New Traditions

I posted earlier about my family Christmas traditions (zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz) and my favorite missed Christmas traditions (with Michael) ...

And now on to my new Christmas traditions.

My first Christmas in LA doesn't count; I actually went home. It was the first "holiday season" without my mom and I went home for Thanksgiving AND Christmas in an effort to try and make things "normal" for him. Well, all of you who have lost a family member know: there is no "normal". Nothing will ever be the same. You can only go forward and create a new normal.

Lesson learned.

In 2001, my dad opted to come to me for the holidays. I think he figured out the whole lack of normal thing too (God forbid we should talk about it) and he wanted something different, too.

We figured it would just be Dick, my dad and me, so we were trying to figure out which restaurants might be open on Christmas day for a good meal. I posted this question on Wolfesden (precursor to the Celluloid Curtain). In addition to the suggestions, I got a query from my pal Eric: "Could I join you?"

One thing led to another, and we suddenly had a large enough group that we decided to skip the restaurant, and do a potluck Christmas. Bon and Keith were housesitting, so we all gathered there. Keith made the turkey; everybody else brought stuff. In addition to my dad, Dick, Bonnie, Keith and me, there was Barry and Fabiana, and Rose, and Wayne ... who else was there that first year? Was that it?


It was wonderful. It was the best way to spend the day.

My father even said - no kidding - that it was much more fun than our family Christmases past.

So ... the next year he said, "We're doing the same thing, right?"

Well of course!

I hosted at my place on Palms, with Keith and Bon coming over early so Keith could make the turkey. It was the same cast of characters, with the addition of baby John Angelo Carver; also Shelley joined us for the first time. And surprise of surprises for me - my pal Jesse from high school turned up on my front door! (He had said he'd be in town for the holiday, and I told him to let me know if he could make it ... and I didn't hear from him til I opened my door and shrieked with delight!) And Kyle joined us that year too. Pictures are here.

As a side note ... you know those friendships that go back so far and so deep ... that years can go by, and then you see each other, and it's like no time has passed? ... yeah. That's Jess.

2003, Dick and I were living together, and we hosted at our place on Federal. Keith was away with family that year, so Dick made his first turkey ever. This was the first year Karen joined us as well. And Eitan dropped by for a while. You can see photos here.

2004, Dick and I had just moved into the condo, so there was no way we could host amongst the boxes. Shelley took over hosting duties, with us going over early so Dick could cook the turkey. It was a huge shindig that year - I couldn't even begin to name the people! And plus we were so fried from moving that it was all a blur to me. Pictures are here.

2005, we hosted our first married Christmas here at the condo. This was, sadly, the fisrt year my dad passed on the event; having come out here in August for the wedding, he was all travelled out for the year. We put up a photo of him on the piano, so he'd be with us in spirit.

And here we are, 2006. I cannot tell you how much I love that we do this. I don't see these people as often as I'd like, but I love knowing I can count on this. Here are a few photos from this year:







I love my friends.

Happy Holidays, y'all. :)

PS - a shout out to Bon, who has all of the photos except 2005 on her website. I only graduated to digital recently, so my photos are in a box. Yay Bon, for being so wonderfully organized!!!!!!

Too cute not to post

We have many oodles of photos of our dog. Yes, we've become Those People.

But this is too cute not to share. He recently went to the groomer's, and went from this (taken a month or two ago - our little fuzz face napping in the sun):



To this:



Yes, they put a Christmas bandana on him.

When he was first rescued from wherever he was rescued from (I'm unclear as to whether it was the pound, or the family that mistreated him), he was brought to a groomer who declared him "evil".

Knowing what I know about him now - let's just say he has "personal space issues" - I can certainly see how that might have been the judgement made.

That said, this past summer we did have to take him to be groomed, and we looked high and low for the best place to take him. We found a place where the owner is, we were told, especially good with rescue dogs with issues.

We were not disappointed! Twice we've gone now, and not once employee has a scratch on them. ;)

And isn't he a handsome devil?

Christmas rituals

I never had a particularly spectacular family Christmas. We certainly had our rituals ... but they weren't particularly ... fun.


It was a two-day affair. First, we'd all gather at my aunt's on Christmas Eve. There would be many cocktails, cocktail party chatter, and the opening of presents.

On Christmas Day, we'd go back. More idle conversation, followed by dinner, followed by more idle conversation.

You have to understand: my family are generally not talkers. The ones who drink tend to get a bit loud and talky after a while ... but the rest of the time ... strained silence.

Of course there was the year that we passed the phone around to say "Merry Christmas" to my cousin who was in jail ... ah the memories.

I am, as many of you know, an only child. My parents had me late in life. As a result, in my immediate family, there is no one my age. My dad's sister had kids 15 years before me; one of them had kids 7 years after me. I had no one to talk to.

When I was around 15, my cousin (the one with the kids) started realizing I was finally old enough to talk to, and we started developing an actual relationship. We'd go in the back bedroom and just hang out and talk, which thrilled my mother no end (because she knew I was acutely bored) but my aunt actually got angry and would make us come back and join the silence in the front room. Wheee.

As an adult, I started breaking away from the two-day marathon. My time spent at Christmas Eve got shorter and shorter, until I ditched it altogether. And this was my new Christmas Eve ritual:

I'd go over to Michael's house, and we'd trade presents. We'd hang out there maybe 10-15 minutes, because he had three cats at the time, and with my allergies, that was about all I could handle.

From there, we'd go to Sandy's party, which she threw every year. It was a huge event, with enough food for an army. Occasionally, we'd actually know someone besides Sandy who was there. The running joke, every year, was that she'd greet us with: "Hi!!!! Oh, you know who you just missed ... ?"

We'd eat, we'd drink, we'd visit with whoever we DID get to see.

From there, we'd head over to our favorite bar.

We'd pull up barstools, and the bartender would serve us our drinks without our even needing to order. Usually, our pal Marc would be there too - of course that was always a safe bet, there. And the three of us would sit there, looking back on the year, and trading sob stories about just how pathetic we were that we were sitting around that bar on Christmas Eve.

It was always a good night.

And I was always in a much better frame of mind to deal with the family in silence the next day. (Of course, over the years and past a certain age, I learned that wine with the dinner also helped immeasurably). :)

I certainly enjoy all of my traditions in LA ... and of course love holidays with my husband. But those times I get a little nostalgic about New Orleans - Christmas Eve is on the top of my list.

Thank you, Gas Company.

For a situation so absurd I could do nothing but burst into laughter.

We've been living here for two years. Some of the utilities are in my name, some in Dick's. For two years, we've paid our bills on time.

Suddenly, I get a notice in the mail from the Gas Company, that essentially says:
"Hi there! We were checking the meters, and see that you've been using gas. However, we have no account for you. Please set one up as soon as possible to avoid disruption in service."

No account? What's that thing we've been paying for two years?

My dear husband offers to call on Monday to say "what's up?"

Imagine his surprise when their explanation is that ... according to their records, I am deceased.

And they were pretty sure about it too. Said that kind of information has to go through several people. And that they had called to verify it.

He called me at work to inform me of this fact. This is when I burst into hysterical laughter. As did my boss, when I told her.

I will skip the boring middle bits, where he had to keep going up the chain of command at the Gas Company, insisting that someone produce this alleged death certificate. And finally! The answer.

When I sent in a change of name form, along with a copy of my marriage license, someone somewhere got confused and decided it was a death certificate.

Never mind that I sent in a clear, concise form explaining the name change. Never mind that there are TWO names on the marriage license - the first of which is not mine.



Nope. They declared me dead.

Our utility company at work!