8 birds were in the 10-pound range - that's a tad small. We considered a smaller on from the $10 pile, but of course most of those were over 20-pounds. After a bit of searching, we found one just shy of 15 pounds - perfect!

Now all we had to do was buy some groceries. It was late, and we had really only planned on getting what we needed for the morning. I ended up getting a jar of my favorite pickles that were $6.79. Ouch! And of course some bottled water, and the pans for the turkey and stuffing. B found the last bottle of apple juice on sale. We got some eggs, milk, butter, and turkey sausage for our breakfast, and figured we would more than make the $25 minimum purchase. [Oh, and a box of donuts and some ice cream bars - why we don't shop the chain stores too often.]

We got into the express lane, with a full cart, but figuring we were within the 15 item limit. No one was ahead of us, or behind us. This should go quickly, we thought. There was even a friendly bagger ready at the wait. Unfortunately, the cashier rang up the turkey twice.

No worries, right, you just void out one, and all is well. Not quite. Somehow the computer couldn't handle that, and while it removed the extra turkey, it didn't remove the extra discount. So after some discussion with her fellow cashier, it was decided she would void the entire order, and do it again. Did I mention that the groceries were all bagged and in the cart?

Thankfully it went quickly. But still, that was probably more effort than required for a Butterball.


on the night stand :: Jamie's Food Revolution by Jamie Oliver.

day without food or day without a home

canon digital rebel xsi

This is the question I pose today: Would you rather go a day without eating or a spend a day on the streets?

I ask because as the holiday season is ramping up to full speed ahead, this is the time of year many people give to their local food banks. And while that is great, what I have become painfully aware that we often feed people, only to send them to the streets to sleep. And while there are many food and clothing drives, I have never heard of a housing drive for the homeless.

So again I ponder the question, which is would be more difficult? Certainly it is true that if you go without proper nutrition for long enough, it will kill you. But so can life on the streets, even with adequate food.

Going for a day without food would affect your body, mind, and spirit. Your stomach would grumble. You might also feel tired and even cranky. Your blood sugar would drop. You might feel dizzy. All of your energy would be focused on when you might get your next meal. You definitely would not be at your best.

Putting you on the street, would do something entirely different. It might feel like the rug had been pulled out from under you. That your safety net was gone. You might feel alone, not to mention frightened. Your body might feel cold as the temperature dropped after the sun set. Your mind might race as you tried to find somewhere safe, or thought of all the possible things that could happen if you let yourself close your eyes and drift off to sleep. You would probably end up feeling tired and maybe even dizzy. As for your spirit, it might be broken, or at least a bit drained, depending on what you saw during your time on the streets. It is hard to say.

I was fortunate that we never went hungry when I was growing up. There were some close calls. I remember one period where my Mom made a pot of spaghetti sauce that she had added too much red pepper flake, last well over a week. There were other times when the cupboards were pretty bare or we made some strange things with what we had on hand, but we never were without food.

The closest we came to homelessness was the night we fled from our father. We drove across California all night. We arrived in Los Angeles in the morning, but by evening had a roof over our heads.

When B and I came back to California the second time, we were living in an extended stay for a while, on and off. When we would change locations, we would usually need to be out by noon, but couldn't check into our next hotel until mid-afternoon. Those few hours left me feeling woozy. I would worry about all sorts of things. All of our stuff was packed in the car - would someone try to steal it? It is hard to explain, but I would feel off kilter. I would often snap at B for no apparent reason. I know it is not the same. I only mention this because I imagine actually being on the street so much worse, and cannot even imagine.

I stumbled upon SLO Homeless' blog today. He posted today about how we need to work as a community to make sure the homeless have access to a rod and reel, so they can leave homeless behind. I think he is onto to something.

I also don't want you to think I am saying helping the homeless around the holidays is a bad thing - it isn't. You can leave a comment on this post, and $10 will be donated to Second Harvest Food Bank. Land' End is also accepting gently used coats until November 30. So far they have collected over 8,000 coats!


on the night stand :: Juliet, Naked by Nick Horby.

in which i get a dm from scott simon

canon digital rebel xsi

Really, I was only trying to help get the word out about an amazing story. I am a big fan of NPR, and Weekend Edition, and Scott Simon¹. I am still not sure what exactly happened, or if anything more will come of it. I still love Twitter, and I think it is a very powerful tool. Maybe I need to use this experience to harness it's power a bit better.

Oh, and for those that don't use Twitter, DM stands for direct message. As the name implies, a direct message is a tweet that is only seen by the person you send it to. It's a way to communicate with someone without cluttering up your friends' Twitter stream.

Last night I saw a tweet from Scott Simon, host of NPR's Saturday Weekend Edition, about an group in New York raising money for Thanksgiving dinners for the needy of New York.² Here is the link. I had also seen an earlier tweet by Mark, the head of Invisible People, talking about how we tend to go crazy this time of year feeding the homeless, but forget about what they need even more - housing and jobs.

So I tweeted this, thinking maybe something might happen. And boy did it ever. I think in part because Mark tweeted this. Oh dear.

And suddenly I found myself in Oz. Right around that part where the Scarecrow starts making snide comments about the Apple Trees to get them to give up their fruit. I saw a notification that I had received a direct message. I was shocked to see it was from none other than Scott Simon.

I tried to message Mark, but Tweet Deck was having issues. Instead, I tweeted this, since I couldn't direct message Scott Simon, as he doesn't follow me.

Then I saw a tweet from Mark, asking if I had heard something. I tweeted back that I had, and that his tweet about Scott Simon not being real or engaging got his attention.

I should point out that in between Mark's initial tweet, and the message from Scott Simon, I tweeted this. Of course I made the mistake of not mentioning the actual Twitter account, so it probably wasn't seen by Scott Simon.

There was also a bit of a discussion about how people should use Twitter. I tend to agree that there aren't any rules, and people can use it how they wish. I learned this from following Warren Whitlock, co-author of Twitter Revolution. Mark feels differently, and that's okay too. I honestly can't imagine trying to manage a Twitter account with a million followers.

I ended things with this tweet. My heart was still racing.

As I said, I don't know if anything more will come of this. I would like to point out though that Scott Simon recently gave a speech at TedxMidAtlantic about the art and importance of story telling. You can view it here. Ironically that is exactly what Mark has done with InvisiblePeople.tv - he has allowed homeless people to tell their stories. Mark traveled the country, talking to homeless people, with no more than an iPhone, and about $100 (along with a few sponsors like Ford and Hanes).

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¹And I hope I haven't left a bad impression, because Scott Simon is friends with Daniel Pinkwater, and that would just be awful.
²I later found this tweet from Soraya Darab, of the New York Times, about the NY food drive and retweeted it.

on the night stand :: The Yggyssey by Daniel Pinkwater.

on veteran's day

canon digital rebel xsi

I know that at at least one of my grandfathers served in the military. It is possible they both did. It just wasn't something really discussed.

My father was drafted for Vietnam, but he was rejected because of his flat feet. And maybe also because he was partially deaf in one ear (and maybe because the U.S. government realized giving him a gun was a bad idea). I often wonder what would have happened if he had gone off to war. My mom saved the clipping from the newspaper that showed his name on a list of local men that had been drafted. I once found it tucked away in a photo album, lost long ago. But beyond that, it wasn't mentioned.

Growing up I remember getting the day off from school. I might have gone to a parade when I was little, but if my Mom had work, it was a scramble to figure out what to do with us.

When I worked and I got the day off, I'm sad to report that I used it to prepare for Thanksgiving. I have always been offended by the sales though. I never understood that.

This year I have noticed a lot more companies offering specials for just for veterans. I know Applebee's gave away free meals today to veterans. A way of saying thank you for serving our country. I think this is more in line with the spirit of the day.

I also think it is important that people using today as an opportunity to bring to light some of the many problems that often plague our veterans. For example, there are estimates that many of the homeless out there, are veterans (in fact numbers I saw today were saying about 25%). And of those, over 3/4 of them have mental illness and/or drug addiction. There are also major issues regarding getting proper health care for veterans. One study found that over 2500 US veterans died last year due to lack of health insurance.

This four-minute interview sums things up. Meet Dale. He will make you think about how we should be treating our veterans.

Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you how I got messaged (DM'd) on Twitter by Scott Simon (yes, the guy from NPR).


on the night stand :: Moleskin Daily Planner 2010 (Large Red)