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I’m writing this from a Virgin America flight from LAX to EWR – home for the holidays. John Legend is sitting 15 rows in front of me, which has nothing to do with this post but felt worth mentioning. Also I’m not a fan of the new safety video – unpopular an opinion as that may be. I miss the bull who’s totally over it about the seat belts.
And as I fly – artisan cheese plate on tray – I can’t help but think about how totally weird it is to go home to your old home for the holidays, especially when you’ve started to bring your new home along. I think that in a small and very strange way, I feel like a traitor.
This trip marks my fourth time traveling home from Christmas since I moved to Los Angeles and my fourth time bringing R along for the trip. He was almost instantly a part of the family – which may be on account of his winning personality, but more likely has to do with our being snowed in at my parent’s house for four days the very first time he visited (and not, like, snowed in but you can get the car out in case you need a carton of milk or five minutes away from the your new girlfriend’s entire family), and he’s now betrothed to be an actual part of my family in five month’s time.
But even though I have 26 more Christmas’s with my clan than R can boast, we’re both now guests, not residents (a logistical not emotional fact, but still). We have our own home with our own Christmas tree that we decorated just so (light on the lights and ornaments, heavy on the gold garland). We have our own way of exchanging Christmas gifts (all dressed up before our annual dinner at Jar) – hell, we have our own way of doing everything. Much of it is based on the things we learned in our respective homes growing up, but some of it is not. We are now our own family, almost legally speaking. So when I’m home I can’t help but feel like the band member who left coming back for a brief reunion tour with the new band mate she found after jumping ship. That may be because we sing a lot of Christmas carols when we’re home, and because R’s number one fantasy in life is being a drummer, but the metaphor still works on both levels.
So am I a member of the home team or the away team? And how does that work given the away team is actually my current home? Is it more like #TeamUs and #TeamThem? And if so, who is the “us” and who is the “them”? Like, if my entire family broke out into some massive turf war – or the more likely Christmas cookie-based food fight – who would I pelt with a pecan sandy and who would I protect?
When you’re young – before the boyfriends, fiancés, husbands and children of your own come into the mix – you have personal interests and family interests, and as my years spent Black Friday shopping at 6AM despite despising Black Friday shopping and 6AM prove that can be complicated enough. But how do you juggle personal, root family and new family interests? Interests makes it sound unnecessarily dramatic when the reality is more like how you prefer your salmon seared but eventually searing salmon becomes raising children (or dogs…we’ll see…), so best to start the over-thinking it early.
My tactic so far is to hope to god they align (which they luckily do almost 95% of the time. The other 5% is comprised of weird indie movies only R, my dad and me want to watch) and trust my gut (which says do what’s reasonable and makes the most people the happiest – optionally including yourself). But then again my tactics are all based on the flexibility of my new band member – the guy who dove in Christmas trip #1 (aka Snowed In-Gate) by wearing my Dad’s mustard yellow sweatpants because he only packed enough clothes for the one anticipated day – and my old band mates – the people who still refer to that as the greatest Christmas ever. Also, my parent’s stock four different kinds of milk in the house for every single person’s dairy and non-dairy desire.
Happy Happy Holidays from my homes to your homes – however and whomever makes them whole.
Jessie Rosen
Jessie Rosen resides physically in LA and mentally in NY. She writes scripts, books, articles, sex stories, branded content and killer e-mails.
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Nathan Zakheim- criminal, cultist, violent extremist, supporter of child molestation
A man by the calling of Nathan Zakheim, who resides in Los Angeles, California, and works as an art collector, has a very sordid dark history involved in numerous cult activities. He has also engaged in crime in this regard, as well as violence and extremism.
He also openly supports a group of child molesting criminals called The Hare Krishna Cult.
He apparently runs his art collection/restoration business with his wife and two children.
Business Address:
P.O. Box 11929
960 N La Brea Avenue
Marina Del Rey, California 90295
His email: zakheim@earthlink.net
His Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/naara.vishwakarma
His LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/nathan-zakheim/26/965/235
His wife Rupa Manjari Zakheim’s email: roupamanjaridevidasi@gmail.com
Her Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RoupaManjaridevidasi
Her LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/rupa-manjari-devi-dasi/26/964/57a
Her Freelancer profile: http://www.freelancer.com.jm/u/RupaZakheim.html
His son Kuva Zakheim’s Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kuva108
His daughter Shakuntala’s Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shakuntala.zakheim.7
This message is a warning to all present or future business associates/partners of Nathan Zakheim. I want you to be aware of his sordid past history and what a sick and dangerous individual this man is.
Interesting post. I find it interestingly disturbing that 4 types of milks are kept in one home. 😉
i really enjoyed and can identify with this one. happy holidays.
AT