Andrea and her boyfriend:

Last night I was feeling really sorry for myself.  Andrea was at Ryan’s house for their family dinner and they invited me to join them at their church for a Christmas Eve service later (my church didn’t have one) but I didn’t know if I was going or not.  At the very last minute I got ready and went and it was a gorgeous candlelit ceremony but I still felt sad… and lonely… and like maybe God doesn’t care about me anymore.  (I know he does, I just can’t help these thoughts).

After church Andrea went with Ryan’s family back to their house.

I went home.

But a little while later Andrea called and said they decided to bring their presents to each other over here and open them up at our house.  What a difference that made!  Ryan even brought ME a present!

I love them.

Nothing stops me from getting to Michele.  Remember last year?  The California wildfires?  Oh, every year the Santa Ana’s fan the flames, but last year’s brought the largest evacuation in American history (and a state of emergency declared in 7 counties by the Governator).  The day before I was to fly out, Michele sent me this map showing how the fire was blocking their house from the airport.  The pass was closed.  (The fire was also blocking her husband from getting home from work.  He ended up having to spend the night in his car)!

But the pass DID open up in time for Mike to get home, get Michele, and come back to pick me up.  This was my view just before landing:

(and my post about our visit).

Well.  THIS year Michele’s mountains (and town) (in the desert) got the most snow they’ve had in 50 years.  Vegas Airport (my layover airport) was closed the day before I was to leave due to the weather.  SNOW in VEGAS!

And that damn pass between Michele and my final airport was closed right before my arrival AGAIN!

Pictures emailed from Michele… Her car stuck in front of her house:

Ice on her roses:

She emailed me “What have you done, Kristine?  Last year it was wildfires from the depths of hell and this year hell hath frozen over.”

OMG, I’m like Snow Miser and Heat Miser combined!  And I have some mystical connection with that pass…

But, as with all good stories, this one has a happy ending.  (And not like the kind you’d get at one of the Thai massage parlors I saw every 5 feet in Hollywood, but the really good kind).

More later!  Merry Christmas!

There’s not much I won’t do for a good hug right now.  So for an extra-extra special and comforting one?  I’m flying to Los Angeles where my very own angel in the “City of” is picking me up at the airport to spend a few days in Hollywood for the hell of it!

I’m really, really happy and excited about seeing Michele again and no worries… I’m not going there to jump off the sign.

I do, however, want to drive by Joan Crawford’s old place yelling “No Wire Hangers!” a few times.

So I went to this divorce support group that I have to tell you about.  On the way down I called my friend Brenda.  We joked and she warned me that the men would be lounge lizard-types seeking vulnerable prey.  That made me more excited because I could use a good laugh, but she was wrong - everyone was nice - although all of us depressingly unattractive in grief’s harsh lighting.

Here’s the thing.  When I showed up I was so together.  My demeanor was all “yes, I am getting divorced but - as you can see - I’m taking care of myself and seeking out resources and support systems and making sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”  Picture me with a big friendly smile.  And it was sincere.  I’m just happy to be here!

One by one they introduced themselves to me as I was the only new person.  First guy Dan (he was the leader) was real nice, an older man.  Next couple guys and then a woman… and then a huge construction guy that bizarrely appeared small.  His round eyes looked into mine as he told me his name, that he’d been separated 5 months, and (this part he said apologetically) that today was his anniversary.

Remember Gloria from All in the Family?  Remember how she’d all the sudden burst out into a wide-mouthed wail when she started crying?  I did that when he said anniversary!!  Then I started doing that little kid-couldn’t catch my breath thing.  Oh my God it was horrible.  I giggle now when I think of Dan scolding the woman next to me “We should’ve had the tissue by her!”  haha.

Eventually we got through all introductions.

After some talking and reading Dan popped in a video in which Dr. Jim Talley proclaimed “Agony is spiritually invigorating.”  I tried not to laugh - truly.  But “spiritually invigorating?”  All I could think of was camping in the mountains, waking up one crisp morning to breathe in the fresh pine air and sigh “Ahhh.  AGONY!”

So then I was like the kid in church who can’t stop laughing and the more she tries, the harder she laughs.  I had to leave the room.

Oh yeah, and I never went back.

I got two comments in a row that I’m assuming refer to my recent airport post.  They were left on my old “about” page I wrote a couple years ago.  I was kinda taken aback:

Now all I can think is that someone else is going to comment:  Well, what about us poor people by the airport??

You gotta understand something about Andrea.  Family has always joked that she cannot be my kid.  While I veered during teenage years into mischief and naughtiness, she has been growing an overdeveloped sense of responsibility.

It’s been difficult to see her struggle with a desire to “mother” and guide ME as I experience the split from Rodney.

Last night when I was doing dishes, Andrea walked in with an armful of roses and in a playful voice sang: “Rodney can get you roses, but so can I… !”  I burst into tears and hugged her like crazy.  She pulled back and confessed “I feel like I’m going to ruin the moment here but I stole them from Santa Claus.”  Then she apologized for me thinking she bought them.

By then I was crying harder, because I was laughing.  “No, no, that makes it even better!  It’s like I finally know now you’re my daughter!”  We both just laughed.

Still I asked, “You didn’t take them all, right?”  She answered that he had buckets and buckets of them to give out.

“Yeah, when he got up and walked away on his crutches, I knew I had some time to grab a bunch.”

Oh.

Oh my.

I just love her!

Can you tell I live near the airport?