Full Confessional Friday! 8/15/2014

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister. 


Full Confessional Friday! 8/1/2014

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister. 



Mrs. G. enjoyed the post where all of you commented where you were from. Thank you for that. It made Mrs. G, who occasionally feels alone and flummoxed behind the screen of her laptop, remember this is a thriving community of the world.

So today, she would love it if you would fill her in on what's happening in your life. What's something you are enjoying, looking forward to, struggling to master -- how's your summer? How's tricks? Other Derfs are as interested to read your responses as Mrs. G. is.

So here's Mrs. G's update...she is enjoying finally whipping her yard into shape and hoping to replace her rotting back deck in the fall. She is really (no joke) struggling through college biology and algebra (pre-requisites to entering into her teaching program). It's been a while since she was a student and she's finding the amount of information she's expected to retain overwhelming, but she is determined to muddle through until she UNDERSTANDS it. She cut her hair short after an unfortunate night she "trimmed" her hair herself and she really likes the new cut. She and Mr. G. are rolling along (he's thick in his summer umpire duties) and they are both enjoying having their son around for a few more weeks. She hasn't dealt with a depression in months and she'd like to think, realistic or not, that she may enjoy many more months of what she imagines normal people feel like. Her extended family is heading to Seaside, Oregon in August for a family reunion/memorial service for Mr. G's mother, who passed away last month. The family is going to celebrate her life and scatter her ashes in her favorite place on earth. Seaside was the location of many precious family memories. So, there you go.

One more thing. The Derf San Diego gathering Friday, September 12th and Saturday, September 13th can only happen if 40 people commit. Mrs. G. is trying to find a moderately priced hotel that can serve us, but she has to put down a deposit. A gracious Derf has tentatively offered to host us one evening at her beach front home. So, in order to attend, you must submit a $100 deposit (folks tend not to back out when they've made a financial commitment) which will go towards food and drink by Friday of next week. So, if you plan to attend, please leave a comment and Mrs. G. will contact you. She hopes this works out, but if not, there's always next year. If we really intend to be a genuine community (not just online, which is so satisfying, don't get her wrong), human contact should be enjoyed. We don't want to show up at the Colony and not know anyone. Oh, the Colony, it has been on Mrs. G's mind so much these days. Mrs. G. has longed to live in a commune setting since she was ten-years-old. This dream will come true in one fashion or another. Even if six of us settle down in an old rambler with acreage. So let Mrs. G. know if you are definitely coming (sorry, maybes don't count at this point).

Let's pretend we are sitting around Mrs. G's living room drinking margaritas and getting the low down. Mrs. G. looks forward to reading all your responses. When Mrs. G. was on her trip, several people commented that they were surprised that Mrs. G. knew so much about them. The point being Mrs. G. reads every comment on this blog, she has been reading them for seven years. She thinks about you at stop lights, she thinks about your struggles and your children and grandchildren. She sees you. 

Need a reminder?

Happynewyear from Heather Copeland Gattuccio on Vimeo.


So let's get this open post going!


Full Confessional Friday! 7/25/2014

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.


the friend with the GREAT sense of know, the funny one

Mrs. G. has always been skeptical of popularity, a bit cagey of it's often shallow, slippery nature. It makes her skittish. Maybe it's because she spent her youth on its periphery. While popularity was her desired bright lights and big city destination, Mrs. G. resided squarely in the suburb of close but no cigar. She wasn't unpopular; she was just there...amiable, no trouble, perfectly fine. She was always invited to the party, but she didn't, you know, own it. She stood in the corner with her friend Karen nursing a Bartles and James wine cooler and smoking a clove cigarette. She was worldly though she lived in teeny Tigard, Oregon.


When she went to high school, Mrs. G. had a decent time. She had plenty of friends—she ran cross country and was on the speech team. She was a brain, but she was also good-natured and approachable. It's true Mrs. G. had sensational hair, but she was short and stocky and wore fairly thick glasses. She tried contacts but she accidentally swallowed them in a movie theater and her mom wouldn't buy her another pair because money doesn't grow on trees you know, or fall from the sky ferchristssake.  Mrs. G.  wasn't deferential. She was cute enough but not in hot hot if you know what she is saying... and you do. She was luke warm, fair to middling. It didn't take her long to figure out that she needed to be funny. She needed to be charming and share her impeccable biology notes, so that the hot hot people would occasionally invite her out with them...for entertainment purposes. She could make them laugh while they sat around drinking Big Gulps and looking beautiful. She was the nonthreatening friend.


One of the advantages of being a girl with the good personality in high school is that Mrs. G. had no trouble getting dates. She was a guaranteed good time—gracious and grateful, drama free. If there was a dance, Mrs. G. was there with one of her many guy friends. Dancing. Laughing. Her dates were engaging, perfect gentlemen. They gave her frothy pink wrist corsages and helped her fluff up her hair when the humidity of the dance floor made it droop. Her dates were unusually supportive of her commitment to save herself for marriage and often went shopping with her to pick out the perfect dress and matching heels. They were kind and respectful and, Mrs. G. found out a few years later to her genuine, twenty-four carat surprise, gay. Gay gay. She's not sure who was deeper in the closet, likely her since she was genuinely clueless. Mrs. G. slowly came to realize that she might have been the most popular date of the gays in her high school. And to make matters a little more nonsensical, she didn't find out her homecoming and prom dates were gay until she ran into them after college and asked after their girlfriends. Columbo she's not. Mrs. G. often wonders if they took numbers—sorry pal, you had her for the Spring Fling...she's mine for Tolo. And while it's true that she didn't brush up against love until later in college, she also didn't come home disappointed or pregnant. Or with chlymidia. 



Mrs. G. never really felt bad that she wasn't hot hot. She is a genuine believer in the American Dream and making the most of what you've got—she didn't sit around whining or wishing for longer legs or cheekbones...until she got a flat tire in Northeast Portland in 1986. She pulled her car over to the side of the road and hoofed it to a phone booth to call her friend Beth. Beth said she was on her way, so Mrs. G. hoofed it back, leaned against the hood of her car and watched the rush hour traffic go by—car after car after car. Beth showed up a short while later. She had barely pulled her six footed, blue eyed, creamy skinned, down-to-the-waist blonde haired body out of her car and walked six steps toward Mrs. G. before a guy in a red Jeep pulled over and jumped out to offer his assistance.

Mrs. G, who had been standing on the side of the road for over thirty minutes, watched this scene unfold in slow motion and realized that there was only one thing she could do:

be funnier.


You're Invited

OK, Derfs, it's now or never! Planning a Derf Weekend in San Diego (Mission Bay) Friday, September 12th and Saturday, September 13th. Are you game? You should be...meeting new (and old) friends, dancing, drinking, fraternizing on the beach, and no shortage of shenanigans! Leave a comment if you're interested. Mrs. G. hopes to meet you there! Bras optional.


just a little update

Mrs. G. just returned home from Los Angeles. She spent several days there helping Miss G. move into her first apartment without a roommate. There are so many advantages to living alone, but Mrs. G. thinks we can all agree that pants and bra optional are right at the top of the list of sensational and the old razzle-dazzle.

Mrs. G's apartment is sweet and girly. Pink quilt, lavendar sheets, twinkling lights and artwork done by the children she works with.


Mrs. G. wants to take a moment and (once again) brag about Miss G. She interviewed for a new job at 7:00pm on a Thursday night and was offered the job by 4:00pm the next day. It is such a gift to have such profound respect for your daughter and her choices. Quite simply, Mrs. G. admires her daughter greatly. She is a good egg.

Also, Miss G. is wild about sloths. Wild. She always has been.

The only bad news to report is that Miss G. called Mrs. G. tonight and said she saw a small roach in her pristine cabinet. Miss G. is terrified of roaches so Mrs. G. gave her the only advice she could think of: Move! Of course she was just joking, so she went on Amazon and told Miss G. which roach bait to buy. She also suggested breathing in a paper bag so Miss G. wouldn't pass out. The fear. It is real.

Another great thing that happened in L.A., Mrs. G. had lunch with Heidi of Smalltown Me. They had a wonderful visit and once again confirmed the joy of meeting derfs in person.

Let's not talk about Mrs. G's hair because during a dark night of the soul, she cut it herself. It's just hair, right? 

Two weeks ago, Mrs. G. started a teaching program that will certify her to teach science to 5th through 9th graders. Science? Right brained Mrs G.? Yep. There is a shortage of science teachers here in Washington and Mrs. G. is excited to challenge herself. She feels certain she's a good enough teacher to make any subject interesting. Pardon her ego, but this is her talent. To take what's eh and make it aaaah! The program will take a year and a half, plus six months of student teaching.

She plans to keep on blogging though things will occasionally be light around here as she digs into cellular chemistry and calculus. Don't worry, she will do her best to not leave you hanging.

One thing she would like to reiterate is that it's never too late to start over. Even if you're scared and, yes, Mrs. G. is scared. In many respects she is starting her professional life over again...from square one. But this path, Derfs, it feels right.

More later.

And just because...


In conclusion, a cellular chemisty haiku...

pH scale is used

indicates the acidity

or the basicity









Full Confessional Friday! 7/11/2014

Mrs. G. is heading to Los Angeles tonight to help her daughter move. She's not taking her laptop so she will see you in a couple of weeks. Happy July, Derfs! 

Be it Venial or Mortal (there's no escaping Original), we've all got secrets -- light, dark, funny, sad -- worth bringing to light. The act of confession can be liberating, mollifying and entertaining. Contrition? Repentance? A shot of Tequila? That's your call, sister.