GAY is a 4-letter word

Here are the cherries growing on my cherry blossom willow tree. 

Note: these trees are not supposed to be fruit-bearing.  

Hello.

June is LGBT PRIDE month, and so I wanted to proactively throw in some perspective before you start seeing PRIDE events in the news and all over your Facebook feed and start judging people.

I have acquired many more Christian-faith friends over the past few years, and while the topic has not come up with everyone, I have heard some things.  For these friends in particular, my goal with this note is to consider how we are thinking about homosexuality.

Even for my non-Christian friends, I know that many people have an aversion to any discussion of homosexuality, and the political topics it triggers.

For many reasons, I am an Ally.  I am a Christian woman and I firmly stand with my brothers and sisters who are homosexual.  This may seem like an oxymoron.  It has always been a strong conviction of mine. 

BUT IT IS A SIN!!!

I guess that I will start by addressing the religious stuff, since it is, believe it or not, the easiest topic to address.  Here we go:

No one is perfect, everyone is a sinner, there is one omnipotent God, I am not God and neither are you.

Per generation, the “sin of the season” rotates.  Think of how often in history being divorced was the biggest sin you could commit - when it could mean total excommunication from society.   Remember times in history when it was okay to rip the flesh off of a human and crucify them and torture and murder… but marrying 16 year olds (or younger) and getting them pregnant was socially acceptable?

Homosexuality is instructed in two places in the bible – In Leviticus and in Romans.  It is considered sexual immorality, and is therefore a sin.  (So, anyone who has committed any sort of sexual immorality, you can group yourself together.)

My point here is that it's not always reasonable to cherry-pick homosexuality out of the host of sins which are covered far more times in the scriptures.  For example, divorce is mentioned as a sin many times in the bible – and Jesus himself spends time talking about the subject of divorce (but not homosexuality.)  Surely you know of some divorced people, riiiiight? Do you treat them differently... do they expect equal rights?  What if they wanted to get married again?  Should we let them??

Holy matrimony?

STORY TIME! (John 8:1-11 for reference)

One of my favorite accounts in the bible is when they bring the woman who was caught in the act of adultery to Jesus, and demand that he condemn her.  While the crowd is stating their case trying to damn this woman, it says that Jesus was writing with his finger in the dirt on the ground.  He stands up while they are talking, and says, “Let anyone of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her,” and then he goes back to writing in the dirt. 

There is speculation on what he was writing, but some suggest that he was writing the ten commandments.  Some suggest that he, being omnipotent, was actually writing each of the accusers’ own sins out on display, for all to see. 

By the time he finished, and stood back up, it was just him and the woman left standing there.  He said “Where did everyone go?  Has no one condemned you?”  And she said, “No one, sir.”  

I love this story, and totally relate to it – easily putting myself right into the shoes of the accusers, pointing at other sinners and shouting loudly how they sin bigger than me and deserve to be punished.  But guess what would shut me up and send me fleeing from that room – someone who actually knows my life and my darkest moments and darkest thoughts starting to air my business, in the same way I was just trying to do to my peer.

Who are we to feel privileged enough to make the decisions on which sin is greater than the other?... Are murder or child abuse on the same line as saying a “swear word”… probably not, but it is all fruit from the same root and that is the root of sin.  I am not The Great Judge and neither are you.  What we can do in the meantime is try to not be cruel barbarians, and to try to get through this thing called Life that we’ve been given with some smiles and laughter and friendships.  I’ll be happy to talk to anyone about this if you want to agree or disagree.

HEART FOR ONE BUT NOT THE OTHER?

And my final point to the religious aspect is this: Before distancing yourself from the gay community, let’s consider how it could be that we have ministries that go out to serve the drug-riddled huddle masses of homeless people in our communities, but sometimes those same people with the heart to serve the homeless community shame and abuse the gay community?

I have many friends and acquaintances who serve the homeless community (and btw, if you are ever interested in this great work, please check out BeMore Caring) and I am so thankful for those people.  I honestly admire and am grateful for these people.  We are all given different gifts and hearts and purposes, and I personally have never felt the pull of the heart to serve the homeless community like some of my friends do.  It just doesn’t call to me – I am not needed there.

However, that same fervor that some have towards the homeless community is how I feel towards my gay friends.  Many (certainly not all) in the gay community can experience such feelings of oppression, injustice, blatant discrimination, homelessness (that is, being without a “home” but not necessarily without a roof over their heads), shame, excommunication from home and family, feeling lost, loss of identity, powerless, hopeless, lonesomeness.  

I am honored to be part of a support system, as a woman, as a straight person, as a Christian, supporting the gay community however they need me, standing with them, letting them know that not everyone on earth is a tyrants and that there is hope, and people who care about them.  There are people who care that they make it through the day, and that we can do this whole thing together.

Just as I haven't yet experienced the drive to jump into the streets and serve the homeless, others don't have the drive to jump into a PRIDE parade, and that is why it takes all kinds of kinds to make the world go 'round.  

With that pendulum swinging both ways, we must also guard our tongues and hearts from sneering at what doesn't please our fickle hearts.  For me, it comes so easily to feel indifferent (or worse) when a sign-wielding destitute person weaves passed my car begging for money... why is that??  Why do gay jokes come so easily & with oblivion of offense to others?  Some folks will fight until their final breaths for "refugee protection," and others will fight as fervently to "protect our borders."  The contrasts go on and on. We are all given different brains and hearts for these reasons, I guess.

"WELL, THEN I AM PROTESTING."

The way that some can shame homosexuality, but not other sins, is a disgrace.  When "Beauty & The Beast" came out a couple of months ago, and it leaked that there is a gay character, hyper-Christians everywhere lost their minds.  All of a sudden, they were protesting and boycotting the movie (as if it made one bit of difference… Disney was going to get their $$, so those haters can hate.)  

 Okay, well I went to see the movie, and to this day I don’t know what the gay storyline was or who the gay character would have been, so clearly it wasn’t a power theme of the film…  but even if it had been…  so what if it was?  So what if one of the characters was gay… do people think they are going to Catch The Gay by seeing it? Is their constitution so weak? Are the children going to enter the theater one way, and come out homosexuals?  Wouldn’t it actually expand the horizons of one's culture, and perhaps open an opportunity for an educational conversation?  Why flee from that?    

Wounds 

If you know me at all or follow this blog (I realize my entries are few and far between anymore), then you know that my sister is gay and is married to her best friend, and the two of them have been a constant rock throughout my entire crazy roller coaster of a life.   They are two of the the healthiest pieces of the puzzle of my life. 

One thing I will not forget was the day of the election this past November.  Now, I do not want to get into political “sides” here, because to be honest with you all, I am still in shock and dismay and disappointment at the results of the election.  I am hurt and shamed.  I can’t believe that I did not win.  I repeatedly asked you all to vote for me, and I never even got a phone call from the White House inviting me to come take the crown.  How dare you.  How dare ALL OF YOU.  So, I am still recovering from that, the therapy sessions are starting to work, I hope…  

Anyway, that gigantic wound aside, what I will not forget is a phone call with my sister on the day of election.  Fearing that a Republican-led White House would mean future attacks on equal rights, my sister said to me, “Well, you are a few hours ahead of my timezone, so will you do me a favor?  Will you call me tomorrow, and let me know if I am still married?”   It was sort-of a joke, but honestly, it broke both of our hearts, the possible truth of it.  Replaying it in my mind, I can still hear the weeping pain of when she said that.  My sister is a rock in my life, and to see your rock shaken really can have an effect on you.  

So by now in this loonnngg entry, you are probably saying...

OMG WHAT IS THE BIG DEAL??

What’s the big deal?  The big deal is that gay people should be able to have the same legal rights as straight people.    Imagine your husband/wife whom you’ve been married to for your whole adult life is now laying in a hospital, and their situation is dire.  You are not allowed to see them or make any medical decisions, because you are not “related.”  Let’s then say that they do die, and now, because you never had any legal rights, you have to abandon everything you have built together, including your house, car, 401k, life savings,  all while trying to deal with a broken heart and life.  (This is what I imagine when I remember the above conversation with my sister.  If my sister were to come down with a serious illness tomorrow... I would not know ANYTHING about her medical history, or wishes, or anything... yet I could make life-or-death decisions for her? No. Nope.) 

I hear a lot, “We need to protect marriage…”  And hey, I don’t know what that means, so I am not going to agree or disagree with that.  Does that mean, “We need to protect female + male standing in front of a clergy person and making vows to God”?  Okay, I see what you’re saying.    To me, equal rights are different.

WELL THIS COUNTRY WAS FOUNDED ON CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLES

Well actually a ton of people fled here from Europe because of religious persecution from... Christians... So... let's just not go down that path right now...

BUT TRANSGENDER PEOPLE ARE JUST THE WORST

I recently had a discussion with one of my best friends on the topic.  She told me that she struggles with the notion of transgenderism in general.  She doesn’t necessarily struggle with the notion of people being "born gay," or at the very least having innate attractions that they have no say in, and that you love who you love.  

She said, “It just seems so wrong to me to go through all these motions to drastically manipulate your incredible body.  Like, there are people with diseases and terminal illnesses that have to undergo surgery, and you have a perfectly good body, but you’re still convinced that it’s the wrong one?”

The problem here is that argument could also be made for everyone who gets Botox in their lips or nips & tucks or lasers here and there and everywhere.  I’m not disagreeing!  I really don’t feel any strong way about it.  I don’t know what it is like to be in those shoes. 

The only thing I can think to compare it to are those commercials for prescription meds for… whatever… depression or fibromyalgia or whatever… and of the 45 second commercial, they spend 8 seconds on the benefits… and the rest on the possible reactions and side effects, including but not limited to hair loss, serious depression, starvation, death, dismemberment, leaking boils, eyeball explosion, fingernail fungus, liver failure, vein collapse, cancer or worsening kinds of cancer….. and you’re like… wait…. For real?  

And then I heard someone who was watching one of these commercials say to me, “Omg, why would you even take this medicine??”   And I said, “Maybe all of that is minor in comparison to the hell they are currently living in otherwise.”    You just never know. 

I don’t know what goes through the minds of those tortured souls, but I have indeed spent time with people who are transgendered and not at peace.  I once had a best friend I spent many years with who was a sad, weak, lost, tortured soul.  I mean it.  Tortured.  Would self-wound, would just haaaate himself, would sob like a little girl… over almost nothing.  And it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with his inner demon.   I will never understand that, and it isn’t up to me to try to fix.  He has a fantastic support system in his family – and thank God – because if he had outside persecution IN ADDITION to his inner struggle, he wouldn’t still be roaming this earth, I have no doubt about that.

THIS IS THE LONGEST BLOG ENTRY EVER

Look, the point of this was not to take a stand on the righteousness or sin of homosexuality – We just need to have an attitude of graciousness.  Graciousness for gay people, homeless, drug addicts, alcoholics, bad drivers, small-talkers, sidewalk spitters, fat and skinny, tall and short, black white silver red blue yellow and even orange.  I have to tell myself this more and more each day, it feels like.    
I was recently sent this article (click here) regarding the dangers of churches and church people becoming too progressive. I don’t want to sound like I fit into any of those categories.  I’m not here to dismiss or discredit Christian beliefs; I hope that is clear.

We are charged to love each other, and if you can’t even manage that, 

we must tolerate each other.

"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, 

if you love one another."

Guest Writers, My Sister

Hello.

I'd like to open up the floor here.  If you'd like to submit an essay for this blog, I'd love to have you as a guest writer.  

What could you write?  You should write about that thing you have been meaning to write about.  Maybe it's a lesson you've learned in your old age/wisdom, or just a funny experience you had, or a short story which is totally fictional, or perhaps a brief autobiography.  Maybe you were reading a magazine article, or a Chipotle cup, or this blog, or a billboard sign, and have thought, "I could do that." But you haven't had a platform to put it on.  Well, I'd like to feature a few stories.  

I believe that every single person walking this earth has a story to be told.  We have all walked different paths - even if two people have lived the exact same life (unlikely,) their perspectives and the lessons they learned will be different. 

I've written an essay on my sister.  It was a test to myself to see if I could write about one singular topic, and also, I've been meaning to write about her.  So, here goes!

Essay On My Sister

I would like to talk to you about my sister.

This entry is about a year overdue.  I have been waiting and waiting to write it, and now it is time to do it justice.  It's been like the song bouncing around in my heart that needed to be written.

I want to talk to you about my sister, because probably you don't know much about her.  In fact, you probably don't know much about anyone in my family. My family tree is more of a family forest - lots of patchiness of different, independently functioning trees standing in all different areas, and I just swing around the forest willy nilly.

Since I can remember, I have not been able to explain my family map to anyone without, well, literally drawing a map.  It's hard to give the "short version" of it, so you and I will have to talk about it one day over a pineapple-ginger flip martini or three.

But, today, I want to talk about my sister.

In summery, my sister knows how to sing with all the voices of the mountains, and paint with all the colors of the wind.

(This is basically the highest compliment I know how to give.)

My sister is one of the best people in the world.  She is raw, smart, street smart, badass, beautiful, kind, jolly, and has been through some serious trials.  She's got the dirt under her nails (metaphorically speaking... she would NEVER actually have dirt under her nails) and the callouses to show that she busted her hiney to make it to where she is today.  No handouts, just grit and hard work and sweat, and lots and lots of tears. And lots and lots of love, laughter, and great memories. 

From my dad's previous marriage, I have three siblings: a brother and two sisters, and Michelle is the middle child. They are all much older than me, and growing up, I often spent my summers out visiting the three of them in L.A..

Sadly, this is one of the only photos I have of all of us together! 

This was taken Christmas 2012.

They each had their own families/houses, and it was a really fun childhood for me to be able to visit each of them.  We always had fun adventures.  We'd go to the lake (everyone is a water enthusiast - from fishing to wakeboarding,) and we'd go to the theme parks out there, or they would take me to Santa Monica or Venice.  My other sister was a producer, and she even once got me in to a filming of my favorite show at the time, Home Improvement. (JTT, gals can I get a witness?)

It probably was a huge pain in the tukas to have to babysit me for weeks, but I will never forget it, and I cherish the memories they gave to me and the time and money (lots of it) they invested into their little sister.

That side of my family is very close with each other, and they always keep up with cousins and aunts/uncles.  It's nice.  They would even include me in with them when I visited and we'd all go on family vacations, so that even people whom were not the least bit blood related to me I would refer to as "Uncle Bob" and "Aunt Betty," etc..  But this entry is about my sister.

She has always been so awesome with me.  When my dad, mom, brother (mom's child) and I moved to the other side of the country, she would sometimes come and visit.  She even would plan (with my mother) surprise visits, just to bring our dad joy.

One time when I was about 6 years old, there was a knock on the front door, so I ran and opened the door (it was a different time in the world, when people could open the front door without expecting to be killed) and there she stood, on my doorstep in Florida.  I don't remember exactly how I reacted, but she told me to go get dad, to surprise him, to tell him someone was at the front door.  

So, giddy, I ran and knocked on dad's bedroom door, and said, "Dad, Michelle is here."  He said, "Michelle, the neighbor?"  And I said, "No, Michelle my sister!"  And he thought I was just actin' a fool.  He slogged over to the door, and when he opened it and saw my sister there, he absolutely lost it. I still remember the happy tears.  She did this act a couple of times in our years living together.

Michelle was always very patient with me, just like she is with everyone.  When we would take a vacation to the lakes in California (we used to go to a quaint location called Bass Lake a lot), she would drive the boat round and round in circles, swinging the rope out to me each time I fell off the water skis, until finally I stood up. 

It might have taken me twenty tries to stand up, and I would be worn out and my arms would feel like they were going to fall off, and I would just want to give up on myself all together, but she would hoot and holler and encourage me until I actually was successful.  It wasn't just for me, either - she was (and still is) like that with everyone who came with us.

This patience is a trait that we share, and I remember it about our father, too, but don't misunderstand me - with that patience comes a white hot internal temper if there is an injustice or disrespect. You would not want to be in the path of the calm-but-true rage that comes when it's time to lay down a smack down.

She would explain things to me, like when she had braces, she would let me touch them, and when she and her wife had a baby, I talked to her on the phone while she was still in the hospital, and she explained to me what it felt like to give birth (as much as you can tell an 8 year old.)

On to that point.  Michelle knew early in life that she was gay.  Michelle grew up in a very Catholic environment, went to Catholic school, and lived in the ideal L.A. Tinseltown home of the 60s-70s. She did not fit in.  She rode motorcycles, and also earned a Black Belt.  She also played a little too hard, and decided that the best idea would be to enter a 12-step program, where she met the love of her life, Sheila.  It was a hard time and place, but they forged on together.  Sure, it was easier to live the life they were building in Los Angeles rather than some other places in America at the time, but that doesn't mean that anything was ever actually easy. 

Michelle and Sheila decided to have a child together back in the early 90s.  This came with its own host of stigmas and challenges.

I am here today telling you that Michelle and Sheila and their daughter are the healthiest family in my entire crazy widespread family forest.  I'll leave it to you to determine if that is ironic.  I am immensely proud of their daughter, who is in her mid-20s and still living in L.A., and whom I am depending on as part of my retirement plans (I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS.) 

When the Supreme Court ruled in favor of same-sex marriage nationwide last summer, my sister & her wife were due to visit me the next day.  Living so close to Washington D.C., the celebration was vibrant and alive all around me, many of my friends were celebrating, and everything became very colorful - literally.  I was so thrilled, and I was so thrilled that I could share the moment with them.  When I asked how it felt, what it means to them, after a moment she said, "I honestly never thought I would see it in my lifetime."  It was heavy.  It was a happy occassion that I will be telling my grandkids about.

Throughout the years, Michelle has taught me so much about life, family, fishing, and home improvement.  She has also kept the spirit of our dad alive in a number of ways, including the sense of "family is family."  When I am around her, I feel less abnormal, because she and I are very similar.  We'll both burst into song about random things, and dance up and down the aisles of the stores, while her wife tries to get out of our way while continuously mumbling, "You are a bunch of crazy people."   We are also very funny.  It's a family trait.

Actually us at any given moment

Pulled over on the side of the road to go chase sheep around. 

There were hundreds of sheep!  

We also both can speak easily to strangers, and this is definitely an inherited trait.  Our dad could speak to anyone about anything, and he did.  He would just learn things about people; what they did for work, and then about that industry, and then about the tools they use in that job, and then before you know it, you could point to about anything, and ask what it is, and my dad would know the answer,  because "Oh, I knew a guy who used to work with that."  Lots of my friends will tell you that people tend to just open up around us.

We were at a Bass Pro Shop, (aka my sister's own Disneyland) and this cashier was in The Worst Mood.  She was rude and grumpy.  Within just a few smooth sentences, my sister easily pulled that girl into a smiling, happy mood.  It is so easy for her.  I think all my sister said was something like, "How is your day going, do you get a break soon?" And then this girl went into detail about how it was only her 2nd or 3rd week back from maternity leave and how she was missing her child, and then Michelle gave a little, "Oh, well only a few more hours until you can enjoy spending time with your sweet little child," and the girl whipped out her phone to show pictures, and by the time we left, that cashier was like a different person.  I took this picture because I watched it happen, and it felt like home to me.

My sister is also an avid fisherperson, and they find joy in traveling the country to find places to fish.  When they came to visit me last summer, we went out in the bay and did some fishing. 

Fishing is their passion.  When I visit them, they watch the fishing channel.  Like, they actually have recorded fishing shows and they sit there and watch it, like people who are obsessed with golf do (oh yes, they are also obsessed with golf.)

Michelle has said to me that our experience as children with our dad was vastly different, and I totally believe it.  Her experience was of a typical, 60's era provider figure, and mine was more of someone who could embrace child rearing, and attend recitals and silly school events and bring me to music lessons.  (This was because he worked night shifts.)  But even in this, Michelle says that being able to watch dad raise me helped inspire how she should raise her own child - sort of like watching a second chance take place. A slowed down, happy, smell-the-roses second chance. 

We lost our dad years ago, and having someone to talk to just to remind you of the kind of person you came from, the kind of person you were raised to be, is a wealth that not everyone is granted.  

They say that home is where the heart is, and while I don't have an address latitude/longitude for that location, I can tell you that part of my home rests with Michelle.

###

Slight Humor, and Side-Eyeing Chloe

There's bad news and good news.  Actually, lots of good news and bad news.

Bad news: Haven't blogged in weeks.
Good news: No one reads the blog in April, I've noticed.  I probably could have gone till May till someone said something to me.

Bad news: Baltimore is self-destructing.
Good news: Lots of time with Smidgen.

Good news: My sister is coming to visit this summer!
Bad news: So much to do to my house before she and her wife come.  I finally talked to her today and found myself saying, "Listen, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that I have a toilet that occasionally rocks!! I can't afford a new toilet right now, okay!?"  

Sooooo if you wanted to come over and help me paint or do yard work, I would not object.

Good news: my colleagues are really used to my shenanigans.  

I was mad at one of my colleagues, but it wasn't for a few days after whatever initially upset me that I actually saw him again, and by then, I couldn't remember why I was mad, just that I was supposed to be mad.  This is my attempt at holding a grudge.

So something was wrong in one of our systems, so I went to call in my folks to help, when...

From: Scotty

To:  Veronica

Subject: All fixed...

From: Veronica 

To: Scotty

Subject: RE: All fixed...

Oh.  Okay I’ll call off the troops.  Thanks and sorry a little.

From: Scotty

To: Veronica

Subject: RE: All fixed...

Just a little?

From: Veronica 

To: Scotty

Subject: RE: All fixed...

Yes because I was mad at you but this might have cancelled it out just now.  Maybe.

From: Scotty

To: Veronica

Subject: RE: All fixed...

You can't even remember why you were mad?

From: Veronica 

To: Scotty

Subject: RE: All fixed...

Not really but it’s one of those things like women and childbirth – you block out the really painful part, but you know that you still mad, bro

From: Scotty

To: Veronica

Subject: RE: All fixed...

I love how you mentioned women and childbirth but still finished strong with “bro”

It's good.

I love other people telling me about funny things I've done, because I can never remember them.  I'm even chuckling at that email convo I had, and I'm glad I remembered to write about it.  

The other day, Sara came up to me asking me to elaborate a Post-It note I had written.  I had given her a mug, because I take my tea very seriously, and she doesn't keep a real mug at work.  How am I supposed to share my passion for tea with someone who is ill-prepared? Seriously, check out my tea department: 

All sorts of teas, loose and bagged and in sachets.  Herbal, fruit, black, British, you name it.

Then there is my honey collection, which is not pictured.

So I got her a birdy mug like she likes, and apparently wrote this post it note:

She came over and said, "Excuse me - could you please elaborate which feelings, exactly, were implied here?"  I thought it was very funny.  I had totally forgotten about the entire thing, so it really cracked me up.  

I spend about 2 hours of each day just laughing, and about 80% of that is at myself, or things I forgot that I did.   Or my Timehops.

The other day, a meeting reminder went off on my computer.  When I opened it, it said that the (actually important) meeting was taking place on the 16th floor, and then below, in the appointment, I wrote to everyone, "Unless you are afraid of heights, in which case we'll just meet in John's office."  

That may seem not funny to you right now, but when I'm  really focused, and in work-mode, things like that just totally throw me off and make me laugh.

Side-Eyeing Chloe

If I have not held an entire conversation with you via meme, then you do not hang out with me enough.  Anyone who actually knows me knows that most of my day-to-day life can be illustrated via a series of memes.  Kake and I will hold entire wordless conversation with just memes.

Side-Eyeing Chloe is one of my spirit animals.  Click here to get the full story.  

I use Chloe for so many situations.  Just this evening, I received a text message telling me that I was being impatient (because I did not receive an immediate response to my question) and that I was "just going to have to wait," which received a big Chloe in response.

The funny thing is, two out of three people who don't know Chloe actually think that it is a picture of me as a kid.  That's how similar we look.  

It cracks me up when people call out Chloe, either by giving me a good one, or calling me out on one.  When Sue was telling me that Larry is planning a road trip to Oklahoma, apparently I gave her a perfect Chloe.

This whole week's Baltimore situation has just been one big Side-Eyeing Chloe. 

Trip Out West

Okay, so I’ve been home from vacation for almost a week and a half and I have not posted a blog.  I’m the worst, I know.

Vacation was a lot of fun and had a lot of ups and downs.  It’s the same trip I took a couple of years ago at Christmas. 

I’ve never liked the desert.  I know that this doesn’t surprise you.  I don’t like it simply because I am a creature of the forest and I die without it.  I can, however, appreciate the desert.  I appreciate the beauty of the colors throughout the day. 

I respect the desert in the way that one respects the ocean; it is unpredictable and wild, and when you are in the desert, you mind your manners and respect what is around you, and understand that you are temporarily there, and you will be moving along, or else you will perish.  You are on borrowed time in the desert, just the same as you are when in the ocean.  Of course, I’m talking about the actual desert; not the cities, or the areas around water, but the actual desert. 

Like the ocean, it’s something to be admired from afar, visited briefly, and left how you found it.  To me, the desert reeks of ancient and unfounded history; the people who inhabit it are like early American pioneers; tough and a bit wily, just like the land.

I’ll preface this next part by saying that I am not the person who is usually trying to make conversation with folks in public. 

On the flight out, when boarding the plane, the guys in front of me were talking about their bows, because they could see them being loaded onto the plane.  So, of course, I had to ask them about it.  They said they were on their way to Utah to hunt for wild cats.  Which is a good thing, because I heard that they are running low on those :: insert heavy sarcasm. ::

All I have to say to that is Ew.

I was knocked out the first few hours of the flight, since it was a 7 AM flight, but I was awake the last hour or so.  When I woke up, we were approaching the desert.  I always have a window seat, so I had been looking out the window for a while, when the very tall Asian man sitting next to me leaned over and said, “What is that??”  I said, “It’s the desert.”  He said, “I don’t understand… why are there no trees or anything?!”  He could not comprehend. 

I got to talking to him for a while, and it turns out that he is on some sort of bucket-list quest (I didn’t press for details.)  He is from China, and he said he was on his way to the desert to ride ATVs through the desert.  He would see out of the window a few scattered trailers, and he asked what they were.  

When I tried to explain that people lived there, he could not wrap his mind around it.  “Why would they live in the middle of nowhere?  There are no trees – no life!”  I told him I didn’t understand it either, but some people just like that sort of thing.  Anyway, it was nice to talk to someone who was experiencing such things for the first time.  I hope he had a good time.

I flew into Vegas, and my darlingest preciousness dearest friend picked me up from the airport.  We then proceeded directly to In-N-Out Burger, as first order of business.

I want to take a minute to just express how very sad I am for you folks whom have never been to an In-N-Out Burger.  Frankly, I don’t know how you get by in life.  It’s a staple in the lives of everyone west of the Rockies.  It’s a block in the path of my life’s journey – a fond memory all through my childhood. 

Anyway, then we went to The Celine Store in Caesar’s Palace, to browse and otherwise pay our respects to The Queen.

Then I got my rental car and was on my way.

I spent a few wonderful days with my sister.  We went fishing and shopping and sheeping.

Feeshing

Sheeping

The lambs were just running back and forth, so cute!!

And, of course, the ol' family videos came out.

Me and my sister at Disney World 1k years ago.

My sister is one of the funniest people I know.  (It’s a family trait.)   For example, we were in the shopping mall in Laughlin, and I innocently proposed the idea of stopping by to visit a store which had several varieties of candy apples on display – caramel apples, snickers covered apples, M&Ms covered apples, rocky road apples – you name it, they had it.  We did our shopping first, and then stopped in the store on our way out.  Listen, we simply could not agree on an apple to split.  I don’t really like nuts in my food, and she only wanted the kinds that had nuts.  So, I kind of mentioned that we don’t really NEED one, we can just leave the store…  So we leave. 

We’re walking through the mall, and all of a sudden, I notice that my sister had been saying stuff under her breath for a while.  I take a listen, and I hear, very quiet, and very slow, “asssssssssssssshhhhooollllllllllee….”  

GASP!  How long had she been saying that?!   I kindly asked her if she was trying to say something.  She exploded, “I was just trying to have some FRUIT!  I was just trying to have some of my daily nutritional value, serving of fruits & veggies, and you ruined EVERYTHING! Assssshooooollllllee…”  

And this continued, the entire way back to the truck.  And then in the truck.  And then she called her wife and told on me.  I didn’t know what to say; I never had a justification.  

I later told my sister's wife, “We Miglins are very funny people!”  She said, without skipping a beat and without looking up, “That’s because you are all crazy people, and you can’t help yourselves.”   Touché.

So, the apple situation came up again about every 15-20 minutes for the rest of my trip.  I can still hear it at night whilst I slumber… “Assssssshoooolllllllle.”

Anyway, then I decided to bring the snow as I departed, and I brought the snow all the way to California. 

My sister said I am a snow fairy, and when I got back to the office, my colleagues were relentless in the Ice Queen jokes.  I can’t even deny it anymore. 

I got to L.A. to my other sister’s house, and we went out for New Year’s Eve to The Ivy in L.A..  

It was a very lovely meal, and I had never been there, so it was very nice.  Also it was fun to see all the cars worth twice as much $$ as my house costs roll up to the restaurant.  

I love that scene.  Given some sleep and night cream, and proper makeup and hair, I could really work that scene.

We went to the Rose Parade the next morning, and even though it was chilly, it was really so much fun. 

Then I hopped in the car and went to visit my niece in Long Beach overnight, followed by a very lovely brunch.  Afterwards, I went back to L.A. to meet my mother and stepdad at the Warner Brother’s studios, and did a tour, which included the Friends Central Perk set and a Harry Potter exhibit.

 So, that was my trip out West.  I don’t know what other vacations I will be planning this year.  What kind of journeys will you be making this year?