Overheard: Overnight

I just picked up Ben from an overnight lock-in at his high school.


Me: "Did you get any sleep at all?"

Ben: "No."

Me: "What did you do all night?"

Ben: "Avoided getting penises drawn on my face."

Me (after I recovered from laughter): "Did anyone sleep?"

Ben: "One guy did. He covered his face, so they drew it on his hand."


Do girls ever do stuff like this? Not in my experience.

Emerging

My reaction to negative stress is to hide. That’s what I’ve been doing since before I returned home from Florida. The visit to help my parents took much more out of me than I ever expected.

I was honestly glad to be able to be there, to help in a way that was needed. Trouble is, my parents aren’t quite ready for that help; at least Mom isn’t. She’s 89 years old and she retired from work as a travel agent the week I was there. She begrudged the idea that anyone felt I was needed there, but she didn’t let on for the first week, acting as though everything was just great. Then she exploded with resentment and it took all the wind out of me.

I think I understand her panic at having to face less independence. It would shake my world too. I know that I won’t fully understand until it hits me right between the eyes.

Meanwhile, my stepfather very much wants my help and is comforted knowing I’m willing to participate in their planning for the future. This is a fine line I walk.

This is happening at a time when a lot is going on elsewhere. Thank heaven my home life is just great, with the normal ebb and flow of things to fix and joys to celebrate. I need to find how this new responsibility will fit in with all the other aspects of my life.

My modus operandi is to grab moments to myself for respite. It surprised me that the “moments” I needed lasted about two weeks. This is not depression—I know whereof I speak on that. It is a quiet time of processing, of limiting intake. But I know to give it time to sort itself out, and now I’m returning with the energy to face all of life once again. I have several topics about which to write. I hope to get to each of them soon.

The sun is out, and I emerge into the light once again.

Today On Bilerico: Carol Boltz: Straight To The Point

Some time ago, I wrote an article about two women who were married to men who came out at the top of their careers. Jemma Thomas and Carol Boltz were women of grace, defending their husbands in the face of strong criticism. Through that story, I reconnected with Carol's blog. She lives an hour away, so I sent her an email asking if she would be willing to meet with me and talk.

This article is the result of that meeting.

Cilantro, The Evil Weed

I hate cilantro. I can't understand why it's the Herb of the Decade. I literally cannot eat a dish that has too much cilantro in it. (Ask my sister-in-law, who asked if I like garlic—"Yes!"—and then proceeded to chop a bundle of fresh cilantro over a perfectly good plate of garlic shrimp pasta. Couldn't touch it.)

The New York Times has an explanation for people like me. I'm not alone!

Today On Bilerico: Mitchell Gold: Fighting The Crisis Of Religious Bigotry

Remember the story I posted about using Mitchell Gold's book Crisis as an introduction to understanding for a friend of mine? That post caught the attention of Brent Childers, the executive director of Faith In America, Gold's foundation for LGBT equality. Through an interesting series of connections, I ended up being able to do an email interview with Mitchell. His answers were so eloquent and clear they needed nothing more from me. We didn't want to cut a single word, so Bilerico is posting it in two parts. Read Part One to see just how dedicated this man is to his very worthy cause.

Update: Part Two is up.

Comic Relief

Surprise Kitten Pen Attack

Verbatim: Big Box

I'm in Florida. Abe and Sheba are in California. Ben is alone and eighteen. (What could possibly go wrong?) Ben was home when a package was delivered.

April 7, 2010 6:22 PM
A big Woot box came. What is it

April 7, 2010 6:24 PM
Sheba's Christmas present. Pls put it in basement under the stairs. Thx. Sorry nothing exciting.

April 7, 2010 6:24 PM
Lame

Update: I returned home eleven days later. The box was on the sofa.

Just Checking In

Guys, it's crazy around here. I'm working ten-hour days all of a sudden, to prepare to leave for ten days to go home. Of course, it's Holy Week. Holy cow.

My parents are not doing well. My stepdad had a stroke, Mom is mentally fading, and my sister is crumbling under the burden of caring for them. I will be going down to ask the hard questions about future care, living wills, and their ability to handle the fading years ahead. My stepfather is getting therapy with a reasonably good prognosis; we're going to have to wrestle the car keys from Mom's tight grasp; and we've got to find new avenues for care and transportation, since my sister obviously cannot do this alone.

Abe and Sheba will be heading out to the west coast for a few days. That means Ben will be alone. During spring break. Temptation, anyone? We are going to have to trust him to set his own boundaries. He's eighteen. Deep breath.

So my posting will be light as I garner all the facts and inform all the siblings (eight, in this blended family). At least there will be sunlight and heat.

Today On Bilerico: Starting Over

You never know when it will hit: the muse for writing. I was in the car listening to NPR when a passing remark—I can't even tell you what it was—prompted me down a trail of thought about starting over. Memories stirred about a number of times I've begun anew. You can read about it here.

Nature By Numbers

This is a beautiful illustration of the patterns found in nature, explained mathematically.



Hat tip to Towleroad