Thanksgiving at Chez Coco

I’ll start with Wednesday night. Thanksgiving eve. My plan was to spend the night at my friend Michael’s apartment so that I could get up the next morning and make monkey bread. You may know it as pull-apart bread. It seemed like the perfect, decadent, overly sweet goodness to have for breakfast on the morning of a holiday – a holiday that is all about eating. Well, not really all about eating, I mean it’s about being thankful and taking the time to acknowledge what you’re thankful for, but then it’s about eating.

So, with work over for the day by 8:30pm, I took my list out of my backpack and headed to Food Emporium. It was crowded, but not as crowded as I expected it to be on the eve of Thanksgiving. I don't really shop for groceries at Food Emporium any more since I moved from Manhattan to Astoria Therefore my lack of knowledge of the store’s layout became apparent when it came to finding the necessities on my list that happen to be non-necessities in my everyday life. Some things I knew exactly where to find, but I had to search for vinegar and oil and Hershey’s cocoa. Then there was the matter of the buttermilk and the Karo syrup. The buttermilk was an ingredient in my red velvet cake recipe and the Karo syrup was needed for the butter cream frosting. So I'm standing in front of the milk products and all I'm seeing is Lite Buttermilk with 1/3 less fat or some amount of less fat. I was thinking to myself, this is red velvet cake; it's decadent and deserving of all the fat that buttermilk has to offer. I did make a quick phone call to my friend Neal, from whom I had gotten the recipe, to ask about the "less fat" buttermilk. There was no answer so I just made the decision myself. I didn’t buy it. Now on to the Karo syrup. I needed Light Karo syrup. I found the aisle with the cake mixes, flour, sugar, spices, syrup etc. This is where the crowd was. Seriously, one just had to park a buggy and walk because there were so many people in that aisle looking for baking soda, sugar and spices etc. that walking was nearly impossible. I found the cinnamon, baking soda, flour and sugar that I needed. I was happily surprised to find the syrup also on that aisle. Unfortunately all they had was Lite Karo syrup. Really, I thought, only Lite Karo syrup? Had the pecan pie lovers hoarded all of the Light Karo? First the buttermilk now the syrup! I'm all about the healthy eating, but some things just beg for the full-fat, full-bodied ingredients. Frustrated I exited the aisle and found myself standing in front of a Thanksgiving staples end cap. There on the second shelf was one bottle of Light Karo syrup. It was slightly to front of the shelf as if to say, "Here I am Michael; I've been waiting for you."

I boarded the R train to Queens with three bags full of ingredients. I still had to go to my apartment, repack the supplies into my Urban Luggage bag (green is the way), pack pajamas and clothes for the next day then walk to Michael's house. It was a time consuming amount of things to do, but I was working at warp speed. I might have been dillying a little, but I was not dallying at all.

I got home and filled my Gladware with the measured amounts of flour, sugar and cinnamon that I would need to prepare the next day's sweet delights. I thought it would be better to compartmentalize and consolidate than to take the full bags of flour and sugar. There was no need to carry the extra weight to Michael's and I was ahead of the game for measuring out the dry goods the next day.

I managed to get out my door slightly before 10pm. It’s a 20-minute walk to Michael's. Even with the extra weight I was anticipating a 10:30pm arrival. I was prepared for a long evening as he thought it best that I bake the cake that night. I had to stop at the grocery store on the way to his house and buy the buttermilk. Imagine the look on my face when all I found at C Town was the same 1/3 less fat buttermilk I had not purchased at Food Emporium. I just thought screw it! I'm not going to another grocery store for a little more fat. I didn’t mention that I also needed to buy some vanilla extract. I purposefully didn’t buy it at Food Emporium, as I knew I had a bottle at my house. Much to my surprise I found my vanilla extract had dried up. I had only had it 5 years. Who knew? Obviously, not this guy.

I did arrive at Michael's around 10:30pm. It wasn't before, but it was shortly after. It was cold that night, but with the coat and the scarf and the walking and the extra baggage, I was sweating by the time I got there. I was so glad to shed my coat and top-layer shirt.

Michael had spent the day preparing everything he needed to in order to make Thanksgiving Day as smooth as possible. We weren't planning to eat until 7pm with a guest arrival time at 5pm. That meant the turkey didn't have to be put in the oven until 2pm. You know what that meant for me? I didn't have to make the cake that night. I uncorked a bottle of wine, threw on my pj's and parked myself on the sofa to watch Modern Family and let the wine relax my tension away.

Thanksgiving Day morning I was up by 8:30am. I went to the kitchen to start making the monkey bread. First thing on the agenda – preheat the oven to 350°. Then I started cutting the first of three tubes of 10 Pillsbury® buttermilk biscuits into quarters. After the first tube was quartered, I sprayed Pam®, with flour for baking, into my bundt pan and then started shaking the biscuit pieces in the sugar/cinnamon mixture I had prepared the night before. I couldn’t help but feel like the little girl in the commercial for Shake ‘N Bake; “It’s Shake ‘N Bake, and I helped.” With my southern roots, I had no problem sounding just as southern as she did, probably even more as I tend to find humor in an over-exaggerated southern accent. Skip to all three tubes quartered, shaken and waiting patiently in the bundt pan for a caramel brown sauce to smother them with sugary goodness. I just had to make it – two sticks of real butter, ½ cup of brown sugar and ½ cup of the remaining sugar/cinnamon mixture heated over low heat until bubbling brown. I poured it over the biscuit pieces and placed the pan into the over. Only 30 minutes to go until breakfast sweet enough to rot your teeth would be ready.

How to pass the time? Watch the parade.

Yes, it was time for a Thanksgiving Day tradition – the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I’ve watched it for more than 20 years. I can remember times at my parents’ house watching it while sitting in the living room floor cutting up apples or grapes or bananas for mom’s fruit salad. I also have the best memory of all. It involves my mom, sister and packages of craisins flying through the air.

In November of 1997, my mom and sister came to NYC for the first time. I had moved here in May of that year so it was my first Thanksgiving in NYC and the perfect excuse for their visit. It was only natural that we go to the parade. We arrived on the parade route about 6:30am that morning. We already had to fight for a place to see. We ended up on the corner of Broadway and 34th, right where the parade made it’s finally turn after stopping in Herald Square. We were blocked part of the time by a woman in a red hat. I can’t tell you how happy we all three were when she left. The funniest memory of that day comes at my mom’s expense. There were people walking the parade route that year throwing airplane snack size packages of craisins. Well, wouldn’t you know one of them would have to hit mom, square in the face. We still laugh about it to this day. We also wondered that year about the people dressed as a clown or slice of pizza or piece of cake. We imagined what it must have been like to tell their family that they were going to be in the parade dressed as a slice of pizza or wedge of cheese. On Thanksgiving morning 2010 while talking to my mom, I told her what I was in the parade this year. I used the most downtrodden voice I could when I told her I was carrying a pumpkin and waving. My sister was a slice of pizza and my nephew Dylan, not even a thought in our heads in 1997, was craisins. Yes, the craisins live on! Mom had yet to decide what she was in the 2010 parade when we spoke that morning.

The timer went off alerting us that the monkey bread had spent the required time in the over and was now ready for us to behold it in all it brown, glistening, ooey-gooey glory. I dumped it onto a cake platter and removed the bundt pan. It was beautiful and it was ooey-gooey. I’m not sure if I had never made it with real butter before or what the difference was, but the coating looked like caramel and as it cooled while running down the side, it just froze mid drip. It was amazing; so rich, so warm, so sweet. Add the cup of coffee I was enjoying along with the parade and you’ve got a Thanksgiving Day morning that got off to the right start.


When the parade ended at noon, I had two hours, in which to make my first-ever red velvet cake from scratch, before Michael had to put the turkey in the oven to bake. I found myself in the kitchen staring at the ingredients. I was intimidated. I don’t know why. I think I’ve always thought red velvet cake was difficult to make and that everything had to be done perfectly or it would be ruined. I decided the best thing for me to do was to jump in and get started. I must admit that I was shocked at how much oil went into the batter of this cake – 1¼ cup. I just let myself be in the moment. I’d wanted to make this cake for about 5 years and I was finally doing it. One thing I had to remember is that it should be fun. I put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed. Failure is not an option. I wanted the cake to be amazing and was freaking myself out about it. Honestly, it’s just ingredients, blended together, placed in a pan and baked. It’s not like I was removing someone’s liver.

Because I made the monkey bread that morning, and it required a bundt pan, I decided, at Michael’s suggestion, to make the red velvet cake in the bundt pan. It was a beautiful, shimmering shade of red. I must confess that I licked the beaters. Is there anything better than licking the beaters? Only eating the cake, in my opinion. Anyway, the batter tasted amazing. I could only hope the finished product tasted as good. On that thought it occurred to me that unless I burned the cake, it had to taste good. It could only taste like the baked version of the wet batter I had licked off of those beaters. Relax Michael, I had to tell myself.

Once it was in the oven, the hardest part was over. I poured myself a glass of wine. It was noon! The smell of cake filled the air as I waited for the timer to beep and alert me to check the progress. Back to the intimidation. I found myself whispering as I opened the oven door to look at it. What was this a soufflé? No! It was merely a cake. Intimidation be gone. It was baking and it was fine. It took longer because of the thickness of the cake due to the bundt pan, but I checked it every five minutes for about 50 minutes and when it was done, the toothpick was clean.

Twenty minutes into the cooling time of the cake I started making the frosting. I like butter cream frosting for red velvet cake. It’s much richer and more elegant on such a gorgeous cake than the easier, and in my opinion, cheaper, cream cheese frosting. I will admit that I was a bit confused by the fact that the frosting recipe I was using did not call for butter. Call me crazy, but I would think butter cream frosting would have butter in it. I got the recipe from a reliable source and chose to not question it any further and just combine the ingredients of the recipe and hope for the best.

I learned two things about frosting. I had no idea what “soft ball stage” was. Michael had to Google it. Turns out that sugar syrup dropped into cold water will form a soft, flexible ball. That’s the first thing I learned, as I had to cook the sugar concoction until it did that. The second thing I learned was that I had merely made white icing. It was perfect for drizzling over my red velvet cake, but it tasted like marshmallow cream and hardened as it cooled. My mom is sending me her butter cream recipe for next time.


The drizzled cake reminded me of a candy cane. There was nothing wrong with the frosting either. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it worked. The cake was very moist and the crunchy texture of the hardened icing was a nice compliment.

I can actually say I was proud of myself for both of my sweet creations on Thanksgiving Day. I’m thankful that I didn’t burn either one. I’m thankful that I tried something new.

The friends arrived at Michael’s apartment; the wine flowed, the food was eaten, laughs were laughed over dinner and during games of Celebrity and Apples to Apples. Michael’s table was gorgeous. It was his grandmother’s. He also has her china. He wanted to host Thanksgiving dinner at his house this year to use the china and the table that had once belonged to such an important person in his life. I know about that importance in my own life. I think she would have been proud. The day was lovely and joyful. The only thing missing was Tynan, who thankfully joined us twice that day via Skype.


While I’m being thankful I want to take the opportunity to say that it is a wonderful thing to have people in this world that you can be with on special holidays when you can’t be with your family. Those people become your family. For much of my life, being a theatre performer, I wasn’t home for Thanksgiving Day. Now, working in an NYC theatre box office, our business not only don’t close for holidays, we add more performances during the week. So I am thankful to have people to laugh with, eat with, share with, cry with and drink wine with.

I am truly blessed everyday of my life. I have a wonderful family, beautiful friends, good health, a great job, an amazing home and a red velvet cake recipe that will now become part of my baking repertoire.

Thanksgiving at Chez Coco

New Year's Eve '09 (Celebration, Celebrity, Queens)

So here it is, 2010. Twenty-ten as we've been told to call it. This is how aught-nine ended and twenty-ten began for me.

New Year's Eve day I awoke with a slight sore throat and some nasal congestion. I was feeling something starting in my throat the day before. I kept taking Excedrin all day to alleviate the pain. I didn't want to believe that I could possibly be getting sick again. I swear I was just sick with he same thing six weeks earlier. I used to never get sick. I don't know what is going on with me. I wash my hands constantly. Not to the point of obsession, but a lot. I use hand sanitizer at work all the time. After window transactions that are particularly dirty or filled with too much coughing. Every time I return to the box office from outside of it. I just can't figure out what pheromones I'm giving off that are attracting these sickness bugs. Damn!

I laid around most of the day. Resting and waiting to see if the plans I had for the evening were going to happen at all. My friend Michael was to host a gathering at his house in Astoria, but he'd been sick for the four days leading up to NYE. He responded to my text in the affirmative. He said he was tired but thought he could make it so I should come on out to Queens around 7pm. I finally left my apartment around 3pm to get something to eat and to get some medicine. Feeling slightly worse than when I awoke that morning, I knew that I should've started taking medicine the night before, so I couldn't put it off any longer. With food, orange juice, Vitamin C drops, and Tylenol Severe Cold in my bag, I headed back to the house to eat and medicate.

I was so thankful when 6:30pm rolled around. See, by this point, my upstairs neighbor had returned from his Christmas vacation and had invited friends over to start the night's festivities. Also, my next door neighbor, or her daughter, I'm not quite sure, had started having people over. Loud, slam-the-door people. Of course, I thought I would lose my mind. So thank God for 6:30pm. Time to leave my apartment and head to Michael's place.

I arrived at Michael's along with his former roommate Flan and Flan's friend Joanna. There with Michael were his two current roommates, Corey and Tynan. We were only missing one person, Katrin, but she wasn't arriving until later. With coats removed and bags stowed, our champagne glasses were promptly filled with Presecco. A little note about the champagne glasses. They were the kind that were fashionable in the 30's called the Champagne Coupe or Saucer. Legend has it that the shape is modeled after Marie Antoinette's breast. Elegant and beautiful. They were Michael's grandmother's crystal. Glasses that evoke a different time. A post-Prohibition era when, according to Wikipedia, "Champagne flowed freely and celebrities had bottles of Champagne sent to their tables, compliments of the house." It's nice to pay homage to a different era from time to time. Flutes are beautiful but the nostalgia of this particular style of champagne glass takes me back to a time when champagne was sweeter and maybe life was too.

Michael made a delicious crawfish soup straight out of Louisiana. We had cheese and dips with crackers and chips. It was a lovely, quiet evening of friends, old and new, enjoying each others' company. We played two games of Celebrity. If you've never played Celebrity you need to rectify that situation immediately. It is one of the most laugh-out-loud, exciting, enjoyable games I have ever played. I first learned of it during summer stock in 1993. After dividing into teams, the premise is this: each person has ten slips of paper on which to write the names of real and fictional celebrities in any genre. At least one other person in the room has to know who that person is. The game consists of three rounds. Round one, you take turns giving clues to your teammates. You may say whatever you need, except a word written on the paper, to get your teammates to guess the answer. One minute on the clock. Go. The round lasts until the bowl is empty. Each correct answer is one point. All the clues are then placed back in the bowl. Round two, you can only say two words to your teammates to get them to guess the correct answer. It's essential that you pay attention the entire game. You need to be aware of how people have described the celebrities previously. One minute on the clock. Go. When the bowl is empty, the round ends and all the clues are placed back in the bowl. Round three, you can only use charades. This is by far the hardest and funniest round. My team, The Notorious Three, consisted of Corey, Tynan, and I. Team two (whose name I've sadly forgotten) consisted of Michael, Flan, Joanna, and Katrin, who arrived just before we started. The Notorious Three won both games of the evening. One of the most memorable moments was during round three of the first game when I drew Angela Bassett out of the bowl. Charades only. My first thought was to punch myself in the face as Ike had punched Tina. I made contact with my ring on my cheek bone. Oddly enough, my team screamed "Rihanna" based on Chris Brown's beating of her in '09. My brain immediately went in a different direction and I started doing the upper body forward thrust dance portion of "Proud Mary." "Tina Turner" followed quickly by "Angela Bassett" was screamed out by my team. My very next clue was "Hugh Jackman." I went with a "Wolverine" reference as we'd used it earlier. I made my hand into a claw, hoping to evoke the image of his blade fingers, and made a slashing movement. My ring flew off of my right hand and hit the wall. Michael and Joanna ducked on the sofa. Everyone screamed. We were all laughing, but with only a minute on the clock I kept going and my team got the clue. From then on, I asked Tynan to hold my ring. BTW, hitting oneself is not recommended. The ring left a mark.

At 11:30pm we turned on the television and alternated between Kathy Griffin and Anderson Cooper on CNN and Dick Clark's Rockin' Eve. It's painful to watch Dick Clark post stroke so we mostly stayed on CNN. The eye candy that is Anderson Cooper made that easy for all of us. We watched the ball drop, toasted with a nice Veuve Clicqout, hugged and kissed, and then went back to our lives in the living room. Flan and Joanna went home shortly thereafter followed quickly by Katrin. Corey mentioned making pancakes the next morning and I told him that that kind of teasing was unfair. He said I could stay the night and Tynan agreed so Michael got out sheets and blankets.

I spent New Year's Eve night cozy with friends and warm from blankets on a sofa in Queens.

Day After Christmas - "The Blessing"

I received an unforeseen shock when I awoke the day after Christmas. I went to the computer room at my parents' house to check in for my flight back to NYC first thing. No coffee. No nothing. Just check in and get that taken care of. The flight was at 6:30am and I hadn't been assigned a seat on the Memphis-LaGuardia leg yet. I just needed this one task out of the way so that I could enjoy the last day of my Christmas vacation with my family. It wasn't to be. I couldn't check in. No matter how I tried, nothing would let me check in. I got different error messages each time. Finally, I called customer service. I was on the phone for over an hour. Most of that time was taken up holding for an actual person.

Seems that because I missed the Memphis-Paducah leg of the flight on December 24, I was automatically cancelled off of the return flight. It's a new security measure. Funny how I have provided my cell number and email address for every reservation I've ever made with this airline and they didn't have the courtesy to alert me to this fantastically ridiculous cancellation. No customer service agent or supervisor would help me. They were willing to book me on another flight for a fee of $20. I promptly told the customer service agent that I could book my own return flight. There was a moment after explaining my story to a supervisor that I actually had to ask if he was still there. The air was so silent and dead that I thought we'd been disconnected. He was there. He just couldn't do anything for me. He said there was no way to re-ticket me on the flight back to LaGaurdia. What they could do was keep that flight open for a year. Make it a flight voucher. Meaning I would have to buy a one-way ticket from LaGuardia-Memphis and then I could use the rest of what I purchased for this holiday. I tried not to use the Christmas excuse with the people on the phone. I'm sure there were a lot of people with problems based around Christmas. What I did point out was the fact that $933 was the most I'd ever spent on travel to this location and that I couldn't believe that there was no courtesy shown me via email or phone call. They had my money and expected me to rebook to get back home. Done.

Furious to the point of fume coming out of my ears like Sylvester on Looney Tunes, I whipped out my American Express card and booked a one-way ticket back to NYC so that I could get home for work the next day. The interesting thing about that purchase was that I bought seat 5C for the Paducah-Memphis flight. The seat I had already purchased. The seat that they wouldn't reissue me a ticket for. I wanted to take that damn seat home with me after paying for it twice. The only seat available on the Memphis-LaGuardia flight was first class. It was only my second time to sit in first class. I think all the people boarding the plane and staring at the first class patrons makes me uncomfortable. I might need to get over that though because it was a fabulous way to travel. Bigger seats. More room. Breakfast. A pillow and a blanket. First class indeed.

When all was said and paid for twice, it cost me $1575.30 for my 64 hours of memory making with my family. Next year maybe I'll hitch a ride with Santa. Surely he can swing by KY and drop me off.

My sister convinced me to go ice skating in Paducah later that morning. We had been talking about it as a possibility since before my arrival. Abbi really wanted to go. I think everyone else did as well. I was in such a fowl mood that I wasn't sure I could go. I wasn't sure my presence would be welcomed by the family members trapped in the car with me. I conceded to go. I'm so glad that I did. The ice skating rink in Paducah was tiny, but not too crowded. It only cost us $5 each. April, Leah, Abbi and Dylan rode in one car. Casey, Whit, and I in the other. It was another bonding moment between us. The rink provided milk crates for the smaller kids to hold onto for balance as they got their skaters legs. Abbi was balance free. It was so funny. She couldn't figure it out with or without the milk crates. Dylan just pushed off in a run and sailed across the ice laying on the crates. So funny and cute. I began to loosen up and have some fun. It brought back memories of the first time April, Casey, Whit, and I had skated at Rockefeller Center. By the time we needed to leave, I was ready to stay. Doesn't it always work out that way?

The seven of us piled into our respective cars and headed to McDonald's for a small bite to eat. During the airline fiasco, I missed the orange danish's Mom had baked for breakfast. I was hungry. Who am I kidding, we were all hungry. Ice skating and anxiety can do that to you.

Saturday night was the night that Mom's family was gathering to celebrate Christmas. It's been a while since I've been able to attend one of those gatherings. They tend to be the weekend before or after Christmas. I think my being able to stay in KY for three days this year, combined with the day after Christmas falling on a Saturday, led to it being held that weekend. I was thankful. As much as I'm about tradition, this year we broke with tradition for our meal. No turkey and dressing for us. We had grilled steak and baked potatoes and fresh salad. It was a welcome change. My eyes were bigger than my stomach. I wasted what amounted to a second meal. I hate that.

During food preparation, I needed a drink. Maybe I just wanted one. I just wanted to relax. The stress of the morning was basically gone, but the anxiety of the next day's travel was beginning to creep in. The entire day was difficult for me to live in the moment and not watch the clock and count down the amount of time I had left in KY. I tried. Believe me, I tried. I drank a couple of glasses of wine. Sweet white wine. Not really my bag, but it was the only thing available to me. Honestly, it did help relax me. There were a couple of locked-in-the-back-bedroom moments with the sibling-cousins that will continue to make me laugh for years to come. It's like we were children trying to get away with something even though we're all adults in charge of our own lives. Do we ever really stop craving approval from our parents? Do we ever get over disappointing them? No and no.

What Christmas gathering with my family would be complete without game playing and quotes from "Christmas Vacation?" I'm not as up on the quotes of the movie as the other sibling-cousins. Ask me "Golden Girls," "Big Business," "Steel Magnolias," or "Soapdish" though and look out. I'm a quoting god. My favorite quote of the evening was Leah being both Uncle Lewis and Aunt Bethany in the scene around the dining table when Aunt Bethany is asked to say the blessing. The best laughing moments of the entire trip. Let's face it, that movie is a brilliant, comic depiction of a family during Christmas. Two separate clans with ideas and traditions all their own coming together to make one special holiday. Working out the differences is important and getting along with the only people who love you unconditionally is even more so.

After all the games had been played and most people had gone home, there was one other thing that I wanted to do. I wanted to read Abbi the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. She paused her television program and I retrieved the book from it's box and went to her bed. I laid down and she laid in the crook of my arm. She wanted to be able to see the words I was reading. A few pages into the chapter, Whit walked into the room and joined us on the bed for the dramatic reading. Of course you know it was dramatic. It was me reading it after all. When I completed the chapter, I closed the book and asked Abbi if she wanted me to return it to the box. She asked me to read one more chapter. I actually tried to get out of it. Then she said, "Please." What was I thinking. I wanted her to love those books as much as I, and here was an opportunity to spend some quality time with her. I agreed to one more chapter. She went to get Whit and the three of us piled back on her bed and I read the second chapter. My contacts were so dry during the reading that Abbi had to keep correcting words I was misreading. I needed contact drops and a glass of water. No complaints though. I loved every minute of reading to her. BTW, she loves the book.

So, games played, chapters read, laughter still ringing in my soul, Mom and I drove to her house so that I could pack and try to sleep before returning to NYC the next morning at 6:30am. The trip was not long enough, but at least it happened, and was packed with love. Now there's a blessing.

Christmas Day - Tradition Alive

Santa came. In the middle of the night he crept in the front door of my sister's house and left amazing things for my niece and nephew. He left moon shoes, Woody and Buzz, a basketball goal with a basketball for each of them, a new dress for Abbi and a faux chain link costume with sword and shield for Dylan. My mother woke me as it neared 7am so that we could get to my sister's house before the kids ran into the living room to discover their bounty.

It puts a smile on my face right now thinking about it. Memories of my own childhood flood back. I can remember running into the living room to see what Santa had left me in the middle of the night. I always looked to see if the cookies and milk were gone. They always were. The same can be said for this particular Christmas. Santa ate the cookies and drank the milk. A sure sign that he had been there. As for the Google Map, it said that Santa was located at the North Pole. He was home after a long night of delivering packages.

We like to open gifts one at a time so that everyone can see what everyone else got/gave. This particular year, my sister managed to stretch the morning extra long. What could have been over in 15-20 minutes, lasted over an hour and no one complained about it. It made that special time last just a little longer.

You see, once the gifts are opened there's so much to choose from that nothing is really special any more. It's all just new stuff. Taking your time allows the magic, the pleasure, the excitement to sink in, and makes you really see how precious it is.

This year a major theme in our giving was LOST season 5. I gave it to my brother-in-law, Seth, my parents gave it to me, and in a surprise twist that no one saw coming, I gave it to my parents. I think there might be a picture of each of us holding up our copy of LOST. That made for much amusement and laughter. There were shoes given to Mom, loads of dvd's given to me, jewelry, bedding, and a jacket she wanted given to my sister, and Dad received the camouflage under armor that he had wished for. Santa and his helpers were so good to us. On a personal note, I gave Abbi the entire set of Harry Potter books. Something I've wanted to do for two years. She's now at the age where she can start reading them. My hope for her is that she loves them as much as I. As for Dylan, I gave him a blast-from-the-past in the form of Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots (from my mom's youth) and Toss Across (from my youth). He loved both.

I am big on traditions and my mom is as well. Many years ago, so many I can't even remember when, my mom started cooking a big family breakfast on Christmas morning. Scrambled eggs, fried country ham, biscuits and gravy fill the house with their unique smells while we fill the chairs at the table anticipating the first bite. The amount of people present at this particular breakfast varies every year, but when you can be there it's a moment that you will long to be a part of next year even as your current plate has just a little biscuits and gravy left on it from this year.

It's all about family. Family gathering to open gifts. Family gathering for Christmas breakfast. Family gathering to play games and eat together later that night. The older I get, the more important these family moments become. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I love the traditions that come with Christmas. One such tradition that I've had for years is to give my mom the Wizard of Oz ornaments from Hallmark. She has been a lover of that film for as long as I can remember. It gives me such joy to give those ornament to her each year. Some years they are part of her Christmas gifts and other years they are just ornaments that are sent early so they can be enjoyed on the Wizard of Oz tree she has for only those ornaments. Sadly, this year, the Wizard of Oz tree didn't make it over from the barn. It's okay though, the two new ornaments were hung on the regular tree. A new tradition started by me two years ago concerns my three cousins, Casey, Leah, and Whit. We have grown so much closer over the past five years. A closeness that began at our grandmother's funeral. I've written about them and our lives already so I won't go into again here. What I started giving to them is also from Hallmark. I give Casey the Rudolph ornament. Whit gets the A Charlie Brown Christmas ornament. Leah gets Frosty the Snowman. The reaction from them is joy and maybe a bit of nostalgia at receiving the ornament. I receive joy. Pure and simple. Joy is a good thing, even if you create it yourself. The older I get the happier I am at the giving.

Leah, Casey, and Whit all arrived Christmas night. My sister and I were so excited for them to get to her house. I hadn't seen them since October. I basically had one day to hang out with them so I wanted to make the most of every moment. I told myself before leaving NYC that I was going to live in each moment, enjoy it, soak it up, without the countdown worry to leaving the next day. My dad is the worst at talking about how quickly it's all flying by. I chose to not take part in any of that kind of nonsense this year.

Life with my family was good. Traditions were kept alive once more. The familiar sounds and smells of the holiday were ever present in the house. As for my favorite Hallmark ornament, it's the Grinch.

Christmas Eve 2009 - Finding Santa

Alarm goes off at 6am. I want to sleep a little more, but I know I have to get out of bed. It is a travel day. Christmas Eve. Flight scheduled for 10:45am. I normally choose 6am flights when traveling to KY, but flights during the holiday were so expensive this year that I chose the morning flight that cost me less than $1000. After making and stowing my Murphy bed, I went to the computer to check the weather and flight status. Weather in Memphis was less than desirable, but the flight was statused "on schedule." I went to the bathroom and put my contacts in then lathered up the shaving cream for a pre-shower shave. I needed to exfoliate so I wanted a smooth face when the beads sluffed off the dead, dry skin to reveal the younger looking skin underneath. With the shaving and showering completed, I headed back to the living area to get dressed. Of course I couldn't resist checking the weather again. It had been updated almost two hours before, but that was an hour later than when I got up. There was still a 90% chance of rain for my arrival time, but now wind advisories had been added to several hour markings leading up to my arrival. Fun times. NYC was beautiful and clear. I decided to be positive. I headed out of my apartment with the sun just beginning to come up. The sky in the west was a lovely lavender. It was crisp and quiet. Around 56th Street I just began to feel a sense of peace. I started to feel positive energy and light exude from me and shine around me. My choice to be positive and courageous, in the face of the fear I felt flying into a possible thunderstorm with high winds, was working. So far. I knew it would be a constant effort to keep my fear at bay.

Thirty-five minutes after leaving my apartment I was off the train at Astoria Blvd and waiting for the bus that would take me to LaGuardia Airport. My coat, with scarf wrapped tightly, along with gloves and cap try to keep the cold from biting into me. Three buses later with toes and fingers frozen I was on an oh-so-crowded bus to the airport.

The security line was long, but broken into multiple lines so it moved quickly. My life was compartmentalized into two bags, a bin for my coat and liquids, a bin for my boots, and a small black bowl for my belt. Oh the life of travel. It's not leisure anymore. I was at the gate with two hours to spare. My flight still "on schedule."

As I looked around the airport I couldn't help but notice all the babies. More babies than I've ever noticed before. I also couldn't help but notice that all flights seemed to be full according to the overhead announcements. I remember the days when I could fly to Paducah for $239 round trip and have two seats to myself. How travel has changed. It's become much more stressful. I think half the battle for me is just getting to the airport. Taxi, Super Shuttle, bus, and subway are all options. Since moving into an apartment of my own, I've gotten more frugal with my money. I will take the Bolt Bus to Boston instead of the Amtrak and I've started to take the subway to the airport. I buy a monthly Metrocard for $89 so the trip on the subway costs me nothing extra. Seems like something I should have been doing for years.

Still waiting at the airport I turned to HLN, sister network to CNN. I've always found the HLN morning anchors very animated so it's easy to get caught up in their morning routine. The story was of a little girl's wish to Santa. Her daddy is serving in Iraq and she asked Santa to bring him home for Christmas. He then walked around the corner in the mall where Santa was hearing wishes. Her mother had known for about three months that he would be home. She wanted to keep it a surprise but almost confessed when it seemed her daughter didn't want to celebrate Christmas without her daddy. Then the little girl told her mom that she was going to ask Santa to bring him home. Her mom decided to keep the secret and make it the ultimate surprise. I am one who knows surprises. Even last year I surprised my mom and dad for Christmas. I had to fight back tears at the airport as I waited for the flight that would take me home to KY to visit my family for the holiday. It's such an emotional time for me. Keeping my positive attitude about getting home as I continued to hear on the news, talk of the storm moving across the South made is very difficult. There were delays reported, but we were on time. Weather is beyond our control. I have so many memories wrapped up in this time of year and the stress of getting home is enough to make one's face break out with pimples.

Boarding began at 10:14am. It took longer to board the plane than to get through security. Full flights'll do that to ya. My seat was changed from 8C to 12D when the attendant scanned me in. Four rows further back but still an aisle. Pretty good since I had no choice in the matter. The overhead bins were full when I got to my seat, but somehow my bag, a duffel, collapsed enough to fit in the available space. How often does that happen? Positive light and energy.

We took off very close to on time. I was shocked. I anticipated, firstly, that we would be just one plane in a line awaiting take off, and secondly, that the Memphis weather might delay us. No such inconvenience. Not only did we take off on time, we landed thirty minutes early. The winds we're not a problem and the rain was just rain. It was a little bumpy while descending, but nothing crazy. I asked for a safe, limited turbulence flight, and I got just that. Thankful is my first name today.

With my family on their way to pick me up, I sat in baggage claim B of the Memphis Delta terminal. Whit, Casey, and I were Covington bound to meet up with my mom, sister, niece, and nephew who were driving from Arlington to meet us at our chosen half way point rendezvous! That destination was the Wendy's. We chose to have a bite to eat before driving to Mom's.

In Mom's car on the way home Dylan tore all the pages out of his Mad Libs book and gave them to me. Abbi and I played brickbreaker. We listened to Christmas music from a Pottery Barn Christmas cd. Abbi had April's Blackberry and recorded a voice note of us singing Eartha Kitt's "Santa Baby." Abbi kept saying we're jazzing along with music. We took pictures with my Blackberry camera. Abbi found it difficult to keep her eyes open with my bright flash. That led to many bad photos and lots of laughter. Oh yeah, at one stop sign April and I did a Chinese fire drill. Mom attempted, the wind almost blew her Santa hat off so she got back in the car. The kids looked at us like we were idiots. Maybe the best part of the car ride was using my Blackberry to track Santa for the kids. Thank you Google Maps. They asked me periodically throughout the evening where he was and I always found him. They didn't really know where any of the foreign locales were, but they knew he was flying up in the sky somewhere and would be at their house soon.

When I finally got to my parents' house, I had just about an hour to try and get my presents wrapped before we had to leave for my dad's brother's house for Christmas Eve with my dad's family. I did not get the wrapping accomplished. I managed to get three gifts wrapped. I knew at that moment it was going to be a while before sleep arrived.

Christmas Eve is so magical. The gifts are still beautifully wrapped under the tree. The anticipation of Santa's arrival is in the air. I'm not sure there is another day during the year like it. Sitting in Mom's living room and starring at the tree is not a waste of time, but a way to prolong the moment. We all know the next morning, the peace and beauty of that night will be gone as the gifts are unwrapped and the madhouse of a family gathering begins.

Before going to bed my niece and nephew spread a special mixture of oats and large sugar crystals in the front lawn nearest the house for Santa's reindeer. Oh to be young and so excited again. Who am I kidding, my mom and I are like little kids ourselves at Christmastime. As for me, I wrapped the remaining gifts for my family and took them to my sister's to place under the tree. "Santa" was hard at work. According to Google Maps, Santa had finally arrived in the United States. He was in Ohio, Indiana, then Newark, NJ, and my very own New York, NY.

I slept with the peace and contentment of a child returned home for Christmas. Safe, sound, secure, loved, and happy.

A Single Man

I bundled up for the 20 degree weather and left my house heading toward 5th Avenue. It was time to do a little shopping. Fifth Avenue and Christmastime make for an exciting pair. The crowds get on my nerves, but it's the ultimate NYC experience. It's the epitome of the "City sidewalks, busy sidewalks" of "Silver Bells." Most of my Christmas shopping was done online. Ordering gifts from Amazon.com is the easiest. I just have them shipped to my parents' house. Then I wrap them when I get there for the holiday's. A trip that is costing me $933 this year, but that's another story, never mind, anyway.

I walked past Tiffany's and saw the lighted greenery around the door and the bundled greeter at the entrance in his Tiffany blue scarf. I crossed the street and walked past the windows of Bergdorf Goodman. Interesting and gorgeous as always. I was en route to The Paris to buy tickets for the new film "A Single Man" directed by Tom Ford. It's opening night for the film and I've been anticipating it ever since I heard it was happening. Colin Firth and Julianne Moore star in the sixties period piece. Tom Ford is a fashion designer making his directorial debut. A fashion designer as the director of a 60's period piece. I couldn't wait for 8pm. My friend Michael and I planned to be in line by 7pm.

After the ticket purchase, I headed down 5th Avenue toward Rockefeller Center. I hadn't seen the Christmas tree yet so it seemed like as good a time as any as I was heading to New World Stages to do a little "day off, unbothered" work. Along the way I passed Saks 5th Avenue, but their snowflakes were unlit. As for the tree, I have to say that I'm glad it has gone "green" but I do miss the days when the lights were bright and gorgeous even during the day. The skating rink was full of skaters. All it takes is a trip to Rockefeller Center to put me in the Christmas spirit.

It's kind of nice to be at work when it's actually a day that I'm technically not working. I was able to sit downstairs in the admin office and work when I wanted and chat when I wanted. Mostly I concentrated on my work as I really wanted to complete the tasks that I came in to accomplish. Once they were complete there was nothing stopping me from joining the conversation and laughs that were coming from the next room. As the holiday's are approaching and last minute cards and gifts are being sent out to friends, clients, and colleagues of the theatre, what better day than Friday to work on that project. That's exactly what was happening today after 3pm. It was good to just have the time to sit and chat and hang out with the office peeps.

Michael and I left the theatre around 6:30pm and decided on Chipotle for a quick bite before the movie. After dinner and a quick subway ride on the E train to 53rd and 5th, we headed to 58th and 5th to get in line for the movie. Along the way, lights were twinkling and people were in awe of a twinkle light pattern or a scene in a store window. I especially enjoyed the large, twinkling belts the looked as if they wrapped around the Fendi store. Nice touch.

Let me just say that it was in the 20's here pretty much all that day. I was told my Michael that the wind chill had been 8 degrees. Our movie was at 8pm. It was dark and a cold wind was blowing. The thing about The Paris is there is no where to wait inside. Audience members line up outside on the sidewalk. Ladies and gents, it was cold. And I had to pee. Being cold and having to pee is no time to be waiting to get inside. I made it though. Thank God!!

Michael suggested we sit in the mezzanine before I could ask him if we could sit in the mezzanine. So we headed straight upstairs to the front row. Perfect view of the large screen.

SPOILER ALERT!!

How do I even begin with "A Single Man?" I loved it. I thought it was a beautiful film. Firstly, I thought it was visually beautiful. Everything you read about "Mad Men" talks about how meticulously the set decorators and art directors pay attention to detail. It seems the same to me in this film. Just like "Mad Men," it's set in the 60's. It's 1962 to be precise. A day in the life of a grief stricken, deeply closeted, homosexual man. A day in the life. A solitary life. Almost void of color. The film shows George in a kind of sepia tone soaked haze. It's like looking through gauze. However, when he makes human contact, the film subtly and suddenly bursts with color.

George is lonely. He seems to have no reason to live. Work and friends aren't enough. Living through the routine of his day seems to be like trying to walk under water. Not that I know what that is like. It is just how I felt. Could be that the imagery of him at the beginning, struggling under the water, permeated my thoughts and reflected upon his life. Maybe that's what it was supposed to do. I don't know. Put him in a situation with genuine human contact though and you can't imagine that he wants to end his life. Everything seemingly bursts with life. Colors are vibrant. That is life.

I haven't experienced the loss of a mate in my life. Thank God! I don't know what daily life would be like after that. What I do know is that I wanted him to live. I wanted him to want to live. I wanted him to find love again. It seemed to me that he was ready to live by the end. He locked the gun away. The gun that would have taken his life. He burned the post-suicide notes to friends. He actually seemed happy. Then, wouldn't you know it, life beyond our control strikes.

So many moments in "A Single Man" moved me. Specifically, there was a shot of Colin Firth's face as his character, George, learned of and reacted to, his lover, Jim's, death. The camera just sat there watching him as we, the audience watched him. The realization sank in and the reaction was just what you'd expect. It broke my heart. Julianne Moore as his pal Charlotte (Charly) was a portrait of an aging woman full of regret.

I could see myself in both characters. The lonely existence of George. Everyday I strive to fill my life with something. Sometimes it's just superficial things. The woe-is-me existence of Charly. She complained a lot about the state of her life. I do that all the time. Sometimes I wonder if I can be happy without something to complain about. As I sat there listening to her. I could feel the spotlight shining on me as I thought about how I react to my own life.


I need to find the balance between a reason to get out of bed and being thankful that I have the bed to get out of. There is always something to be thankful for and always a chance that human connection in the form of love is just around the corner. I don't know where that corner is, but I know that if I continue to shut myself off from human contact I will never turn it.