Happiness New Year

The seconds are ticking off until it's 2009. Without question, this year has been one of the most difficult of my life...and I thought 2007 was bad. The truth is, this was undoubtedly a terrible year in so many ways. But in other ways - friends made, acquaintances renewed, steps taken forward in this new life - it was a successful year.

And while it's impossible for me to forget Ronnie's death and how it changed everything about our family, my life, and my perspective, I must also remember that life goes on. The days continue to pass, and though I will continue to keep his memory, it would be an insult for me to let that keep me from living.

So...here's to a review of 2008, a year of losses and gains, of grief and gratitude, of seriousness and snark. I will be ringing in the new year with faith, hope and love...those things that I've learned are essential under any circumstances. Happy New Year, my dears.


January: Measuring Up: In Praise of Junk in the Trunk


February: Devastate, In All Its Forms


March: Just the Five of Us: The Shape of a Family and The New Theory of Relativity




April: This is a List


May: Weeds


June: Father's Day






July: Ghosts of Trees


August: Gratitude: A Letter to the Universe





September: Meet the Parents (or My Not-So-Great Evil Plan)





October: Tumbled Thoughts from the Shoreline


November: Gratitude: Part V - Love (and more gratitude)


December: Let It Snow

My Little Drummer Boy

Let It Snow

It's Christmas Eve.

I am dreaming of a white Christmas. I am wishing for a dense white snow to blanket my heart in a winter wonderland where I can stay only just alive enough to get through the next two days. I am wishing for it to blizzard my mind with tidings of comfort and joy, erasing the flurry of thoughts and emotions about Christmas past and present scattered there. I am wishing for it to flutter down into my stomach and cool the slow burn of an open fire that's building there. I am wishing for it to muffle the sounds of Christmas wishes and carols and leave me in a quiet, silent night instead. I am wishing for it to surround me in clean white nothingness until I can stand to see upon a midnight clear, the world as it really is. Baby, it's cold outside.

I am wishing for you - wherever you are, dear readers - a holiday of peacefulness and love. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Hold close to the ones who matter most to you. Cherish them. Amid the gales of laughter and the wonder and excitement, steal a moment to save forever the best of what's around you. Enjoy your gifts. Celebrate The Gift.

Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men...and let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

How Now Brown Wow?

Cashthrax: A Metalgrass Band

I don't confess to be musical in any sort of way other than liking to listen to it. But I do know a little bit about bluegrass - how it generally sounds, the kind of instruments that are involved, the harmonies. Enough to know that the show I went to Friday night featured a band that was decidedly not bluegrass.

While we were subjected to the sounds of The Unknown Band, I made a few observations, puzzled together this mysterious musical performance and came up with this: the band came together with two sets of brothers - one in each pair devoted to classic bluegrass and their counterparts equally passionate about heavy metal. But rather than be brothers divided, they decided to meld their incongruous loves into a band of heretofore unknown composition: the metalgrass band.

The metalheads brought their pounding drums and their electric guitar riffs and the grassroots brought their upright bass and their banjo and then they found the missing ingredient: the pretty-boy frontman who could hunch over a mandolin but never quite make noise with it. And this motley crew became Cashthrax, an absolute abomination to both ends of the spectrum.

And poor Jason and me were stuck...for thirty minutes, listening to them bang and wail in a fashion that was a glaring insult to all things bluegrass and a wad of spit in the eye to all things metal. But they labored on, picking and plucking in their cowboy boots and their Converse and their long Amish beards and sang something that was neither identifiable nor enjoyable.

And then the headliner appeared with the proper instruments and harmonies and vocals and sounds and words. The world improved greatly for a brief moment...and then tilted on its axis in a haze of white-boy pain and mid-life clogging. A cluster of frat-boy redneck types moved into the middle of the open floor - one wearing a camoflauge cap, another a Member's Only jacket - and began what can only be characterized as a rhythmless white-boy shuffle. They were soon joined by a 40ish or so woman in a dress so ugly, it pained me. No. Seriously. This dress - this boxy black and camel dress - hurt me. And it hurt me even more when I noticed her hair was held in place by a small pink terrycloth scrunchie. She took to the floor in her thick suntan-colored pantyhose (shoes kicked to the side) and clogged the dickens out of that concrete floor. And when she wasn't clogging, she was to the side with her decidedly more stylish friend (although Jason insisted she didn't score that many extra points) who seemed to be the girlfriend of a hip Atown townie who was so stoic and immobile, I would've thought him dead. But it was his friend - the sometimes sax player (?) - who was the attraction for the clogger. And while stylish friend (whose name I decided was Willow) tried to motivate her catatonic beau to move things along, the sax player and the clogger had intermittent awkward conversations leaned across the impassive zombie while Willow stroked his neck. And on top of that, we were fascinated by the incredibly bad date that was happening stage left, cringing at the body language and counting the guy's trips to the bar for another beer. Drink til she's cute!

All that said, the band was rather enjoyable. That is until they descended from the stage into the mob of mutants and continued playing and the mutants started shouting incomprehensibly. That's I turned to Jason and said, "Let's go now." And we walked out into the cold and hoped that whatever fissure had opened up in the universe behind us had closed - and hopefully taken that hideous dress with it.

Bah Humbug: I'm scrooged about...

...the Ferrero Roche holiday commercial. I want to deck them...

...the Secret Santa festivities at work. Like, I don't know what to get my family, much less my coworkers...

...my dad's sister who called last night and told Mom that they "could be here" on the 23rd and planned to spend 4 or 5 days. They have never spent Christmas with us - in fact, I'd wager I haven't seen them since my college graduation - and of all years to inflict themselves upon us...

...the return of The Panic, which is undoubtedly induced by the whole Christmas season (to quote my emotional counterpart, The Grinch), but whatever the reason, I've found myself fighting the gag reflex, hiding in the ladies' room, deep breathing, and holding my breath altogether...

...my inability to buy one single solitary Christmas present. Really. Not one...

...the fam's unwillingness to commit to a time frame on our family Christmas celebration, which is usually the weekend after Christmas but we're trying to consolidate and avoid prolonging the agony...

...me, being so grumpy, so overly sensitive, so reactive to every yuletide good wish with a mental, 'oh bugger off' and feeling like I'm wearing a sour grinchy frown and blaming everything on work and fatigue...

Face it, I'm totally scrooged.

Simply Irresistible

In case you missed it on Facebook, here's the first meme I've seen in a long time that was worth doing. Check out Kim Shable's blog to see from whence I ripped the original.

RULES:
A. Put your music player on shuffle.
B. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
C. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
D. Tag 10 friends who might enjoy doing the game as well as the person you got the game from.

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
"Jenny was a Friend of Mine" by The Killers

2. WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
"Full of Grace" by Sarah McLachlan (oh, that seems a little lofty)

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
"White Flag" by Dido

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
"Sundays" by Counting Crows

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
"Belief" by Gavin DeGraw

6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
"Lovestoned" by Justin Timberlake

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
"Joking" by Indigo Girls (that's probably pretty true!)

8.WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
"Moondance" by Van Morrison

9. WHAT IS 2 + 2?
"Grace is Gone" by Dave Matthews Band

10 WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
"Wheel" by John Mayer (???)

11.WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
"The Light" by David Gray

12. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
"Going Back to Georgia" by Nanci Griffith (I swear! That's what came up!)

13. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
"Fantine's Arrest" from Les Miserables (perhaps not!)

14. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
"Push" by Sarah McLachlan

15. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
"Thank You" by Dido

16. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
"Cheers Darlin'" by Damien Rice

17 What will they play at your funeral?
"The Scientist" by Coldplay (I might cry now...)

18. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
"Lullaby" by Dixie Chics

19. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
"Delicate" by Damien Rice

20. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
"Hospital Food" by David Gray (Sorry, y'all)

21. WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
"Beautiful Day" by U2

22. HOW WILL YOU DIE?
"Songbird" by Eva Cassidy (Note to self: do not watch The Birds)

23. WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
"It's All Over" by David Gray

24. WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
"Green" by Brendan James

25. WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
"Raspberry Swirl" by Tori Amos

26. WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
"Vultures" by John Mayer (YIPE!)

27. DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
"Hanging on Too Long" by Duffy (Is that a no?)

28. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
"Dramamine" by Sun Kil Moon

29. WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
" ou Can Bring Me Flowers" by Ray LaMontagne

30. WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
"Simply Irresistible" by Robert Palmer

Modes of Transportation

I find myself lacking in substance right now. I feel compelled to write, to post thoughts, but I'm not clear on the thoughts. They are ephemeral and indistinct. Life seems to both be moving in slow motion and warp speed.

The holidays are coming...a lumbering freighter, moving lethargically toward me. It is impossible not to see it; but its girth, its potential impact, is impossible to comprehend and so I watch it inching ever closer with all its threatening weight and isolate myself from it. Even as I see the waters shift and rise, I hold my breath, and dismiss the fractional disturbance.

On the other hand, the life that goes on, that moves ever faster away from death, is a speeding train with only flashes of countryside visible out its small square windows. The colors and shapes are blinding; on the inside, faces crowd around me, no more than blurs. And this, unlike the freighter, I'm trying to absorb. I'm trying to find a place in my mind for these faces, for the names that go with them. I'm trying to make room in my mind for this part of life. But it's all moving so fast and I can't hold on. I can't focus and so I'm floating in that sea of undecipherable features. I want so much for these passengers on the train to stay, to have meaning.

And the train speeds on, and the ship pitches toward me. And I am but a wisp of smoke caught between the two.

A Gem of a Break-Up Song

Whether or not you like the All-American Rejects, you have to give them credit for their new single "Gives You Hell." It's a really fabulous break-up anthem. The kind you should listen to with the windows down, possibly driving a little too fast and screaming the words at the top of your lungs. Please enjoy.

Confession

In my eagerness to have the house to myself, I just effectively "hustled" my parents out the door.

One Little Blackbird

Stumbling through the past couple of weeks of work, travel and holiday, I've gotten to that place where life is simply too crowded. Too crowded with commitments, demands, appointments. Too crowded with people and places and working hard to keep up appearances. Too crowded with smiles I don't really feel and thoughts that bounce around my brain and never settle. Too crowded to sleep. So crowded that there hardly seems room for me anymore.

Dad's company is having its holiday party in Atlanta this weekend, and so he and Mom are heading up to Anna's on Saturday morning and will attend the party from there. This is the first time that I've had the feeling that I could not go. I could stay. I could give myself a break. I could experience complete and utter silence.

And inside, a war between could and should started raging. Anna's having a hard time, and I feel like I should go be with her. I should be there for her...not to fix it, but just to try my best to absorb some of her misery (as though it could ease her burden).

But instead, I'm going to let could defeat should this time around. Because I realized that my could was actually connected to a should -I should pay attention to what I need. In the interest of self-preservation and in light of what the next few weeks will bring, I must stop. I must take time to be just one. Just me. To take a deep breathe and reach around all of the thoughts, gather them up and push them into a corner of my mind and fill the empty space with sweet, sweet silence.

Go Ahead and Laugh

* On Saturday evening, as we drove down the highway in the cold rain, discussing how hard the holidays were on Anna, my mother withdrew a "finger pistol" from her pocket and fired at each of the lighted angels hung on the streetlamps.

* The Professor is now my friend on Facebook, but his acceptance of my friend request was preceded by an e-mail explaining why his relationship status is set to "In a Relationship" with The Ex.

* I have developed a crush on the FreeCreditReport.com dude.

* The Dirty Film Boys continued their stare tactics until the ladies in our office revolted and created a sign to wear on our backs that said, "I can see you looking at me in the reflection, genius." But The Boss interceded and let the Dirty Film Boys know they were creeping us out - to which they apologized and noted, "They're the best things to look at up here."

* I am seriously disappointed that I missed the Britney documentary and even consulted MTV.com to find out when it will be online.