Author: Spilling The Beans

Mean Girls

Spilling The Beans

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” -Maya Angelou 

Mean things are remembered. A neighbor, friend and even old co-worker back in my travel agent days had a daughter in Blair’s kindergarten class. She had called me up one day out of the blue to let me know that my daughter was not going to be invited to her daughter’s birthday party. She wanted to give me a heads up because only a certain amount of girls could come to the party. My daughter Blair did not make the cut. I don’t even know how I responded, I do remember that phone call, and I thought it was mean.

More recently an interaction took place again in my neighborhood. I was going to join a book club with a friend of mine. She joined in right along, and I wanted to make sure it was okay with the other neighbors that I joined (most of the other club members have children Blair’s age). In short these women said “No, there are enough people in it.” Is it because I am a mean person? What did I do wrong? Why don’t they want me to join their club? 

I thought this was odd, it is hard to not think it was me. I took it personally as they used my name when asking if they minded a new member joined. I am the type of person that thinks the more the merrier. I’ve added a whole table on a holiday if I needed seating for one more. 

The other day I was brushing my hair back. I remembered a conversation I had with my Stepmonster. My Stepmonster said “if you think of it, most BEAUTIFUL people have a widow’s peak.” She then looked at my hairline,“oh look, you have the opposite of a widow’s peak.” What did she mean by that? My Step Grandma asked if I remembered the flower arrangement at a certain party for her husband. When I told her I didn’t know because I wasn’t there, she responded, “oh that’s right we could only have 75 there.” That is mean right? 

Over the years Blair and I have had several conversations on where kindness and meanness can get you. So here is a story about my friend’s dad.

“My father had a very small deli. It was in a neighborhood where he knew every single one of his customers. Back in the day, if a customer did not have money at the time, he would write it down on a brown paper bag and they would come into pay when they could. My father was a very hard worker he never came home before 7:00 PM. One night my father was there when two people with face masks on their heads held him at gunpoint for money. My father opened the cash register up and offered to get some more money from the back. My father was honest to a fault. The robbers did not want him going in the back to get money because he may be able to contact the police. As my father was getting money out of the cash register a little boy came into the deli to pay his bill before 7:00 PM. You know, one that was written on the paper bag. My father shouted “Go away, I’m closed.” This little boy ran home and told his mom what had happened. His mother called the police because she knew what a kind man he was. This was very out of character, as he would have stayed as late as someone needed. He was shoved in the meat locker by the robbers and the police came and rescued my father out. The moral of the story is that being nice always pays off.” 

When I heard that story I thought if I was the father, I would be dead for sure, and so would some of the above people I mentioned from the stories I shared. I have always thought I was a mean person. Did I get my meanness from my Stepmonster and Step Grandma? I really don’t feel I am a mean spirited person. I feel that I am just bitter due to mean interactions I have had with other people. 

Like I said Blair and I have always talked about where meanness can get you in the world. Sometimes it feels like mean people always win. Mean kids come from mean parents. I used to not believe Blair when people were being mean to her since it seemed so constant. From these interactions I have had, I now have a new perspective. To this day I can count numerous mean interactions I have had. I don’t exactly remember what the exact words were, but I will never forget how they made me feel. I will never forget how that mom called me about the birthday party, what my Stepmonster said about the widow’s peak, and now about not being included in a book club at the age of 58.  

Blairsy wrote me a note and posted it on our refrigerator before she went back to NYC at Thanksgiving. The note said “Mom, I’ll beat anyone up who hurt you. PS. Don’t forget your anxiety medication.” I love you B and believe all the people that were mean to you growing up and currently are mean now. I’ll beat them up baby girl. Blairsy, you and me against the world. Love you B. 

Beautiful

Spilling The Beans

Saying I have been busy is a lame excuse. I am a perfectionist, that is my real excuse. I did not want to share a new blog until I could give it my full attention. In adulthood, perfectionism is how my ADHD manifests itself. If you ever told high school Blair that she would be a perfectionist, no one including herself would believe it. If I could tell High School Blair that she is currently living her dream life she wouldn’t believe it either.  This is the life I spent hours daydreaming about while walking the hallowed halls of my public High School. I always dreamed of living in New York City! Currently, I am on my way to the library. Earlier I took a walk in central park and admired the skyline. I took a deep breath to soak in the moment. How did I get to New York? I have been asking myself this question. 

Getting ready to see Beautiful the Musical- in NYC for my 16th Birthday

I got to New York with Passion, Blood, Sweat and Tears. Okay maybe not blood but lots of tears. It was a big inner fight of figuring out what I really wanted but I always went back to my passion which is my love for theatre. Theatre has been my lifeline since I was little. I was always amazed at the lights, the costumes, the voices, the sound, puppetry and the meaning of the shows. I would perform my own shows and as soon as I saw a show I knew all the blocking. I could even predict the blocking (blocking is how a scene is positioned) for a show I had never seen. When I was 16 my mom took me to see my favorite show, which is Beautiful the Carole King Musical. It was an amazing experience. I met tony award winner Jessie Mueller after the show and this story inspired me. (Remember this it will come in handy later.)  

HARD work and self appreciation and acceptance paid off because I am currently in the Theatre Education program at New York University. If you told younger Blair that she is studying theatre in NYC she wouldn’t believe it. So when someone asks me what my next move is, I say I am studying to be an Applied Theatre Practitioner or an Artist. I’m in a two year masters program about the effects that art and theatre have on our culture and the world. 

My favorite class right now is Theatre for Young Audiences. Each week we have intense discussions about entertainment for youth. We talk about our experience with theatre.  Our discussion last week brought up all my trauma. We were discussing what is appropriate for young audiences and what we should expose young audiences to. I finally felt comfortable enough to share my story. This story intensified my passion for this field of study and helped me understand why I am here! I hope my experiences help others when they read my blog. 

When I was a sophomore I auditioned for my high school’s Spring musical. Which was Carrie…Carrie the Musical based on the book by Stephen King. Carrie was an off/on broadway show and at the time a local college performed it. This caused an uproar with the school board, PTA parents, staff and students. They felt that Carrie was inappropriate for a High School Theatre to perform. The arts directors and administrators argued it would be an anti-bullying show, since in the show Carrie was bullied by the students who pulled pranks, excluded, and made fun of her. They ended up having a small show to give our theatre department a unique look, since only colleges were performing it. The directors casted about 30 and had more than double audition. I was one of the cut kids. 

I explained in class that I wasn’t upset because I was cut, although that did upset me at the time. I was upset that no one saw my passion. I was even more upset that the school created an unhealthy competition by not including most of the kids in the musical and therefore created the same environment of exclusion the play identified as harmful. High school theatre should not be about competition, it should be about giving everyone the opportunity to express themselves artistically. It should be inclusive! 

Theatre teaches so much and I felt that the opportunity to learn and grow artistically was lost for those cut from the play. In high school I experienced a lot of exclusion. I was afraid to be myself and last week when I was sharing this with my class I said “I know High School isn’t a representation for the rest of your life” My professor said “it isn’t” and that my experience was “totally valid.” He could tell that it wasn’t just about being cut but about the whole idea and message of the show being ignored. He said “If you’re going to put on a show with an anti-bullying message then do it right.”  He and I both said we wish that we could tell so many students the same thing. It does not matter! 

I wish I could tell younger Blair not to stress as much, that those same feelings would motivate her to persevere and follow her dreams! It ultimately would earn her a spot at NYU. Never let someone else define you! I want to make it my mission not to let this happen at another high school. Remember when I said Beautiful the Carole King Musical is my favorite show earlier? That’s because almost everyday since I was 16 I would recite a few words from the musical to myself. “Sometimes life goes the way you want, sometimes it doesn’t and sometimes when it doesn’t you find something beautiful.” 

So again, to my young readers, go find your beautiful! Do not let anything get in the way of your passions. Let karma and nature take its course, be a good student, be true to yourself and most importantly become who you believe you are meant to be. Don’t listen to others who want to tear you down. You will find your people, you will find appreciation, it will all work out and most importantly what happens in high school doesn’t define you! Now go be beautiful and show the world all the love in your heart!

Jessie Mueller (Tony Winner) who played Carole King on Broadway and I in 2014

Time to End a Saying: Sympathy is in the Dictionary Between Suicide and Syphilis

Spilling The Beans

I had a couple of serious relationships before I got married. When those relationships ended, I was devastated. I was forever going to be alone. Quite frankly, this was another grieving process I had endured. There are many kinds of losses that feel like emptiness can never be full or whole again. How do we survive without our spouses, pets, siblings, parents, grandparents, friends, aunts, uncles? How again, did I survive?

Then at age 30 I finally met my husband, Erik. (You know that story from an earlier blog). During our wedding vows, the Rabbi said to us, “Stacey, you have waited a long time for this.” I replied, “Amen,” and the ceremony guests were laughing. So that brings me to relationships ending for any reason. It’s a huge loss, often feeling alone, devastated, and truly grieving. All losses are not equal but the emptiness in your stomach can feel the same as the death of a loved one. My stepmom in my devastation, had a saying to live by. It was, “Sympathy is in the dictionary between suicide and syphilis.”

Okay so we know I didn’t get my sympathy and empathy gene from her. She wanted me to move on and she wasn’t going to be a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on. My Aunt Anita, my biological mom’s sister who I often yearned for, would be someone I wanted to have meaningful conversations with, and on such occasions would similarly say, “Buck up buttercup.” Perhaps my stepmother and aunt sound like some of your relatives under such similar losses?

When my first breakup occurred, I was in college. I did work hard to “buck up” and “move on.” I put my energy into school. I read my textbooks and tried to focus more. It paid off; I had an amazing semester and improved my G.P.A. It was validating, a coping skill something no one could take away. How it happened I have no idea, but those so in touch with their feelings like me, must work twice as hard. I had climbed the mountain again and I survived these breakups.

However, I also belonged to a support group. This support group had others who had some of the same struggles as me. I struggled with control. I often talked to myself and others about the things you can and can’t control.  We can’t control other people, places, or things. Let’s put it this way, I say you can’t control “nouns.” But we can control how we react and truthfully that’s it.  During such difficult times, I began to recite the serenity prayer.“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” Oh, how that prayer resonates with me. So please take my advice. If you are experiencing loss of any type, it is not just about self-care. Yes, you must take control and, and this is a big AND find people like you, so you know you are not alone. I would be so humbled and honored if you reached out to me to start that process. Then it is my hope you too can heed my new saying. A saying with a more positive universal spin, “Sympathy is in the dictionary between support and symphony.”

Happy Birthday to My Biggest Cheerleader In Heaven

Spilling The Beans

One freezing, sunny and beautiful March 3rd Morning I found myself reading an email that would change my life for better. Everything I have ever wanted since I was eight was right there. I was having a horrible week and I, being an empath, could just feel that shit was hitting the fan and something drastic was going to happen. I was just having a bad week. A week that led me to need some clarity so I went to the cemetery to visit my little brother. I was sobbing, waiting and surrendering my life to the universe. I had to leave the cemetery and go to work and that’s when I looked at my phone at what seemed to be the longest stop light ever. It was an email from NYU that said “please view here a decision has been made on your application.” I wanted to read it to get it over with so the worst week could continue to be the worst week and to my surprise read “congratulations you have been admitted.”

 Today is April 3rd it would have been my brother’s 21st birthday and although he passed on now our bond is so strong. When my brother passed away my mom had a session with our energy reader and my brother came through. At this point in my life I was going to graduate college and I didn’t know what I was going to do. My brother told my mom ““Do not let Blair stay home, I will help her get to New York for Broadway. Her dream.” My family and myself have been very hard on me and where I am headed, my dreams of being an artist always got pushed aside as it’s seen as not a real job. I am ambitious and I know I have it in me to make a real difference through my passion and my brother knew it too. 

It wasn’t until December I was having my very own session with our energy reader and she asked “what do you want to do in life if money was no object?”  I told her about New York and she said your brother wants to help you but, you have to ask him. I applied to NYU in January and since then everyday I wrote in my journal asking my brother to help me. On February 14th I was getting ready to leave for a business trip in Baltimore when I begged and begged my brother while falling asleep for him to give me a sign and show me my next steps. That Wednesday I was randomly walking around downtown Baltimore and saw a sign as plain as day “Blair New York 88”. I looked at what the number 88 meant and it is an angel number that means good luck, fortune and, new beginnings. As I share this story with you I am listening to the song called “Where it is written” sung by Barbra Streisand from the movie Yentl. “And tell me where, where is it written what it is I’m meant to be. That I can’t dare to see the meanings In the mornings that I see.” and it was written. So clearly. Blair New York 88. I want to thank my brother because I know that I am where I am because he is rooting for me. In his story I want to share with my future students. As a future theatre educator I want to create a safe space where they can share their quirks, their questions of why and tear down boundaries against one another. So another big thank you to my inspiration Ethan who was quirky asked a ton of questions and attempted to tear down boundaries. Cheers to my biggest cheerleader in heaven. Happy 21st and together we will celebrate our milestones and passion. 

I Will Survive

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There are many things that caused me pain and grief, but you have heard a lot of those stories. Now it is time to share how I was able to get through my first horrific loss, the loss of my mom. She died when I was twelve and she was 33. There is a song by Gloria Gaynor titled I will survive. This song has resonated with me since it came out in the late 1970’s. There is a lyric that goes like this:

Oh No, not, I will survive

Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive

I’ve got all my life to live

And I’ve got all my love to give and I will survive

I will survive

So how did I survive? I picture the future. When I was 14 my Dad married a person who truly made my life miserable. This was almost worse than losing my mom. My dad let this mean person play my new mom and let her make decisions. The worst decision was sending me to boarding school. My Nana was my protector. I ran away to live with her at 15. My dad or stepmother called me while I was living with her and asked If I planned on coming home. I stated,”No”. Well I always struggled for a family and was lonely living with Nana.

When I returned home. My beautiful bedroom was gone. I had a beautiful room. It was purple pink and orange with a den step up carpeted mattress with three step up levels. It had painted graphs (a Seventies thing) cloth wall paper that matched my bedspread. Okay long description short, my step mother changed my 2 rooms into one with gold carpeting and a quilt. After two months of being home they decided I was going to a therapeutic boarding school. My Nana asked if I wanted to come back to live with her but I said “No”. I just wanted out.

So here I was this preppy girl going to a school for troubled teens. Was I a troubled teen? I hadn’t done drugs, didn’t drink and wasn’t sexually active but I had a rotten home life. Now you are still asking Stacey enough, what got you through. What got me through was knowing that I was in charge of my life when I turned 18. My choices, My life. I was lucky enough to have financial security through my Nana.

I would picture myself going to college, having my own family and knowing my life was mine. I would put scenes in my head as I did tasks, such as making my bed or doodling on paper what my future was. Today, I practice the same thing when I work with students and let them know. Getting through school is their ticket to the future and to picture their future. I graduated one year later than expected because the boarding school wasn’t based on grade levels but on a different level system. Today in the scheme of things it doesn’t matter. I graduated high school and went to college.  (I’ll save the college history for another time) . So again as a tool, think of outcomes and manifest what you want . Your future is up to you, your choices and decisions it is all about but knowing when you will be in control and that you will survive.

One Cup of Love

Spilling The Beans

I am leaving tomorrow for a business trip for a whole week. I have always said growing up is hard to do and some days I miss my innocence. As I finish up writing this raw blog I just finished wiping away tears from my face and blowing my nose. My tears were and are separation anxiety tears. Ever since my brother passed away it’s been my parents and I, then my boyfriend came along and its been the four of us ever since. The three of them are my personal cheerleaders. I feel so safe and comfortable with the three of them. I am so comfortable at home, it’s hard because I wish the rest of the world was mirrored. On this blog I have often talked about my past, the good the bad and the ugly. When I am with the three of them I can forget about everything because I feel so seen and heard. When I am having a hard time in life I think about positive childhood memories I have. 

So today being Valentine’s day it just makes sense to write about my Valentines Day past. 

My parents were the first people that ever truly loved me. They are the first people I ever truly loved. I have a vivid memory of my mom and I in our new house when I was little. I had just gotten my hand-me-down play kitchen that was yellow it was in our living room. I woke up from my nap to a game of hot and cold, finally I found a purple Barbie tin with candy in it in my play kitchen cubby holder. I then think about the time she bought me a Valentines Day outfit to wear to my class party. It was hearts head to toe including underwear. My mom always came to my school celebrations. She would stick a card in my lunchbox with a puppy love broach from her and my dad. When I couldn’t be with them, I always got a card and a little treat from the dollar store. 

I always loved giving people treats and giving my classmates valentines. You remember filling the decorated brown paper bags hung up under the white board too right? I especially loved giving the ones with Bratz dolls on them.

I made a vow this year that instead of a regular New Years resolution my resolution was to love. Although before my year of love I have always been known to be a hard lover. I have always given really hard hugs and kisses to the people I love. Tonight my parents and boyfriend were all sitting around the dining room table trying to comfort me my mom asked me “what do I have control over?” Here is what I have control over in this minute. I know I want to mirror my home life of comfort, safety and security that my parents and boyfriend and many others have provided to me. I wish everyday I could give people treats that told them how much I truly appreciated them just like you do in school on Valentines Day. It’s not just about champagne and rom-coms and chocolate covered strawberries, but being reassured that love exists and is what truly makes the world go around. Here is to loving with my whole heart and working through separation anxiety.

And Just Like That

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Should old acquaintances really be forgotten? Each year I have found a giant roller coaster of interactions with people. I was out to lunch with my friend in 2020 when she mentioned to me, “Blair you are such a Carrie.” I responded with “Aww Thanks.” “Blair, Carrie is the worst character on Sex and The City. I hate her.” We continued to be friends for another year. In the beginning of last year, she told me that “I didn’t work hard enough.” 

And then I realized, this year I felt like I finally had time to comprehend the last 23 years of my life. I began this year in a terrible three month depression. I got deferred from a program I was interested in. I broke up with one of my best friends and most importantly I have learned how to work and be around very difficult people that for whatever reason keep coming into my life. I analyzed my interactions with peers and families, and I had the opportunity to render my past and move forward. Growing up it hasn’t been easy, I felt that I was always beaten down and never good enough. Why is it so hard to learn how to play the game of life? This year has felt like one long game of Russian Roulette…

Not only did the new Sex and the City spin-off come out, but the Friends Reunion happened along with Michigan State winning the U of M game and the final season of the Kardashians has ended on E. Not to mention this grueling pandemic that most days seems there will never be an end to. I have people in my life that love and respect me and give me their undivided attention and unconditional priceless love. This year I have learned what I am worthy of, and that is my dreams, my friends, and my family. I refuse to let anything have power over me and I have decided that my New Years resolution will be to love because that is my life purpose. In fact that is all of our life’s purpose: to love. So yes, I feel that old acquaintances should be forgotten. This year my New Year’s Resolution will be to give people a clean slate and be weary of the ones that wronged me. I have decided that this year I will measure my success in kindness. Instead of seeing the glass half empty or full, I am going to be grateful that I have a glass at all this year. I am a survivor of 2021. And, just like that today we will move forward into 2022.

First Annual Bean Drive

Spilling The Beans

Dear Family and Friends,
As you know, in March of 2021 we started a blog together. Although we feel strongly that words are powerful, we know that in our hearts actions always speak louder than words. When we started this blog our idea was to create a platform where we share our thoughts, build community and make the world a better place along with all of our supporters. We are so excited to announce our first ever annual Bean Drive. Spilling The Beans has partnered with Lighthouse, an organization in Pontiac, MI that responds to poverty in our community. 
To make our Bean Drive special we are asking people to donate Beans, Coffee Beans and Jelly Beans. We are also asking for more “treat like items” that families would normally not have access to, such as Birthday Cake Mixes, Powdered Milk, Feminine Hygiene Products and Flip Top Cans. I have attached a full list of what donations they accept to this email. Donations will be accepted at my house starting this Friday through the end of the month. I can also arrange for pickup. 
The world can be a truly dark place and especially difficult around the Holidays. We hope that you will join us (and encourage your other friends to join us too) in our efforts to make the world a better place, today is Giving Tuesday but we feel that everyday should be Giving Tuesday. Please let me know if you have any questions and please subscribe to our blog. 

Rose Colored Lenses

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A few months ago I was consulting with someone for spiritual guidance on the acceptance of others. She said to me “Blair, you know you are an amazing person. These people have their human glasses on and they can’t see how special you are because of their life experiences. People can be so limited.” Sometimes I don’t know if I am making up this mistreatment of myself because of my own inadequacies or anxieties or if people really have bullied me and mistreated me. For example I was on Instagram and it suggested I follow someone that I grew up with. I went to preschool with this person, went to his bar mitzvah and graduated high school with him. I decided to give him a follow to keep connected. He accepted my follow request but didn’t want to follow me back. Am I truly not good enough for him to want to follow me back? These could be my lenses? What do your lenses tell you? 

This is just one quick example this week that I can give to you. Either way today I know I am so not alone when I think of the many people who may have my same anxieties. After all, it’s human nature to want to be included and liked by others. There are many other people who quite frankly just lack empathy or are narcissistic without meaning to be. I have realized there are people with different priorities than mine. I am sure you’ve heard of saying see the world through Rose Colored Lenses. According to Dictionary.com rose colored lenses means “A cheerful optimistic view of things, usually without valid basis.” I have come to terms that the idea of others having different colored lenses is the only concrete explanation I can give myself when dealing with difficult, mean people or people that have a low self esteem and lack of self awareness.  

I have discovered these people are somehow unable to learn from their struggles or hide them behind a facade. It’s hard for me because I truly want to help them, but we see through different glasses or lenses. When venting to others, I am told we are to feel bad for these people and although I am an empath I sometimes find it hard to feel bad for those that don’t accept me. Although I know this is because of their own insecurities. The truth is that our lenses can be many colors other than rose. They’re foggy, they’re progressive lenses, trifocal, bifocal, plastic, scratch resistant and so on. It is okay to see the world differently. We were all given different experiences for a reason and this is why we have different lenses. I believe on a spiritual level that we are all handed the cards we are dealt to learn from, after we have learned we can then begin to help others, have empathy and support one another. So this is why we go to an ophthalmologist or optometrist every two years because our prescriptions are supposed to change.

25 Years

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After 25 years, Erik is sometimes the only person who can comfort me. He understands the exact same deep rooted sadness I have in many aspects of my life. He is the first person I call when I am excited or panicked. Erik still makes me laugh. How did I meet Erik you ask? Before the internet, there were single ads. He wrote one in the Detroit Jewish News (yes, people wrote ads and there was a whole section just for Jewish men. This was our version of JSwipe). Just like the Pina Colada song only he also said he was an entrepreneur (Yeah right). My Step-Monster inquired for me. She left him a voicemail in her smokers cough deep voice that said “I give you permission to call my daughter, you have a lot in common.” 

I didn’t really like aquariums, or scuba diving, however I do love 70’s music, humor and affection. He then proposed to me by writing a newspaper article and sending it to my house in the mail as he was a graduate from the school of journalism Masters program at MSU. His creativity is something I have always adored. We both are creative as I am thinking about the awesome scrapbook I made for him when we got married. 

So fast forwarding 25 years, today is my 25th wedding anniversary with my Erik. I truly ask myself what is unconditional love? Well first Erik gave me my purpose. He helped me get into my Social Work program and made me a mom. There are days where we have our death by (marriage) chocolate scoop of Ice Cream and days where we hike in the Rocky Mountains.

When we got married during our vows the Rabbi said “Stacey I give you your Erik and Erik I give you your Stacey.” Years later I was talking to the Rabbi and he mentioned that for some reason when he marries a couple, if they get divorced they seem to get angry with him. I joked at the time and said Rabbi, that’s because they resent you for giving them to each other. I remember him pondering that thought. As with most marriages, the ups and downs and people post on Facebook there is no one else I’d rather spend my life with, but for me there is truly no one else I’d rather spend my life with. Our family of four was perfect, our dogs, our house and our kids. 

Losing a child is very hard in a marriage. I have met people where the relationship may sever or it could get stronger. Something different about my marriage is that I know Erik loves me unconditionally. Can I say that about anyone else besides Blair? The answer is no. No one has stuck by my side unconditionally like Erik. Not even a parent. I lived with my biological father up until I was 3 and have had sporadic contact throughout the years. My step dad decided that he would let his wife make any and all parental decisions and again sporadic contact with him throughout the years. 

What is unconditional love? Unconditional love is sticking through thick and thin when all the wind is blowing against you, walking towards each other. Losing power and regenerating. Unconditional love is a love so profound it heals the deepest wounds. So what’s the secret? I am honestly not sure, maybe it’s putting someone else’s needs before yours, maybe it’s being honest, but for me it is the person who is stable in my life that I know will be home for me when I open the door after a long day of work who is watching The Odd Couple. 

 Happy Anniversary, Erik, I love you.