"I'd have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I'd write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie's music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle-something heroic, or wonderful-that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous; that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream." - Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
I woke up under a white blanket; I feared the much anticipated snowfall would stand me up but it came with a furry. For some reason, snow is an essential topping on my Christmas cake. It's an excuse to tend to nothing other than the magic of it, which includes hot chocolate and pajamas and a good book after frolicking about in dust.
I'm feeling very nostalgic lately. Like I need things from when I was kid - Little House on the Prairie and a stairwell to come down on Christmas morning. And when everything stops and is still I notice the things that are and the things that aren't even moreso.
But there are some things I am not willing to give up this time of year...
I already have myself pegged. I'm going to be the kind of parent who is asked why her kid is throwing herself on the floor while yelling and refusing to get up and responds "because she wants to eat candy for breakfast and I won't let them." And why does your kid have a knot on his forehead and responds "because I told him to get off the kitchen table and he did. He fell off." Or why does your kid wears their pajamas to school every day and responds "because he likes them. They're probably comfortable."
I'm not one to panic, though people tell me its different when you have your own kid; EVERYTHING is different then. But I wonder if me not panicking causes others' panic.
I can sense a bit of urgency with other's at work, usually when I'm not in a panic, and they seem to think I should be up in arms. Really? They're kids - things happen. Things like bumps and bruises, and snot, and spills, and pouting, and tears, and running away, and tiredness, and hitting, and, well, I'm just not going to have my undies in a bundle about it. It just seems practical to make a kid knock if off if they need to......not always because you need them to.
Besides, you put your foot down for everything, not only is your foot going to hurt, but you're going to miss out on some riotous moments. Absolutely side-splitting.
Snow, coffee, pajamas, and Bon Iver. Yay for educators! I spent an extra long time in bed tending to nothing other than, well, being in bed. Christmas break is just around the corner and we'll have to make up this day at the end of the year, but I was tickled pink. And pink is not my color.
I needed a day to just breathe. Even the weekend rarely allows for such because I anticipate that time to get things done. This was just time.
After a discouraging pow-wow at work, nonetheless. But when God closes a door, I think he opens another door. It just looks different than the last.
I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner.
I believe in kissing, kissing a lot.
I believe in being strong even when
everything seems to be going wrong.
I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls.
I believe that tomorrow is another day
And I believe in miracles.
"I can believe things that are true and I can believe things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and Marilyn Monroe and the Beatles and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen - I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkledy lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women. I believe that the future sucks and the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass. I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste. I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like the Martians in War of the Worlds. I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman. I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when i was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do... I believe in an empty and godless universe of casual chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it." --Neil Gaiman
I believe in chocolate. I believe that Autumn is mine.
I believe that angles walk among us.
I believe my mother makes the best chicken soup you can find.
I believe children are often smarter than the adults that surround them.
I believe that all politicians are liars but I'll take any of the ones we've had over the ones we haven't.
I believe when God closes a door he opens another door.
I believe overalls are a valid fashion statement.
I believe this is just a moment in your life, not forever. I believe forever is a long time.
I believe in honesty when it hurts and I believe in forgiveness when it hurts.
I believe in giving your best even when you know its not going to be good enough.
I believe in a God who gives and a God who takes.
I believe in a baby's right to live.
I believe snow will always make me feel like a kid and the ocean will always make me feel small.
While I lived in Seoul I quickly adopted the habit of falling asleep with the TV on or my Ipod plugged into my ears. I lived in a one room apartment on the 7th floor. Everything in Seoul is built right next to or on top of each other, creating a mass of noise well into the night. I don't know if I was trying to drown it out, or add to it with a more familiar sound. Maybe to drown out all my worries and anxieties about being where I was. But somehow it has become difficult for me to fall asleep in a hush. I've been home for over a year now, and the uneasiness of dead silence still has an unexplainable affect on me.
In these cold nights I've been waking up just to rewrap the covers snug around me, and the presence of the subtle noise distracts my mind long enough to fall right back to sleep. But even that hasn't been able to lift my droopy eyes and stop my yawning throughout the day. I've been downing massive amounts of coffee and tea to try to keep up with the kids and with my workouts. Just to get to Christmas break...then I have crash written on the calendar.
My future surely holds such a daughter, I just know it. This is her getting ready before she performs as the lead guitarist at a bar rock show in which she'll stage dive into the crowd and decide to put her college education off even longer because she's hopelessly in love with her drummer.
E told me the other day that he was all done with me. I looked at him sadly, and asked him to reconsider. It must of hit him what exactly that meant because he turned to me with concern and a hug, saying "Oh, no." It's nice to be needed AND wanted at the same time.
I wish I could say exactly what I wanted to say exactly when I wanted to say it. Instead, I think of those words while pumping six miles out on the treadmill.
I always, always think of that show Out of This World, and how marvelous it would be if I really could freeze time so easily and collect my thoughts to deliver in an eloquent but effective manner. There are few feelings worse than the feeling of being pushed aside and letting it happen...don't you agree? Please do. And please admit that you lose your nerve too. It would make this day not so crap.
I may need pie days more often. Of course, I'll have to extend my gym time, but it would probably be worth it don't you think? Or maybe, it just wouldn't mean as much if it happened so often.
So far, the holidays haven't lost their charm as I've gotten older. I wonder how long that will last...I can sense a state of obligation, the strain that falls upon some people at this time of year.
THOSE people, somewhere along the way, have let the evils of the world break the spell. The spell that makes you feel like a little kid, because you have nothing to feel but excitement.
I'm resting on two helpings of turkey and stuffing, a couple rolls, a side of sweet potatoes, about 4 glasses of wine, some liquered up coffee, and 3 slices of pie. I think I'm still trying to make up for the year I missed. I don't know if you can get the holidays you miss back, but I sure plan on trying.
I'm turning into an old woman, about forty years too early.One who everyone knows, whether it be a neighbor or their Grandmother, and ask her the question, "Why in God's name do you sill have this," or "What the hell is this for?" She stacks things on shelves and crams things in closets, and even pushes them under the bed. Her furniture tops are never clear and she begins storing things in places that aren't meant for storage, i.e. the laundry basket. Yes, I am on the fast track to annoying pack-rat. I tend to hang on to things that have no function in my life, things that are useless due to various reasons: they are falling apart, I have no room for them, I should have outgrown them...I cannot bring myself to do away with these things, however, because of some emotional attachment I have developed towards them. Telling myself that I will most likely have a use for them later on has worked quite often as well - that candle chandelier that was a gift would fit nicely in the center of the dining room table or in end table at the spacious apartment I will have someday. I have a Lava Lamp that has sat on the floor of my closet for at least three years, probably more like five or six, but it was the Lava Lamp I begged my parents for because "everybody" had one. Picture frames and key chains and candle holders...too many to put them all to use. Old magazines about fitness or travel will come in handy next time I need to tone the buttocks or want to escape for awhile. I am a girl and with that declaration I think its safe to assume that I am emotional. Utterly, helplessly, and unreasonably emotional. Why or when certain emotions come forth, or attach themselves to people, places, and things is a mystery. Especially things; they're just things, but then I remember. There's the first Michael Jordan card I got that my Dad gave me when I was sick but still had the energy to jump up and down over. Now there are two shoes boxes full of most likely valuable basketball cards; I've never even come close to selling them. There's the Winnie-the-Pook figurine that adorned one of my birthday cakes and the stuffed animal I was given when I broke my wrist. I have a pile of stuffed animals which do nothing but collect dust. I will proudly proclaim that I do not sleep with any stuffed animals, though I have a few which are still displayed in my bedroom. I have a stereo - my first big purchase - which now only works when it wants to. Then there are the collections I was really into as a kid: stamps, coins, magnets. When I get married I am unsure how I will explain to my husband why we need to make room for the rock collection I had in the fourth grade. I should get rid of clothes. Clothes that (A) I have nowhere to wear them to or (B) I have worn and washed to such a thin layer they will eventually have to be peeled off and buried respectfully or (C) no long fit me. I will fit into them again some day I tell myself, but in some cases, they never fit me in the first place. It was a hopeful buy - a motivation or an ends mean for all my hard work. I have the dress I wore at my eighth grade graduation, over ten years ago, and haven't worn since. "I don't remember ever seeing that shirt before," my Mother will say. Well, that's probably because you haven't, Mom. "Is it new?" Depends on what passes as new. What about that skirt you got awhile back? Well, what about it? You still have it? Yes, its being preserved, you know, for that possible wedding or funeral...or an appearance on a late night talk show. I just like believing I'm prepared for things. Even clothes have sentimental value to me - I bought them on a great vacation or trekked through Europe with them. These are the pants I was wearing when I saw the most spectacular view of my life; this is the t-shirt I wore when my college team won the national championship. I imagine trying to move and realizing how many trips I have to make for boxes or how much I will have to pay someone with muscles to make the trip for me. Worse, my kids will be complaining after I die about how long its taking to go through my stuff; the weekends they're having to set aside and the garage sales and trash pick-ups they're having to arrange. Who gets what...or who actually wants what? Or maybe it will be genetic, and they'll be spared the trouble.
My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree, she walks the sodden pasture lane...Not yesterday I learned to know,the love of bare November days." --Robert Frost
I typically don't thrive at these kinda things - the kinda things you have to keep up with. So I don't want to wow you right off the bat. I'm not making this first entry all fancy and engaging, leaving you with a false sense of excitement or hope. I'm also not making any promises. Come back and visit; or don't. I may not either.