Friday, December 22, 2006

I appreciate your help... but...

My parents are so great. They're so helpful. So supportive. Always there when I need them; always go the extra mile. Really truly - they are and they do.

They even offered to help me with the legal fees when I have an attorney review the mediation agreement. (I think they were afraid I wouldn't do it otherwise...so just nipped it in the bud!) And that's really truly wonderful.

BUT (and you knew that was coming, didn't you?) when I told my mom yesterday that I was investigating attorneys... and how much it would cost & what the procedure is.. (give them the agreement, they look & see if there are any questions - or if I have any questions - then they talk to X's attorney & work it out.) my mom asked if...drumroll please.... if they could come with me when I meet with the attorney.

Me: (omigod, she didn't just ask that, did she?!?!?) Ummm, why? Mom: Well, there might be something you might forget to ask... or something I want to ask.. Me: Ummm - no. You cannot come. Mom: Why? Me: (why is this happening?!?) Because this is my life. Mom: (deep sigh) OK, but can I ask around for recommendations for attorneys? Me: Sure.

So you know, a huge weight on all this is that friggin' peanut gallery. I can talk all big, saying that "this is my life" and yet, and still -- I value what they say. But even more than that, it's the feel like everything has to pass through their scrutiny. Their judgement. And it's impossible. Now this. So really, however this all ends... I will never hear the end of it either from X - or from them. It was "too much" or it was "too little." I am, as always, as it was through our relationship - in the middle.

I have to separate. I know. I have to be able to just not worry about the peanuts... but damn, they're so loud and persistent.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

What am I?!?


OK guys, say it loud and clear: "You are a Dork." Yes. I am. I know, you're thinking.... "But you're so cool, how could that be?!?" Allow me to explain:

Yesterday evening I met my sister at The Walter Reade Theater in Lincoln Center to see a showing of Little Miss Sunshine and a Q&A with Alan Arkin - who stars in the film.

Now, I love, love, love Alan Arkin - but mostly from his work as singer in the children's folk group The Babysitters. I grew up listening to it, and actually found a CD of their greatest hits on EBay that I got soon after Max was born. I played it to death.

So, the whole time during the Q&A my mind is frantically working... how, how, how could I ask him about The Babysitters? And really, what do I want to ask? I don't have a question... it's more like a "thank-you." More like a "wow, you're the guy." More like "I really feel like I want you to know how much those records meant to me as a child." And it's funny, now that I'm thinking about it - because why would I want him to know that? And why would I think he would care? Although isn't being an actor all about positive affirmation?
So, anyhow, no - I do not get my nerve up. I can't do it. I don't really know the words to say, and also... well... public speaking - not my thing.
So, Q&A ends, my sister & I go out to the bathroom. I start buttoning up to leave & she goes back in to see the movie (I left before the movie. My parents were exhausted & they were staying w/the kids. I wanted to give them a break.) I look up & who is there... but... ALAN ARKIN. Before I know it I walk up to him and say: "It took me all night to get up my nerve, but I have to tell you - I grew up with The Babysitters Records. I love them. I play the songs for my kids." He looks at me like this is the last thing in the WORLD he wants to talk about. Do I stop? No, I do not. He says "You can still get the records?" I say "Oh yes, I got a CD on EBay." (Wrong, wrong WRONG thing to say!!) I'm kind of touching my heart and I say something like "I just want you to know how much I enjoyed it." And he says (still looking like he just wants this to be over with) "Well thank you - and thank you for getting up the nerve." And bright red, I walk away.
I walk out and play the conversation over and over in my head, and as I'm walking down the street I realize that I'm making facial contortions and actually WINCING to myself. (Well, not really to myself, people could see - my face screwed up in the pain of embarrassment!) Oy. You know that feeling, when you hash and rehash something and you just can't even bear to think about it because the embarrassment is too painful. Yup.
Today I woke up and was like well... maybe he just doen't like to be approached by people in general so that was the painful part for him -not necessarily The Babysitters part. So I'm a bit more... settled with it. So I guess I can save the Dork lable for another time - which I'm sure will present itself...