this is the gayest fuckin blog i have ever seen

Hey Gray Face! You’re hi-larious because that’s exactly what your dad says every time we see him at the gay bath house! How are things in Nebraska this fine morning?

Forgot to mention: my mother-in-law (a.k.a. grandma Melissa) plays a badass—and possibly corrupt—U.S. Senator in a short film called The Fixer, which is starting to make the rounds at film festivals. She’s really good in it. Here’s the trailer.

I must be out of practice, but I took crappy, unusable photos of the boy’s lunch this morning (which, BTW, was rice with pork gyoza and ramen noodles, at his request), so here’s a photo of the boy with his cousins from Montana: Yasmine, Tala and Zane. It’s been a long time since the boy has seen his Montana cousins, and he was thrilled to spend some time with them. Last night as he was falling asleep, the boy said, “I’m never going to be like Zane when I grow up.” I asked, Why do you say that? The boy said, “Just because.” I said, I don’t know what you mean. After a long pause, the boy said, “Because Zane is a good boy and I’m not.” And I said, What are you talking about? The boy said, “Nothing.” And I said, Seriously, why would you say that? And the boy said, “Zane is a good boy and I’m not.” And I said, You’re the best boy in the world. And the boy said, “That’s not what people said.” And then he went to sleep. So then as I was falling asleep, I was thinking, WTF stupid things are people (whoever these people are) saying to my kid that he thinks he’s not a good boy? Pisses me off. BTW, Zane and his sisters are terrificly nice, well-mannered kids. And I can’t begin to imagine who would be telling my kid that he’s not a good boy.

I must be out of practice, but I took crappy, unusable photos of the boy’s lunch this morning (which, BTW, was rice with pork gyoza and ramen noodles, at his request), so here’s a photo of the boy with his cousins from Montana: Yasmine, Tala and Zane.

It’s been a long time since the boy has seen his Montana cousins, and he was thrilled to spend some time with them. Last night as he was falling asleep, the boy said, “I’m never going to be like Zane when I grow up.” I asked, Why do you say that? The boy said, “Just because.” I said, I don’t know what you mean. After a long pause, the boy said, “Because Zane is a good boy and I’m not.” And I said, What are you talking about? The boy said, “Nothing.” And I said, Seriously, why would you say that? And the boy said, “Zane is a good boy and I’m not.” And I said, You’re the best boy in the world. And the boy said, “That’s not what people said.” And then he went to sleep.

So then as I was falling asleep, I was thinking, WTF stupid things are people (whoever these people are) saying to my kid that he thinks he’s not a good boy? Pisses me off.

BTW, Zane and his sisters are terrificly nice, well-mannered kids. And I can’t begin to imagine who would be telling my kid that he’s not a good boy.

Thus concludes the Busy-Lazy family 2011 Thanksgiving Adventure in Nebraska. Despite kind of a shitty start, which included a dominatrix flight attendant who stood over busy daddy and watched while he powered down his iPhone, our flight was uneventful. And thanks to a nice tailwind, we landed slightly ahead of schedule. A few things to note about our trip and its aftermath: As always, the boy was a mess when we said goodbye to everyone. As we took off, he started crying again because he didn’t want to leave his cousins. He really loves his family and wanted to stay with them longer, but we need to get back to our regular lives. One thing the boy said to me a few times on the plane sticks in my craw. He said, “I’m going to miss my cousins, but I know they won’t miss me.” I actually have an entire rant about this for later. I’ve become pretty adept at business travel, but traveling with a kid is something else entirely. As usual, we brought way too much stuff. For future reference, we each just need to pack: three t-shirts, one sweatshirt or sweater, one dress shirt, one pair of jeans, one pair of shorts, gym shoes, gym shorts, boxers, and socks. Everything else doesn’t see the light of day or we end up buying stuff as needed. Was it really necessary to bring three sweaters, scarves, gloves, and a down coat? The answer is no. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I brought my DSLR and two lenses on this trip. Maybe I had some weird fantasy that I was actually going to take pictures, but I ended up using my iPhone most of the time. I should have gone with my gut and just taken my trusty (and highly portable) GF1 instead, which does everything my DSLR does and weighs two-thirds less. Inter-family dynamics—no matter how great and loving a family is—can often feel like psychological warfare. Thank God I was smoking reefer the entire time, otherwise I would have probably lost my mind. I’m kidding about the reefer! I don’t smoke reefer (anymore), and besides, even if I did, I suspect it would have had the opposite effect on me, and instead of getting the munchies, I’d end up fasting, which would have ruined my girlish figure and then Jake Ryan would never ask me to prom!  Just Say No to Drugs!

Thus concludes the Busy-Lazy family 2011 Thanksgiving Adventure in Nebraska. Despite kind of a shitty start, which included a dominatrix flight attendant who stood over busy daddy and watched while he powered down his iPhone, our flight was uneventful. And thanks to a nice tailwind, we landed slightly ahead of schedule. A few things to note about our trip and its aftermath:

  • As always, the boy was a mess when we said goodbye to everyone. As we took off, he started crying again because he didn’t want to leave his cousins. He really loves his family and wanted to stay with them longer, but we need to get back to our regular lives.
  • One thing the boy said to me a few times on the plane sticks in my craw. He said, “I’m going to miss my cousins, but I know they won’t miss me.” I actually have an entire rant about this for later.
  • I’ve become pretty adept at business travel, but traveling with a kid is something else entirely. As usual, we brought way too much stuff. For future reference, we each just need to pack: three t-shirts, one sweatshirt or sweater, one dress shirt, one pair of jeans, one pair of shorts, gym shoes, gym shorts, boxers, and socks. Everything else doesn’t see the light of day or we end up buying stuff as needed. Was it really necessary to bring three sweaters, scarves, gloves, and a down coat? The answer is no.
  • I don’t know what I was thinking, but I brought my DSLR and two lenses on this trip. Maybe I had some weird fantasy that I was actually going to take pictures, but I ended up using my iPhone most of the time. I should have gone with my gut and just taken my trusty (and highly portable) GF1 instead, which does everything my DSLR does and weighs two-thirds less.
  • Inter-family dynamics—no matter how great and loving a family is—can often feel like psychological warfare. Thank God I was smoking reefer the entire time, otherwise I would have probably lost my mind.
  • I’m kidding about the reefer! I don’t smoke reefer (anymore), and besides, even if I did, I suspect it would have had the opposite effect on me, and instead of getting the munchies, I’d end up fasting, which would have ruined my girlish figure and then Jake Ryan would never ask me to prom! 
  • Just Say No to Drugs!
Dear Nebraska, I don’t know if anyone told you, but if I was a superhero, I would either be Parallel Parking Man because despite being a Chinkie, I’m actually very good at parallel parking or GPS Man because despite being a Chinkie, I can find my way around any city or town by going there once and looking around. But after nearly 20 years of coming to visit the Busy family homestead in Omaha and its surrounding countryside, I still have no idea where I am half the time. All of your streets look the same, whether it’s in the city or in the country. Nebraska, you are my Kryptonite. I give up.

Dear Nebraska, I don’t know if anyone told you, but if I was a superhero, I would either be Parallel Parking Man because despite being a Chinkie, I’m actually very good at parallel parking or GPS Man because despite being a Chinkie, I can find my way around any city or town by going there once and looking around. But after nearly 20 years of coming to visit the Busy family homestead in Omaha and its surrounding countryside, I still have no idea where I am half the time. All of your streets look the same, whether it’s in the city or in the country. Nebraska, you are my Kryptonite. I give up.