Out With the Old

The last meal I cooked in 2003 was roast with butter and Cabernet Sauvignon sauce and a variation on the theme of ratatouille (spinach, eggplant, garlic, and stewed plum tomatoes). I created this delight in my new Le Creucet pot (cherry red) courtesy of Sarah. I listened to this girl’s diary while chopping, dicing, and stirring those plump, fragrant vegetables and spices. After dinner I sliced myself a piece of chocolate cake and poured myself a thick wine goblet of eggnog (with Christian Brothers Brandy and cinnamon).

Tonight I will ring in 2004 in the company of and old friend from High school. I’ve known this woman since we were both 14. We are going to the Kennedy Center for a jazz concert and after party.

All in all 2003 was good for me. I can’t imagine what will be true for me a year from today—I guess I’ll just close my eyes and hold on tight.

You are Ralphy! A complete dreamer and positive
thinker. You WILL get that Red Ryder bb gun!


Which A Christmas Story Character Are You?
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Elijah Wood
Please rate this quiz I worked hard on it thanks
and I hope that you had fun


What Celebirty are you going to MARRY?!(14 outcomes with pics for anyone)
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Tickle Me Elmo and Tension Tamer Tea

Last night when Alberta came up for a chat she brought me three bags of tension tamer, a wonderful tea she first introduced to me on a visit a couple of months ago. This stuff instantly relaxed me then. So I had some tonight to keep my headache at bay (I still feel it lurking) which I know is as emotional as it is physical.

My mom and I had another good talk tonight. I'm trying to be patient with her as she rehashes a lot of issues in her life because I know she needs me to listen to her. I also feel her being willing to listen to me, trying not to be so self-absorbed, and I feel myself responding to that effort. We talked more about the miniature diningroom set, and she told me that the way I received her gift on Christmas lit up her soul--that she could feel my joy so strongly it was as though she had been given something priceless.

We also discussed her star gift to me the Christmas that I was 22. Two months prior to the holiday that year I had wanted a "Tickle Me Elmo" (before the hype broke out), but I didn't buy it. As time wore on, I realized that I loved the idea of owning one, but it was nearly impossible to get one as Christmas drew closer. My mom called me one morning mid-month and casually asked me if I really wanted it--or if I had been just kidding. I told her that I did, but that I thought I'd just buy one a couple months later when things died down. I took her question at face value.

On Christmas morning my sisters and I opened up all our presents and I was pleased as usual--totally satisfied with my mother's generosity. And then she directed me to a present I had missed at the back of the tree. I was shocked that there could be more, so I began opening this last gift with no clue what it could be. I know I was 22, but my pleasure was unchecked and lacked guile when I saw what it was--much like it was this year when I got my little dining set back. And I heard God speak to me in that moment, in an instant, He said to my heart "how much more would I give you if you would ask?"

My mother has always been the conduit of God's generosity toward me. She has always been the source of the symbols of hope He gives me. I cannot tell you how many times my mother has gone to great lengths to bring me what I longed for, but didn't think of as being possible to receive.

So, she asked about good old Elmo when I told her about the experience I had with God upon opening it all those years ago. He was in a bag with other stuffed animals in my closet, and it suddenly seemed wrong to me that this should be his fate. She said "I think you should take him out since he's a symbol of what God promised you." I had been thinking the same thing at that very moment, so I liberated him.

He's sitting on the couch.

A gentle answer turns away wrath but a harsh word stirs up anger--Proverbs 15:1

I pondered my possible courses of action concerning Gordon's e-mail and I decided to answer his note in the spirit in which I perceived it to have been sent. After praying through the matter and weighing the merits of drawing a harsh line in the sand vs. the merits of a cumbersome, clunky "this is how you've hurt me" manifesto, I decided that there was potential damage to be done in either scenario. I realized that for as cut and dry as his lack of communication seems to me, there is a whole side of this story I don't know. His side. It is always better to lead with the benefit of the doubt when it comes to friends. It is always better to lead with a question than a presupposition.

In my life I have written terribly hurtful letters to people, and even when my anger was justified, I found scathing comments to brook no further discussion and to be alienating. Believe me, you cannot hold rage against your heart for warmth.

I think that wisdom entails knowing what is called for when. There is a time for drawing lines in the sand, but one must only do that when one has all the information there is to have. Depending upon Gordon's response to my e-mail (which does beg a reply), I will know if I should address his perceived negligence.

Also, even in a spirit of rebuke, to give too much up front wouldn't allow me the dignity of proffering a measured response. Even anger, in a way, should be earned. By giving full vent to my feelings all at once I would be saying to him that he does not have to work to know what I think. I get to decide what I will let him know and what I won't.

So I told him I'd been fine,that Christmas was good, but that I thought it odd not to have heard from him before now, and that I hoped he was okay. This was the one path I felt comfortable taking, that didn't feel false, or like a cop out.

I've spent the last two days at Sarah's. On Friday we went to visit with her parents and extended family in Carlisle, Pennyslvania. I was less than an exemplary traveling companion due to my lingering tension headache. To make matters worse, I got one of those terrible sores on the back of my gum on the left side that is usually the result of a compromised immune system and/or stress.

Anyway, last night after getting back we finally opened up our presents to each other. It was like a full blown celebration all over again. Because Sarah's moving out left me with almost no kitchen tools, she outfitted me with my own stuff, and I am excited to start playing with my fun new toys (including a blender!).

Tonight Catherine came over to eat dinner and we all had a good discussion about behavior patterns we'd like to work on changing, or contine to improve in 2004. My big thing for the next calendar year is being better adept at taking my emotional temperature.

Speaking of which, my mom and I had a lovely conversation this morning. She called my cell phone just as I was waking up, and we were able to clear the air even more from our confrontational discussion a few weeks ago (in which I told her I was furious at her for so many things her head would spin if she knew about them all).

The incognito/negligent Gordon sent me a pitiful excuse of an e-mail this morning. Not sure how to reply to this thing yet. I'm praying through my feelings to formulate an appropriate answer. I'm also disciplining myself by waiting to respond for a few days. I would normally write back immediately, but I can honestly say I did not feel inclined to dignify his e-mail-- which was so counterintuitive to anything even remotely resembling our level of friendship--with a prompt reply. Honestly, in some ways it was better when I'd not heard from him in a month, because this 2-sentence communique was just insulting. I debated never replying. It's still an option. I feel good about the fact that I didn't have my normal desire to send him a scathing letter so mean-spirited it could peel the outerlayer of his soul. I have, instead, a desire to be honest with him without alienating him. I guess that's progress.

Now, I am happily back in my apartment, getting ready to put my presents away, and reconnecting with my space. I'm listening to John Mayer's "City Love" and thinking about how far I've come since I first heard this song.

My family has been gone for an hour. I am left with thoughtful presents, including candles, candleholders, a pair of flattering personality glasses (coveted), bath beads, a bracelet with earthtone stones (from Crystal's boyfriend), a fridge full of my mother's lavish, generous culinary delights, a few bottles of liquor, two bottles of wine, a new set of tools (majorly desired!), and a recovered item from my childhood. Utterly forgotten before today.

When I was about five my mother bought me a handpainted diningroom set in miniature. It is black with yellow and red accents painted on the top and around the backs of the chairs and on the seats. Tiny. I remember that it delighted me as soon as I saw it the first time. I was staying with my grandmother a lot on weekends at this time in my life, and when my mother brought it to me, I remember my grandmother immediately taking it away from me. She said she didn't want me to break it or harm it. So it sat high up on a shelf of hers for years. I remember looking at it all the time, wanting it, but feeling that I was powerless to own it.

Eventually, I stopped thinking of it at all.

The first thing my mother handed me when she arrived today was this miniature set. It took about two seconds for me to really understand what I was looking at. Then, I just felt happy that at 30 I should have something that was taken away from me 25 years prior. My mother told me that she had tried to give it back to me when I was a teenager, but I said I didn't want it. I scorned it apparently. Funny, I can't think why I would have had such a harsh reaction. It would never occur to me to forfeit my rights to it now. As a matter of fact, today, when I thought of how it was taken from me, I felt violated and angry at my grandmother, who has been dead for nearly four years. But, I refused to let myself miss the point.

Something I lost came back to me today. Something I once despised out of pride when I was first given the opportunity to possess it again is now with me. I felt like a little girl again, free to take pleasure in my mother's gift and her presence.

I'll talk about this more later, but I will say for the time being that I felt the potential for a lot of healing in my relationship with my mother today. I had the best Christmas I've had in years--since I was very small.

And His Name Shall Be Called...

My alarm went off this morning at 8:15. My tension headache was still there, waiting for me. In spite of a hearty rum and coke and hours with a heating pad last night, vestiges of it lingered, and my neck contracted and expanded its "good morning" greeting as soon as I opened my eyes. Merry Christmas to you too, I thought.

I left Caryl sleeping beside me and hopped into a hotter-than-necessary shower hoping to beat this pain at its own game so I could enjoy the birth of my Saviour. I donned my favourite Eddie Bauer flannel (a present on Christmas '98) and jeans and made my way down to 7-11 for half & half and eggs. I promised Caryl french toast stuffed with apricot preserves and ricotta cheese for breakfast. It came out pretty well, and was happily accompanied by country link sausage and coffee with an accent of kaluha.

I love the amount of tradition with which we've been able to infuse our celebration this year. Last night we (Me, Caryl, and Sarah) attended a lovely Eucharist at a nearby Episcopal parish. To say that it was lovely to be singing "Silent Night" at midnight in the sanctuary lit only by candles would be an understatement.

My family should arrive at about 3 p.m. at which time I hope to have the house smelling of appetizers and holiday fragrances and to have everything looking cozy. George Winston's "December" is playing in the background as I type. Caryl and I have decided to read from the prophet Isaiah and from the book of Luke before we all break bread this evening.

And I don't want to speak too soon, but I think this headache is almost gone.

Every once in a great while (it used to be a more frequent occurrence) I get muscle tension headaches. It's not a persistent ache. More like a spasming, contracting muscle in some quadrant of my brain that twinges like the devil every five minutes or so. A muscle group in my neck or shoulder is usually responsible. Tension lives in my back for the most part--but this particular expression of it is especially evil.


My sister Caryl worked on my back and neck for quite a while last night, and after taking 3 different kinds of over the counter medicine, and an expired muscle relaxant to no avail, it was a kneading massage and kaluha and cream that did the trick. Back in the day I used to rely on a roommate's heating pad and some peppermint schnapps. Why don't I own either of these things now?

The terrible part of all this is that I can still feel it (the headache) there. It's duller, less persistent, but even after a full day of torture it's still "blinking" on and off like a spastic christmas tree light. The only thing that might really help is to get utterly toasted before the Midnight Christmas Eve service tonight.

Understated. Basic. Scholarly.

A few weeks ago my watch battery died. I usually only keep a watch for one battery life anyway. I know it's wasteful by a lot of people's estimations, but I am typically ready for a new timepiece by about the second or third year, which is the average battery cycle. My recently-laid-to-rest watch was silver with links. Big and clunky just like I liked my watches for a long time. A woman's watch but tough, almost masculine.

I bought that watch about 2 and a half years ago. The same day I bought all new underwear, CKB from Hecht's, and got salon nails for the first time. I was sad beyond meausure and had never shopped that way before. I don't even mean the amount of stuff, or the money spent. I was trying to lose myself. Other than the nails and the perfume, which were obviously luxuries, I needed the things I bought that day. I picked the watch because it made me feel strong. It appealed to a coldness in me that loathed whatever made my heart so vulnerable to the crushing shame I felt. Even the nails that day were about that. It had nothing to do with femininity. They were nails that, in the words of Cake, "shined like justice."

So, when that watch stopped ticking 14 days ago, I decided that I wanted a smaller, thinner watch--one with a leather/faux leather band--with a small face. A classy, but unpretentious "woman's watch."

Last night, as is the yearly custom, Sarah gave me a few presents to open early. One of them was just such a watch. She said she got it because it made her think of literature and grad school. It was exactly what I had envisioned.

Holiday Lunch

Bina, Catchka, Karenina, Rachael,and I ate in the conference room today (wholefoods smorgasbord) and exchanged presents. I got some lovely clove and tuscan herb-scented candles, ground coffee (cafe verona), and a dream dictionary. Not bad for the preliminary gifts. Not bad at all. I love that Rachael wrapped her offerings to us in Spongebob Squarepants paper.

I love that people are starting to file out early, and won't be back for the rest of the week. I love that things are coming together, and that even though I went all out again this year, and am temporarily broke, that I'm going to get to see the people I love open up presents I know they will love.

And I'm happy that a good friend and former roommate of mine has a man in her life who's flying home with her to meet her family. She's one of those women who is long overdue for someone; I hope this is it for her.

I'm so over being at work right now. I feel like I should be stringing up cranberries and popcorn or something. Standing around a piano with friends singing something campy like "The Twelve Days of Christmas."

Your sign of frustration is....Yelling!!! The best
way for you to let out all your frustration is
to yell. A good tamper tantrum, is your
solution to all your problems. The bigger the
tantrum, the better. You're a very expressive
person!


What sign of frustration are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I ran out of tape last night, so I've had to stop the wrapping frenzy for the time being. I've never been this far ahead of the game (which I know is not terribly far) before. All of my preparations will be complete before Christmas eve this year. A sign of maturity, perhaps?

I asked my mom to ask her friend to contribute the spirits to our Christmas festivities. I left her a voicemail message yesterday. When she called me back just a while ago, she said she would ask Jim to do just that, and then puts him on the phone! What's that about? My mom has always made me her go between with the men in her life. As a little girl I had to ask my stepdad to do certain things, because she felt he would say yes if I asked. I just felt so resentful of that all over again.

I'm praying for the strength to hold my tongue and not air our family business in front of Crystal's boyfriend, but more than that, to be the one who can rise above my irritations and just be glad that I have people I love enough by whom to be irritated. I really just want to have a day of food flowing freely, spiked egg nog and punch, appetizers, movies with holiday themes/christmas music playing in the background, and cooking with my mother in the kitchen. I want everyone to have a good time. But I worry about this desire of mine maybe being unrealistic.

I want to believe that everything is going to work out, that everyone will really like the presents I got them, that it won't suck, again, on some level this year...

Joy to the World! The Lord Is Come...

"Joy to the World" is my favourite Christmas hymn and Mariah Carey's version (complete with Gospel Choir) from her 1994 Christmas album is the one that captures the spirit of the song best (for me). This is a big song with big proclamations (Joy to the world...Let men their songs employ... ). Let there be joy. Joy is now. In case you were wondering. The heart of this song beats audaciously, and it says "if you've been waiting for Christ, wait no more. Here he is. Let everything and everyone sing. Let the earth be glad."

for the record, Jesus, I repeat the sounding joy of you, my king, who WAS and IS and IS TO COME!

Want a plane that loops the loop (I still want a hula hoop); we can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don't be late. (Alvin & the Chipmunks)

Last night after work, instead of going to the office holiday party (which I had been boycotting, but then wasn't, and then just decided not to go) I went to the mall. I actually dread the mall more and more as I advance in years, but this time of year has got to be my least favourite time to go. With that being said, I got some really lovely things for my sisters, and felt tons better about the arrival of Christmas day (before 7:00 p.m. last night I'd had yet to purchase anything for the girls).

This morning at 7:30 (I spent the night at Sarah's place) I got up, showered, and we headed to Target (the promised land for many shoppers). I actually love that store more and more as I get older. They managed to do what Wal-Mart never could (and never will). They've managed to establish themselves as a credible place for people of all socio-economic classes to shop. It's all marketing, and they've done a bang up job.

Speaking of bang up jobs, I did one today at the bull's eye by finding several cool things to delight friends and family alike. Now I just need to get to a wholesale food club (tomorrow morning) to get hors d'oeuvres (mini quiche, etc.) and liquor for the holiday family dinner I'm hosting.

About a month ago I requested a 6-month performance evaluation discussion with my immediate supervisor. Even though I have been here for about 7 months, it's essentially still the halfway mark, and I wanted to be proactive, especially in light of some discussions I had with her about a month ago. I don’t like feeling powerless, and I don't like my work ethic to ever appear less than exemplary. We had that discussion this morning and it went very well. It helped me to feel better about work than I have in weeks.

Okay, so at about 11:50 Sarah, Michael, and I ordered Chinese carryout for lunch that didn't come till almost an hour and a half later. Needless to say, we were ravenous when it finally showed. After such a long wait, though, it was more tepid than hot, and I didn't feel that there were enough shrimp in my entree.

It was slushy and snowy not an hour ago, and now it's dry as a bone out, and a glinting glare from the evening sun has illuminated the side of the Courtyard Marriott hotel.

Care Package

Catherine and I have been bantering via e-mail for weeks about how to create "Sanctuary Now!" in my apartment which I both love and loathe. Even though I am looking to move sooner rather than later, I know I need to stop waiting for my real life to start. So, I have been trying to intentionally enjoy living there by making it comfortable and cozy--like a treehouse or a fort or something.

To that end, I received a wonderful package from Catherine, containing an "everything included" cross stitch project, crayons, a coloring book (w/stickers!), two red taper candles, and my copies of the photos taken with Catherine's camera when I was in Boston at the end of the summer. Even though yesterday was a beautiful day for mail (Christmas cards from friends I haven't heard from in a while), Catherine's package made me cry. I felt so loved and cherished.

Oh, and I colored for the first time in years! Perhaps, dearest Catchka, I will send you some of my masterpieces. It was an amazing way to transition from work to my after dinner plans.

Later, I went out with a friend from whom I have been somewhat estranged. Sara (no "h") and I went Christmas shopping, and then had cocoa at Barnes & Noble. I had a very pleasant time. Now that I have an "honesty, regardless" policy with her things are much less stressful for me.

Here's what I'm happy about today:

Croissants
Spearmint Altoids
Christmas cards
Coffee (did you really think it wouldn't be on this list?)
Catherine (almost everything on this list starts with a "c")
Carly Simon's song "Coming Around Again" ("I know nothing stays the same, but if you're willing to play the game, it will be comin' around again....")

I don't have much to say today, but here's a little something:




Which 1990's Subculture Do You Belong To?

[Another Quiz by Kris
@ couplandesque.net]

I bought a few Christmas presents yesterday. Sarah and I hung out in the suburbs, hitting Barnes & Noble, Pier One, Starbucks (gift card purchase), and Seattle's Best for a sitdown coffee break. It was pretty uneventful, save for the fact that Gordon's friend Greg checked me out at B&N.

I didn't know he worked for that company at all, let alone at the one in Sarah's neighborhood. He asked if I'd seen Gordon lately, and of course all of us here know the answer to that. I noticed that even seeing a friend of Gordon's made me nervous and kind of giddy--such is the minimal contact I've had with him lately, so poignant is my missing him, that even seeing someone I am usually disappointed to see, reminded me of him.

I really have to be my own first priority right now. This time away from the one my soul loves is a gift (though a hard one to bear sometimes). It's the gift of time to get my affairs in order before I add another soul to my life the way I want to add him to my life. It did provide a bit of comfort to me knowing that Greg will undoubtedly mention this to Gordon, and in so doing, will convey a sliver of my heart to him.

Selma Blair and Ahmet Zappa moved out (the movie wrapped, no doubt) the better part of three weeks ago. I find that some truly crusty looking people have replaced them, and so far all they do is smoke cigarettes and drink milk.

A kind soul brought in hostess doughnuts this morning so I can have a little sustenance. As I get older I am much more inclined to want to eat breakfast, but I am so lazy in the morning that I can never make myself do anything about it.

I am working on a letter to my precious Devika; I feel that it will be an especially good one!

I had a dream last night that I was walking along a highway median with my boss and some other men, who do not exist in actuality. My boss and I were holding hands. At one point we walked past Gordon's parked car, and he jumped out immediately, jealous of the intimacy between me and my boss. As soon as I saw his reaction, I let go of my boss's hand, and Gordon and I started walking with our arms around each other's waist. He told me I looked heavier and the men who do not exist in reality laughed heartily. I think it was a joke, but it took me aback, so I hit him good-naturedly in the chest for saying it.

Kosher "Christmas" Chocolate

I have a little spruce green stocking hanging at the entrance of my cubicle. It's tiny. Next to it, I placed a shocking pink post-it note that reads "for Cash$ and miniature chocolate!" One of my collegues, an orthodox Jewish woman, placed a small bar of "Nutty Chews" (kosher chocolate treat!) inside. One of my other colleagues put in two pennies as a good-natured joke.

Speaking of work, I'm feeling pretty negative about it these days. It seems that all I do is fire people, or let them go due to budget cuts. Applying to grad school has never seemed so imperative. I've watched a trend evolve in my life. I typically work at place for about 7 months before I start hoping that the company folds. I think life is trying to tell me something.

City Sidewalks, Busy Sidewalks

So I read earlier this month that some lady got trampled at Wal-Mart when the 6 a.m. shopping bell went off. DVD players were going for 29.99, and people, as usual, lost their minds. It’s not quite the same, but a man who may or may not have been visually impaired nearly walked right into me at 7-11 the other day, and when I moved out of his way, and apologized, he cursed me out with an anger so deep-seated, it could only be described as demonic. I wasn’t angry, just dumbfounded by his rage.

And Above All This Bustle You Hear

Gray, slow moving, cotton ball clouds herald the coming of nightfall. I said yes to Sarah’s spontaneous invitation to stay over at her place to night. She’s going to make tetrazzini and wanted to share. Besides, It’s nice to know I don’t have to ride the bus tonight with the riff-raff (or pay to ride with riff-raff).

Hear the Snow Crunch, See the Kids Bunch

Pathways are less icy today, but I think more white stuff is imminent. I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas, okay? This morning, while watching snippets of religious programming, I began to think about Gordon, and my longing for him bloomed torturously in my chest. I miss his face, his hands, the lines of him… but I also know he’s off doing what he needs to do. I can’t explain it, but I know this time of almost no activity in our friendship is crucial in order for us to become more.

Taking My Inspiration from Devika Keral

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME
1 – painful or excessively gruesome death
2 - lack of control (in general)
3 – violent, angry people
THREE THINGS I DON'T UNDERSTAND
1 – people (myself included) who repeat the same behavior and expect a different result
2 - atheism
3 – the inherent contradictions in some political paradigms
THREE THINGS I'D LIKE TO LEARN
1 – How to drive
2 – How to sew
3 – How to make a roux without it going wrong
THREE THINGS I AM WEARING RIGHT NOW
1 –Grey sweater
2 – White turtleneck
3 – LL Bean Goretex Boots
THREE THINGS ON MY DESK
1 – Boylan Black Cherry Bottles
2 – Stack of editing (music lessons)
3 – My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers
THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
1 – Get Married
2 – Publish at least one excellent volume of poetry
3 – Live in a brownstone
THREE WAYS TO DESCRIBE MY PERSONALITY
1 - generous
2 - intentional
3 - industrious
THREE BAD THINGS ABOUT MY PERSONALITY
1 - avoidant
2 – logical at the expense of others’ feelings
3 - suspicious
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE
1 - Black
2 - Chinese
3 – Native American
THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY BODY
1 – It’s soft
2 - my lips
3 – It’s curvy
THREE THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY BODY
1 – I am overweight
2 – It’s not lithe
3 – My skin gets very dry very easily/my feet
THREE THINGS MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU
1 – I can be very cruel
2 – I hold grudges
3 – Part of me still really thinks cigarettes are sexy
THREE THINGS I SAY THE MOST
1 – Good Lord!
2 – “Is there any coffee?”
3 – Idiot!
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO
1 - Paris
2 - London
3 - Seattle
THREE NAMES THAT YOU GO BY
1 -Puppa
2 – Muffin-face
3 - Kate
SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE OR HAD
1 – Kate Krupnik

This too, is dead on...


You are an impulsive and fun loving person. You
buy gifts for the shear joy of giving. People
often remark to you how very perfect your gifts
are for their recipiants. You take much pride
in pleasing people.


What Kind of Christmas Shopper Are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I can get behind this result...


Massachusetts is your state. It's crowded in some
places but quiet in others. So you can
actually live in peace and still be close to a
big city.


What State Is Perfect For You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Sundried Tomatoes

I made my mother and Jim a birthday supper (My mother's birthday was last week; Jim's is tomorrow) of Sundried Tomato Chicken and Pesto Linguini with Tomato Basil and Parmesan bread. We had ice cream and coffee for dessert. It was a pleasant time actually. I never know how these things are going to go.

I'm psyched because we nailed down plans for Christmas day, which will be happening at my place. My mom and I need to hammer out a lot of the menu, but I did get her to agree to Crown Roast and Cornish Game Hens as the meat centerpieces, which she will contribute to the supper. I will take care of sides, liquor, and appetizers, which I think is fair. We'll cook everything here together.

So, it will be me, my two sisters, my mom, Jim, and my sister's boyfriend. I envision a long, leisurely day of movies, drinks, anecdotes, and having the warmth of the holiday in my space. So I won't have to wake up on Christmas morning alone, my youngest sister will stay over with me on Christmas eve (if she wants to--I haven't asked her yet).

One more week till I apply to grad school and for a new apartment, but the next step is navigating treacherous ice paths to get to work tomorrow. One day at a time.

Snow Caked

Digging out Bina's car today, I realized something. You've got to clear a path if you want to get out of a rut.

I've asked my family to consider doing Christmas at my apartment in Baltimore this year. I would love to host it at my place to create a lasting memory of my time in that apartment, to commemorate it being just mine, before I leave it behind. Also, practically speaking, I'm the one without transportation, so it makes sense that the folks with the cars should come to me. My mother is the hold out. She is basing whether or not this is workable on Jim, and what he feels like doing.

I know for a fact that one recommendation letter is on its way to me in the post. Soon, I'll be sending in applications to a university and to a leasing company. It strikes me now that this is all (getting into school/moving) a very delicate operation, the success of which is predicated upon immaculate timing.

But I don't believe in chance. I believe in faith-based choices, and a sovereign God who holds all my days in His hands.

Today's happy news: Math lessons for every grade have been edited and finalized. I'm on my way with this deadline business. Oh, and the vacation day I requested (Dec. 19th) is being given to me as a comp day.

Advent 1

(“I always prayed that Santa would pack love on his sleigh and send it my way.” From NSYNC’s “In Love on Christmas”)

So, I’m in the process of psyching myself up for a fun December with Sarah. We got out the legal pads this morning (shooting the crap over stacks of editing to be done) and wrote down plans to watch all our favourite movies, the date we’re going shopping, to r.s.v.p. to the office holiday party (which I was boycotting at first—long story), etc.

So I’m debating whether or not to get my hair done for the holidays. If I do it will cut into the already limited shopping fund, but then again, I’ve been able to do so little for myself lately—unless you count paying down my debt, which is not a treat, per se, but is definitely for my benefit.

I filled out the application for the apartments I want to move to in the spring. I can’t mail it to them for a couple of weeks (need application fee money), but it feels good to be placing these little irons in the fire.

I am giving my youngest sister Caryl a composite gift of helpful things for college. It’s the first semester survival kit. So exciting.

An unexpected gem came my way today. My former boss called me just because I had been on her mind.

Cake Toppers

On a brief mission with Sarah yesterday that had nothing to do with weddings, we found ourselves in a wedding paraphenalia and cake store (she was looking for a specific kind of cake pan). I saw that interracial cake toppers are now manufactured as a matter of course. Not every possible combination of interracial coupling, which would be difficult to do, since any number of possibilities exist. But, the gesture of having black man/white woman and white man/black woman cake toppers heartened me.

For all I know this has been the case for years, but when I was a child, I can tell you that they did not make them at all. The assumption was "like with like," and something in my little girl's heart always broke a little over that. I didn't see what I knew my wedding was going to look like in those cheap, kitschy, plastic, same-raced figures. I also felt that it was negating the validity of love, in general, outside the boundary of race. I didn't know why I was upset (not totally) at the time, but when I saw that a correction had been made, it made something a little more right for me, as far as the world is concerned.

I probably wouldn't even do a cake topper in the fashion of the plastic people figurines, but still, now I know I could.