Tuesday, October 25, 2005 | by nathan

Calling In…Well…

Brian has an HD receiver, and as we don’t actually have cable hooked up in the house yet, I am sitting here watching PBSHD, which is absolutely the most fun thing ever. Have I mentioned that I effing love public broadcasting? At least we have internet in the house now so I can blog. Yes, folks, I decided not to go to work. This boy needs rest.

It got cold here, which thrills me beyond belief, as I love autumn. This summer was oppressively hot and tedious, as I was working seven days a week at Upward Bound and the OU Pool, so while everyone else was out having fun, and all the other writers were getting their work done, I was struggling to keep up with life and stay air-conditioned. It was miserable. Luckily I had Brian, Jesus, and the roof at the loft to get me through.

Now it’s fall, we have a house, and I feel much more relaxed, despite the fact that I am busier than ever. But the house is drafty, so we bundle up a lot, and Brian still cannot lay down very well, so his parents hauled a tacky recliner up from Chickasha and put it in our bedroom so at least we could be in the same room at night.

This weekend was absolutely amazing, however. Summer Oakes came in from St. Louis, where she is attending WashU. It was the second time I have seen her since this happened (click it for the story):

Friday was my last day as a temp at O-Trip - I am now a permanent part-time Admissions Clerk (yay?) - and so I took my leave at 1 PM for the last time. I drove to Edmond and picked up Summer at her brother’s house, which confirmed for me once again that Edmond is the worst, most horrible place in Oklahoma. She and I came back to the house, where I gave her “The Tour,” and when Brian got home we went grocery shopping. Bryon Chambers came over and we started getting ready for the cookout. Soon mom and Laurie and Jaye arrived and I was welling up with happiness. Here all of these people who love me so well are in one room together and it’s not Heaven? It was incredible.

Summer may get the C-Collar off on Nov. 1. Pray that this happens.

After awhile Donald and Christine, Summer’s brother and sister-in-law, showed up to hang out with us. A little while later the house exploded with activity; Gabe showed up with his boyfriend Kirk, Michael Bolin, and David Smith. Then Todd and Steve walked in, and then Auvrey. It was amazing, but as the host I did not have enough energy to give everyone the tour, or even really say hello for very long, and I felt as if I was ignoring Summer, but things were nuts. Bryon sensed this and took me for a walk down the street to the gazebo so that I could decompress a little, which was nice, but by the time we got back Summer and Auvrey and Donald and Christine had gone, because they were all tired. Bryon went out to meet Matthew and the gay boys had to run off to Jayson Rayburn’s birthday party.

So then it was me, Brian, Laurie, Jaye, Todd, and Steve, all sitting in the den, “pow-wowing.” Things get a little fuzzy at this point; remembering it is like remembering a scene from “Fight Club.” There were sips from the bottle of Sloe Gin, and then me on the porch with a bottle of Tanqueray, and then me passing out on the couch. Other than that…

All in all, a night of great love from beloved family, as I consider all of these people mine. Mary Chapin-Carpenter has this great line: “We’ve got two lives: one we’re given, and the other one we make.” I think that this line is also true for families. We are issued a family by God and genetics at birth, and then God, in all Her showoffy awesomeness, sends us the building blocks for a “do-it-yourself” family, a kit that we assemble through our lives to take care of us and for whom we take tender, loping, uneven care. Mine gathered in my house Friday night and I felt wonderful.

Saturday we watched two infomercials in a row. We started calling it “The Asshole Channel.” Because people in infomercials are assholes.

Saturday night we went to dinner at Sophabella’s with all of Summer’s Oklahoma friends and family who love her more than we know how to express. After, Auvrey, Tasha, Summer, Brian, and I went to Auvrey’s condo to watch episodes of MST3K, including one of my old favorites, Parts: The Clonus Horror, which includes these great lines (which, taken out of context are not that funny:

“I think you’re neat.” “I like how keen you are.”

“Only you can prevent groin fires.”

“When are you going to America?” “Later on.”

We also watched an inexplicable short whose name I don’t readily remember, but which involved a woman dancing around and singing incomprehensible, modernesque arias about how much she wants a Corvette and the “Kitchen of the Future.” There was laughter. It has been too long since we have all done that, and I was thrilled at how easily Brian fit in. Yet another reason to love him.

Sunday we just hung out with Summer for awhile, shuttling her around to Full Circle, the Apple Store, and CompUSA before dropping her off with Tasha and Ben. It made me sad to see her go, but anytime I get to see that girl it brings something wonderful to my life. I want everyone to pray that she gets that C-Collar off. Right now. Take a moment.

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Done? Okay.

Bryon called us when we were on the way home and said he was getting off work early. As he works next door to our house, at Farmer’s, we invited him over for dinner. The three of us went to the grocery store and bought stuff for me to make manicotti, which I did, and Bryon brought us a bottle of fantastic red wine.

Again - could it be better?

And now, after a two-day weekend (what? What?) I get back into the swing of things, slowly. Ana is gone this week so I am doing lab all by myself, which means they don’t even last an hour. I wonder if I suck, or if my “You already know this, let’s practice for a minute and then go” approach is good enough. Because they do know it.

Anyhow.

Everyone in my Creative Nonfiction class liked my third piece, which was about my first job, as a telemarketer. Have I mentioned that I love being a writer? All three of these pieces are headed to magazine editors, as per Dr. Kamau’s suggestion to me during our last meeting. I hope my mail slot is big enough for all the rejection letters, because none of my past mailboxes have been able to accomodate them all.

Fambly, Writer