For those of you out there that don't have a Rockstar Storytellers CD yet (what? Comment here if you want one - 2 discs, $10, and we'll ship anywhere! ANYWHERE! Yes, we'll ship to Mars, Gjythphtzbol.) and haven't heard my storytelling stylings, I was featured on the bonus reel of MPR's In The Loop. Download the podcast here. And this dude mentioned us on his blog!

On a completely different note, here's the catch phrases from 30 Rock that I will be easing into my lexicon:

Ya Burnt!
By the Hammer of Thor!
Blerg!

On another completely different note, I'm reading Steve Martin's autobiography and flying through it. That dude is one inspirational muther-effer.

And on another completely different note, my mother, and I quote via an email message she sent me, "got a little swell-headed from reading your blog and review of the recipe book; it made it all seem worth while and glad that I followed through with it." As well she should be.

Good night! And thanks for reading.

Booty! (As in pirates, not rap videos)

For the past two years, the McLean family has done a Secret Santa gift draw so that we don't have to get something for everyone. Instead, you get to focus on one person and get them their entire wishlist if you can. I like this much better because I love getting people gifts, but, as I've expounded many times in the past, I hate the stress of the holidays mostly due to the extreme consumerist mindset and making a list of numerous people for whom to get something. This year, I got my mom and she got me! And due to her tiny wishlist, I was easily able to get her everything (3 CDs, an inexpensive watch - she loved the one I picked out for her, and a donation to an organization that is helping to eliminate child abuse). And with Mom as my Secret Santa, I got a lot of my hypocritically long wishlist, including 30 Rock: Season One, Steve Martin's autobiography, warm winter clothes and pj's, and this beauty:



That's right. Momma's got herself a proper winter coat. Minnesota winter - you are not going to take the stranglehold of last year on me in 2009. Oh hell no. I am going to be outside and feeling as warm as if it were Fringe Festival Season. I sent my family my wishlist with all the underwear I would need for a comfortable winter when I was like, "Wait jest a dern minute here... what I really need is a new coat." And viola. I'm super grateful my family can afford to get me such items instrumental to survival in this climate since I can't afford it for myself.

But my favorite gift by far was something I didn't even ask for.



When I received my gifts in the mail, I got "permission" to open all the soft presents, ie, the warm items of clothing, right away (about a week before Christmas) because I would need them immediately. But this was a hard gift that I waited until Christmas Eve to open and I was floored. My mother compiled recipes from her mother's and my dad's mother's culinary repertoires as well as her own concoctions and created this amazing cookbook which she also gave to my brother and Sam and our cousins!!
Check out this amazingness!! A full index and dividers!!! (I also love that the cover image is a world being recycled. Nice metaphor, Mom!)



And Mom also wrote this beautiful forward (not shown) and dedicated the book to my grandmothers:



Wow. One of my favorite gifts ever - it totally made me feel this connectedness to my family all over the world through the past few generations of food we've enjoyed together.


Honorable Mention are gifts from my friends: Phillip got me a book a pros pros to our conversations/collaboration. Trevor got me a new spatula. The Jacksons sent an "anonymous" gift (there was no gift card, but I know who it's from, you tricky dicks) - a fondue pot and cookbook!! I got cookies from Marne and Jen and lots of love with my Christmas dinner at the Abbeys'. The Abbeys also got me a Blue Sky Guide for 2009 , some notebooks, an awesome water bottle (from Anna, Ross' sister), and these rad and nerdy pj pants:



Yeah, when I'm wearing these, don't stand too close because I'm prolly swinging my Wii-mote wildly. And I don't wear the wrist strap.

I'm really grateful to be showered with such gifts and luxuries.

Oh, and I also cut my bangs which has inspired a Princess Leia-esque hairdo:



Peace!!!

Awwww... They're so CUTE!

We Are Family

Yesterday was my friend Catherine's 30th birthday. Catherine and I have known each other since we were 6 and 7 years old, respectively, she being a grade lower than I. So, knowing that she is back in California and turning 30 is just a slightly weird feeling. It's as if your own 30th birthday (even though I have nooooo idea how that feels and won't for another 12 years) isn't enough to remind you how time is flying by. When a lifelong friend who is 6 months younger than you (again, this is hypothetical) rounds such a milestone, it's as if it really hits home.

Yesterday was also my grandfather's 82nd birthday. I spoke with him and my step-Gramma, Dorothy, and as we talked, I sunk deeper into another one of my descending waves. (I was explaining to my mother a half-hour later that my moods are up and down these days, and though the difference between them isn't like mania/depression, I definitely have good days and bad. Though the good days these days exist below the ideal line of happiness. I would deduce this means I'm simply depressed and not bipolar, which is quite a relief. Although I'm also not a doctor. I'll take what I can get I suppose). I love talking with my grandfather because he is a gruff, funny, and yet tender man and I know he loves and admires me very much. I can't help but feel like the loser in my family. Now that my brother, my cousin Eric, and I are all grown up (I'm the oldest), I'm the one that has the least amount of "adult credits" to my name. My brother has been married for four years, is about to start school again to become an electrical engineer (this is what Grandpa tells me), and is making a pretty good living anyway working on boats. And my cousin just had a baby and works a respectable corporate job. Growing up, I had always felt like the star grandchild, the one with the most promise in life. Now, especially as the oldest, I feel like the loser: single, financially unstable, and still chasing after her childhood dream and not selling her soul for money, stability, and a family. I'm not accusing my dear brother and cousin of doing this, I just know that my soul calls me elsewhere and I know it's not the beaten path and I also know this makes me appear to be a loser who can't get her shit together. And granted, when I say "know," I know this means how I perceive the situation. And whether there actually is a situation. I suppose I just am feeling a lack of that admiration I received as the over-achieving oldest grandchild and now that my brother and cousin are growing up to be the men we always knew they could be, I'm left out because I've slowed down in my progression.

Although I really haven't.

I don't know why my grandfather's opinion matters as much as it does and it's not like he's really given it to me the way I see it. I'm clearly projecting my own insecurities about the life I've chosen upon myself in the form of his supposed disapproval. We ended the phone call with "I Love Yous" and it was admittedly not as harrowing a call on my self-esteem as I might paint it, but the interactions throughout the past few years have just been getting decreasingly "I'm proud of you," and increasingly "look at what your brother and cousin have." And the residue builds in my memories. At least my grandmother died knowing I was going somewhere.

Clearly, I'm looking down the tunnel of self-doubt and not taking into account the birthday & Christmas cards & donations for my work with notes that say "We're so proud of you." I say this with absolutely no irony and a genuine sense of "duh."

I lay on my bed with tears falling down my face after the phone call. I called Catherine next after I breathed myself off the edge and had a light-hearted chat for a minute. Upon hanging up with her, I knew my next step was to call someone to get a little breath of hope. And the only person I could think to talk to was my mother, although as most mother/daughter relationships go, I was scared that I would not find the solace I needed. Thank goodness I was wrong.

I talked to my mother for the shortest hour ever and she totally lifted my spirits and made me feel like the winner I am. It's amazing to experience my parents' spiritual awakenings as I experience my own. I realize this is no coincidence, again just a matter of my perspective. I am so lucky, no matter how much dysfunction or screaming or resentment exists, I have grown up within the home of two still-happily married people who continue to support me through their faith in my dreams. It's never been perfect and I don't expect it to be, but the words my mother imparted to me last night were exactly what I needed to hear. She is herself living through a time of little work and trying to find things to keep her occupied (like relearning the piano! Awesome!) and reminding herself that in this downtime is to be found peace and rejuvenation. This is congruous to my life here in the Tundra, where I am sitting at a desk all day then sitting in front of the TV or on my bed all night. There's a lot to do here, but lack of funds at this moment prohibits me from doing much... at least according to my limited research. Mom reminded me that I'm going through a tough time right now: a new home in a new city, a new angle on a relatively new relationship, a new climate, a new way of life. I have to allow myself a period of adjustment. My argument was that I'm wasting time. That every minute I'm not doing something to further my career, be it writing, acting, playing banjo, making contacts, seeing a show, performing an open mic, getting out there... but she assured me that I'm where I need to be and I have all the time in the world. I tell myself this frequently, but sometimes I need to hear it from someone else, especially someone older and wiser. I hung up the phone with a renewed sense of direction and purpose.

And not to discount my father's phone call to me this week acknowledging my tough times and bestowing his normal feel-good stories about the people in his life and making me feel really happy that he's enjoying his life so much right now.

My parents rule. I love you, Mom and Dad. (And Grandpa & Dorothy too. Everyone.)