BBM: The Christmas Edition or How I'll Miss My Aunt Philis

Well, the most notable thing to happen this holiday season is I had to disown my aunt. I feel really sad about it since she's the last of my grandmother's children, the last solid connection to my Mom, but it had to be done. I'm going to miss her. She's a great aunt - one of those who is very sweet and funny - a joy to be around type - the rock of the family; you'd like her.

Of course, I fully appreciate that this act is going to leave me in a bit of an aunt bind, so I'm going to be auditioning for a new aunt.

What I'm looking for is someone in their mid-60's, about 5'2" with a big smile who can put on puppet shows or maybe one act plays for birthdays - none of this singing. Who wouldn't agree that a birthday party wouldn't be 100 times more entertaining if the guests spontaneously burst out into a puppet show? (One of those well-rehearsed, everyone-knows-their-lines performances where the guests are holding professionally made/visually engaging puppets that require at least three handlers to manipulate - think the Lion King stage production of birthdays. Picture it, your guests dressed in black, as to not be distracting, and suddenly they spring up in unison and they're manipulating large puppets telling a birthday story. How is this not the greatest birthday idea ever?) I'm sorry, but if you're one of those singing aunts, you'll have to shop for another family. If you're the type that suddenly feels the urge to stand up in a crowd and lead choral lemmings in a round of "Happy Birthday," then I'm sure you'll find work elsewhere. I hear some restaurants are very big on eager birthday singers and you might even land at one where you get to bang things or whoop. Who doesn't like whooping? You're probably a good little whooper!

If you know of any out-of-work aunts looking for an aunt gig who have any puppeteering talent, please send them my way.

(Note: Inside joke - I'm actually not giving up my aunt for the holidays. Well... not yet. There are still a few more days until Christmas and my actual birthday.)

Birthday Stroll 2008

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Originally uploaded by AprilB

As you know, I was born on Christmas... yes, I do still mean the actual day (just like I did last year). It's not some sad plea for attention, I mean the 25th. Not Christmas the 27th or Christmas on January 3rd, but the day when our family happens to celebrate Christmas and that happens to be on the 25th. I'm not faulting you, if you celebrate on the 23rd. I just happen to be born on the day when my Gregorian calendar says it's Christmas, but I understand if you're more of a lunar calendar sort or you prefer to use the Nones, the Ides, and the Kalends to get a feel for your days. (Oh you people, you say you never learn anything from these posts. Honestly.)

Anyway,this isn't about the actual day, which is still on Christmas Day (psst, December 25th). It's about the birthday celebration and my friend April (whose picture I'm stealing for the blog).

For the past three years, I've been lucky enough to have a Birthday Planner - April B. We've bowled for trolls (where everyone who got a strike got to choose a surprise from "the bag of Mystery" oooo). We celebrated an "0" birthday with steak and highly personalized gifts (which still rank among my favorite presents - from the haikus to the shadow box) and this year was the Birthday Stroll, which took us from Mangia's Pizza to the 37th Street Lights and back around to Amy's Ice Cream. (If you're not from Austin, let me highly recommend that you put Mangia's and Amy's on your "to do" and if you find yourself here at Christmas, skip the Trail of Lights (which is an advertisement for groups like Dell and Motorola) and head down to 37th Street - sure, it's not what it used to be, but it's still pretty darn fine). We had a long procession of friends and family and family who are my friends trailed down the street ooo-ing and ahhh-ing down one of the best block in Austin at Christmas.

Thank you to all who were able to come and celebrate another year with me. Thank you for your kind thoughts and gifts. And a huge thanks to April for making another birthday special (where I got to be the "Birthday Princess" and to Kendra for the 80's music videos and Abba. (It was actually hard to follow conversations at times, because I'd get distracted by groups like Alphaville. My apologies if I zoned out on anyone.)

Maddie - Guitar Goddess

From my Guitar Hero collection:
Anna's daughter Maddie rockin' out! (Blame her momma for the blurry picture.)
(There's a great video with the whole family - Anna & Maddie on guitar with 3 year old Nathan on drums, but I have to have the "go" from Anna to post and I'm thinking I'm not getting the "go". Plus, she can hurt me - so no sneaking it on. :( )

And... (Wishlist pt. 2)

... I want a video of Anna rocking out on Guitar Hero on her Wii. I don't care who gives it to me.

All I Want for Christmas

Yeah, we've covered it before - I was born on Christmas... the day. (Why people always follow my announcement of being born on Christmas with the question "the day?" still baffles me "no, I mean "Christmas" the themepark ride; it was uncomfortable and the family doesn't like to talk about it much". And, I'll say it, it's my OH MY GOD I'M TURNING FORTY I'M MAKING METHUSELAH LOOK LIKE A TODDLER IT'S ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE landmark.

So, since the world is coming to an end as I know it in just one short month, it's ok for me to be greedy AND demanding (AND melodramatic). With that in mind, I'm posting my birthday wishlist. Some of you may have received it already in an e-mail, but just in case I zoned your e-mail address or you're too far away to come, I'm posting the "list" here, because I'd like everyone to participate.

It boils down to: I want a picture of you/your family and something personal "of" you - a note, a photo you've taken, a poem you've written, a picture you've drawn, a CD (originally my thinking was just TWO songs that represented you in this moment, but you can send more) - you get the idea and there are more ideas on THIS HERE LINK (the official ask for presents list).
For mailing instructions, send April an e-mail (included in the pdf) and she'll give you the address, etc.

Don't feel pressured in any way to participate just because I'LL BE DEAD IN FIVE SHORT YEARS THANKS TO MY ADVANCED AGE - you can live with the guilt. You're resilient. I won't curse your name... much. You probably like kicking puppies, too. Senior hatin' puppy kickers - go on, live with that knowledge. I HOPE YOU SLEEP WELL TONIGHT!

A Meaningful Question

In college, everyone had “that” professor – the one person who did more than most to introduce them to a new world view, shape their ideas, get them excited and inspired about education. I was lucky in that I had three: Dr. Louis H. Mackey, who taught me a little about Ethics, Dr. Michael Adams who tried to teach me Advanced Expository Writing (blame him - he's the one who passed me) and Dr. Richard C. C. Kim who got me so excited about Political Science that I thought I should make it my major. Little did I know that what he taught me had more to do with philosophy than politics.

I took every class that Dr. Kim taught, sitting at his feet in my mind trying to absorb everything he said. I wasn’t Dr. Kim’s best student by far, but that didn’t stop me from eagerly anticipating each class in a vain attempt to will myself to be more like Dr. Kim. He was one of “those” professors - the one other students warned you not to take, but you knew better than to heed their warnings. With his offbeat teaching style and radical views, he was a far cry above the professors who merely wanted you to “read chapter 3 and answer the questions at the end of the section.” In fact, most of my core beliefs about politics and political philosophy come from this man and his out of print book “Kimbrations: Reflections of a Philistine”.

We students spent a lot of time in “Plato’s Cave” (a room filled with articles and books set aside by Dr. Kim to study politics and philosophy) looking for truths and looking for meaningful questions. To Dr. Kim, a meaningful question was not “how are you doing?” (He would argue that the person who asked had no actual interest in how you were actually doing, he just wanted to hear the word “fine” so he could shuffle down the hall and be done with the social obligation.) In fact, if you made the mistake and asked Dr. Kim how he was doing, he would tell you exactly how he was doing, which was always a bit startling because it was never “fine” or “well”. Dr. Kim’s example of a bad question would be, “what color is my underwear?” He would state (and I hope I’m doing this justice after 20 years) that because it was a very answerable question, it was not worthy of being asked. The kinds of questions he was looking for took some thought. Those were good questions; the kind that forced you to think.

What this all is leading to is my birthday and the present that I want from my friends/family. Since it's a 0 birthday, I'm allowed to do something a little different. I want to ask my friends and family a few questions that they answer and give to me as a birthday present, but I’m stumbling because I can’t think of truly "good" questions. I want something beyond those e-mail chains of “What is your favorite color?” “What is your favorite movie?” or “What color is your underwear?” – while they are arguably interesting (depending on whose asking) they don’t really tell me much about you. I want to know you.

So, I’m asking you as my readers. What is a good question to you? (Seth? Tony? Lori? Pam?) - something Dr. Kim or the metaphoric blind man, Johnny Alameda, that Dr. Kim invoked in many a class, would see as good.

Save the Date (Unofficial Version)

It’s creeping up on my birthday again and it’s a big one – one of those that end in a big fat 0.
This birthday is going to be celebrated in two parts – the first part will be devoid of the big “to-do” – no one has to skate (unless they want to!) or bowl and there won’t be a “bag of mystery” to select prizes from. NOPE! (I promise we’ll get back to that next year.) In fact, this first part will actually be held on a Saturday instead of the traditional Tuesday.

This year we’re looking at hanging out in a steak house for a couple of hours. Yes, since it’s a 0 birthday, I get to have barely cooked cow with a side of cow and cow sprinkles. If you’re sensitive about cow eating, I’m sorry, but cows are yummy and with the right sauce I’d dare say they’re heaven. Mmm cow, how I love thee. You can have a roll.

I’m announcing this now because you need to cancel plans with your own families over the holidays; you can see them next year. Better still, fly/drive/run on Sunday because this is going to be on December 22nd.

Now in case you can’t make it. That’s ok. As you all know, I don’t hold a grudge. No sirree… I’m a completely understanding individual. I mean, it’s not like it’s a BIRTHDAY THAT ENDS IN A 0 – HOORAY I MADE IT THIS FAR kind of thing. Still, I’ll give you option 2 – my REAL celebration. Dragoncon 2008, which happens over Labor Day. I’m giving you 11 months notice to save money, save up vacation leave and to get your tickets now for only $50 (if purchased by November 15.)

Who doesn’t want to see my hoot and holler over the cast of Battlestar Galactica, Heroes, Star Trek, Firefly, Ghost Hunters, MythBusters and … err Happy Days, because nothing says SciFi like Joanie, Ralph Malph and Pottsy. My goal: picture WITH Adam Baldwin and I will try to not make an ass of myself by telling him I wanted him to be My Bodyguard since 7th grade. (In fact, I need to start saying that as my mantra so I don't embarrass any of you that actually can go.)

So, there it is – SAVE THE DATES! Real Save the Dates coming soon!

PS. If you read the blog (and I know your face), I want you to be there so no guff giving if the e-mail ball gets dropped; I’m an airhead. Just ask me for the location and be ready for COWWWWWW (or pork or salmon… if you must insult me on my birthday).

Birthdays of Yore

There's a little deleted comment (I didn't do it, I swear) on the previous post. I happened to see it because the author couldn't get into my e-mail and delete it. That author, ANNA, changed up her comments to include a "DO IT" link. (Before it said "wah-wah" *ahem*.)

What Anna also mentioned in that comment, is that Anna was the only friend to surprise me on a Christmas Day. Back in the day, we were roommates with two cats and three, no four, no five ferrets (ok, so it was maybe just four, but the brood eventually grew to 6, which is another story).

I was doing something, who knows what, but it involved a car and being out of the house. I showed up at my parents late. I wasn't in a particular rush and there was Anna, asleep (she can sleep ANYWHERE at ANY TIME - also, if she wakes up, she's probably not awake and that's where the fun begins, but again, that's another few stories) along with a chocolate iced cake with peppermint sprinkles on top. Mmmmm! I thought Anna was back home, so I completely wasn't expecting a special cake just for my birthday, which is why I was late. Whoops.

It's good to have friends that are birthday people or just want me to shut-up about my birthday - I'll take it either way.

Bowling for Trolls

I’m a huge drama queen when it comes to my birthday. Everyone knows it and I freely admit it – since I acknowledge it, it makes my irrational behavior acceptable.

See, I’m a Christmas baby. Yes, born on the actual day – 8:52 am – Mom thought it was food poisoning from something she ate the night before. On that morning, I burst out at 7 lbs. ½ oz., 21”, with a full head of hair and big issues. From 8:53 on I had to share my birthday with the world. The problem was only compounded by being an only child. You see, we’re naturally selfish if you listen to any pop-psychologist. So, it’s really not my fault, I mean what is? (another thing I learned from pop-psychology).

As a Christmas baby you have to learn to compromise. Birthdays have to be held a few weeks in advance because no one can come on the actual day. Family frequently forgets it’s your birthday at gatherings on the actual day. It’s just hard to feel special. (I discount any time I get to whip out my driver’s license and hear “oooh, Christmas!”)

For the last 9 years I’ve had an annual skate party and every year I swear up and down it’s the very last one. As I explained to Jay, “no one ever comes” and then he counted out 8 people who showed up at the last one – really uncool, because in Beth’s new math 8 some how got remembered as maybe 3 or 4.

Well, this year was it for me. No more birthday parties. I was throwing in the towel. My grand plan was to count the cards I didn’t receive and throw a pity party for one.

That’s when April stepped in. “If I throw you a birthday party, will you agree to have it?” Sure. “How many people will have to be there for you to actually feel like it’s a birthday party?” I think I begrudgingly said 10. (Like I said, I’m a HUGE DRAMA QUEEN about my birthday. I did NOT say I’m a rational human being… ever.)

Today I got the e-Vite (an e-Vite that I didn’t make for once) which completely made my day. In the hottest pink background possible (love it) I read about “Beth’s Birthday Bowl-a-Thon” and "Bowling for Trolls" with promises that if you bowled a strike or spare you got to “get a prize from the bag of mystery”. How can you resist a "bag of mystery"?

April, you crack me up and you completely made my day. Thank you, my wonderful friend. And another thank you for babysitting me through the years and for listening to all of my ridiculous birthday whining (yeah, yeah, thanks to the rest of you who listen to it, too).

My Birthday

This is an old story... well, not quite Ice Cream Man old, but a couple of months. As the site gets going the stories will be fresher, but in the mean time I've got to keep Lori entertained. It's a job I take quite seriously.

Every year for my birthday I force my friends to go rollerskating; it's a goofy thing to do and nothing beats seeing your friends crawl around the rink looking like spastic tight-rope walkers without a net. (For those of you who missed it this year and didn't respond to my lovely and well-crafted invitation, I've made notes and you know how I can hold a grudge. Just because I don't acknowledge your birthdays is no reason not to acknowledge mine. You didn't do me the courtesy of being born on a holiday like I kindly did for you, which means I haven't a clue when your birthday really is.)

Aftwards, we typically go out to eat then we all go our separate ways and call it a night. This year those that could still walk went to Chili's. I wasn't in the mood, but I troopered through it. As I was standing in the entry way I reached back to give Jay a little tummy scritchin'. It's something I do to let him know that I know he's there behind me being a part of the activities. As I'm scritchin' away my index fingers picks up on the texture of his shirt - a bit ribbed - I didn't recall the shirt ever being ribbed, but I can't recall scritchin' that particular shirt. (Mind you, I'm talking to people this entire time. I'm making eye contact the whole time. These were people who SAW what I was doing. People who didn't stop me. The kind of people that would let you tuck your skirt into your hose and parade around a crowd, the kind of people who would let you wear gobs of ketchup on your face while spinach waved to the world from all your teeth - those kind of people. You call them "friends". I won't tell you what I call them. Back to the shirt - I'm still scritchin', talking to "friends" when my index finger discovers a breast. My index finger sends a signal to my brain that translates exactly into something like "???". And in that instant Jay, who was standing within inches of the ribbed shirt, grabs my hand, April shouts to the world "Beth, stop molesting me!!!" and everyone looks at me in horror while I attempt to melt into the floor and die. Unfortunately, "friends" don't let you die on the floor.

We make a few jokes about it and I'm thinking, ok the whole event has passed and in 45 years when I'm long dead I'll laugh about it. "No one is going to make a big deal about it unless you do, Beth" - that's what I try to console myself with. Then I hear back from April the following week. It seems that April is setting up re-enactments at home and work for those who missed out. (With complete strangers at the grocery store, people in the laundry mat, you get the picture.) The ol' "Ok, you stand here and you be me. I'm Beth and I'm like over here reaching back scratching your tummy. Oh, you come over here, you're Jay and you're doing this..." Don't think I don't know about the rest of you putting on the same performances, too. I hate you all. I mean that in a loving and supportive way. For those of you who think I'm just continuing to draw more attention to it when it has probably naturally died on its own, well I'm "taking control of the story". That's what I'm telling myself.