Resigning my family title...

It is an odd sensation when at 25 you are experiencing tinges of jealousy, at having lost the title of 'baby of the family'.

Yes that is right, I said jealousy. I mean, come on, I was the baby in my family for 25 years of my life. Giving up the spotlight is difficult when you've held and ROCKED the title for that long. But alas, my cousin had a baby, and my reign came to a close.

Yes I realize how awful that sounds. However, my selfishness is not the point of this post.

I now, after a recent extended family vacation am happy to report that jubilation beats jealousy every time. This little boy invigorates the older generations in my family in a way that their own children haven't been able to in years. It is an interesting thing when the youngest generation reaches adulthood and how a family's dynamic can change. To see my cousin, only a few years older than me, take on the role of a father. To see my grandfather become a great grandfather. It is strange.

The vacation traditions change but they stay the same. We still golf, we still play card bingo, we still make dinner. The conversations however, have changed from high school basketball games to babies. Salaries instead of summer camp. Home renovations over relationship statuses. Somewhere along the way the 'kids' grew up. It was inevitable. But now, there is a little one running around, and the traditions that I can only pull up from other people's recollections are happening right in front of me. The 'when you were little stories' are now playing out in real time. The horse rides my grandfather gave me as a two year old are reenacted as if I am watching a moving picture. My mother on her hands and knees playing peek-a-boo. The inflections in my grandmother's voice when she asks him a question, rings eerily familiar in my own ears. The silly faces my father makes. The worry my aunt cannot hide when play gets a little rough. All these things have an once removed element of déjà vu.

It is peculiar to observe the grandparents and parents go through the motions of what I can only assume was mine, my sister and my cousins childhoods. It is nostalgic. It is energizing in a way. To see what they must have been like with us. To see what they are like with him. It is the circle of life through the lens of a family. It is pretty extraordinary to see.

I can say, in all honesty, that I am glad to be among the adults in the family. I will find my role in this new group soon enough. But before I do I have to say, because it would be uncharacteristic if I didn't, that every baby will be welcomed into the family knowing full well that they have very big shoes to fill. Size eight and half to be exact.

Water from the sky...

And I am not talking about rain.

If you live in a city, you have undoubtedly experienced the mystery that is random water falling from the sky.

It isn't at all reminiscent of getting slimed on Double Dare. No, that is just the window washer on the 27th floor who has bad eye-hand coordination. Be careful, the bucket usually follows.

No, I am talking about the fine mist that conjures memories of the first moments of a cool summer shower. However, when examined further there seems to be no point of origin. It also comes and goes as it pleases. It is not consistent. It is almost like a mirage. It is over before you know it and it leaves you wondering if it was real.

Where does this mystery condensation come from? What is it? Is there meaning behind it? Is something from above trying to tell us something?

There is something oddly intriguing about, but when I let my mind wander it goes to a disturbing place.

If anyone has answers, please let me know.

Don't Buy That Shirt...

Here is my belated second entry. Fashion faux pas of the week.

Puka shell necklaces.

What up bro? Where did you get that sweet, double strand puka shell choker bro? Bro? Did you just get back from riding some surf or perhaps just revisiting 1992?

Seriously, I have never understood this fad, except for when I was in the islands, where it isn't a fad. In Hawaii, the wearing of puka shells was traditionally thought to ensure a peaceful and safe voyage, especially for sailors on a long journey, so puka shell necklaces were especially worn by those who had to travel at sea.

Someone should tell that to the 30 something man riding my morning bus. He didn't just have one ring of puka shells around his neck he had three. Count em. One. Two. Three. Each getting closer and closer to pushing the 'few extra pounds' up around his face, like a Shar-Pei whose collar is a few notches too tight. It was disturbing but I couldn't look away. I wondered if they were stuck on. Perhaps the clasps had rusted through to the point of impenetrability. Maybe they are the shackles he wears to remind him of his contrite and miscalculated past. I guess I will never know.

I'd like to believe that the Hawaiian snail shells, in the context of a fratastic 19 year old who has buried his puka within the folds of his popped collars would be better. My intuition, however, screams otherwise.

For the love of...

As a former resident of the great state of Minnesota, I have to say what a bunch of babies.

They said how ridiculous we acted when Brett decided to retire from the Pack, then un-retire, then retire, then un-retire, then retire, then un-retire...THEN go play for the Jets, then retire, then un-retire to play for the VIKINGS!!!! Everyone remembers how ridiculous they said we acted, right?

Okay Minnesota, he said he was coming and then he said he wasn't. But then he DID and he played for you and sure while he had a heck of a season, it culminated in an amazingly poor pass decision by the Brett that Packer fans know and for some still love. Had to mention that it puts a smile on my face.

Now he is saying after ankle surgery (poor baby) that he may not come back and EVERYONE in the entire state of Minnesota is crying??? Jimney Crickets...this kind of reaction after only 1 season??? I think Minnesota's reaction should be staggeringly different form the reaction of a state full of fans that cheered him on through thick and through thin for 17 seasons ...wouldn't you agree?

I hope all the criticisms, and reprimands, and taunts and heckles...I hope all of the words those Viking fans are just starting to swallow get stuck in their throats like a HUGE CHUNK OF CHEDDAR CHEESE.

SKOL THIS YOU INFANTS!!!!!!!

In case you are ever in need of a good insult.

http://jezebel.com/5577719/100-greatest-movie-insults-of-all-time

I was a little worried Sandlot wasn't going to make it in there...but this did not disappoint.

Romance per Brigance.

Over the years I have had a lot of conversations about the men I date, the men I want to date or the men I like spending time with. My father, for example, has been a willing sparring partner when it comes to this particular topic. This is not out of the ordinary for a father who has gone through two daughter's worth of prime dating years. I mean he never polished shotguns in the living room waiting for me to come home, but we have butted heads about some of my choices. I know he always has my best interest at heart at the end of the day and that he just wants me to he happy. However lately, some of those conversations, from my teens to my twenties, got me thinking.

Have you ever seen the movie 'A Time to kill'? Well for this entry I hope you have because otherwise you may not get the reference.

Close your eyes. Okay, well you can't read this if you do that, so imagine you are closing your eyes. Now picture a Midwestern girl in her twenties. No. Picture a daughter of a daughter of a farmer's daughter wandering the city streets of Chicago. Now imagine that she is looking for someone to compliment the woman she is and the life she lives. Imagine her wanting someone who is confident and has the ability to communicate. Someone who can express emotion and physical affection. A guy who wants to show her off, who wants to take her out, who speaks about her like she is something to be proud of. Someone who is successful and who isn't afraid to talk about the future, whatever that future may be. A guy who is willing to ask what she wants and expect the same in return.

Now imagine what that guy looks like. now imagine he is Black....or Pacific Islander, or Asian or Latino.

Does that make any of the qualities aforementioned less important? Does it make this imaginary couple somehow less legitimate?

Let me digress for a moment just to say that my father is an amazing, caring, nurturing man, and in this particular case I am using him ONLY as an example of someone I have talked to about this topic. It's not like he is a member of White Pride. Hell, he isn't even a Republican. I am using him in this instance because he is my father and more than others has an investment in person. I will spend the rest of my life with. Now back to my point.

Spending the majority of my adult life in diverse areas has made diverse couples part of the norm. I don't see it as an issue the way others might. If I am ever lucky enough to find a guy who demonstrates the qualities mentioned above, I'd be happy just having found him. I know those who genuinely care about me will be as well and that includes my father.

GleeKed Out...

After last night's Glee Live at the Rosemont theatre I am walking around today in a hazy afterglow. The kind of afterglow that would make Sue Sylvester say something like...

"I'm going to ask you to smell your armpits. That's the smell of failure, and it's stinking up my office."

But I just can't help it. Hearing Kurt's crystal clear soprano made me believe, much like Brittany, that he could be mine one day. Watching Finn stumble his way around the stage proving his charm with every determined step made me giddy. Listening to Mercedes voice run a marathon in almost every song was moving. It all made me feel like I was defying gravity. Even a non Gleek, my mother, likened the experience to the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. There were times when the screaming fans drown out the sound of New Directions. It was pandemonium and I was in the thick of it.

Seeing it live may have been a mistake, because what was once just a deep love and devotion, is now a full blown obsession. I have been singing mash-ups in my head all day. I can see everybody's halo because I AM walking on sunshine. So much so, that I had to plan a special luncheon with a fellow Gleek just so I could process out loud just how much I love the show, Kurt, the concept, the music, the social commentary, Kurt, the Broadway nods, the high school memories and of course Kurt. It is a night that will stay with me much like the many immortal words of Sue Sylvester.

She once said, "I can't wait to start singing and dancing and maybe even putting on the Ritz a little bit."

I couldn't agree more. Listening to the cast sing and watching them dance just made me want to join in. It was unadulterated and euphoric. It was a feeling, well a feeling that baby I just can't fight anymore.

I am a GLEEK for LIFE!!!!