Leigh Kramer

Ally McBeal, River, and the Nostalgia of Friendship

The song River brings to mind Robert Downey Jr. and my college friends. Every Monday night we'd gather to watch our favorite shows. Conveniently, junior year we met up in the house where I and 3 others of our gang lived.

Robert Downey Jr. joined the cast of Ally McBeal during season 4. It was a risky decision at the time, as he was fresh from a stint in rehab- or was it jail? We were enthralled by the character he played. It didn't take long for a romantic storyline to begin between him and Ally. Every once in awhile, if we were lucky, he'd break into song. Much swooning occurred in Rock Island, IL those days.

Such was the case of the Christmas episode that year.

 

Any other Ally McBeal fans out there? I'm sharing about how the show helped form some of my most important friendships and what the song River means to me over at A Deeper Family. Head on over to read the rest.

Surprise Parties 101

I like to think of my surprise party planning skills as one of my love languages. Over the years, I've amassed quite a few tips and tricks. I'll go head to head with anyone else who claims to have bragworthy surprise party planning skills. 

Back in 2005, my two roommates and I were only a few months into apartment living. Our 3 bedroom loft apartment was the perfect setting for any gathering. Jen and Donna happened to have birthdays were within a week of each other.

I decided a double surprise was in order.

 

My talented friend Kelly at Love Well has been running an amazing series on birthday parties and asked me to give pointers on how to throw a successful surprise party. Twist my arm! Head on over to read the rest. And if you've thrown or received an awesome surprise party, I'd love to hear about it.

A Cousin Walks in to a Coffee Shop

It doesn't seem remarkable on the surface but my cousin and I went out for coffee while I was in town a couple of weekends ago. No big deal, right? People meet for coffee all the time.

Except we'd never done that before.

A few days before I returned to my hometown for our annual family reunion, I received a voicemail from Adam stating he had good news and bad news. When I called him back, he said he wouldn't be at the reunion because he'd planned a bike trip with 20 friends and it was that same Sunday. After I made fun of him for not remembering that the reunion falls on the same weekend every year, I told him I'd miss him and I'd see him at Christmas.

He didn't like the thought of going that long without seeing each other. But what other option did we have?

 

Over at A Deeper Family today, sharing about one of my favorite cousins. Head on over to read the rest.

Legend of the Gate 5 Gang

Brooke and I started it all with our decision to get the Ozzie Plan. We'd always meet up at Gate 5. Since she lived and worked in the city, she was always waiting for me to stroll in from the Green Line. We'd dig out tickets from purses and get in the much shorter Gate 5 lines. This particular gate seemed like the best kept secret of Comiskey, even though it was adjacent to parking lots and closest to the Red and Green Lines.

It was the clear meeting place for any game thereafter, whether I went with Brooke or a handful of other Sox fan friends.

I don't remember who officially declared us to be the Gate Five Gang but it stuck. Brooke, Mark, Jill, Todd, and me. We were super fans. Nay, we were the Best White Sox Fans Ever.

We even made t-shirts to prove it.

We've gone to many a game in varying combinations but the whole gang has probably only attended one or two games together.  Which makes it all the more funny to call ourselves a gang.

Whatevs. We make up our own rules on the Southside.

(They no longer blog but it's worth reading Mark and Todd's different takes on a game we all went to in 2006, featuring the return of Frank Thomas, a rogue squirrel, and an unexpected win.)

Brooke, Jill, and Todd have all since married and started their families. It's a little more complicated for us to all be free to attend a game. Especially since I moved out of state. But I dream of a day when we'll all reunite at The Cell and cheer on our team.

With the presence of our collective fandom, the White Sox can't help but win.

The Gate 5 Gang has been on my mind with the start of another season.

Spring Training imbues baseball fans with hope. We are all optimists at the start. We look at the team and the trades, the strengths and the weaknesses. We look at player performance and figure out gaps but it's all hypothesis at this point. No matter what, we think, "this could be the year."

So it is with the White Sox. Paul Konerko is the only vestige from the 2005 World Champion team. I need to spend time familiarizing myself with the new names on the roster. I may not be able to watch many games from here in Nashville but there's nothing like baseball season.

Baseball brings people together. We are united in our victories and losses. We prepare for the worst but hope for the best. We keep coming back year after year after year.

Because this could be The Year, after all.

This is what I love about baseball and life. The sense of possibility. This could be my team's year. It could also be my year. My year of possibility.

I need to do my part. I often know what I need to do. It's my turn to step up to the plate. The rest might be out of my control but I'll never know if I hang back and procrastinate or distract myself with other stuff.

The Gate 5 Gang teases me about my relentless optimism when it comes to the White Sox. I have an unfailing belief in my team. And yet I so often struggle to apply this sunny disposition to my own prospects.

No longer.

This is my year. This is my chance. I'm taking the first step. I'm taking another leap of faith.

No matter the outcome, it will all work for good.

Why wouldn't it?

Are you excited about baseball season? Are you as optimistic about your prospects as you are for others?

The California Cousins

Grandma and her beauteous granddaughters

 

I wanted to be like them when I grew up. I viewed Clara and Emily through awe-colored glasses, ever amazed by their wit, beauty, intelligence. They were only a few years older than me and they were my cousins. Mine.

 

Their parents divorced the year I was born. The girls consequently grew up on the East Coast, interspersed with time with their dad in Wisconsin. I saw Clara and Emily at Christmas and the other occasional holiday, some regular summer visits, too. We treasured being all together, this mass of Petits descending on my grandparents' house ready to eat and play and talk for hours.

 

I don't know how much I talked at family gatherings in my younger years. I wanted to soak everyone up and I also wasn't sure what I had to contribute. I was plain old me and everyone else was fascinating. There was no competition, no one making me feel “less than,” but I couldn't compete, especially with my dazzling cousins. Nor did I want to. I paid close attention to Clara and Emily's jokes and music recommendations and anything else they wanted to share. Maybe in hopes their awesomeness would rub off on me but also because time together was precious. I might not see them again for another six months or a year.

 

When my uncle remarried, the girls and a couple of their friends choreographed a dance at the reception. They stood on the steps outside the house and I don't remember the song that played but I can still picture them swaying and smiling on that humid day.

 

We're the only girl cousins and so for the many holidays and birthday parties Clara and Emily couldn't attend, it was me and the boys. Somewhere along the way, we grew up. Their visits became less frequent once they reached high school. I don't remember the last time they celebrated Christmas with us. Even so, I looked up to them. I still do.

 

They've been back to visit a handful of times this past decade. A family reunion, a quick weekend to say goodbye to our grandmother and then a week later for her funeral. They live in San Francisco and it's not cheap to fly back to the Midwest. They've missed out on the garden variety gatherings. Adam's wedding and my brother's, too. They couldn't come back for our cousin's funeral or Aunt Sue's, nor the funerals for so many great-aunts and great-uncles.

 

While home for Thanksgiving, Uncle Bud told me Clara, her boyfriend, and their baby boy were coming to visit the week after Christmas. We hadn't seen each other since Grandma's funeral 5 years ago. There was no way I'd miss out on the chance to see them; their visit would be my last hurrah before returning home to Nashville. Even better: Emily joined in on the fun, freshly back from Europe.

The first Saturday in January, the whole family (minus my brother and sister-in-law) convened at Grandpa's house. We ate and talked and laughed for hours. I snuggled almost 1 year old Henry any chance I could get. I talked with Clara's boyfriend about books and writing and, oddly enough, Scientology. (Look, I am strangely fascinated by Scientologists and I wanted a Californian perspective.) I looked around the room, overwhelmed by the love it contained.

And I caught up with my California cousins.

I'll always be a bit in awe of them. How could I not be? They are amazing women. But now I see our similarities. I see how I have just as much to offer and the way they look forward to seeing me as much as I look forward to seeing them.

We've all ended up forging our own path. What are the odds?

Clara co-owns her business The Wedding Party. She started out as an employee and then she and her partner bought it out. And they've made it work! I secretly dream of some day flying out to the store to pick out my dress or the bridesmaid dresses. She's an amazing mother. I loved seeing the way she and Wallie take care of their son.

Then there's Emily. She started working with a rock band. Did she know anything about the music industry beforehand? No, but she's figured out each step along the way. The band has wound up on some amazing tours and they've made friends in high places. I could listen to her stories all day.

Clara, I still want your cardigan. Don't forget.

As we sat across from each other, trading stories about work and our dreams, I marveled at who we are. There's no telling what all we'll accomplish.

Clara and Emily are two of my biggest fans. I never could have imagined this when I was little. I had no idea what I was capable of offering the world.

The day flew by far too fast. There's never enough time to talk, to be. One of these days I'll make it out to San Francisco for a visit. We'll look forward to the next gathering, whenever it may be.