I thought about blogging as soon as I got the news. I worked it all out in my head. The ranting, the raving, the points, the counterpoints, but now it all hurts and stings just a little too much to even care anymore. Simply put, Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.*
*I reserve my right to change my mind and address this subject at a later date.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tomorrow is another day...
The first week after my birthday has made me so tired that I think I might need a whole year off just to recover. Severiously, mama is too pooped to pop! However, tomorrow night at the witching hour, which is 10:30pm on the lower Eastside, my sassy ass is seeing the the legendary Eddie Izzard. I have waiting patiently for him to FINALLY play NYC. He has been workshopping a new piece in LA while filming The Riches, due to return to FX next month, that is if I can stay awake!!!
Actually awake is what I am, asleep is NOT. My sinister mistress insomnia has comeback to keep me up at all hours watch DVR, Adult Swim and Adult Swim I have DVR'd. Is that a verb? To DVR? The past tense being DVR'd. Ok now I am rambling like an old person in the home with no footie PJ's. Well, tune into to see if I can make it through week 2 of my birthday of an undetermined number.
Actually awake is what I am, asleep is NOT. My sinister mistress insomnia has comeback to keep me up at all hours watch DVR, Adult Swim and Adult Swim I have DVR'd. Is that a verb? To DVR? The past tense being DVR'd. Ok now I am rambling like an old person in the home with no footie PJ's. Well, tune into to see if I can make it through week 2 of my birthday of an undetermined number.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
IN UTERO
Once a year I think about being a fetus.
Since I was born of someone I have never met, or at least been properly introduced. For 9 months I was inside a woman, I assume, since I have a belly button we can safely say I wasn’t hatched, she carried me around and then one day in February pushed me kicking and screaming into the world. I then went into foster care until my adoption was finalized. The only information I have about her is that she was 16, came from an affluent family in Philadelphia, and named me Cheryl.
I haven’t seen JUNO yet, and I think it’s on purpose. I have a feeling I will probably transfer a lot of my own personal history onto Ms. Ellen Page. In fact from what I have seen in previews she seems to fit the exact idea of who I thought my birth mother would be. Impossibly smart for her age, hilariously quick witted, not unlike myself. Clear headed enough to know that she had so much life to live before even considering keeping the baby and that in the end was doing the right thing in giving it up to a deserving couple.
Abandonment is a funny thing. Logically I get it, but somewhere in my DNA, or subconscious etc…I can’t let go of the fact that I wasn’t good enough to keep. It’s beyond my control, she did it for me so I could have a better life, I know that, but the fantasy of what my life might have been haunts my fertile imagination. It used to be a way of escaping my childhood at times. Suddenly I could be the lost heir to some vast empire if I got grounded for riding my bike in the street. That someday my REAL family would rescue me and this time they would never leave. Funny how you hold onto those self coping images that speckle the past.
I was lucky enough to get my family, a lot of kids don’t. I can play what if until my brain freezes, but again what’s past is past. I do wonder if she, my birth mother, if still alive thinks about me on my birthday? Does she feel a pang of something missing? Maybe she’s misplaced her keys or lost a glove. Thinks to herself, “What am I forgetting?” Then in a quite moment it comes to her. Oh, yeah I had a baby today.
I guess I will never know the truth. Adoptions are closed in South Carolina. We would both have to register with Catholic Charities in order to find each other and then only if we both consented would we be given contact information. After my mom died I thought about it. But then it just seemed silly. What would it prove? I think the idea came to me because being a motherless daughter is a very hard lifestyle. The adjustment is unending and frankly I don’t think one ever “grows” out of it. That loneliness made me want to seek her out. However, if I trade reality for my fantasy then I’ll have my answer. Then what? I’m not willing to take the risk. Her not fitting into my life suddenly becomes the problem. Which begs the question, if she’s not JUNO, then who’s not worthy now?
I will probably see the movie at some point when it comes on cable, I’m sure I’ll cry and laugh and vice versa. Every impending birthday has this moment and will surface again and again at least for me. Wherever she is, whoever she is, alive or dead, she got me to the door. It’s up to me to continue my walk through it and find out what waits for me, to make better choices and know that every second is a chance to turn it all around.
Thanks Moms…thank you both.
Since I was born of someone I have never met, or at least been properly introduced. For 9 months I was inside a woman, I assume, since I have a belly button we can safely say I wasn’t hatched, she carried me around and then one day in February pushed me kicking and screaming into the world. I then went into foster care until my adoption was finalized. The only information I have about her is that she was 16, came from an affluent family in Philadelphia, and named me Cheryl.
I haven’t seen JUNO yet, and I think it’s on purpose. I have a feeling I will probably transfer a lot of my own personal history onto Ms. Ellen Page. In fact from what I have seen in previews she seems to fit the exact idea of who I thought my birth mother would be. Impossibly smart for her age, hilariously quick witted, not unlike myself. Clear headed enough to know that she had so much life to live before even considering keeping the baby and that in the end was doing the right thing in giving it up to a deserving couple.
Abandonment is a funny thing. Logically I get it, but somewhere in my DNA, or subconscious etc…I can’t let go of the fact that I wasn’t good enough to keep. It’s beyond my control, she did it for me so I could have a better life, I know that, but the fantasy of what my life might have been haunts my fertile imagination. It used to be a way of escaping my childhood at times. Suddenly I could be the lost heir to some vast empire if I got grounded for riding my bike in the street. That someday my REAL family would rescue me and this time they would never leave. Funny how you hold onto those self coping images that speckle the past.
I was lucky enough to get my family, a lot of kids don’t. I can play what if until my brain freezes, but again what’s past is past. I do wonder if she, my birth mother, if still alive thinks about me on my birthday? Does she feel a pang of something missing? Maybe she’s misplaced her keys or lost a glove. Thinks to herself, “What am I forgetting?” Then in a quite moment it comes to her. Oh, yeah I had a baby today.
I guess I will never know the truth. Adoptions are closed in South Carolina. We would both have to register with Catholic Charities in order to find each other and then only if we both consented would we be given contact information. After my mom died I thought about it. But then it just seemed silly. What would it prove? I think the idea came to me because being a motherless daughter is a very hard lifestyle. The adjustment is unending and frankly I don’t think one ever “grows” out of it. That loneliness made me want to seek her out. However, if I trade reality for my fantasy then I’ll have my answer. Then what? I’m not willing to take the risk. Her not fitting into my life suddenly becomes the problem. Which begs the question, if she’s not JUNO, then who’s not worthy now?
I will probably see the movie at some point when it comes on cable, I’m sure I’ll cry and laugh and vice versa. Every impending birthday has this moment and will surface again and again at least for me. Wherever she is, whoever she is, alive or dead, she got me to the door. It’s up to me to continue my walk through it and find out what waits for me, to make better choices and know that every second is a chance to turn it all around.
Thanks Moms…thank you both.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
I'm now OFFICIALLY part of the problem....
Yesterday, my dear friend Madeleine gchatted me to say that she had just gotten a text from our friend Danielle that she was at the gym on the treadmill next to Madonna. Very cool indeed. I then told everyone surrounding my Jew cube and they said I should call Page Six. I was like why? They were like why not? I was content to enjoy the coolness factor of my beautiful friend Danielle sweating along side one of this centuries biggest icons. I joked with Madeleine about Page Six or perhaps emailing Perez Hilton. I then decided I would do the latter I mean really he’s in LA what could happen? Here’s what I wrote:
Subject: Madonna...
Working her jelly right now on a treadmill at the Reebok gym on Columbus on 67thin New York City….Esther sweats just like the rest of us!! Love you on Gay Pimping with Jonny McGovern!!! Work grrrl!!!
Off flew my second hand sighting to a website address in the black hole that is the internet. Less than 10 minutes later I receive this reply:
Hot!
xoxo
P
Clearly, Mr. Hiltons cousin through another mother (i.e.: Paris) lack of vocabulary skills is still heavy on his mind, but I did appreciate the xoxo. The story doesn’t end there….the chat continues….
Madeleine: brandy! did you tell Perez?? Spotted: Madonna working her jelly Tuesday afternoon on a treadmill at the Reebok gym on Columbus and 67th in New York City. Esther sweats just like the rest of us!!
he even uses the word jelly
me: OH MY GOD!!! That's what I wrote to him!! hahahahaha
am I in trouble?
Madeleine: no that's AMAZING i didn't realize it was that easy
me: Me either!!!
Madeleine: you are hilarious, as soon as i read it, i knew it had to be you, haha
In a 20minute span of time and through the use of 3 modes of technology I was able to alert a gossip hound of the exact whereabouts of Mrs. Richie. What was worse were the comments made by people to the listing on Perez’s site. Evil, vile, mean, nasty comments, a few nice ones, but mostly embittered computer freaks who hide behind there screens passing judgment on everyone. Frankly, I feel dirty. I feel like I have put negative karma into the universe for outing the athletically minded diva. Becoming part of the paparazzi and media frenzy over every little thing celebrities do has made me remorseful. Madonna, can you hear me, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to spill the T and totally T. I promise to endeavor to keep my nose out of your business and continue to buy all your albums even though people say you’re over. You’re not over you’re just at the gym, which is where I need to be.
As for Brittany, Lindsay, Jamie, and Amy you’re on your own.
Subject: Madonna...
Working her jelly right now on a treadmill at the Reebok gym on Columbus on 67thin New York City….Esther sweats just like the rest of us!! Love you on Gay Pimping with Jonny McGovern!!! Work grrrl!!!
Off flew my second hand sighting to a website address in the black hole that is the internet. Less than 10 minutes later I receive this reply:
Hot!
xoxo
P
Clearly, Mr. Hiltons cousin through another mother (i.e.: Paris) lack of vocabulary skills is still heavy on his mind, but I did appreciate the xoxo. The story doesn’t end there….the chat continues….
Madeleine: brandy! did you tell Perez?? Spotted: Madonna working her jelly Tuesday afternoon on a treadmill at the Reebok gym on Columbus and 67th in New York City. Esther sweats just like the rest of us!!
he even uses the word jelly
me: OH MY GOD!!! That's what I wrote to him!! hahahahaha
am I in trouble?
Madeleine: no that's AMAZING i didn't realize it was that easy
me: Me either!!!
Madeleine: you are hilarious, as soon as i read it, i knew it had to be you, haha
In a 20minute span of time and through the use of 3 modes of technology I was able to alert a gossip hound of the exact whereabouts of Mrs. Richie. What was worse were the comments made by people to the listing on Perez’s site. Evil, vile, mean, nasty comments, a few nice ones, but mostly embittered computer freaks who hide behind there screens passing judgment on everyone. Frankly, I feel dirty. I feel like I have put negative karma into the universe for outing the athletically minded diva. Becoming part of the paparazzi and media frenzy over every little thing celebrities do has made me remorseful. Madonna, can you hear me, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to spill the T and totally T. I promise to endeavor to keep my nose out of your business and continue to buy all your albums even though people say you’re over. You’re not over you’re just at the gym, which is where I need to be.
As for Brittany, Lindsay, Jamie, and Amy you’re on your own.
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