red hair and black leather

Otto Jerome Moravec passed away this morning after a short decline. He is survived by his loving wife, Dorothea, his children, Diane, Jerry, and Richard, and his grandchildren, Juliana, Justin, Noah, Laura, and Kristina. He was much loved and will be much missed.

J & grandpa sledding

At the bar tonight, I mentioned to K (after he gave me a backrub that loosened me up enough to give me a headache - I am one large bundle of stress) that I'm feeling very lonely right now. He nodded, looked around, and said, "Well, at least you're among family."

That I am. That I am.

Thanks to the triple-punch of massive dentistry, truck accidents, and the IRS, we're broke. Very broke, and have been for almost 2 months now. I had to scrap plans to take vocal classes, we're not going on any trips any time soon (we still haven't gone on honeymoon), we're not producing any shows - it's not as bad as it could be, obviously. We're not in danger of eviction (although Maruchan Ramen has been a household staple for a while). It's still not been comfy.

So, when the Guthrie announced a Directing Master Class with Joe Dowling, I looked at the price tag, whimpered, and hoped that the class would be repeated whenever we had some extra money. Zach and his mother had different plans, and presented me with a very early birthday present - the money for the class.

It's possibly the most perfect present ever. It's exactly what I wanted and needed right now. Class size is very limited, so I might not get in, but that doesn't matter as much as the fact that I have such wonderful people in my life. I cried when I saw the check.

Just perfect.



IOW - The Manolo, he is very wise:

This, it is one of the things the Manolo he loves about the blogging, the community of the peoples who can together solve the problems, or at least talk the problems into the the ground.

Day One - Arrive in town, be greeted by loving relatives. Repair to a riverside cantina where we can observe the mating habits of homo northernus redneckus and nosh on authentically native deep-fried fish and chips. Go home, realize my room is one of the brightest in the house due to strategically placed skylights that have no shades in them. Also realize that it is bloody hot and there is no fan in the house. Fall asleep anyway.

Day Two - Arise early, still on home time. Attempt a run with mother and dog, and only achieve half of the intended distance, due to ungodly heat and jet-lag. Visit with grandparents and be shown things that I will apprarently inherit when grandmother shuffles off this mortal coil. Wince. Shower, cool off, and go shopping for food with which to cook the evening's meal. Feel like the stupidest of tourists when shocked by prices for watermelon. Oy. After meal, which includes grandparents and stepfather's close-to-senile mother, go to karaoke with mother. See a dear friend or three, sing "I Touch Myself" on a dare from the KJ (who is a friend of myself and my mother), drink champagne cocktails, realize exactly how far out of place I am.

Day Three - Wake early, decide to roll right back over and go to sleep again, at least until hangover wears off. Go to lunch with mother and grandmother and some friends of my mother who happen to care for me as well. Terrible service, terrible food, good company. After lunch, go to Fred Meyer's for a fan for my bedroom, as it is still ungodly hot, and promptly lose grandmother in the aisles. Find grandmother, purchase fan, go home, take a nap. A long one. Wake up, go to dinner with mother, stepfather, and stepfather's mother, and then join grandparents at movie theater to see Around The World In 80 Days. Wince through the movie, go home, have ice cream, go to sleep in newly darkened room with new fan cooling it off. A bit.

Day Four - Wake early. Again. Get up and go for a 4-mile run with mother and dog. No shade, no water, just heat and dust and sun. Die. Complain about dying and about global warming, which is causing it to be 90 bloody degrees in the bloody middle of bloody Alaska, just 100 bloody miles below the bleedin' Arctic Circle. Stick tongue out at mother as she laughs and soaks up the heat. Stagger home, shower, go shopping, come sit in uncooled loft of piano store and type up update.

Tonight - see performance of kid's musical theater camp. Mother wrote the script. It's very cheesy.

Tomorrow - drive 2 hours to go whitewater rafting and eat pizza.

Monday - Home, sweet home. Civilization.

One year ago.

I am so very fucking grateful for and to each and every one of you. For the chance to know you, even a little bit, for the chance to expand and connect and support and be supported. This has not been the best of years, but you all made it a little bit better.

Thank you.

T'was fun, even with all the dramatical happenings.

Wednesday, worked, teched, and then went to the Market for karaoke. Many people were there, some that I hadn't seen in a while. Good times, even if I only got to sing once ("Slide").

Thursday, got up early and Zach and I cleaned the entire apartment, top to bottom. There was an amusing moment when Z didn't have anything to do (he was waiting for me to finish sweeping so he could start mopping), and nowhere to rest. 3 minutes later, I realized that I couldn't hear him and went looking for him, eventually finding him hiding in a closet. With the cat. I damn near died from the cuteness.

After cleaning and (completely gratuitous) food shopping had been accomplished, we went over to his aunt's house for their family celebration. That was.... interesting. It was the first Real big gathering since Rob died. Easter was only 5 days after Rob's death, and everyone was still sort of in shock. Zach doesn't remember a thing about Easter. So, Thursday was a little hard for the family, especially since Rob's birthday was only 6 days earlier. I'm sad to say that I didn't quite realize how badly it was affecting Zach until we were driving home. The gathering was good, of course. Just difficult.

Got home, got prepped, and our guests started arriving. We officially had Too Much Food by the second arrival, and the food just kept coming. Sally made the turkey and wonderful green beans as well as a double challah, RPK & Carl brought frozen veggies because they are boys through and through, Bob brought an amazing wine, Glenn brought a gorgeous array of cheeses, David brought pumpkin cheesecake, Matt brought 2 pumpkin pies, Kelly arrive late and brought another pumpkin cheesecake and a layered spinach torta thing. Zach brought spinach dip & Hawaiian bread, and I made mashed potatoes, roasted root vegetables, and banana-cranberry bread. We were stuffed little monkeys. After eating, we played games and watched Eddie Izzard and just generally enjoyed each other's company.

I did not go to work on Friday. Too tired. I did run, and then discovered Zach's truck had gone kerflooey again. So, I went to tech, had dinner with Carl, and opened A Tuna Christmas. It's a fine show, if a completely whoring one. :) The guys in it, Michael and Jim, are two very lovely human beings, and are very patient, all things considered. It's their third year doing the show, and the producer was very slow to get them dressers (2 of which are absolutely needed), deck crew, and board ops. I would have been screaming in frustration long before they even let on anything was wrong. So. The downside to the darn show is that I have Christmas carols in my head, and the country versions at that. Gah. At least I'm not working retail, though.

Saturday was a two-show day, and I didn't go home between shows. Just stayed at the showboat, slept and read scripts. After the second show, Michael dropped me off at Zach's, and Zach and I stayed up for a while, talking and looking at house listings. Eeeep.

Sunday, exercised, did the show, ran 9 miles, picked up Zach from his closing show and went to a party at his director's house. That was quite fun, as it was the cast of The Foreigner, which Peter directed, and Othello, which Peter is in. The annoying part was the presence of Norm Coleman and the producer of The Foreigner and of Tuna Christmas sucking up to him the entire time. Gah. However, Peter's wife Karen owns 4 horses and needs people to help ride them. We got into a huge discussion of riding styles and favorite breeds and whatnot, and she might let me go ride her horses. Eeeeeeee! It's not even residual 12-year-old reaction that makes me so excited about this. This summer, when I went riding with Carl, I remembered how much I enjoyed it, and how natural it feels for me to be in the saddle. I'd love it if that worked out.

Um, what else was there? Well, Zach is sick with a nasty non-productive cough and a sinus infection, so naturally he has a show opening on Friday. Sigh. My marathon training continues apace. I had to reschedule a play reading because I took the tech gig. I felt a little wistful last night when talking to Angie and Brian, who are getting married this month. She's very excited and having fun with the planning and her mom and family's helping and yaddayaddayadda. I guess it's partially that I don't have a very cohesive family. We all love each other, of course (I may be excluding the Baptist Missourians from this, as I never talk to them), but we're all very independent and well, rather lazy when it comes to communication. I didn't even know that my aunt Karen was going blind until a year or so after she told my grandparents. Yipes. And hearing Angie's tales and watching Zach's aunts flock around his mom is wonderful and heart-warming, but it makes me a little wistful for something I've never had. Which is silly, because I'm incredibly grateful for my chosen family. Even though I have a very hard time keeping in touch with them, too. Le sigh.

So, over this Thanksgiving weekend, what did I remind myself that I'm grateful for?

- My family, both blood and chosen.
- My health.
- The Buffistas. You all have held my hand, smacked me when I needed a clue, given great advice, and just generally been there.
- The amazing human capacity for love.
- Champagne.

Thanks.

Rob Curtis died at 1:30 a.m. on April 15, 2003. He is survived by his wife, Sadie, his son, Zachary, his father, his brother, and his sister. He will be missed.