So, once, there was this bad day.

Wait, wut?  Me, have a bad day?

Yeah, I know.  Unthinkable.  There it is though, it happened.

It was just one of those days.  Not so great a day a work, I tried to find a dress that didn't look like a mumu for the wedding.

Side bar:

 Ever notice that when you go shopping, you see a dress on a mannequin, or displayed on the wall, and you think, oh!  That's cute!  then you get it on and it looks like shit?

Also, when you pick up a pair of pants, or a shirt, and you think, damn, that's fucking huge!  You take same shirt to try it on..and, funny enough, it's not so big after all.

 Carrying on...

On this same fateful day, I got to thinking of my mom.  She'll have been gone a year in May.  I was more reminiscing than sad.  I really haven't been sad since she's been gone.  More on that later...

A bit later, same day, I heard that song "We Are Young" by Fun.  You know that song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv6dMFF_yts&ob=av3e

That song hasn't really done anything for me.  Until this day.  I listened to the words.  Really listened.  It hit me like a friggin' blaster shot to the chest.  This song describes my twenties.  I thought back then about how I was going to blaze a trail, do something amazing.  I had all the time in the world. 

But I didn't.

I turned 25.

I turned 30

I turned 35

I turned 40

I turned 45......

I was turning around in circles, chasing my tail like a fucking dog, not going anywhere.  "Youth is wasted on the young."  No truer words were spoken.  On this day, those words stabbed me in the fucking heart.

And I cried.

Harder than I ever cried at the death of my mom.  I was bawling at the death of my youth, death of my hopes.  The fact that I was bawling harder about my doused fire than my mother made me cry harder.

Thankfully, the nasty, fog like creature known as Chemical Imbalance finally cleared.  My friend Wes posted something on Facebook.  He was commenting on a video,  how it made him " ponder how sometimes we are more in love with who we wish to be, than who we presently are."

That little fucker.  How dare he make me think about myself.

Granted, most of my dark curtain had a lot to do with wacko hormones.  I'm sure there is something of a truth there.  So I really started thinking, pondering about who I wish to be.

I have an incredible daughter.  A good man.  Great friends.  What else do I need?  Well, I could use a few thousand to get completely out of debt, but you know...it's manageable.

Who do I wish to be?  Me.  Just me.  There were so many years when I was something else.  Trying to find myself.  I tried finding myself in husbands, in religion, in partying.  Turns out, I was right here all along.  To quote the philosopher, Katy Perry, "this is the part of me that you'll never ever ever take away from me".

I have the life I want. 

Let's take that trip back to my unsadness about my mom:

Once I could start thinking right again, I revisited that strain.  Why wasn't I sad?  I know why.  I know that ultimately, when she needed something, I helped her as best I could.  I talked to her every weekend, let her talk to Jilly as much as possible, and told her I loved her as much as I could.  To summarize, I had no regrets in my relationship with her when she died.  There was, and is,  no reason to be sad.   I do think, though, that she was unfulfilled in her life.  It's probably what caused her alcoholism.  Her need to run away from problems.  I can see where I could follow in her footsteps, if I didn't take hold of my own worth,  as well as the worth of my circle of family and friends.  She did the best she could, with what she had to work with.  I'm just lucky to have more to work with than she did.

My mom.

So there ya go.  I know, impossible to believe that I might actually have bad days, but I do.  Like I tell Jilly, it is ok to be sad, or mad.  Our feelings are there for a reason.  But don't stay in that place of sadness, or madness.  Get it out and grow from it. 

I still need to find a fucking dress.

Well, finally.  Howie and I are doing the nasty.  No, not THAT...we're getting married.  Not that either one of us really believe in it.  We're both pretty much under the belief that it's a control mechanism for government and religion.  For two people to really love each other and are bound to each other, the piece of paper means  nothing.  It goes back to the early days when it was all about merging of properties and controlling the power.  (Do the research, you know it's true)

However, there is the fact that it DOES give a better tax rate.  And it does protect us if (FSM forgive) one of us passes away. 

Wills are great to a point (yes, we have that too), but, should something happen to one or the other, that piece of paper that says we're bound holds great power.  He needs immediate access to my benefits, my funds, my estate.  And vice-versa.  So there it is.  If anyone is having a "traditional" in the sense of merging of properties, it is us.

So our wedding will not be traditional in most senses.  It isn't that we're mocking weddings, we just don't think they're necessary to show one's love and commitment to one another.  Since we're doing it anyway, may as well have a party.

Which is what I want. 

Anyone who knows me, knows I love to throw parties.  Because I love my friends, and I love my family.  And that's what we're doing.

I am sorry, I will not be hosting the Cinco de Mayo party.  But that's ok.  We're making up for it with a wedding before the world ends.

Back to the cliches...

These are all the things we will not be doing:

Expensive white dress.  Really??  Do I really need to look like a princess?  I'd rather be dressed like Indiana Jones, an adventurer.  However, I don't think Monique will let me...

Big wedding party.  No. 

Bridesmaids dresses that look too frilly and, guess what?  You won't ever wear them again.

Tuxes.  Really?  Have you met Howie?  Is he a tux guy? No.

Live doves.  Sorry Villate.  It isn't happening.

Huge ceremony.  Uh uh.  It starts at six.  It might last 10 minutes.  Fifteen, if you're really lucky.  So don't be late cuz you may miss it....

Expect people to be dressed up.  Are ya kidding me??  Be COMFORTABLE!!  No one gives a shit what you're wearing.  Howie and I certainly don't.  It's all casual folks.

The reading of 1Corinthians.  "Love is..blah blah blah" Howie and I know what love is.  It's digging in and not moving. It's being there but not smothering.  It's know when to shut up with each other.  And besides...duh.  I'm an atheist.  You may get a reading from Hitchens...

The Wedding March.  No frikkin' way.

I'll be adding to this list periodically.  So you may want to check back.

What you will find:

Love

Peace.

Fun.

Alcohol.

Non alcohol for my non drinking friends

Dancing

Games.

Flying pigs.

And food.

So, yeah, you need to be there.  It's going to be LEGEN...

Wait for it, and I hope you're not lactose intolerant because the next part is..

DARY....

Don't worry...it's going to be a great wedding

Updates:

Limos.  Seriously?  A cab is cheaper.

Chicken dance.  Ah hell to the no.

First dance.  Why?  You may as well call it the first and last ever dance

Feeding each other cake.  What kind of craziness is that?!?

President's Weekend is one of my favorite weekends.

Not because I get a three day holiday (although, that is pretty sweet...) but because it's Farpoint weekend in Timonium, Maryland!!

I'm not a huge convention attender.  I started in 1994, when I lived in Florida.  I traveled to Shoreleave in Cockeysville Maryland with my good friends Jack Eaton and Jim Cozine (Towaway and Cozi).  Three big people driving 15 hours in a 95 Dodge Neon.  Wow.  I don't even remember who the guests were.  All I knew is that there were hundreds of people like me that loved Star Trek and all sorts of science fiction and it was one big party!

Once I had my child, I continued to go, but not with her.  You see, it is a huge, weekend long party, and I just assume not have Jilly have to deal with the amount of alcohol experienced.

It didn't stop her from wanting to go, though.

So once she got old enough, three years ago, it was time to take her to a convention.  A smaller one, but not less of one.  Farpoint.  We've been going and have a great time.  This year was no different.

It begins with a four hour drive to Maryland from Binghamton, NY.  She is an excellent passenger!  She doesn't need to stop to have a cigarette, or to have coffee every other hour.  We make one pit stop to stretch, and keep on trooping along.

We get there on Friday night and get all of our registration stuff, so we can plan out the next day.  The convention starts on Friday, but we're there late enough that we miss most of the panels and stuff.  So the next day we're off. 

We start in by checking out the dealer's room.

Part of the dealer's room from up high.

It is very disappointing this year.  There were many empty tables, and absolutely no t-shirt vendors, mug vendors, shot glasses, and very few low ticket items.  We still walked around, just in case we find something.  It doesn't take long.  I was thinking about all the stuff I had wanted to buy for souvenirs, but there was nothing!

We then checked out the art auction.  There are some great pieces of art to be had for a very reasonable price, should you bid on them and win.  I get my bidding number and proceed to pick out a few things, one of which is a handbag made from material that looks like the universe! Very cool.

We then go out to lunch.  The best ribs in town are found at the Corner Stable.  I only get to eat ribs twice a year, so I refuse to miss out!

Best ribs EVAR!!

Jilly and I proceed to have more fun than most at the restaurant.  We end up in a total giggle fest when she spilled her cup of ice.  Well, it was funny!

We head back so I can get a picture or two with the stars of this venue, Michael Hogan and Kate Vernon.

Jilly with Mike Hogan of BSG                       Kate Vernon of BSG and Jilly.

They are both very nice people and talked to us for a bit while signing autographs. 

There were a couple of panels that I wanted to catch before the Masquerade.  Jilly decided to go upstairs and chill out before then, so I went and geeked out.  One panel I went to was Geek parenting.  It was amazing to find out that all of our kids were very similar.  It was good to make suggestions and hear some good ideas.  I was also relieved to find out I'm not the only geek parent who isn't into Lord of the Rings...

We then went into the Masquerade.  The costumes were great!  One child was dressed in a tux and sunglasses, with a light coming from his chest..he was Tony Stark!  The funniest was a group of Stormtroopers with Darth Vader.  They all had aprons on, and carried signs.  The first sign said Come to the Dark side.  The second one said, We Have Cookies...

Very cute.

During intermission, they had the auction.  The auction is for items that three or more people bid on.  It raises money for the charitie of choice for Farpoint.  This year, it was the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF is an advocate of freedom of speech and consumer rights in the world of digital media) and the Julien Fleming Memorial Fund (assists families with the costs of caring for critically ill children).  The auction usually turns into a fun time, as the celebrities come out to get people riled into bidding more.  Michael Hogan came out with his convention badge that was labeled "Hound Dog", and was signed by him.  Guess who won that bid?

Michael Hogan's convention badge

After that fun, was time for Ten-Forward.  Or, dancing all night.  Which Jilly decided was necessary for her to do until the very last dance.  She even did the Macarena, danced to the Imperial March:

Only geeks...

We stayed up til 3:30 am.  While she danced, I got to hang out with my friends, and meet some new ones.  Some of the people were talking about the big storm heading up and about leaving early.  Big Storm?  They were predicting 1-2 inches...I scoffed.

The next day we picked up our art auction items (which also included some Tribbles and a cool drawing of the ship Serenity), went to lunch, then headed home.

It was a most awesome weekend, and maybe sometime, you just may join us!!

So, yeah, we had Thanksgiving yesterday.   And it was great.  I like to think I'm making memories for Jillian.  Good memories.  I know.  Some of mine from childhood were not the greatest, so I try not to over compensate, but I have to say, I think I'm doing pretty good for her.

As I was making a turkey, ok, TWO turkeys (yes, two.  One in the rotisserie, one in the oven) yesterday, it got me thinking about my mom.  My mom was a terrible cook.  Maybe not so much as terrible, but she made things that I really didn't like so much.  For example:

Cauliflower dipped in egg and cooked in tomato sauce.

Hamburger with green beans and tomato sauce.

Hot dogs with onions in tomato sauce.

We were super poor and I think tomato sauce was cheap. 

See?  It just was not the greatest.  But one meal that she loved to cook (and wasn't too bad at...) was the Thanksgiving meal.  She would use the food stamps (multi-colored papers of embarrassment as there was no benefit cards in those days) and whatever money my step-dad had to make a huge feast that we would be eating for a week on.  She would literally find the biggest frozen turkey she could find.  Our turkeys would never be smaller than 24 pounds.  These bad boys could have really been a small child. 

She would get up at some ungodly hour in the morning so she could get make about 50 pounds of stuffing to fill the enormous turkey cavities.  She had this huge plastic bowl that was left over from the 60's.  It had that sickly green tone to it.  Somehow the stuffing was made to look more gangrenous green than brown in it.  You know what though?  It tasted great. 

The gargantuan bird barely fit in the oven that we had, but she made it fit.  She slathered the whole bird in real butter, I'd say about a whole stick, so it would be all lubed up, not for a crispy skin, but to fit into the oven.   Although you could hear the metal creaking under the pressure of this great bird, it held.

The smell of the bird cooking was my alarm clock.  It always smelled so good!!.  She had it all planned out to be done by noon, so we didn't have to wait till dinner to eat, and my step dad could watch football on the tiny black and white TV.   I would would get up in the morning after the bird had been roasting for a few hours.  My mom would make me a breakfast of eggs and stuffing.  I kid you not.  But I loved it.  She made the best stuffing! 

I would then watch the parades.  After my nephew Ryan was born, I'd watch with him, or if my other nephew Richard was there, it would be him and me.  There was always someone that my mom was taking care of.  Ryan eventually was raised by my mother, so there would be a picture every year of him next to a turkey that was a big as he was.  But anyway...

Dinner would finally be ready.  And I'm not sure why, but it would put everyone in a good mood.  I was used to my step-father just being a plain bastard all of the time, for some reason, this particular holiday even put him at ease. And we would eat.  And eat, and eat.  She wasn't a baker, but there was always store bought pumpkin pies.  It may not have been the Norman Rockwell picture of a Thanksgiving, but it was all we had, and it was a sort of tradition being made for me.

I think that is why when I have Thanksgiving dinner, I want all my friends to be here, if they don't have any one else around.  I remember how this one holiday was good, and peaceful (and trust me, there weren't a lot of peaceful moments in that apartment), and I want that to be for my friends, and my extended family.  And I want Jilly to have a tradition at Thanksgiving that is memorable and happy.  We eat...and eat and eat and eat for days on end.  I like having a dinner around a table with everyone there.  It's nice to talk about what's going on, although Howie's mom is always up to date on everyone and generally already knows what's happening.

Usually, after dinner is over, the "Pie People" as we like to call them are immediately cutting into the pies.  I figure the the signal hasn't caught up to their brain yet that there is no more room for food, so they try and gobble it all up before it does tell them to stop.  

The older folks will go home to let their stomachs expand, while the younger ones hang around and play games.  We stayed up until 1:30 am playing games and laughing our behinds off!!  It is so much love and fun. 

Thanksgiving (slash-Friendsgiving) is my favorite holiday.  We can take away every other stupid holiday, but this is one I never want to be rid of.  And I hope that Jilly remembers what a great day it was, full of family and love.