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November 2012
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December 2012

A (Very Short) Christmas Story

RudolphMy sister and I were chatting online this morning when she reminded me of a story my mom told us. Apparently when I was very little, just before Christmas, we were either listening to or potentially singing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," when at the end, I suddenly burst into tears, sobbing hysterically.

My mother asked, "What is wrong?"

Through chokes and a wet face I said, "I-I...I don't want Ruldolph to go down in his-tor-y."

I had no idea what history was, but in my little kid head, his-tor-y was something akin to Hell.

A Prayer

“Don’t be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.”

-George Saunders, (The Braindead Megaphone)

She Needs It, We Both Do

Button-nosed pixie with perfecto cheeks. Could nap all day on cheeks like those. The kind of girl who wore stud earrings in the early nineties. Extremely tiny ears. Frowning and alone. 
I want to find her--figure out where this pinball bar is, exactly, in New York City, and ring up the bartender and ask him about the girl with the cheeks, and he'll stall at first, reluctant, but I'll sweet talk him into telling me her name, and then I'll book a flight to New York City and go to the pinball bar and wait for her there--and hug her.

Fond Childhood Memory

I had a tire swing when I was a kid that my daddy put up in the giant oak tree in front of our house. When it rained, the little ditch below it became a glistening creek, and you could swing out over it like a fairy or a bird, watching your feet pierce the canvas of the sky.

When I went back a decade later to show a boyfriend where I grew up I saw that whoever lived there then cut down that giant oak tree. Whoever lives there now does not have a tire swing, I suspect.

Favorite Moments of the Day So Far

  • Being greeted by the man who sells apples and packages of chips with the most earnest "good morning" imaginable.  He wishes passersby good morning like it is his job--a job he loves and has wanted his whole life.
  • Woken by a kiss from a cat, who managed not to knock off my water glass from the bedside table in the night.
  • Lunch.
  • Listening to the ladies in the office (including me) turn down walnut fudge only to have another colleauge yell, "BRING THAT SHIT OVER HERE."
  • My boss asking, "Could we get a sighting of a UFO going over the fiscal cliff?" [I have no idea.]
  • When ordering a "skinny vanilla latte without a lot of syrup," the Starbucks barista responded, "No worries. I'm a two pump chump."

Meditating, You Are Hard

Meditated today for the first time in ages. Just a five minute block. And boy, is my thinking rapid and fractured this morning. Focusing on my breath was like trying to catch a firefly with only a bare hand.

Practice makes calm, they say. Practicing stillness brings insight. Deep, daily practice on the horizon, girl.