The Clubhouse

The sign on the door does not read 'No Girls Allowed' but it's definitely a boys' hangout. A pool table, 2 flat screen TVs, free wifi, BYOB and the smell of cigar smoke wafting through the air. It's the new cigar lounge/store just a few minutes from my house. Buy a cigar and stay as long as you like.

Men and boys of all ages enjoy getting together to brag, lie and tell stories. This was no exception. I sat in the background watching the second half of the game and chuckled at all the whoppers that were being told. It was nice.

Sad But Thankful

I glanced over at my father after everyone had been served. It was the moment I had been dreading all week - the moment Mom would've normally said grace. She always spoke before the meal, and often cried. Sara and I had talked about what we should do this year. I'm not a prayer but I thought we should acknowledge Mom's absence at the table and remember her blessings of meals past. I looked at my father and he caught my eye and nodded.

I thought he was nodding to say, "I'm okay. We're all okay." In the next moment it became clear to me that he had been thinking about this moment, and perhaps anticipating the awkwardness himself. He opened his mouth and simply stated thanks for family, and togetherness. He expressed gratitude for so many years with my mother. It only lasted a few seconds but I will remember it for a long time.

Turkey was devoured. (I didn't even make it through 1 plate.) The kids giggled. The adults laughed. Later we ate pie and played games. It was a fun time, but part of me just wanted the day to end.

I missed my mother today from the moment I awoke. I've had mood swings all day long - from jubilant to melancholy. I've fondly recalled Thanksgiving from years past. I missed the sound of my Mom's laughter around the dinner table. The holidays were always her favorite time of year, and once her frustration bubbled over then settled down there was always plenty of laughter.

Sara and I hosted our first family Thanksgiving. It was a small, simple, fun, somber, and intimate affair. We did not serve rutabaga this year... sorry Mom!

2 Years & Counting

Yesterday was our 2nd Wedding Anniversary. Cotton or Calico or something like that. Once again Sara and I braved the mean streets of Downtown Annapolis, and wined and dined the night away. We ate at Aqua Terra. Sushi, duck pot stickers and bison burgers! It was an interesting, intimate meal.

It's funny to think about the first 2 years of our marriage. Many things have changed, plans have been altered, and loved ones lost. We still meet all challenges hand in hand; together.

And Cue the 'Taps'!

Another show is over. TRACERS closed earlier tonight, and I'm unsure how to feel about it. Our last performance felt a little off, but the audience seemed to like it, and it ended all the same. There's always the sadness when a show ends, and the happiness that you have your evenings back but this time it's a little difference.

I have grown to really like and respect this cast and crew. Sure we went through a rough patch right before opening but that's in the past. The show wasn't quite the play I had anticipated, but I have thoroughly enjoyed performing this script and sharing the stage with a great, diverse group of guys. I like everyone in the show, and it's been a while since I could say that about a production.

I will miss being a part of this show! I will miss the 2 characters that I can now add to my resume. I will miss the cast-bonding, and the ball-busting! I will miss my Brother's In Arms! It has been an adventure!

Sometimes It Feels Good To Be Busy...

... Sometimes it feels good to sit on your ass and do nothing.

This past weekend I opened a show - Tracers. Filmed a clean energy commercial. (Stay tuned for more details.) Auditioned for a show. Then started off the week with 2 days of double shifts, splitting time between my 2 jobs.

I am looking forward to tomorrow. I am off. I have a callback for the audition in the evening, and I may go in to the restaurant tomorrow to take my 'Server Test' so I can start making some money but other than that I'm free. Oh, and we have to clean the house since we'll be hosting Thanksgiving this year, plus my 2 year Wedding Anniversary is next week and I should try and plan something special...

I need a nap.

Tracers' Opening Night!

Tonight Is Opening Night! 7 actors will step out onto the stage, brave the spotlight and try to transport the audience back to the Vietnam Conflict! It's been a rough rehearsal process. We lost a soldier early on, and fought many small battles along the way. Tonight we'll see what happens!
'All right, get with your team leader. Team leader'll keep you alive, you keep him alive. We all come home alive. Lock and load! Let's get outta here and do this thing.'

A Good Day To Be Sad!

It was a beautiful day - a bit chilly in the morning but as the sun rose over Washington DC the day warmed up a little. I was downtown with my family participating in the Gynecologic Cancer Foundation's 'Race To End Women's Cancer'.
It's been 4 months since my mother passed away from Ovarian Cancer. It's hard to believe that it's only be 4 months. She had planned on walking in the event; she liked to plan ahead. My family went down and walked in her memory, along with several of her friends, and colleagues. We were all members of 'Team Sue'.

It was a beautiful day. There were many smiles, many tears, and too many hugs to count. We walked the 3K and then milled around the plaza sharing memories, taking pictures, and eating bananas. It was a day that I knew my mother would've enjoyed. There were many times during the course of the day when I longed to hear her laugh. Many times during the day when I know she would've been laughing, smiling and enjoying the event.

It's the combination of the grief and the happiness that often gets to me. Yesterday Sara, Bert and I walked around the city. We ate lunch, and had a few cocktails and then walked around the National Mall. We visited the monuments and the memorials. We had a good time but it made me think of visiting DC as a child and having my mother with us. We, the family, went out for dinner last night with my Aunt Anne, Mom's sister, and we had a good meal and enjoyed ourselves. I missed having my Mom at the table with us. Even as we were enjoying ourselves we were missing her. At the race today as people were talking to me about her we all smiled, and laughed but the tears were there, too.

It was a good day to walk the race. It was a good day to be with family. It was a good day to remember my mother. It was, indeed, a good day to be sad.

Oldladyphobia!

Okay, so it's not very PC of me! It's honest.

Old ladies skeeve me out sometimes! It's true. Now I'm not talking about younger vibrant yoga '60 is the new 50' women, I mean the witch ladies. Old, crabby, self-entitled, moth-ball smelling cranks! Old men I'm fine with; maybe because one day I'll be one and can identify on some level but I'm just bothered by old biddies!

I just am. Sorry if that offends but it's mostly true. There are exceptions, of course. I know several older women who do not curdle milk when they walk into a room. They smile, hug, and show genuine affection. There are those though that give me goosebumps, and cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end, however. They glower! They skulk! They demand! They condescend! That's what gets me the most, I think.

I deal with old ladies everyday at the part time job I have. They come in and haggle over prices, suspiciously eye me when I offer assistance, and then demand special treatment. The other day there was a woman in a wheelchair - a manual deal - and she was parked in front of the entrance to the stockroom where I needed to go. She was in my way but was annoyed with me when I asked to get by. Then she was muttering to herself as she backed up, and I tried to reassure her by saying, 'You're doing pretty good.'

'Well. I'm doing pretty Well!'

REALLY? I was offering you some reassurance as you back up, trying to be positive with you, and supportive as you maneuver out of the traffic jam you have caused and you correct my grammar? My grammar? You're going to correct my grammar as I stand here holding boxes of product waiting for you to quit causing a fire hazard! Then you'll look at me with a twinkle in your eye as if to say, 'Did you hear what I did? I corrected your grammar, you young scalawag! That's my right, as a senior citizen!'

The goosebumps appear, the neck hair rises, and I grit my teeth. Mrs. Heckleman! I think maybe I can trace it to a teacher I had as a child. She was capital M Mean! She was harsh, gravelly-voiced, and I now realize she smelled of cigarettes and scotch, I believe. She terrorized me that year and ever since then if I see an old lady with a walker, or a couple grannies shuffling down the sidewalk I quickly cross the street, and lower my head.