Lane Morris Buckman's Blog, page 18

The Seduction of Inadequacy

I want to take this opportunity to talk about beauty. Black beauty. Dark beauty. I received a letter from a girl and I’d like to share just a small part of it with you: “Dear Lupita,” it reads, “I think you’re really lucky to be this Black but yet this successful in Hollywood overnight. I was just about to buy Dencia’s Whitenicious cream to lighten my skin when you appeared on the world map and saved me.”

My heart bled a little when I read those words. I could never have guessed that my first...

Selfie Love

Somewhere in the last few years, I have started hating to sit for portraits. I used to love it. Now, while I don’t mind candids, or family photos, I really, really hate sitting for my own studio portrait. This is why I have put off having new headshots, and why I used selfies for my last book’s media kit. This is also how I ended up having my head framed by a toilet in my last book’s media kit, when I accidentally fired off the unedited version of the photo in question.

So… New pictures.

I loo...

Rolling Down Hills, and the Climb Back to the Top

When I was little, I loved rolling down hills. It was thrilling and exciting to lie down at the top of an incline, make my body into a straight line, then bump bump bump bump flop flail boink my way down to the bottom in a mess of giggles, hair, and grass stains. I’d get to the bottom, run back to the top and start again. Lather, rinse, repeat until I’d made myself so sick, all I could do was lie on my back and watch the clouds until my stomach settled. It was good.

I don’t know what happens a...

Valentine’s Day: A Technical Failure

My Valentine.

Marrying my husband is one of the smartest things I’ve ever done.

We went out on our first date on January 24, 2002. Valentine’s Day came up quickly–I think it was our 4th date, in fact. I know our 3rd date was a Super Bowl party at Leslieann’s house.

For the big date night, B took me to a little hibachi restaurant, with a detour to a bookstore when we ended up having to wait longer than we’d anticipated. Hours later, we got back to the car, and he went to start it. It only took...

Yo Mamma

There are all these articles flying around the internet about mothering. Are you a SAHM? Are you a Working Mom? Get a job! Quit your job! You’re ruining your kids! All of you!

I am a working mother.

Yes, yes, I know all mothers work. All mothering is work. This is a truth. I am a working mother with several jobs, all of which I enjoy for some reason. I find great satisfaction in my day job, in my writing, in graphic arts, and in all the various and sundry things I pick up and put down throughou...

Genetic Drama

No one would ever accuse me of having been a quiet child. No one would ever accuse me of having been a mellow child. I have, and have always had FEELINGS. ALL OF THE FEELINGS!

When I found out I was having a boy child, I expected that he would be more temperamentally matched to his father–his father being a boy and all. I did not expect to find myself staring down at myself as I, in tiny boy form, tried to explain the weight, and the heft, and the width, and the breadth of my FEELS.

Darice, Ire...

The Damage Done

I’d like to set a timeline for you. I’d like you to read this and tell me if the timeline sits well with you, and if it does, why?

Somewhere between 1971–1973 a child is born. There is no record of her birth, but bone scans done in 1978 place her somewhere between the ages of 5 and 7. 1972 is chosen for her birth year.

1978: Little girl is adopted from her native Korea, into an American home around the age of 6

1979: Girl’s adoptive mother and father divorce, around girl’s age of 7

1980: Girl’s m...

Stuck In The Middle With Me

So, if you look at all my scores from every “type” test I’ve ever taken, I land right slap at the crossroads of Introvert and Extrovert. Some have scored me a socialized extrovert, meaning I’m naturally introverted, but have learned to fake it. Others have scored me an extrovert who is unusually into her own navel. If you ask me, I’m just a Me-trovert.

That is, I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it, regardless of the number of people attached to whatever that thing is.

I want to...

Opinions. I have them. Lots of them. Good ones, bad ones,...

Opinions. I have them. Lots of them. Good ones, bad ones, ridiculous ones, wrong-headed ones, light-hearted ones, even some moonbat ones–I have opinions. So, imagine the unrest in my soul, when 24-hours after the fact, I am still unable to formulate a solid opinion about sensory deprivation floatation therapy.

A good friend has had great results doing floatation therapy. It is meant to be restorative and stress relieving.

A therapeutic session in a flotation tank typically lasts between an hour...

Let Me Float You an Idea

Opinions. I have them. Lots of them. Good ones, bad ones, ridiculous ones, wrong-headed ones, light-hearted ones, even some moonbat ones–I have opinions. So, imagine the unrest in my soul, when 24-hours after the fact, I am still unable to formulate a solid opinion about sensory deprivation floatation therapy.

A good friend has had great results doing floatation therapy. It is meant to be restorative and stress relieving.

A therapeutic session in a flotation tank typically lasts between an hour...