Okay, this clip of Kristen Bell having all the feels is entirely redeemed by Ellen being awesome. I know I was just bitching about Brian Moylan, but I can't lie, I judge right along with him. I just can't deal with that.

I've had 4 glasses of wine, whee! And Brian ONCE AGAIN fed us. Damnit. I was trying to be all surreptitious, and snuck over to the server...only to learn Brian beat me to it. I swear, it's a compulsion of his.

So I found out tonight I was a bit of an unwitting catalyst in my next door neighbor and his new wife's romance! See, they'd been casually corresponding for a couplethree years (she was in Central America, and when they first met as friends through her US housemate, his marriage was collapsing, and she didn't even consider him dateable.) Anyway, the correspondence and skype had gotten pretty regular, but they still hadn't really moved beyond that. And I moved in. Apparently, I made enough of an impression on B, that he told J aaaalllll about me over several phone calls (I ended up talking to him a lot both before moving in and once I did) and was all excited. And she realized that she was feeling jealous and territorial. And then she mentioned something that made him realize likewise. So they arranged to meet up and the rest is history. Heehee.

I started whooping with laughter when she started to tell me. But awesome! She's a great deal of fun, and I think I've convinced her to go to Bhutan.

Damn, I love where I live.

My grandfather changed his name on purpose at Ellis Island, thinking he needed something short and snappy to make himself a Real American. Following which (after working his way West in the cooking tents of various mining and logging camps), he moved to a Greek neighborhood, surrounded himself with Greek friends, married a Greek woman, and lived the next eighty years, perfectly content, in a snug little expat bubble.

And my grandmother was turned away from Ellis Island because the quota for Greek immigrants had already been met for the year, so instead she went to Mexico, lived on her uncle's ranch for two years (he had emigrated a few years earlier, came back to visit, and took her back with him when he saw how wretched her wicked stepmother was making her), and came to the US to marry my grandfather as a Mexican citizen.

She also spoke five languages fluently (Greek, English, Bulgarian, Spanish and Romanian), never had a cruel word to say about anybody, and could skunk the hell out of you at blackjack. She was pretty awesome, I tell you what. And that's worth knowing, except that ancestry.com couldn't tell me any of it aside from the entry-to-US dates.

Cash, your nephew has the loveliest, most thoughtful eyes! Vibing him and his serious wee face all kinds of big-and-strong~ma.

The Enwright branch of my family has the W because someone thought it seemed fancier.

Kick ass! Our next-door neighbor just got a spot on the Cincy Rollergirls. She does not have a Derby name yet.

I love thinking up derby names! Cincy is a great league, too.

I can't wait until Reece is big enough that I can visit and hold him. He's going to catch up in size. My sister says he's as feisty as all get out.

Great news, Cash! And Reece is amazing -- his eyes are mesmerizing.

Kat, no email yet, just FYI.

Reece is a cutiehead.

We know that Ancestry.com comes out of the giant database of public records and family trees that the LDS Church gathers for the conversion of ancestors of the converted, right?

Thus the nose-holding on my part.

Though, heh, I bet (it's been my place of refuge while I'm busy with a million and one work things, as sometimes I have to kill 5-10 non-thinking minutes while stuff... does things) THAT'S why I had a dream last night that I accidentally joined the FLDS.

I know my Uncle Walter (my dad's uncle, actually, but he was known as "Uncle Walter" throughout the family, and my brother-in-law has said that he really felt like he was part of the family the day he could suggest someone use Uncle Walter's knife for something and knew what he meant when he said it) was not named Walter Johnson before he came to the US, but no one knows how or why he changed his name. He was the first of my Russian relatives to immigrate, when he was 17 and didn't have much English. I have no idea how he swung that. But he's the one that got everyone else over after WWII.

I really doubt ancestry.com could tell me any of that because my dad's naturalization information was obscured when the original documents were bound into books (some key numbers disappeared into the bound part, apparently). OTOH, I think my mom does consult it for her genealogical research because she'll use whatever tools are available.

THAT'S why I had a dream last night that I accidentally joined the FLDS.

...so what explains my dream about being a pirate's daughter and needing to smuggle artwork into the US from a castle in Mexico so I could somehow save him? (no, I had not been reading trashy romances before bed!)

The 75% of my family that is traceable is all Scottish and English, and recently so. Therefore, many things can be found. Woo!

Of course, the whole reason I signed up was that I didn't know my Grandfather's parents' names, and I *still* don't know that. (Neither does my Dad. In his defense, his father did leave home at 13. So.)

Paul's family is creepily American. I find mine more entertaining.