The crazy cat lady

I am the crazy cat lady.

I lived with both dogs and cats growing up, but our cats were always indoor/outdoor cats (read mostly outdoor).

Everything I've read says that cats are very independent creatures with little to no 'pack' mentality. But I disagree.

To give some background, Jason and I moved in together (officially) in September of 2001. In November, we solidified our relationship by adopting two dependents; Beatrice and Benedick.
Beatrice was an older female who instantly preyed upon Jason's weak spot for the 'underdog' or the animal who would otherwise go unadopted. I fell in love with a ball of fur no bigger than my hand, who was scaling the door to his kennel and mewing pitifully. We (begrudgingly) decided on taking home the older female when the shelter associate explained that they were having a 'two-for-one' on cats. Adopt one, get one free!! So, we brought home both cats. Beatrice spent the first two months under our bed and little baby Benedick spent the first two months draining our wallets from vet visits to cure him of Bordatella. (The feline version of 'kennel cough'.)
Beatrice had obviously been an outdoor cat as we soon learned. The only time she came inside was to use the bathroom. No joke. She eventually stopped coming home for meals, but would meow at the back door to be let in, where she would promptly do her business and ask to be let out again. Eventually, she stopped coming home altogether.
But Benedick was always a homebody. He went from being a scrawny, snotty li'l furball to a 13-pound Mainecoon in no time.

He was our 'only child' for years until a friend of a friend had two litters of kittens and still needed to find a home for one...



It was two days after Jason's birthday in 2005 when I drove to go pick up our new addition, a tortoiseshell female. Upon arriving, I saw another little kitten (all black) and inquired as to whether she had found a home for that one as well.
Big mistake. Ha.
She explained that the black kitten was from her other litter and had an umbilical hernia that was quite pronounced, making him unadoptable. She was pretty sure it was going to require costly surgery and he'd have to be put down. I instantly collected both kittens in my carrier and off we went for home. (Thank goodness Jay has a soft spot for unadoptables. I didn't get into any trouble whatsoever!)

This was also the year that our family had discovered 'LOST'... the TV series. So, our new additions were named Claire and Sawyer. Sawyer grew to a healthy size and age and got his surgery where they tucked his spleen and gallbladder back into their correct cavity and gave him a nice, flat tummy that would make any Beverly Hills housewife jealous.
Claire and Sawyer decided to get in one last propagation before being fixed. Upon discovering her pregnancy, my daughter asked if we could keep one of the kittens. Ummm... no. We already had three cats. And even that was gently nudging me into a certain kind of depression. (I love cats, but honestly don't want to be a crazy cat lady.)
Thinking I knew something about genetics, I looked at my black cat and my tortoiseshell and relented with a "Fine, you can keep the white one." Parental Psychology, right? She feels like she got her way and I got one over on the kid 'cuz there's no way these two will ever have a white cat.
The firstborn was calico just like mom and the second and third were midnight black just like daddy. The last.... was white. With blue eyes. Our genetic freak.
What makes him a freak is that he got all of the recessive genes... and statistically speaking, should be either blind or deaf. But our little Spartacus was neither.

'Sparky' should technically belong to my daughter... but he and I have bonded. I'm sure some of it has to do with imprinting and early bonding. He was born in our house, slept beside my bed in the whelping box... and at two years old, we now have routines together.
He typically wakes me up in the mornings by 'making muffins' on my belly or my backside... or by curling up by my head and purring loudly.
First thing in the morning (or after my walk) I'm typically outside on the patio working on my laptop, answering emails, blogging, etc. Spartacus knows that this is 'cuddle time' where I will be in one spot for a bit. Every morning, he jumps onto my lap, 'makes muffins' on my thigh and then curls up for his morning nap. After dinner when I typically catch up on my recorded shows, he will do the same. If I'm not in an appropriate position on the couch, he will whine and yell until I accommodate him. No joke.

When I'm in a show, he mopes in the evenings and harasses Jason until I come home. When I return home after being gone for an extended period of time, he becomes my shadow.
And every night as I fall asleep, he is either snuggled between Jason and I, or draped over us, or against my available side, purring...

It's hard for me to imagine people that don't like animals. I love all my furry babies and I cringe at the thought of any animal being mistreated. The display of what I can only call 'unconditional love' is immense from these "less intelligent" creatures. Granted, the love is sometimes on the condition that they are fed... but I find it impossible not to care for them and love them right back.

I guess in a way, I've already become the crazy cat lady. My children are growing up so fast and it's inevitable that one day, I'll have only my cats (and Jason) to care for and look after. I guess it's a good thing I'm in a relationship with another softie.

However, I think four cats is plenty. More than plenty. I don't see adding to the mix any time soon. Besides, Benedick is still pretty sore about losing his 'only child' status. We now refer to him as "Grumpy Uncle Benny" around the house. He's the only cat I know that does tricks, which I think is awesome.

And on that note, I believe it is time for me to get my day started... I have a strict agenda which requires that I do not leave the house. I'm NOT a Black Friday fan and you probably couldn't pay me to contend with the crazed shoppers and insane traffic. I say probably, 'cuz I'm poor and most likely do have a price... but since no one is offering me money to go shopping today, I'm going to stay home and decorate the house with the kids. Take THAT consumer capitalism!! (Who am I kidding? I'll do most of my holiday shopping online and pay almost full retail price. Whatever. Don't judge me.)

Happy Thanksgiving and a very Happy Holiday season!!!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving... and I have so much to be thankful for.
Today, I'll pick up the kids after a half-day of school and bring them home where we'll go through homework that needs to be completed over their break and start on some of the baking and cooking for tomorrow.
Thanksgiving was always a huge family affair growing up. I can remember spending the holiday at my Grandma's house with tables and chairs set up all around the backyard and a huge buffet of dishes in every shape and color - the favored recipes of family members always being included. Dave and Lynn's fruit salads, Susie's pies and cheesecakes... cousins and second-cousins, the pastor and his wife, foreign exchange students and other temporary family adoptees. Huge.
As family members began to splinter through divorce as well as marry and procreate the next generation, we began to celebrate separately or in smaller familial groups. Mom had moved to Oregon and our matriarch was no longer planning and hosting for us.
It was then that Jason and I started hosting our own Thanksgiving. It left us flexible with the kids so that they could celebrate both with us and with their dad's side of the family. It also allowed us to cook some of the dishes we wouldn't otherwise (with family taking care of the bulk) and open our home to friends that didn't have families in town with which to celebrate.
My dear friend Scott (Pandora) has been doing the same for years and calling it their 'Annual Peasant's Feast'. They are in Phoenix. We called ours the 'Orphan's Thanksgiving' and hosted at our 'east side' location in Mesa. Equity actors in town on contract, friends and family separated by work, or those just wanting a second helping after their own celebrations were welcome to join in either or both. And one year, Jay and I wrapped up our Orphan's Thanksgiving just in time to make it to the Peasant's Feast ourselves.
I was always very thankful for my large extended family and do sometimes wish that I was still tightly woven into the fibers of it.
But this seems to be the year where 'the best of both worlds' comes to fruition. Tonight, I'll spend some time in the kitchen with the kids and Jay (not all at once, mind you) and tomorrow, the kids will spend time with their dad's side of the family in the early afternoon. I'll pick them up and head to my mom's where we'll combine our efforts and produce a feast fit for kings. The doors are open for anyone on the east side of town who wishes to join us, and we're sure to have a great supply of leftovers for the week.
As is tradition, the cats will get their Thanksgiving treat of smoked salmon. (I know, they're spoiled. Whatev.)
And on Friday... the kids and I will unpack our Christmas decorations. Christina and I will put Jason and David to work while we set out to find a suitable tree.
My adult life hasn't always been one of routine or tradition, but I find that we've settled into our own adaptation of the holidays I once knew. Christina and I will bake cakes, cookies, breads and pastries. David and Jason will make sure the fire is cracklin'. There will be music. And laughter. And love. Family.

I have so very much to be thankful for.

Christina asked for a new phone for Christmas and it turns out that hers is dying anyhow. Well, her phone came in already... so she'll be getting one of her major gifts a bit early. (I'm thankful they're at the age where we can do that kind of thing.)

As I write, there is a purring kitten on my lap, a cool breeze on the patio and steam rising from my mug of hot cocoa. Plus, I'm the current champion (between Jay and I) in both Bejeweled Blitz and Lexulous. Call me boring, but I couldn't be more content.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

The David Blog

Welcome to what has obviously become my weekly blog.

It's so hard to blog daily. I don't have that much on a daily basis that is worth extended discussion or analysis. Plus, with the advent of Facebook and Twitter it seems we all microblog daily. 'Andi Watson is eating jelly beans', 'Andi is beating her children', 'Andi pooped so hard she saw stars'... and so on and so on...

And so it is that this is Thanksgiving week. We had been doing our yearly 'orphan's Thanksgiving' but this year, neither Jason nor myself are doing a show over the holidays nor are we housing or entertaining actors from out of town. (Which has been the norm for about the last 4 years or so now.)
So, we decided that we're still going to open our doors for the holiday (this time at mom's house. Yay!) though we don't expect to have the turnout we did in years prior. We'll see how it goes.

I've done the major Christmas shopping for both Christina and Jason. I just have David left... and will have to be creative in order to cover both his birthday AND Christmas. And not just any birthday, but his 16th. I can't quite believe it. Sixteen years. It's quite a milestone for our family.

To give a little history about David... many know that I had him at a very young age. I became pregnant my senior year of high school. Thankfully, I wasn't showing by graduation... my close friends and family knew I was knocked up, but for the rest of the school (and my teachers) it was business as usual.
My father had kicked me out of his house after learning about the pregnancy and I lived with my mom for the last two months of school with the understanding that I would be on my own once I graduated.
I graduated with honors and set out to find a job that had health benefits to cover prenatal care and the birth. Promptly upon graduating, I started work with AT&T at their call center in Mesa.
Before I could draw my first paycheck, however, my father sold my car to settle debts I owed (for rent and insurance while I was living with him my Senior year). I had tried unsuccessfully to find a roommate situation close to my work... and ended up in a sleazy apartment with a woman who fed her two-year-old day old beans and stale bread. She had no TV or phone and was struggling to make enough money to send to her 'baby daddy' in prison.
My best friend Amanda and her father showed up one evening with a truck to move my possessions out of this woman's apartment and into their home where I lived for the next two months. What a change it was to be surrounded by loving, encouraging friends and family. Two days a week, Amanda got her butt out of bed at the ungodliest of hours to drive me to work. The other three days, I was in the office carpool. Saving my pennies for a deposit on a place to live and hopefully a vehicle of my own eventually. To this day, I still believe I never would have made it without my extended family to take me in.
By July, I had a one-bedroom apartment close enough to work that I could walk there and did so every day. Rain, 116-degree heat, etc... I waddled my happy butt to work every day, thankful that I had made it to a place where I had a home and a future for myself and my child.
I was young enough that I hadn't picked up any horrible habits yet. I didn't smoke, didn't drink, hadn't yet become addicted to caffeine. I ate right, got good rest (what else can you do without cable?) and had my daily half-mile walk to work and back. I was in great health throughout my pregnancy and everything was 'business as usual'...
I finally relented and married David's dad in October of '93 and David was born in December. We lived in my dinky little apartment for about six months before we closed on a cute little house in Chandler and waited for the construction to complete.
It wasn't until David was about nine months to a year old that I began to notice developmental issues. He wasn't developing language or interpersonal communication skills at the rate he should have. We started having him tested for everything his pediatrician requested. Medical professionals deemed that it must be his hearing and suggested he have his tonsils and adenoids removed. The next step would be to put tubes in his ears if that didn't help. Well, his hearing tests came back normal so the next step was more tests. BAER, OAE, CAT scans, neurological tests, etc. Many came back inconclusive. By this time, David was 5 and starting his first year of school. He struggled socially and had horrible tantrums of frustration that stemmed from his inability to communicate. At the time, two of the four pediatricians that we had consulted were suggesting Ritalin or other forms of medicating him to control behavior. I was adamantly against it unless they could prove to me beyond reasonable doubt that it was what he needed. They couldn't. We went back to testing.
Thankfully, we now had the schools, educators, and professionals in child development evaluating David as well. We heard suggestions of many different learning disabilities and social disorders, which is where we first started hearing terms like 'autistic' and 'pervasive developmental disorder'. Woah.
David spent most of his elementary education in 'special ed' classes. It was there that they discovered his mild dyslexia, which helped to explain his difficulty (read stubborn refusal) with reading or writing. Through therapy and the education system, we finally reached a diagnosis of HFA or 'high-functioning autism' with characteristics indicating Asperger's Syndrome.

I went through a long period in which I didn't really discuss David's issues. Most of my closest friends never suspected that David was anything other than a somewhat quiet and awkward kid. Some asked about his odd behaviors and I would explain that he was developmentally disabled or had learning disabilities. It took me a couple of years to actually use the word 'autism'. Because I knew so precious little about it, it was a scary word to me. One that meant my son might never know freedom or independence. The only thing I knew about autism was that Jenny McCarthy was against vaccinating her children because of it.

Fast forward to the present... David is in his Sophomore year of High School. He is now integrated into regular classes (though he spent two months in summer school to make up English credits) and is what they call 'mainstreamed' into the 'normal' adolescent hierarchy. (Though calling high school kids 'normal' is a stretch in any scenario.) He is still awkward and shy, but the last two years have seen leaps and bounds in his development and his ability to engage in both social and solitary situations.
It has been a long road.

He still needs assistance in the kitchen and may not have a driver's license in the very immediate future, but he's learning to be self-sufficient and responsible... one step at a time. He still has a bad habit of accidentally hiding things like the remote control, keys, cell phone chargers, etc.

I'm thankful that we stood by our decision to pursue diagnosis and I'm thankful that David was given a (mostly) normal life. His dad is hard on him, which kills me sometimes. As a mom, I want to protect and shield him from anything unpleasant or difficult. But he is becoming a strong young man and has always been a beautiful, sensitive and loving boy. Now he's 6 feet tall and gangly... and a beautiful, sensitive and loving teen.

David has worked really hard the past few years and 'mainstream' status is his victory over his prognosis. He is now talking about the kinds of jobs he'd like to work at and the things he wants to do with his life as an adult. It's a huge step and brings me great joy to see the small transformations, though this is something he will struggle with all his life.

Next month, he will turn 16. It's mind-boggling to think that it was 16 years ago that I gave birth to this... young man. I laugh, I cry... I run to the mirror to make sure I don't look 50 yet.

We have found mutual forms of communicating with music and laughter. I love to make my son laugh... it is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard in my life.

A week in review...

...because it has been that long since I last blogged. I'm getting bad about it again.

My walking went from daily to sporadic over the weekend. I use the kids as an excuse, but they really aren't one.

So... in the last week... I went on an indy movie audition, had two photo shoots, dressed up as Madonna for an event at the Herberger, had a callback for PT, came down with a nasty cold, and have been working on the belly cast I'm doing for a friend. I have two holiday events coming up and a fundraiser event for Ryan House (ryanhouse.org). It's becoming quite busy, so I'm actually a little relieved that I'm not doing a show right now.

I also grew a few gray hairs this weekend as I put my son behind the wheel of a car for the first time. Oh, heavens! I thought I was going to crap my pants. It quickly changed from a 'driving lesson' into 'a lesson about the brake pedal'. That was all I could handle. Poor kid went around the block at 5 mph because I wouldn't let him put his foot on the gas. My nerves couldn't take it. Baby steps.

And on that note, I am going to baby step my way to bed and hopefully blog a bit more regularly this week.
But I leave you with an oh-so-exciting slideshow of my current work-in-progress.

This is the initial casting... the morning after Kristi and I did it.
Below is after I reinforced it and started sanding the belly.














This is after most of the sanding is done... you can see patches where there are spots that needed to be filled or reinforced.


I'll go through and detail it again and do another coat of primer. It's far from the finished product. We're actually going to paint and decorate this one. So, I'll post pics of the finished product once it's done. :)




TA DA!

The End.

Happy Veterans Day!

I'm getting horrible about blogging... but I did walk today!!
I have 'time' issues. Just not enough time in the day to fit in all of the things I want to do. Grrrr.
I had a wonderful afternoon with my friend Kristi yesterday.
She and I met doing a murder mystery dinner theatre years and years ago (prolly '99 or 2000) and while we haven't done any other shows together since then, we've maintained the kind of friendship that two passionate artists have. She is pregnant with her first child now and due in about two weeks or so. (It's a boy!) So yesterday, we spent the afternoon doing a quick maternity photo shoot and a belly-cast (a plaster casing of her pregnant bust). It was SO much fun to sit and gab about life and family and relationships and people as well as talking shop about theatre and our craft. It was encouraging and uplifting and left me feeling like she had done ME a huge favor by coming over and being a part of my day.
Today is Veterans Day, so the kids are enjoying the beautiful weather and a day off of school with us. We watched Transformers 2 last night and today Christina and I will catch up on SYTYCD... after which, I've got to get back to editing pics and helping David with his report on Ancient Greece for school. joy.
Tomorrow I'm auditioning for an indy movie and doing another shoot and on Friday, I'll be in full-on 'Madonna' gear for a celebrity event which will mark the first of several over the holiday season. Whew!! I don't know how I'd get by without my iphone right now... it is far more organized than I am. Thank god.
And on that note, I must leave blogworld for photoworld and get my butt in gear.

Happy Veterans Day and my personal thanks to all who have served and sacrificed.

Lordy, it's gettin' busy!

So I obviously didn't get a chance to sit down and blog this weekend. And today was really no exception.
I've got a slew of photo shoots going on this week, which means that when I'm not actually shooting, I'm editing. (Not my forte, but I'm getting better.)
Tomorrow I'm doing a maternity shoot and a belly-casting, which I'm very excited about... and am running into Phoenix for a costume fitting before picking up the kids (no school Wednesday) for some family fun-time. Whew! I forgot how frenetic it gets around here during the holiday season.

My daughter needs a new dress for her first official 'formal' dance and my son is about to turn 16 in a month. Now that's a whole 'nother blog altogether!!

I will do my best to keep blogging this week in spite of the hectic schedule. I didn't walk or jog this weekend and felt a little off-kilter as a result. All day Saturday I had the feeling that I had forgotten something or missed something important. By Sunday, I realized that my body had already adopted the new routine and was letting me know.

And now, I must be off to bed so I can wake early enough to extend my distance a bit more.
Happy Monday.

TGIF - Day 5

Woke up late and had to work early this morning, so my 'round the block adventures' will have to take place this evening. I can tell a difference already as I feel a bit antsy this afternoon, but am hoping that multi-tasking on the blog will help keep me temporarily distracted.

This weekend, I will also reluctantly pull out the boxes of Christmas decorations and sift through them to see what has survived the packing and moving. I still refuse to put anything up as it is waaaay too early (for me). But I'm pretty sure some of my Fall decor is mixed in with the batch and that I will display with merriment and joy.

I haven't started Christmas shopping yet. I'm horrible about Christmas shopping. I don't really know how to set a budget or make a definitive list. If I were to cut down my holiday spending it would look something like:
85%: David and Christina
5%: Jason
10%: Everybody else
We've had some really rough holidays in past years. When Jason and I left UoP and went on tour, we made our yearly salary by mid-summer but had a hard time making it last through the winter. Thank goodness for holiday events and corporate gigs! We were scarcely able to put food on the table and relied on the kindness of strangers... well, friends and family, really. My mom would send care packages of groceries, Lois and Brent let us tag along on their Costco membership, Maren surprised us once with bags of goodies... and we bought our stocking stuffers at the Dollar Store. We couldn't afford a tree, so we had a 'Christmas Chair' instead. Yup. A 'Christmas Chair'. The kids and I decorated our big overstuffed chair with tinsel, ornaments and bows. A few years later, we would 'paint' our Christmas Tree on a huge wall mirror and tape the tinsel and ornaments to it, giving at least a 2-D effect.
Because we've been blessed with enough work through the holidays, I think I overcompensate for those earlier years by spoiling the kids as much as possible. They were always such good sports about those sparse Christmases and I think they only brought us closer together as a family.
This year, I'm hoping I can rein myself in a bit. Some of my holiday budget will be going towards David's 16th birthday. Lord. Sixteen. It doesn't seem possible. He deserves something special and has been working really hard this year. He's struggled his entire life with learning disabilities and was finally diagnosed as high-functioning autistic, but has been mainstreamed this year at his High School. He's making some great strides, but still struggles quite a bit with the reading and writing required. Despite a few missteps early in the semester, he has been showing a lot of focus and responsibility and I'm really proud of him.
However, I don't know what to call his birthday... it's a 'sweet sixteen' for a girl... is it a 'super sixteen'?... a 'sick sixteen'?... I'm not hip to the lingo.

And on that note, I'm afraid I must return to the world of editing and brochure-making. Joy.
Happy Opening to all those that are getting ready to open shows this week! And a blessed tech week to those that labor on the precipice.

Day four of the boring blog titles...

Stuck to yesterday's route, which Jay estimates at about a mile and a half to two miles. It still seems a paltry distance, but we've both agreed that we'll be at three miles by next week. That's plenty soon enough.
Have I mentioned my calves ache? Mental note to stretch more didn't really sink in.

Had an audition last night, which was really fun, but could have gone a little better... in any case, I'm glad I went. Had fun with the audition itself and got the chance to catch up with some friends I hadn't seen in a while. Like my pregnant friend Kristi, who is about to pop!! We're doing a maternity photo shoot and a belly-cast next week and I can't wait!!

Kristi and I talked a tiny bit about relationships, which has been the subject of many conversations with friends lately.
One of the wonderful characteristics about my friendship circle is the age range that it encompasses. I have several young friends who are just getting married, many friends that are into their 7th-10th year of marriage or on their second marriage, and several friends who have been married well over 15-20 years. It's interesting to look at the wide demographic and the various states of the relationships they represent.
I've been doing a lot of analyzing lately. Two of my dear friends are at crossroads in their relationships. Both stories are frighteningly similar.... a 'rough time' extended into months and years of financial, emotional, spiritual and physical struggle and as the dust settles, both are left wondering which way is up and why they're even together.
Relationships are hard. Relationships are hard because people are constantly evolving. Constantly learning.
When that happens, habits and routines can change, opinions can change, convictions and ideals can change... until one morning you wake up to find a leftist Liberal in bed where your conservative Republican husband used to be. Or perhaps YOU are now the leftist Liberal feminist and your conservative husband is left to freak out about where his barefoot and pregnant wife disappeared to.
It's difficult to recover sometimes, which is why I think so many marriages end in divorce or succumb to infidelity.
Faith-based marriages aren't always better off, but when the dust settles, the common commitment to God is often a good platform from which a dissenting couple can make a 'leap of faith' in their relationship.
But it's not fool-proof. Obviously.
And people... all of us... are fools.
In our common quest for companionship or the common fear or distaste for living alone, we make mistakes. We enter into relationships without the wisdom or experience to tell us 'how' to make it work successfully. Or we enter into relationships selfishly that just make us feel better about who we are... temporarily.
And it is temporary.
If I had any words of wisdom (which I really don't) I'd tell my friends that 'this too, shall pass'. That going through a 'rough time' in your marriage is normal. Common. There will be friends and family that will listen to you vent and even perhaps over-dramatize your situation; offering quips like, "I can't believe you put up with that!" or "Why do you let him/her treat you like that?" And I don't mean in response to abuse, abandonment or neglect, but in response to something like not putting the toilet seat down or a hot verbal exchange during an argument. It becomes harder to distinguish your emotions from those you've elicited from others... and that just leads to more confusion. Hence mother's warning not to involve friends and family into your private affairs at home.
Trust me... every time Jason and I had a public spat or a long-standing argument, the rumor boomerang came back with news of our dramatic break-up. Even I was over-dramatic about it at times, having grown up in a household where my parents didn't fight or argue much at all. When there was a disagreement, the house simply grew quiet... so the first time Jason raised his voice to me in anger, I was sure we were headed for Splitsville. I did myself a great disservice early in our relationship when I confided in friends that were more interested in sharing my dirty laundry with the gossip chain than helping me analyze and fix it. Gradually, I started seeking wisdom from people I look up to and respect... those who had been in successful relationships... didn't matter if they were 'married' or not. It made a world of difference.

I'm not always 'happy' about what is going on in my life or my relationship. Depends on the day. Sometimes I'm really steamed about the condition of the toilet seat or the state of my bank account. Sometimes Jason is really steamed that he can't find any clean boxers because I've been wearing them around the house all week.
What I can say is that I'm blessed. Blessed to have a car in the garage, a roof over my head, food on the table, a relationship with a man who loves me deeply, blessed to have a family that laughs and sings and talks to one another. Blessed to be part of a community that encourages others to continue learning and creating and evolving... regardless.
The 'rough times' are just that. Rough times. It's temporary. And without those rough times, we'd never appreciate the good stuff.

That's all I've got.

Speaking of blessings, though... we will be once again hosting our annual 'Orphan's Thanksgiving Pot Luck' again this year. I guess this will also technically count as our 'housewarming' since we've only hosted small private parties since moving into our new home on the east side. (represent)
I will post details on Facebook and in specific emails once we nail down times and such.

I'm sure I have a few construction-paper hand-Turkeys (circa 1999) to display around here.
And then I've gotta get my booty in gear for this dag-nabbed Christmas thingie everyone's talking about. Oy. Should probably get into the garage next week and haul out the half-smashed decorations.

Watson out.

Day three... and let the rumpus begin!

Got a late start, but went further today than yesterday. Jason is being very good not to mock what is still a remedial fitness regime at best. My calves are still tight. But at my age, I'm thrilled to be able to say that anything is tight. So, go me!

It is already doing wonders for my mood, though. I haven't been nearly as grumpy and grumblesome as I typically am before noon. I guess that's a good thing. :)

Have a callback this evening at PT and I'm woefully underprepared. Here's to hoping that flying by the seat of my pants will spark some genius creativity. Woo Hoo!

I'm going to try to find some time to blog a bit more this evening. For now, I need to shower, prep and run some errands. Run. Oy.

New Routine (Day 2)

Went further today, but didn't run. Kept it at a brisk walk. My calves are a little tight today, indicating that I probably need to stretch more. Mental note taken.

I've been thinking a lot about Scotty J.
He was a wonderful human being and a tremendous talent in our theatre community. He passed very suddenly on Saturday night and the entire extended theatre family is still reeling from the loss.
I never got the chance to bond with Scotty as castmates often do over common projects. I met Scotty at karaoke several years ago... and then again at auditions... and again through common friends over drinks... until we just naturally greeted each other with a hug or a smile and a 'weenky-face' across a room. He was always gracious, never pretentious.
I've slowly realized that my relationship with many people in the theatre community doesn't extend much further than my relationship did with Scotty.
I'll make a sincere admission that I keep people at arm's length... emotionally, personally, etc. Sure, I share stories and quips and anecdotes about my life, but I typically don't get 'close' to people. Perhaps some of this stems from a lifestyle in which my 'co-workers' change every two months or so. Perhaps some of this is a result of disappointments or perceived betrayals. Regardless the reason, it's not my preference.
As friends move away and acquaintances leave this life before they're given the chance to be friends; I'm humbled by those who have touched my life, however fleeting it may have been. For a while now, I have viewed every relationship as a potential heartbreak. If I don't get close, I won't grieve the loss when they're gone. But it also means I don't celebrate them while they're here.
To my friends who have reached out and made the greatest of efforts to keep me in your life (even though I don't call, don't return emails, or don't show up), I sincerely apologize for being such a shit. I have been hurting and grieving over the last two years or so and it has affected every relationship I have and has prevented relationships from healing and/or growing. My 'self-preservation mode' really is nothing more than selfish. I do get busy with work and the kids and my sincere desire to have our personal 'family time', which has become sacred to me. But I can certainly make more of an effort than I have been lately. Especially to those friends who have been so near and dear to me through such rough times.
Jason, Kaitlin, Richard, Nathalie, Amanda, Mandy, Roland, Trey, Doc, Jimmy P, Keath, Erika, Rachael, Johanna, Tracy, Franc, Geoff, Ammy, David and Christina... I love you guys so much. Thanks for sticking with me... even when I'm an asshat.
Day Two.
Done.

The New Routine (Day 1)

My Uncle Matt has cancer. My Aunt Cheryl has cancer. My mother lost her thyroid and two lymph nodes to cancer when I was very young. Her mom (my "Nanny") and her aunt (my "Mamo") lost their lives to cancer.
You would think I'd know better than to ever pick up a cigarette. But I did. In a rebellious phase after my divorce, I promptly got a tattoo, had my belly-button pierced, and took up smoking. All habits and characteristics that my ex-husband had expressed distaste for. I don't regret the tattoo. The belly-button piercing closed up the first time I had to remove my ring to wear a corset for six weeks. I regret ever picking up a cigarette.
As an artist, I don't always lead a very disciplined lifestyle. I'm disciplined about my work and rigorous with my 'off-hours', devoting a good amount of time to learning lines and researching text, setting, character, etc. But I am not disciplined about my diet, my physical routine, or just how I treat my body in general. As soon as a show closes, I can guarantee to put on 5-10 pounds. (I love my gelato!) When I begin rehearsals, I shed that 5-10 pounds during the rehearsal process, keep it off during the production, and promptly put it back on after the show has closed. Rinse and repeat. It's not the healthiest yo-yo and I'm not at the age where I can sustain that kind of back and forth without having to also nurse weak ankles, aching knees and a knotted back.
My Uncle Matt had begun to train for marathons with his wife when he received his cancer diagnosis. I haven't really had the chance to talk to him about it at length, but he has been on my mind a lot as I read his blog and chuckle at his Facebook updates. He and his wife (Syria) are both talented performers in their own right and I'm honored to be able to say that I performed onstage with both of them years ago. (And still dream of giving my aunt a run for her money should I ever get the chance to play Mrs. Shinn or Yente. She's an amazing character actress and was way too young for either role when she played them, but was brilliant!) I guess one of my biggest faults is that I don't often open up and tell people how inspirational they have been to me personally or spiritually or artistically. Matt and Syria encompass all three.
And so it is that I started talking to Jason about our routine and lifestyle. After joking about whether or not we should all shave our heads for Christmas, we decided instead to pay homage by breaking some habits and starting a routine.

This morning, I woke up and put on my sporty shoes. And ran.

I didn't run far and I didn't run long. But I did it.

I'm hoping that with the increase in water consumption and the cessation of smoking that the wheeze will go away... or at least not kick in at the first 20 yards... and while I can't promise to cut out the caffeine, I suspect it will be on a gradual decline.
Jay and I already love to cook for each other and take great pride in being able to grab tufts of our own organic herbs (growing on the window sill) and fresh veggies from the corner market to whip up something healthy and fun. Extra points if it's ethnic cuisine! Our one big indulgence is sushi, which we save for special occasions. Or make up special occasions for. Whatever. Don't judge me. A morning walk/run is the next logical step in a healthier lifestyle.

It is my hope to also incorporate a little more time for blogging in my routine. For starters, because I really do love to write... and because it will help keep me accountable. It's also a nice way to document observations like seeing my neighborhood up-close and personal with it's droopy-faced pumpkins and limp ghosts on the webbed walkways, and the first wreath of the season on someone's front door, the window of which bore a yellow ribbon... the dogs, the kids, the fellah working on his truck...

They say the hardest part of running is making it out the door. I personally think the hardest part is the actual 'running' part... but what do I know? I'm new at this.
Thanks, Uncle Matt... for helping me make it out the door. And thanks, Jason... for keeping me motivated.
Day One.
Done.