Boo hoo, like some kind of Scrooge.

Saturday, December 13th, 2008

Yay, my Welcome Wagon CD finally came!  Right when I sent an aggitated email to the distributers, of course.  Also, I added a button to subscribe to my feedburner… so subscribe!  You’ll find it in the right sidebar, just under the photo of me looking so skeleton-cool.

Gwen loaned me an American Elf book and now I have the renewed urge to draw a daily comic strip, buuuuut I still don’t have the time.  Gotta focus, Bea.

I’m cold all the time.  Even the womb has been disappointing me lately.

I have not been in the Christmas spirit.  I decided early on this time around to reject the commercial aspect of the “season”, and my plan was to focus more on the holidays of my preference (Advent and then Christmas).  So I rejected the commercial, but somehow all the stuff that is meaningful to me has kind of slipped out of my sight also.  Which leaves me with nothing, except winter and this constant feeling of cold.  How depressing!  Tomorrow morning, though, Christ Presbyterian is going to be performing Handel’s Messiah so I am really really hoping that gets me in the mood.  Who knows… maybe we need some of the commercial stuff to keep Christmas real.  As much as I hate it, maybe I need to fight the crowds at the mall and choke on the B.O. of some ragtag Santa Claus to realize that there really is something about this time that is different from the rest of the year.

Or maybe there really isn’t.  We don’t know when Jesus was actually born, right?  Maybe there is no real point to celebrating any of this.  I have this fantasy of celebrating New Years by going to bed at 9pm on December 31 and waking up the next year, no party, no ball dropping, no midnight kiss (which I never get anyway!)  Maybe that’s how I should celebrate Christmas too, just ignore it.  I’m just so bored by all of the tradition.

What’s wrong with me this year?  I’m in some kind of holiday funk.

Grown up thumbs and hot gums.

Thursday, November 13th, 2008

You would be proud of me. I did it. I ate sushi. Of course it was the vegetarian kind (yeah right, like I would ever put raw fish in my mouth!) It comes as part of a series of growing-up moments for me, or maybe I should call them horizon-expanding moments. Earlier in the day I learned about CSS code, enough that my head was exhausted by the late afternoon. Every 26 days or so I wear makeup. I sometimes get a radical hair cut. I have set a schedule to water my houseplants. I regularly exercise willpower to prevent myself from getting a kitten. I drink coffee now. Sometimes. The other day I thought I had a gray hair but I was mistaken. It will come, though. It will come.

sushi face

sushi face

Also, I have to confess something. Remember my bedroom, and how I love that it’s the hottest room in the house? Well, sometimes it is actually too hot. Sometimes I think it might be near 100 degrees. I wake up sweating, the covers long since cast to the floor. I wake up and touch my dry tongue to my dry lips and think, “Am I awake or dreaming this?” Sometimes I hear men yelling violently from outside my window, and my coworkers suggested that possibly this is really only a feverish delusion caused by the heat. In the morning when I open my bedroom door I’m met with a burst of cool air like the kind in those gum commercials. My entire life is a gum commercial. A hot one.

Get hot!

Tuesday, October 28th, 2008

Alright, let’s put our heads together and think of some good things about winter.  The first one is pretty obvious: we love how hot my bedroom gets in the winter.  The womb.  The incubator.  As I recently told my friend Emily, when I wake up in the morning in my 90+ degree hotbox, I feel like I’ve just been born.  Or like I’m just about to be.  Think of the philosophical and spiritual implications: every day is a new life!  And dang I just love it toasty.

Second, we get to wear warm clothes like sweaters and scarves and such.  Women, put away your razors, for the next six months no one cares how wooly your legs are.  Or if they care, they won’t see, anyway.  I might even go out and invest in some long underwear this year.  I am going to go overboard with the winter clothing.  I just am, okay? Blustry days… 

I suppose there are other nice things about winter, which don’t reflect my bias toward heat in some form.  There are those aesthetics like seeing your breath in cloud-form, ice covered branches, blah-di-blah and so forth.  It’s just not my season.  I’m trying to stay positive.  I made the most wonderful Elliott Smith mix yesterday, though, which doesn’t exactly help positivity.  But if there isn’t a more perfect time of year to listen to it, then I’ll be a munckey’s ankle.  Alright.  I write this same post every year at this time.  Let’s put our heads together, though, really.  If only for the body heat.

“We battled the wintry winds.  We put on our thickest skins.” Nedelle.

Waxing and waning, and generally waiting.

Monday, February 11th, 2008

I must have gotten into a pretty comfortable routine, because I never seem to have much to write about anymore. Just now I almost wrote an entire post about how much I love my bathroom, because it is 100 degrees at any given time (but maybe you knew that already?). Maybe what this tells me is that I ought to be working on my supposed novel, or turning out a few short stories, or at the very least spending some time writing a poem or two. Poems are the easy ones, right? Take a look it’s in a book, you little crook.

Poems aren’t that easy, I guess. I manage to write about two or three poems a year, and I’d say they take a lot more work than my average blog post. Or maybe that’s not true. I wrote my best (or at least my personal favorite) about a year ago, maybe you read it in that old blog of mine:

There is a woman who listens and a woman who speaks.
Seldom do these two women meet.
Seldom they sever; their discourse is never
too clever
if ever they discourse at all.

This source of life has no remorse for strife inflicted by the fall.
We are all, each one of us, a knife plunged deeply in the wherewithal.

Celeste! Celeste! This is your quest, can you find meaning in it all?

I like to go back and reread some of my old blogs, as I’m sure most bloggers would admit to, and usually I like to go back and check where I was a year ago today. It’s a little bit harder for me to do that at this point, because a year ago these days I was so hopeful, so giddy and falling. The small quantity of writings from this time period last year attest to that, how absorbed I was becoming in something new, something nice. It’s difficult to read the words of someone who has no idea how much things will change. My how cryptic I can be when the mood strikes me! This has little to do with the approaching Valentine’s Day, I swear.

Oh, it’s Superficial Monday, isn’t it? (I always forget about Superficial Monday.) Well, here, I am thinking about cutting my hair. It is almost that time. Tufts of silken hair, wafting gently to the tile floor, collecting ’round two pairs of ankles, shorn, but never scorned.

Good grief. I can really miss you.