You have to start somewhere

I thought I'd show you the best one first.

This may not be for everyone.

Some of you may be acquainted with my deep distrust if not frank dislike of serious messages delivered through electronic media. Don't flirt over text. Don't break up over facebook. Don't bicker over blog. To me it seems undignified.

But today, distance and situational impotence provoke me to turn here--a corner of the interwebs I'm sure hardly anyone visits anymore except in the hopes of seeing wedding pictures (which I promise will come one day)--to tell you what I can about my parents.

First. They're the kind of parents who said swears even when we were young. They're the kind who told us at young ages that they were deviant kids, and who described to us with a glimmer in their eyes (sometimes a wink, sometimes a tear) their forms of rebellion. They're the kind who really really couldn't wait to give us the sex talk because more than anything they loved to watch us squirm. They're the kind who didn't leave the room to have a fight. And I start with all this because I think it's important to point out that they are flawed, but in that rare way where they never expected us to think that they weren't.

Second. The most important thing they've taught me: they would always love me, more than anything, no matter what.

Third. Some key things I've learned about them (by watching and testing, as all kids do...)

They're honest--more honest than the vast majority of people I believe I've met in my adult life.

They mean harm to no one. Not a soul. Ever.

They're learning as they go.

They believe, above most things (but not all), in the inherent humor of all situations.

Behind those big mouths, they feel things very very deeply, both for themselves and for others.

Fourth. The most important thing I think I can say to them right now: I believe in you.

Since there's nothing I can do to stop the hurting, I thought I would at least stand for the truth and declare the unassailable fact that John and Lynn Forester have only ever tried to do what they truly thought was right, and when they've failed (as all do) it's been the result of all-too-common human frailty, rather than malicious and selfish plotting. I've never been more proud and grateful than in this moment to have been lucky enough to be their daughter.

Looking good!

Grandma, I hope you're around for another thirty years. But when you die, I call dibs on the muumuu collection.

Z is for Zoë, that's good enough for me

The summer Tyler and Leah got married I dated a guy whose best friend had just published his first book, Breeding Between the Lines: Why Interracial People are Healthier and More Attractive. Clearly my first niece proves his thesis.

And so, on the eve (hopefully--she's 8 days over now) of the birth of Rachel & Jorge's daughter, I say huzzah for immigrants and adoption and hope and endurance and the clash and mixing of cultures. It's a big beautiful feathery colorful skyfilled world, and somehow it seems to keep creating more things in it for me to love.

The TV fairy strikes again...

Still no jetpack.

My Everest

Dearest reader, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first...

The good news, did you say? Well alright then, you're the boss.

On March 21st, I'm marrying this guy:

Yikes! Maybe he isn't making the best impression. Let's try that again...

OK, still a little weird. I guess he's just a little shy of strangers. Let's give him one more try...

Aww, that's better. Say hi to Cameron--you may remember him from such posts as Thanks for your concern, Time Out, and that old favorite Singing Solves Everything, Part Two. Oh, and say hi to Caroline, too (she's just hangin'). So maybe we're a little slouchy, but we're in love and hope you will all see fit to share in our joy despite our poor posture. Now for the bad news...

I have to purchase a wedding dress. THIS IS MY EVEREST. There is so much I could tell you about the many horrors I've been subjected to during my brief foray into the bridal industry---it's cold, it's sheeny (not shiny--shiny is good, sheeny is very very bad), it's self-entitled, and most of all it's overpriced---but as I have come to find there are many, many, MANY blogs dedicated to these subjects alone, I will spare you and instead share the one bright light in the mists. Behold:

I could get married in Alexis Carrington's wedding dress. OMH!

Lovely #5

I wish J-wood would work on this instead of robots that are destined to one day destroy us all (thanks digg)...