spirit.

most people like to believe that their family christmas celebrations are somewhat like the movies, either sitting together with matching sweaters, cherubic faces lit by the fire, or enduring the onslaught of chaos and hilarity that only family and loved ones (and a lot of food and drink) can bring. each year, i try to hold off the nostalgia as long as i can, because once it hits, there is no looking back. i am immediately immersed and overwhelmed by my childhood memories of the holiday. setting the scene: i was the oldest grandchild, and for a short while, the only kid, until my pixie sister arrived (sweet, but deadly). combine this with a large immigrant family, which includes not only various immediate family members, but members of the larger "familial" community. add a large helping of ethnic tradition, the happiness of those reuniting multiplied various times, plus the warmth and comfort of being back in your original home, and you get a kind of mystical atmosphere.

though my whole family have always been gypsy travellers, christmas, not thanksgiving, was the one time to gather and share. i have fond recollections of young aunts and uncles, dressed in shoulder pads and leather jackets, freshly splashed with cologne and perfume, running out of the airplane and embracing us all. in fact, i bet not many people can boast whole days spent at the airport, shuttling various family members coming in from various destinations, hours apart. those traditions are hard to recreate now that we are even more scattered and families have grown and grown up. but, for the first time in a long time, i am going "home" for christmas, and most everyone plans to gather there with me. it will be the first christmas that my sister has lived back in mn, and sweet sweet relatives from overseas will be in as well. this year it is my turn to be the fresh faced young aunt, coming into town with bright plans and a handsome new man. complete the picture with life-sized puppy dog and you are set and ready to go.


What I am already looking forward to. In no particular order:
1)Christmas cards with D. Two lists this year, oy vey. (Maij says that she and No plan to recreate the Sears portrait studio. Looking forward to it).
2)Visiting friends I haven't seen in ages and who now, suddenly have turned into adults, have babies and own homes.
3)Listening to holiday themed music within the appropriate time period after Thanksgiving and before the holidays.
4)No work for two whole weeks.
5)The random squealing of various friends and loved ones during phone conversations as the date nears.
6)Alfred and Linus, a very astute and balanced pair, reunited.
7)Reinventing the Cities as an adult, with an adult sibling knowledgable of all the right places to go and do. Including but not limited to: taking a tour of local breweries to watch the magic of beer bond m and d; local music, live, and record stores galore; the 331; half price books; french and modern american eateries. Derek, the more suggestions, the better. Feel free to comment.
8)Shopping. From new (Forever 21) to used (Savers and Ragstock). A to Z.
9)Scheme over potential gifts to those I love.
10)Introduce a man who grew up in a land with no winter to ice and snow, cheese curds and bratwurst, sledding and snowshoeing, and all of the wonders of crawling back into the warm wonderful space in the crook of each others arms.

these days.

today i feel a little like margot tennenbaum: wordy, dark, and beautiful.

cold and ice covered the roads this morning. a bit treacherous, if it were not for the hot coffee keeping me company. nico sang in a low hum while i shifted in the seat, attempting to avoid the certain literal shock my tights were trying to produce against the fabric. sitting there moving through the snow and damp, my heart began to beat in rhythm to its surroundings.
more than once in our lives we look back and assess everything that has come forth thus far and attempt to act wisely about what is to come. we are always facing the unknown, but rarely, if ever, do we truly look at it, the unknown, as its own entity. and probably for the better, since the unknown is rarely anything but terrifying. but terror is not too far from the feeling of exhilaration and therefore we hurdle ourselves in no uncertain manner towards that which we do not know.
i try not to hurdle too quickly too often even though it is in my aquarian nature. i tell myself that i have the capacity to be more conscious, to move slower, to view more at depth. i get this way when i am contemplative and never otherwise. mostly, i move in black and white (even though the interior most often is a shade of grey). i enjoy feeling the extremes because they leave little doubt as to what's there. acute senses make me feel vulnerable, they make me flinch as though in tending the fire, a stray ember has happened upon my skin.
currently i am certain that i am hurdling towards some change. change that has truth at its core.

Renew.

ok. i know my posts have sucked lately. i promise to do better.

literary merit.

i want my sister to write a novel.

in our adult lives i've always fancied her a david sedaris type long before we knew how to name the david sedaris type. she has an extraordinary way of putting things and through her words you often get to relive moments, albeit fleshed out and somehow infused with just the right amount of self-deprecating hilarity. (i wonder what she fancies me as. a towering giant who always was controlled by the elder sibling gene? or a protective companion? or even (ideally, i must admit) a twin separated by five years, ala gilmore girls, complete with witty banter expressed at a fast clip.)

from January 7 2003:
"yesterday for show and tell in lit class i showed two different views of our relationship when we were little: the video when you know you are being filmed and call me "your royalness" and ask if you can get me anything before flashing a big smile at the camera, and then the one when you hit me over the head with an egg. my teacher was quite pleased."

i will leave the comments section open for petition from others who agree that maija could provide more than sufficient documentation.

The first day of the rest of our lives...

It all boils down to this day, these next hours. To be continued...