oh brother

October 28, 2010 | Filed Under Uncategorized | 1 Comment 

We have a similar sense of humor, which I think the picture illustrates, though I think my brother, Ken, and my dad are more similar in that respect. We are both home bodies in that at the end of the day we are both pretty happy staying in. Neither of us enjoy going to places where there are going to be a lot of people or that will be generally crowded.

I have been the lead singer in various rock bands over the years and my dad use to sing in a group as well. I didn’t know about this until after I had been singing for a while and my mother told me about it. My dad says it’s no big deal, and that he just blended in with the rest of the singers in the group. Either way, finding out my dad was a singer makes his Buddy Holly look all the more awesome to me.



bellies

October 21, 2010 | Filed Under Uncategorized | Leave a Comment 



mom’s widow’s peak

October 19, 2010 | Filed Under Uncategorized | 1 Comment 

Well, I’m 29 years old and Sela is my second child and the second grandchild to my dad.  She and I are similar in so many ways it’s scary and all I can think of is “boy, am I in for it” when I think about myself growing up.  Not only that but the physical characteristics are very strong. I can see her strong will already and how she already knows what she wants when she wants it.  I’m hoping she avoids my stubborn characteristic but I don’t think I will be so lucky as we are both ‘Taureans’ and it comes with the territory.  She especially acts like me when she’s hungry….cranky as heck until she gets fed!  But she’s also very loving and cuddly, the best quality we both share.



her clothes

October 18, 2010 | Filed Under Uncategorized | Leave a Comment 

My mother and I come from a family of clotheshorses, My grandmother, my dad, his brothers, my mom, her sisters, and I all love clothes. When I was a kid, if my dad couldn’t find us he’d hit the Del Amo Fashion Center because that’s where we’d be. My mom would take me there are on her evenings off from the pizzeria they operated every night of the week. It was mom and pop immigrant style. She believed in “work hard, play hard”, and her version of play was clothes shopping!

It’s true that lots of women like to shop, but my mom was an extreme case. She had a special collection. When she passed away last year, she left me her house and everything in it, most of it a 3-car garage full of clothes. I’m actually documenting the process of getting rid of our things via the Infinite Garage Project (www.infinitegarage.com), a blog I started earlier this year.  Now that I’m sifting through her photographs and things, I realize that not only did she buy items in every size and color (20 silk T-shirt, 25+ houndstooth blazers!), but she really did keep everything from our past. We may have been different personality wise– she was reserved and serious while I’m more goofy– but we both understood that clothes could turned you into anyone you wanted to be.

I believe my mother hoarded clothes because she was insecure about the future, who she was going to be with, if she’d have enough money, and my future. Her things provided her with a sense of security if only material. In the end clothes are not worth anything, I know this. I’m not much of a hoarder and I want to get rid of most of our things. Part of the time I’m annoyed that I have to dispose of her things. But I’m being careful about trimming my mother’s special collection because I understand now that it was her life’s work.



smile lines

October 15, 2010 | Filed Under Uncategorized | Leave a Comment 

We’re both independent, imaginative, stubborn and will stand up to the boys. She’s far more interested in fashion and girlie things than I ever was or will be. We like to call her Princess Fierce cause she has that feminine edge but her momma’s spunk. I hope she doesn’t inherit my insecurity. I give far too much power to the few critical voices in my life than the many positive ones. Seeing her zest for life and confidence in herself spurs me to be more like her and work hard to keep her faith in her own way. People that have known me since I was a child say she’s just like me, a clone. They wonder if my husband’s DNA even made it inside the egg. One marked difference she has is her blue eyes; her father, two brothers and I all have brown. Making her uniquely herself, not my clone after all.



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