December 24, 2008
On the train to Verona, NJ , using my spectacular new acer mini-lap top courtesy of Colin, so I can “Write a great novel and buy that summer home we’ve always wanted." Right. First let me try to keep a steady blog; it’s been nearly a month. Not without ample excuse though. First, the infamous paper, which has finally been turned in as The Stage as a Moral Mirror: Examining the Split Identities of Actresses in the British Romantic Period. Second, work dissatisfaction. Third, oddness and blues from the impending departure of Colin over the holidays. All which have lead me to the fourth--excessive alcohol. Not that it's necessarily been all bad. On the contrary, it's been quite fun--my barfly nights that is--but nothing kills my creative drive more than a hangover.
I just did mostly all of my Christmas shopping in a matter of 2 hours. I’m now sitting in a state of dried sweat, exhaustion, sore feet and hunger. Oh, and guilt. It’s amazing how I can wipe out my entire checking account in a matter of two hours. I prided myself for not getting caught up in the Christmas hype thinking that somehow I was immune to it this year, but I merely delayed the inevitable, which ended with the dreaded “insufficient funds” notification while trying to abstract more money from the bank. It caused temporary panic. Who just broke into my checking account and started spending my money? Until I realized, yeah, I just broke into my checking and spent all of my money.
The train is running late, of course, and by the time I get to my aunt’s I’m sure it will be nearly 8 o’clock. Not so bad though, it’s usually a late night and my dad picked up my Nut Brown ale at the liquor store which I’ll most definitely drink on arrival to slip into a more festive mood. (He may call me a barfly, but is still willing to enable.) It’s raining and pretty warm, compared to our recent artic influx. You can’t see your breath though, that bothers me.
I got myself a discounted velvet plum dress today with a pink crushed velvet scarf. I thought I would dress up a bit, like I used to in the days when my cousin Suzy and I would be uncomfortable in our tights and our red-velvet dresses. I'll take myself back a bit to when Christmas Eve was the absolute best night of the year. The excitement from the carols that came on the radio on the way to my Grandma Sue’s apartment ,where our entire extended family would pack in, two tables in the kitchen and dining area, one long table down the center of the living room. The lasagna. Oh, the lasagna, the only food item sans the seafood. All of my brothers and sisters. All at the "kids'" table. No one was married yet. Suzy and I would play in the spare bedroom full of old clothing and knicknacks, hide in the clothesracks of the deep closet, wind up all the music boxes that sat dusty on the shelf. (There is an obsession with music boxes on my mom’s side of the family, as there is with stuffed animals that talk and sing. )
So, things are different now, obviously, but particularly this year. I was too stressed, too caught up in non-family things for the anticipation to buildup more than mildly. I wonder what will tonight bring. The caroling, that’s what I always look forward to.
On the train to Verona, NJ , using my spectacular new acer mini-lap top courtesy of Colin, so I can “Write a great novel and buy that summer home we’ve always wanted." Right. First let me try to keep a steady blog; it’s been nearly a month. Not without ample excuse though. First, the infamous paper, which has finally been turned in as The Stage as a Moral Mirror: Examining the Split Identities of Actresses in the British Romantic Period. Second, work dissatisfaction. Third, oddness and blues from the impending departure of Colin over the holidays. All which have lead me to the fourth--excessive alcohol. Not that it's necessarily been all bad. On the contrary, it's been quite fun--my barfly nights that is--but nothing kills my creative drive more than a hangover.
I just did mostly all of my Christmas shopping in a matter of 2 hours. I’m now sitting in a state of dried sweat, exhaustion, sore feet and hunger. Oh, and guilt. It’s amazing how I can wipe out my entire checking account in a matter of two hours. I prided myself for not getting caught up in the Christmas hype thinking that somehow I was immune to it this year, but I merely delayed the inevitable, which ended with the dreaded “insufficient funds” notification while trying to abstract more money from the bank. It caused temporary panic. Who just broke into my checking account and started spending my money? Until I realized, yeah, I just broke into my checking and spent all of my money.
The train is running late, of course, and by the time I get to my aunt’s I’m sure it will be nearly 8 o’clock. Not so bad though, it’s usually a late night and my dad picked up my Nut Brown ale at the liquor store which I’ll most definitely drink on arrival to slip into a more festive mood. (He may call me a barfly, but is still willing to enable.) It’s raining and pretty warm, compared to our recent artic influx. You can’t see your breath though, that bothers me.
I got myself a discounted velvet plum dress today with a pink crushed velvet scarf. I thought I would dress up a bit, like I used to in the days when my cousin Suzy and I would be uncomfortable in our tights and our red-velvet dresses. I'll take myself back a bit to when Christmas Eve was the absolute best night of the year. The excitement from the carols that came on the radio on the way to my Grandma Sue’s apartment ,where our entire extended family would pack in, two tables in the kitchen and dining area, one long table down the center of the living room. The lasagna. Oh, the lasagna, the only food item sans the seafood. All of my brothers and sisters. All at the "kids'" table. No one was married yet. Suzy and I would play in the spare bedroom full of old clothing and knicknacks, hide in the clothesracks of the deep closet, wind up all the music boxes that sat dusty on the shelf. (There is an obsession with music boxes on my mom’s side of the family, as there is with stuffed animals that talk and sing. )
So, things are different now, obviously, but particularly this year. I was too stressed, too caught up in non-family things for the anticipation to buildup more than mildly. I wonder what will tonight bring. The caroling, that’s what I always look forward to.
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