Bittersweet.

Last year, I blew up my life. A Big Bang theory that is more terrestrial than not. A deluge of dusts and gases and elements, spewing forth and floating aimlessly toward an immense nothingness.

Today, I see these dusts and gases starting to curdle, taking shape like stars being birthed from a nebulous womb. While the stars themselves aren't yet fully formed, I can feel their shape within me. I know that soon, these stars will be huge masses, strong with ideas and order. And soon after that, they will ignite, and I will be burning strong once again. The hope that this can happen is something I haven't felt in a long time.

Christmas was always unbelievably rough on me; I'm a huge mush-head and in love with everything a little too much, being physically torn from one moment to the next, kicking and screaming and crying the whole way in (and out). I was never interested in the new stuff. Coming into this season, floating around like those dusts in a void, left me feeling empty and yearning for Christmases past, when all the variables were known. I knew I would be going to R's family. I knew I would be going to see my family. I knew that at some point I would get together with friends over drinks at some bar in the city. Every Christmas, the comfort of sameness got me through. The moments repeated themselves and I felt an incredible ease with it all, despite my past screaming at me to come back.

This year, without the comforts of sameness, I had some difficult moments. Breaking down. Feeling completely alone. In the Christmas aisle of a Target. Washing dishes at the bar. Watching Christmas videos. Visiting a friend and her two-year old son. On the street seeing couples walking. Or kissing. Or organizing shopping bags at a bus stop. Or whatever couples do. And they're happy.

I saw people dragging fresh trees to nearby apartments. I saw couples strapping snowboards to cars. (Where the heck were they going?? There's no snow anywhere!) I saw both bars I work at transformed into Christmas palaces in a day. One of them even got a tree. Friends are going home. Friends' children are getting excited about Santa.

Despite all of this, I felt the incredible ridiculousness of existence. Not that I'm going to go and off myself. But being alive suddenly seemed incredibly futile. What's the freaking point? Was all that kept running through my head. Nothing was making me feel any peace. Not my health, not anything else that I (gratefully) have, not my family, not friends, nothing. It all just seemed so... freaking ridiculous. We're all going to die. That's it. And all these silly traditions and made-up fantasies are a smokescreen to keep us from recognizing the fact that we're all doomed. I had the sad misfortune of peeking behind the curtain of the Great and Powerful Oz and saw... nothingness.

But then, a Christmas miracle.

Last week, one of my new friends came into the bar and made a most glorious quilt. It's a quilt for hanging. And she finished it. And she gave it to me. Me. I was so overcome with emotion that someone thought of me enough to do that for me, let along someone I had just met a few months ago, that I cried. Blubbered openly like Blanche at the Rydell High School graduation. Right there. At the bar. I was working. It was totally unprofessional. Since then, a few more surprises. Incredibly thoughtful gifts from people I barely remember talking to. And quiet nights in with someone I'm feeling pretty amazing about. Christmas lights and music everywhere. And suddenly I feel like someone sprinkled Christmas dust on my sorry ass.

Not that I'm magically ok. I'm not. At all. But I realized that it's all going to be ok. We're all going to die. Of course. But we are all cognizant (hopefully) of everything and everyone around us. And in doing so, we hold those memories in our minds. All those new memories. All the new things that people do for us to help us through, whether they realize it or not. All the new special things we do. Together. In little pieces or in giant wads. We all help each other through it. After all, more than all the stupid tales and fantasies about Christmas, this is a holiday about being with people that you love, and who love you. New friends and old. Real family and temporarily adopted family.

I realized that there are people out there who actually give a crap. And that makes me downright giddy.

So, thank you. Thank you to all of you for making this one of the most important holiday seasons I've ever had in my life. I'm brand new. After all this time. I'm brand new, and I can finally feel the beauty of life. And feel my life. For the first time ever.

Breaking up.

It's cold today. It feels like something around 29 degrees. Not too cold. But cold enough. For SNOW! And WINTER!! Come on winter! What are you waiting for? I've been standing here in my scarf and mittens, waiting waiting waiting. But you're totally dissing me. You did this to me last year, too. Damn you. I really don't want to break up with you, but I deserve better. Don't make me go. But you know I will if I have to. Vermont's been calling me again, you know. Wants me to move up there. Says I don't deserve this treatment from you. Says I deserve better. And you know what? It's totally true. Think about what you're doing, Winter.

I can always tell when it's about 25 degrees or below. The inside of my nose feels a certain way, and my whole body feels stiff. I noticed this about 10 years back while I was on that annual trip with my family to Woodstock, VT.

It was -25 degrees one night (yes, MINUS 25), and my sisters and I decided to have a little adventure. None of us had ever been out in such extreme cold. We spent a half hour donning layer upon layer: thermals, socks, turtlenecks, t-shirts, sweaters, leggings, sweatpants, snowpants and ski parkas. We shoved our sock-heavy feet into wool-lined boots, slipped our fingers into two pairs of gloves, pulled on some hats, wrapped ourselves up in scarves and finally, goggles. No part of our skin was exposed. We were told that frostbite would only take a few minutes to set. I was excited. I imagined I was an astronaut, about to explore a new M-class planet.

Out we went. It was minus 25 before wind chill. It must have been minus 40 with it. We walked stiffly, like robots on the moon, toward a little skating rink. We were not surprised to find it completely empty. With all the layers, we found it was a lot of fun to run across the ice and fling ourselves onto it. Full-body skating! What a riot. We had a great time. And that's when I felt real coldness for the first time.

I get pissed off at people who complain about it being cold when it's 35 degrees. I get even more pissed at people who complain about winter. I've said this even as a young girl: if you don't like winter, get the fuck SOUTH so we don't have to listen to your lame ass complaining about it!

I LOVE love love love love love Winter. Even though we're about to break up. I love snow. I love cold. I love hot chocolate. I love Christmas. I love peppermint. I love pine. I love dressing in layers. I love looking up at a crystal-clear winter night sky. I love looking up at the snow-heavy clouds of the winter day sky. I love snowboarding and skiing. I love sledding. I love snow piles. I love jumping into snow piles. I love throwing snowballs. I love sweaters. I love guys in sweaters. I love hats. I love driving in snow. I love driving really long distances in snow. I love driving to Vermont. In snow.

Come on, snow.

Better life, wit-snapper

How long will it be before SPAM is illegal? I've started making a list of my favorite SPAM subject lines. I was going to submit them to Karl's TG7 list, but ahh I'm just gonna post em here.

7 SPAM subject lines I've found highly amusing:

1. Busty teen tries her first anal fucking
2. Essential note. You require to read.
3. Be strong, olive-backed thrush
4. It's not wonder your girlfriend is very angry!
5. Order it on-line and impress your girlfriend with your wonderful shooting
6. But now I can penetrate hardly and give the pleasure to every woman!
7. Better life, wit-snapper

Cute, right? Yeah, adorable. Recently, I've been completely overwhelmed by SPAM. I'd been getting well over 100 email messages a day, resulting in a loss of productivity, not just because I spend an enormous amount of time sifting through emails and deleting them, but because my old over-burdened computer-machine is crashing regularly. It was so damn frustrating. I even configured my server to better filter out junk mail, but with not much improvement.

A few things made themselves very apparent to me: 1. I may need to switch hosts, and 2. I desperately need a new computer. Here it is: MacBook Pro. If I start saving now, I can have it by.. um... next year. Fuckety Duck. With a new computer I can: work on motion graphic projects, create the songs i've written, work faster, set up a wireless network, finish my brother's wedding video, even though he's now going through a nasty divorce, and finally, look cool at Starbucks while i write my book. And screenplay. Here's to hoping the tips are great for the next couple of months! I even tried out a new outfit. K said it may work very well. I'll let you know.

December #7.

You wrote me a note
on the back of a leftover schedule
from last year.

I flipped it over.

A name familiar.
A date I remember in dreams as
a long ago fantasy
brought to life for one magic night:

the date on the old schedule
you wrote me that note on.