I Missed the Feast of the 7 Fishes But It's Fine

Look at us, surviving the holidays so far!

Hi, friends. Auntie Sara is here to welcome you to the other side of Christmas. You did it! You may still be on family time, or you may be solo, or you may be one of the many, many people who does not celebrate Christmas but has to contend with an avalanche of American Christmastime madness each and every year. You’re alive!

Collectively, we have done it! We have done Christmas, or not, and now Christmas is done for the sacred Gregorian annum of 2023.

Unless you’re from an Orthodox church! Then Christmas is not done yet. Congrats and/or good luck to YOU, too. Also, please invite me to your gatherings because, as you will soon learn, your friend Auntie Sara was not at family Christmas this year.

Like Santa Claus, Mariah Carey and Matt Rogers, my mom is A Christmas Person (TM) in the same way that I am A Halloween Person (I’m an October Scorpio, it is our birthright and brand.) And she had a wonderful time with family and friends. It was uncharacteristically relaxing, as far as I can tell (was my absence part of why? WHOM CAN SAY? I do like to issue a family double dare challenge every now and again in the form of A Very True Remark That Maybe Did Not Need To Be Said.) But even she is relieved to take the decorations down.

I spent Christmas alone. I’m on what I hope is the tail end of two weeks of sickness. It commenced with me starting to identify some hearing loss in both ears, equally distributed, which was diagnosed as Eustachian tube dysfunction. That was weird and affected my mood and balance, but was not contagious and did get in the way of a move to my winter coastal spot on the shore of Lake Michigan. Whomst among us is not a reverse snowbird, summering in New York and wintering in Chicago with occasional jaunts to Los Angeles for work and play and oh my God please sunshine? NORMAL!

Anyhoo. On the plane or in the airport, I must’ve picked up something contagious, because my first ten days in Chicago were mostly me enjoying a wild chest cold that kept me up at night, plus the ear infection thing which had me feeling off-balance.

I decided it was best to stay here for Christmas, alone. And to change my SAG-AFTRA local to Chicago, so it is known I am available to play a piece of sentient food and/or an irate dining customer and/or alcoholic third cousin on The Bear, or AN ACTUAL FIRE or Woman Who Sees Fire on Chicago Fire.

I am manifesting this the way

Hunter Harris

is manifesting Amy Adams winning her Oscar for the Tree Paine biopic, and not a moment sooner. (Subscribe to

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I can be reached via Rothman Brecher Ehrich Livingston or Artists First. Note it in your old time Rolodex! I am offer-only to play a piece of food OR a fire, but all else IS negotiable! Please behold my imdb, which reflects that I played an exhausted criminal defense attorney named Timotea “Timmy” Gianpaolo on SVU last year, and Captain Mariska Hargitay OUTSMARTED ME, I assure you!!!!

If your very first experience of doing drama as opposed to jokey yuk yuks gets to be with veteran professional icons Mariska Hargitay and Peter Scanavino playing veteran professional icons who can tell your character doesn’t know what you’re doing, it helps. Authenticity! I didn’t even have one panic attack, and THAT FACT was a 2022 highlight, I assure you.

Also, production has a button you can press that makes this sound. It is near Ice-T’s office/dressing room. These are important facts.

Back to 2023.

Being not-with-my family for Christmas was mostly not a sad thing! Yes, my family was disappointed, but that’s a nice piece of evidence that they do not despise me and, in fact, often enjoy having me around. How lovely! And also, wow, it’s not bad to miss the stress of traveling and living with one’s family of origin for a few days.

Here are some photographs my zizi/godmother took of a fraction of the feast.

Special shout out to the good persons of THE BEAR - especially genius culinary producer Courtney Storer plus Chris Storer, Joanna Calo, and Sofya Levitsky-Weitz - for ensuring in one episode that we don’t have to explain what this holiday is to as many of our friends now (though it remains fun to explain.)

I actually think it can be healthier for some folks to visit home not at the holidays. There’s less pressure to do certain rituals at certain times, to hold up certain traditions. I would truly rather have some relaxed, valuable time with my aging parents on a casual Tuesday in May than to catch them all stressed out at Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Once a doctor man said I was allowed to go out into the world, I did so. I was so deliriously excited to go solo to an Italian restaurant and an Ethiopian restaurant and a vintage furniture shop and Walgreens. Fucking Walgreens! So many aisles of things all locked up for us to not steal. I had to ask a staff member to unlock the Neutrogena Hydro Gel Boost Water Serum Whatever Thing. I understand why people would steal it! It’s that good! Loss prevention matters for skincare too!

I thought everybody at the Walgreens was so beautiful and special. It was that level of “I’ve been mostly alone for days except with my cat and occasionally my partner who I cried to and made drop me off at Urgent Care.”

We went to hear an opera and Christmas carols singalong and I ate a lot of butter, because we are in the Middle West. Here is a photograph of me before or after (also I need a kitchen trashcan - is Simplehuman the best? Tell me.)

Also, what are we calling our boyfriends, girlfriends, they/them lipstick lovers, etc. now? I’m talking about middle-aged people. A UK friend said “over here, it’s more common to say ‘partner’ when you’re an adult” and I was like “okay but also you say ‘snog’ for ‘kiss’ and ‘fanny’ for ‘pussy’ and like do I do that now too?” I’m open to it! Somebody explain this to a short little pansexual Sicilian Irish Arab (but culturally Jersey Italian AF) woman!

Wait also, have I mentioned we found out my dad is descended from the Scottish Jewish community of Edinburgh? What do they call “boyfriends”? I WILL be asking when I do a one-woman show in Edinburgh called “When Goulds Become Golds: An American Tail” and yes it IS a remake of the Fievel story. Come on, James and Linda!

Linda’s bob!

I am currently growing out a curly shagmullet situation (see above) but I used to have a curly bob. This weekend I fondly recalled the day when, in Brooklyn, a child once looked at me and told me I strongly resembled Rachel Dolezal which was the funniest thing for two reasons:

a.) Correct.

b.) The story had dropped that day. THAT. DAY.

They were maybe in sixth grade. MAYBE. It was beautiful. Also, look at the corroborating evidence from the era.

Anyway, NYC schoolchildren are undefeated.

I used to teach kids, and the funniest ones are in NYC. That’s just the truth. I’ve seen them make fun of infants on the subway. Mocking innocent little babies on the 6 in front of their mothers is an art form and they have achieved excellence.

If I could go back in time, I would say to this Sara, “Is it time to maybe make other choices?”

Flip flops in late October were a choice.

I would’ve cinched the waist tighter and picked better shoes and a more supportive bra and lost the CVS leggings and done the hair up in a chignon, just to start, but she was doing what she could at the time. Also, should I embrace my roots (HA! WOW! A WRITER!) and go full brunette again? Please advise.

To review, this is what we’re currently working with. All hair opinions are welcome on color, cut, etc. Also, what’s a good salon in Chicago? I know they have many.

This has been long as fuck, but it’s been awhile since I wrote to you. I’ll be more servicey. For now, this is the update. I love you and I like you. Thanks for being you.

Love,

Sara

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