To my mother this evening:

“So I’m seeing Jefferson next week. I was thinking of making lasagna or something. What do you think?”
“Well, it’s your birthday…”
“Yeah, it’s also our anniversary too.”

She gives me a quizzical look. I watch her put together the realization that I met a strange, old man on my 20th birthday.

“Oh, did you not know that already?”
“No,” she says shaking her head.
“Whoops.” I laughed and shrugged my shoulders.

I’ll be a little while before you hear me complaining about not having enough to eat.  I’ve been eating non-stop for days since I got home Friday.  It started with Ham and Mac and Cheese Friday night and then the left-overs Saturday night.

Sunday family came so we had our first Christmas dinner- appetizer, soup, roast beef, sides and desserts.

Christmas Eve dinner I discovered the wonders of Prime Rib and made my way through 2 pieces.  More desserts.

Christmas Day dinner was an Italian dinner so lasagna, more ham, sides and I barely managed to eat a small cookie for dessert.

Tonight was simple with just me and mom getting some pizza.

Holidays were pretty good.  I was in a funky PMS mood, but managed to push through it each day.  I made out pretty good present wise, especially considering I had already gotten my computer.  But I got cash, gift cards (even one to the supermarket!), clothes, undies, body washes!

Saturday and Monday I took some pictures round the country side and I’m excited to go develop them this week.  I’m actually going back to one spot tomorrow to quickly get a roll of something in color, because I think it deserves it.  Monday I fell though when I was taking pictures.  :(  I was only across the street, but I was in a field and the snow had turned to ice and I was oh so careful but one false step and I slipped and fell knee first on to the ice, breaking through and soaking my pants in cold, dirty water.  But my camera was fine!

Of course now my knees are all bruised and my entire right leg is sore.

But I went to the chiropractor today which was nice.  My mom goes there and they’re nice.  I got a little adjustment and then got some TENS on my lower back and got a super nice all over back massage.

(And I gotta say, after getting a professional massage, I really think Jefferson’s massages aren’t half bad!  If anything it was more relaxing having a naked man doing it, hehe.  I might have to just start making weekly appointments with him purely for a back massage…)

My parents leave tomorrow for a long weekend in Prague, so I’m heading back to my dorm to stay out of the way of our dog sitter who I’m just not in the mood to socialize with.  No big deal, I’ll have a few days to work in the dark room before heading down to DC for New Year’s.  So then hopefully I do some good work this weekend and scan some new work in next week and I can start the sales!

Ooowee!

It’s so breathtaking seeing all the stars a night, especially against a backdrop of millions of acres of evergreens and lakes.  And I was born and raised in the country, but some how the stars just seem brighter here.

And the air is so much cleaner.  I noticed it on the drive up, somewhere in the Catskills I think.

I’m loving getting to spend all this time with the young’ns.  I’m so going to cry again this year when I say good bye to them.

Yesterday my mom (Grandma) and I took the 3 older girls horseback riding (it was Abigail’s first time ever).  And it was so nice.  I mean, the ride was a little boring because we only walked it, but it was a beautiful ride and I’m so glad to have gotten the chance to go with the girls and have that memory.

I’m planning on going again tomorrow for a private ride so I can do trotting and maybe a little cantering too.  I may go with either my mom and/or my oldest niece, Emily.  Her sister Maggie wants to go too, but she didn’t seem as confident on the horse as Emily did, so we’ll see.

And of course my baby nephew is just being as adorable as ever!

In other news though, I got the Thinking Blogger Award!  I was kinda shocked to see that actually.  Noel Vera of Critic after Dark (completely unrelated to the sex blogging scene) named me in his list.  Which of course now means I’m tagged to come up with 5 blogs that make me think…(I’ll have to do that another time).  I’m honored though- so thanks Noel!

Well, it’s breakfast time, so I must be off… I’ll be back again with more tales from the wilderness!

Yesterday was a family day. I drove out to PA where my brother lives for my one niece’s birthday party. She’s going to be 6 this July. Can you believe that?? Well, I mean, I can’t. I remember when she was born. Shit, I remember when all my nieces and my nephew were born (the oldest is 11 now).

Also at the party was my other sister in-law and her youngest daughter, who live in Asia. I only get to see them once a year, so it was nice to see them. And I’ll be seeing everyone for the week I’m up at Lake Placid.

I took some great pictures with my new camera that I got for my birthday. It’s amazing how much better this camera is than my old one. Plus my nieces and baby nephew are so freaking adorable. I wish I could share the pics here.

My nephew is really just a sweetheart though. Such a sweet, loving, happy little boy. His mom was about to put him down for a nap and I came upstairs with his blankie (well, what’s left of it) and he wanted me to read with him when I saw him. He picked out a few books and snuggled in my lap as I read and then happily let me put him in his crib after a few books. I love that little boy so much. Being around him always makes me rethink the whole not having kids thing.
He’s still not talking yet. Well, he’s saying Mama now, and some other gibberish. (He turned 2 back in the beginning of March.) And he’s in speech therapy; apparently his tongue doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. Poor thing.

Works been busy finally. It can get hectic in the dressing room when it’s busy. I have to make sure everything is hung nice for when the other girls get it to put back out, and I separate it by department, I also have to check the rooms periodically to collect extra hangers or get clothes left behind. Plus I help customers when I can with getting different sizes and such. And then handing out the numbers, which I’m not very consistent with. When it’s really busy, I just don’t have time to count.

Nor do I care. And as I put it the other day, “They don’t pay me enough to care.”

With so much busyness, I don’t have all that free time to think.

Which, I’ll tell ya, is totally a good thing.

Not that I’m not still thinking about things at all. But just not for hours on end while I stare at the floor waiting for someone to try something on.

I do a lot of thinking now when I’m in bed, right before I fall asleep. So, it’s a couple minutes at most.

Jefferson says he is sad about the break-up. I can’t be sad. I just don’t think I can deal with it. I haven’t cried since that night (go me!). I just feel like if I’m sad, I’ll miss him. And if I miss him, I’ll want him back, and then it’ll just be a repeat of earlier this year.

If I’m sad, I’ll just want him to kiss it and make it all better. Because that’s what he does for me.

No good.

*Sigh*

I think I was about 10 when my dad met my step-mom.  She was really cool at first when they were dating.  We’d do craft projects together and she’d make all this really yummy food I’d never had before (not to mention her banging chocolate chip cookies, which are still the best in the world).

And then they got married and I became a teenager and we’d really butt heads.

It wasn’t until I got to college and I got a job working at a store where she was a manager that we really started to develop a relationship.  She became more motherly with me like bringing dinner for me from home (since I was living in the dorms).  And although we often seemed to have differing opinions when I was younger, she eventually became my biggest supporter on that side of the family.  When my sisters were making fun of me for being Jewish, she was shaming my mom and dad for not raising me with a religion (as I wished I had been).  When my dad was criticizing me for changing my major yet again, she was hopeful I’d found something I loved to inspire me.

Last mother’s day I gave her flowers and a card (I’d never really gotten her anything before) and I wrote something really beautiful about how I was glad she was a part of the family and she was the only normal one, or something along those lines.  I forget, but she couldn’t finish reading it because she didn’t want to cry.

When I first started fighting with my dad in September, I felt bad about not having contact with her because I wasn’t mad at her.  But when I went to their house at Christmas, she seemed kind of cold and distant, so I thougt she was mad at me for fighting with my dad (she’s been mad at my sisters for their fights before).

But it turns out, she really misses me.  My mom had called over to my dad’s for whatever reason and my step-mom said that she really misses me; that she feels like she’s lost a daughter.  She knows my dad is stubborn, and that so am I, but that she and I could talk and still have a relationship, and not even tell my dad!  I almost cried when my mom told me that!  I had no idea she felt that way.

It’s hard for me sometimes because I’m so, so incredibly close with my mom to accept someone else as another mother figure.  And for so many years my step-mom was more like my dad’s wife to me.  I don’t know if I’ve actually told her I love her.  Cause I guess I do.  I mean, yeah, of course I do.

It makes me really happy though that she said that.  I don’t really want to call though and risk getting my dad (though, speaking of I should finally expect a response to my letter some time soon).  I may take a trip to her work and give her a big hug.

“What if he misses the bus, Noelle? My mom will just kill him if we’re late. I’ll have to send him back home to protect him!”
“You should call him.”
“Eh, he’s on the subway right now, I’m sure. At least, he should be. No, I trust him. He’s good with schedules like that. He’ll make the bus.”

My phone rings 20 minutes later. “I’m bringing sexy back…” plays on my phone.

It’s Jefferson.

“Hey sweetie, it’s Jefferson…”
“Hey!”
“I missed the bus.”

Oh God. I couldn’t breath.

“The subway stopped in the tunnel. But I got a ticket for the 12:30 bus…”

I couldn’t speak.

“You there?” he asked.
“Yeah, my heart stopped.”
“Oh your poor heart!”

My mind raced. We’d be late if the took the 12:30 bus.

“Umm…we’ll come get you,” I decided quickly.
“You sure?”
“Yes, we’ll drive in and get you. Half an hour. 20 minutes if no traffic.”
“OK, should I stay here or go somewhere else?”
“Stay there.”
“Ok.”

Luckily, Noelle and I were ready to go.

My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking, praying time and traffic would be on my side as I drove to Port Authority to get Jefferson. Luckily, it was.

“Assuming we get to my house on time, my mom doesn’t need to know Jefferson missed the bus,” I warned Noelle.
“Agreed.”

I pulled up to the bus station in good time and Jefferson hopped in next to me and I sped off back in the direction I just came from.

Noelle and I had argued before about who’d control the music. She deferred to the back seat, but still wanted to control the radio. I said, my car, my iPod.

Somehow it ended up being her iPod. But I’ll admit, she’s a pretty good DJ.

We made good time as we headed north. We’d get to the party right on time, and Jefferson could go home in one piece.

I pulled into the driveway just after family friends, James and Patti.

I kissed them hello as they handed me a wrapped jewelry box.

“This is Jefferson and my roommate from school, Noelle,” I said introducing them to my friends.
“These are family friends, James and Patti,” I told Jefferson and Noelle.

I knew though no one was going to get any names straight.

Even among my different-family family members. (My step-dad’s kids not quite remembering my cousins on my moms side, etc….)

“Hi Noelle! Hi Jefferson! Hi sweetie!” my mom chimed as we walked through the door. “Hey kiddo,” my step-dad chimed as he walked into the foyer.

My parents hugged me and Noelle and welcomed Jefferson, shaking his hand.

“That’s Zoe, the other love of my life” I pointed upstairs to a dog standing at a gate at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to show up to your own party!” my brother teased me as I walked in the living room and kissed him hello.

I made my rounds to kiss everyone hello that was already there and started introducing Jefferson and Noelle to everyone.

“That’s my brother and his wife there, and those are their two kids. That’s my cousin, her husband, and their two little boys. And that’s her parents, my aunt and uncle, and my other cousin. And then that’s my other cousin and his little girl.” Noelle and Jefferson nodded their heads blankly at me.

“Jefferson, would you like something to drink?” my mom asked.
“Oh I’m OK for now, thank you,” he smiled.
“Look, we have bourbon!” I said holding up a bottle of murky Jim Bean.
“Uh, it looks a little cloudy,” he said looking closer.
“Yeah, it does,” I said examining it better. “Well…there’s Jack Daniels…”
“It’s a little too early for bourbon, even for me.”
“Really? Wow…”

The appetizers were starting to go out and I dug right in since I hadn’t had breakfast.

There was lots to choose from, but most of it I had no interest in:

Meatballs- Swedish and Italian (a little mushy, I thought)
“Chicken nuggets” (breaded chicken pieces, a little bland I thought, perhaps from the cornflake crust?)
Deviled eggs- yummy yummy!
Stuffed tomatoes, pea pods, and escarole
Sausage and cheese filled wantons
And little mini Reubens
Plus chips and fresh fruit salad.

More guests arrived and soon the party was in full swing. I did my best to mingle with family while making sure my awkward friends were comfortable.

“Enjoying the food?” I asked when I found them standing quietly in the dining room where the food was.
“Mmm hmm…” Jefferson said between bites.
“We’re going drink for drink,” Noelle offered, raising her Malibu bay breeze. “This is my second though. He’s still on his first beer.”

Lite beer, I noticed. Oh man, my family is so going to just think he’s gay.

“Make sure you’re mingling with everyone,” my mom reminded me as she came in the room.
“I am, I am. I was just getting some food.”
“Hey, wanna see some art?” I offered to Jefferson.
“Sure!”

I brought him into our den to show him my honorable mention work. It was a hot air balloon on scratch paper. Hot stuff, I know.

“Hold on, here she is,” my step-dad said, handing me the phone. “It’s Aunt Dee, she’s not feeling well and can’t make it.”
“Hi Aunt Dee!”
“Hi sweetie, I’m sorry we can’t make it today, I’m just not feeling well,” she said. She sounded awful!
“Aww that’s ok. We miss you, but I hope you feel better!”
“Thanks honey. I just want to wish you a happy birthday and hope you have fun today!”
“Thank you. And maybe when you feel better me and mom can come visit you!”
“I’d love that!”
“Good, I love you and feel better, ok?”
“Thanks, sweetie. I love you too.”

I ushered Jefferson next into the living room where I had a drawing from high school, plus a lot of family drawings.

“Wow, this is nice,” he said of my drawing.
“Thanks! And these are my grandparents’ paintings. These are my grandpa’s- well, actually he was my grandma’s second husband…” I said pointing out his paintings. “And these are an uncles, and this one my grandma’s. And there’s more back in the dining room.” I said walking him back. “Hey mom, is this one grandma’s?” I asked about one painting without a signature.
“Yep. These were my mom’s and these were my step-dad’s” she said, pointing out different ones.
“This is my absolute favorite,” I said of a large one my grandpa did.
“I love the motion around the bird’s wings,” Jefferson commented.
“Mmmhmm, he was really good at rocks too.”

Now with food in my belly, I thought it was time I start drinking! It was my 21st birthday party after all! I had recently bought a new drink I wanted to try that I saw in an ad in a magazine that sounded just yummy! Lol. X-Rated liquor. Vodka with blood orange juice, mango and passion fruit. Totally my drink. And it came in a pretty frosted bottle!

I poured a little bit into a cup, just to sample it first. It was very…sweet. And tart at the same time.

“What’s this?” my brother asked.
“A new drink I wanted to try. It’s very sweet.” He poured an even smaller amount into his cup to taste.
“Phew! It needs something, like tonic, to tone it down.”
“I’m not a tonic person…”
“Well, something without flavor.”

I drank it straight, but enjoyed it more as the ice melted and watered it down a bit.

It really takes a lot for me to think something is too sweet!

“Oh Jefferson, try this garlic dip!” my mom said.
“OK…Oh this is good,” he said dipping a chip and taking a bite.
“They got Ruffles at my request,” I said, opting for the sour cream and onion dip.
“Your request?” he laughed.
“Yep. They’re really the only chip worth eating. Plain wise at least.”

Dinner was getting ready to go out soon, but my mom started ushering people outside to the porch to sit in the sunshine. It was a beautiful spring day, with only a bit of a chilly breeze. First it was just me, Jefferson, and Noelle, but soon more and more people started pulling up chairs around the one table. Soon Jefferson started talking with everyone and got into talking about his latest project. Noelle and I exchanged a glance and I smiled as I watched him fit in just perfectly. As I knew he would.

The next course of the meal was announced as ready (as if we hadn’t had enough to eat!). Flank steak and London broil, mac and cheese (one plain and one with sherry), my Mom’s famous bean salad, and stuffed zucchini. (And we still have dessert coming up!) As birthday girl, I felt it was completely in my right to cut in line to get some yummy mac and cheese and some steak.

I sat back down at the table and soon people started joining me.

“Do you want something to drink?” Jefferson asked me, putting his plate down.
“Oh you don’t have to do that!”
“It’s no problem.”
“Well, Ok, Diet Coke, thanks!”
“Sure thing.”

Dinner was yummy. I enjoyed my steak and mac and cheese, and everyone else enjoyed everything else as well. When people were done, dishes were cleared, and as I was standing, my mom pulled me into her lap.

I made one request of her for that day- not to embarrass me!

“We should tell some Avah stories!” she suggested.
“No, we shouldn’t!”
“Hey honker-buns…” my aunt chided me. I, uh, had a habit of running around naked when I was a toddler. But didn’t we all??
“Ugh,” I groaned, looking over at Jefferson. He was laughing.

My mom got up and I took her seat, pulling my nephew, Max into my lap as he ran in my direction. Now, my nephew is just the cutest little boy in the world. He has these beautiful white-blond curls and bright blue eyes and the biggest, happiest smile. He just turned 2 in March, but has yet to talk.

He kneeled in my lap and his cold fingers went immediately down my shirt to my tattoo (which was showing to family for the first time since I got it in November. That sure raised a lot of eyebrows!).

“Ask him where his bellybutton is,” my brother suggested.
“Max, where’s your bellybutton? Show me your bellybutton!” He lifted his shirt and pointed, smiling at everyone. “Where’s your nose?” He pointed to mine and started pulling on my nose ring! Everyone was laughing. “No, you’re nose, silly!” He giggled and pointed to his nose. Zoe came out onto the porch and Max climbed down to play with her.

As it got later in the day, clouds moved in and it got chilly, sending people inside. Happy Feet was playing on the TV for the little ones.

“So, having fun?” I asked Jefferson.
“Sure am,” he said, kissing my cheek. I blushed a little and looked to see if anyone noticed that. I think we were safe.

Noelle was sitting in a chair watching Happy Feet, and Jefferson on the arm of it as I explained the awesomeness of Happy Feet. I sat on Noelle’s lap to watch the movie myself, but after a minute she started tickling me relentlessly. And I dunno, I must have been sitting at an odd angle because I couldn’t get up until my step-dad came and gave me a hand up!

The kids were itching for cake, so my mom sent me down to get my ice cream cake from the basement to start defrosting a bit.

“Did you get the cake?” she asked me a moment later.
“In the 30 seconds since you asked me? No.”

I brought the cake up as my mom set out the other desserts. Oh yes, we had a huge ice cream cake, but my mom also whipped up a carrot cake and 2 key lime pies. You know, just in case people don’t want ice cream cake. But really, who doesn’t like ice cream cake?

After defrosting for a little bit, 21 candles were put in it and everyone was ushered into the dining room. Everyone sang and I picked Max up so he could see. I made a wish (secret, or else it won’t come true!) and blew out the candles. It took a couple tries, but I eventually got them all.

My mom started cutting the big cake, giving to the eager kids first. My brother started cutting up the carrot cake and Jefferson sweetly volunteered to dole out some of the key lime pie.

“Do you want some carrot cake?” I asked Noelle. “It’s really yummy, even though there are no raisins.”
“No, I really just don’t think carrot should be in a cake. But uh, this pie tastes kinda funny. The whipped cream is bangin’ though,” she said, taking a forkful.

I laughed as the kids devoured their cakes, their mouths turning shades of blue and green from the frosting.

I soon started opening my gifts after my sister in-law said I should, since they wanted to see me open it. I got mostly cards with money, but also 2 Barnes & Noble gift certificates. But I also got a Coach bag from my sister in-law, some booze from one of my mom’s teacher friends, a nice journal and Paris walking guide from a family friend, and the necklace I was handed when I first got there.

Now, Noelle has a weakness for babies and kids (I swear she’ll have 10 once she gets over the gross out factor of birth…) and so she was all about playing with my cousin’s new little baby boy, Oliver. Jefferson, sitting next to her, reached out for the baby. “My turn,” he smiled making goo-goo faces at him. Jefferson lifted Oliver up above his head and Oliver’s face screwed up as he began to cry!

“Aww, you made the baby cry!” Noelle said.

Oliver’s Grandma (my aunt) came and took him in her arms to soothe him.

“I can’t believe you made the baby cry,” Noelle said shaking her head. “He was fine with me…”
“What can I say?” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

The party was winding down and I started kissing departing guests good bye.

In between good byes, I pulled Jefferson upstairs to show him some of my paintings. What I really wanted to do was rip his clothes off and fuck right there, but that really wasn’t possible. I really did only just show him my paintings. I tried to get a little kiss in, but my mom was calling to me that people were leaving.

Soon everyone was gone and the 3 of us sat with my parents for a little bit.

Jefferson excused himself to the bathroom and I whispered to my mom next to me, “So, what do you think?”
“He’s very nice,” she whispered back.
“Do you like him?” I asked my step-dad.
He nodded his head in approval.
Noelle had already weighed in earlier. “He so freaking gay,” was her opinion.
“I thought it was sweet when he offered to to cut the pie,” I said.
“Yes, that was very nice,” my mom agreed.
“So, that Jefferson, huh?” Noelle said loudly when he started coming back.

It was getting time to leave, so Noelle and I packed up some left overs to take back to school, and I packed up a container for Jefferson as well.

Soon it was time to go and my parents hugged us good bye and we loaded into the car to head back.

I grabbed my iPod cord before Noelle could get to it and played Mika for me and Jefferson. Didn’t matter anyways because soon Noelle was passed out in the back seat with her head hanging out the window.

“I just have to drop Noelle at school real quick,” I told Jefferson as I pulled off the high way towards our school.
“Good lucking studying for French. I’ll see you in a few,” I said as I pulled up to our dorm.
“It was nice meeting you Noelle,” Jefferson said waving good bye.
“You too,” Noelle replied climbing out of the car.

They never shook hands.

“Which one is your apartment?” Jefferson asked me.
“The only one with stairs,” I said, pointing to where Noelle was headed.

It was an easy drive the rest of the way into the city and to Jefferson’s building. I pulled into the drive in front of the building and immediately pulled him in for a deep kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” I said when I pulled back.

We kissed a bit until a car behind me beeped to get out of the way. Jefferson grabbed his food and jumped out, thanking me for a fun day and kissing me good bye. I watched him walk through the doors as I sped off back to New Jersey.

Dear Dad,

I’ve thought about calling you lately, but I haven’t wanted to. And the plain and simple truth of why is because I don’t trust you. I don’t like telling you what’s going on in my life because I don’t trust you won’t judge me, criticize me, use what I say against me, or talk about me behind my back. I’ve been so much more relaxed these past 7 months because I haven’t been filled with the anxiety that comes when I talk to you or visit with you. I don’t feel the need to constantly be on the defense.

And it’s not just you. It’s D and J too. All my life I’ve never felt good enough, thin enough, smart enough for any of you. I’ve never felt supported or accepted. And that’s why I got so mad about your decision about France. Money issues aside, it really upset me you couldn’t at least support my decision to do something really cool and exciting. An opportunity that only comes once in a life time. Let me also mention I’ve been wanting to study abroad since I was little, so it really shouldn’t have been a shock.

I know a lot of parents raise kids with expectations of what they want them to be, but it’s not my obligation to fill those expectations.

You can’t raise me the same as D and J. It’s a different time, and I’m a different person. College is going to make me more than 4 years. I’m not slacking off because I take only 12 credits. I know I can’t handle 15. And I’m finally serious about being an art major. Emerson and I don’t get along so well, but me and Cezanne, we’re pals.

I know you’re my dad, but I don’t know how to have a relationship with you. I can’t if I don’t trust you, and I don’t know that I ever will. History just shows I can’t count on you to support me. So, I don’t know where to go from here.

But if you want to write me back, here’s my address at school….

-Avah

Last night, I had left a note on the kitchen table just saying my sweet potatoes were gone to tell my mom since she would be up before me.

And I had fully intended on making another batch, or at least a half batch today when I got up.

But I found she already made it for me!!

I have the best mommy ever!!

As I’m making my sweet potato casserole, I’m measuring ingredients to make the oatmeal crumb topping.

“I need 4 tablespoons of butter,” I tell my mom. “Is that a half a stick right there?” I say pointing to a stumpy section of butter.
“Let me see.”

She pulls out another stick with the paper still on it.

“No, you need half.”
“But that’s not a quarter cup. A half a stick would be a quarter cup.”
“No, look. ”

The lines on the paper do say I need half of what’s on the plate.

“Is this a stick of butter here?” I ask her.
“Yes, it’s a cup.”
“No, a stick of butter is 1/2 a cup.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is.”
“Take out a stick from the freezer and compare it.”

I place the two next to each other. The frozen one is longer and skinnier.

“Oh, so this is a stick of butter! But look, 1 stick=half a cup=8 table spoons.”
“Oh!” We laughed.
“But I do need half of this.”

—-
“It says I need to bake it 70-80 minutes. Is that a long time?”
“It’s more than an hour,” my mom says.
“I know it’s more than an hour.” Me, my mom, and step-dad laugh. “I just meant compared to other things.”