Home for the Holidays

What is home? Home, as I was reminded walking out to my car Christmas eve, is the way the moonlight washes blue over the snow and how the train sounds in the distance, the way the snow smells and the wind sounds blowing through the barren trees--home has a quiet and a beauty all its own, and it is like no other place on Earth. It is the squirrels and the streetlights and the smell of the fire that comes from every house and no house but has always been there. And my family is there. Home is where I was sick for most of my trip and lied on the couch watching TV for three days, but if you have to get sick, you might as well do it when you are visiting your mother. Home is where taking care of her sick son is like riding a bike, I guess, because she's still got it. I did not get out much, but it was nice not to run around like a mad man for once, and it was nice just to be "home," really home, for once. So nice that I stayed an extra day to actually spend with my parents. I miss them. My only regret is that I didn't get to spend much time with my sister and niece.

Nagativity

Today, Lib and I went to her family Christmas. When we pulled up to her uncle's house, the "Keep Christ in Chrismas" sign in their front yard was half covered in snow, and I was thinking to myself that it was a nice sentiment if you wanted to make sure that "the reason for the season" was not forgotten in all the colored lights and materialism, but did it really warrant a posted sign that looked more like an election campaign? Were we voting somewhere to keep Christ in Christmas or was it an anonymous ballot in each of our hearts? But that is not the issue--as we walked in the house, the nativity scene in front was covered in eighteen inches of snow, and only poor Joseph's head was left peering out above the snow while Mary, yes Mary, the second greatest mother of all time (love you, mom--#1), and Jesus himself were burried under the snow. Now, if you're going to post that sign, if you really want to keep Christ in Christmas, then the first thing you have to do when it snows is dig his divine little butt out.

Dreams Do Come True

I don't know if it was finding out another one of my friends is having a baby paired with getting new tires yesterday because my old, bald ones contributed to the accident I got into where I hit a pick-up truck just before Halloween, but last night I dreamed that I was driving my father's truck down a hill and got into a minor head-on collision when a woman drifted into my lane. The damage was insignificant, so I got in the truck to continue on my way, but there was one of my friends' babies in the car, and it wasn't in a car seat; so fortunely, I found a backpack that when unzipped, unfolded a car seat for the child and strapped him in, which ended up saving his life because the same thing happened fifty feet down the road when another woman drifted into my lane, and this time, she smashed the front end of my dad's truck. I felt like an idiot, and I wasn't sure how to explain to my father that I had wrecked his truck twice. But I think he understood, because in the next scene of my dream, I was riding in the truck with my father when a woman drifted into his lane and we got into a head-on collision. Thankfully everyone was OK. However, not unlike many real-life accidents, when I awoke this morining, my neck was stiff and kinked up, and I couldn't turn it. But really, what did I expect after getting into three accidents last night?

One for the Glass Cases

I was talking to my students today about Holden's red hunting cap in The Catcher in the Rye and how he gives it to his litter sister Phoebe to somehow protect and preserve her even though she is clearly growing up. That hat, to Holden, is a retreat and a reminder of childhood and he would put it on in vain attempts to be someone he used to be in a world that used to exist; it allows him to act like a child, and it protects him from the wind and cold in what he sees as a cruel world. As the kids were drawing Phoebe, they asked me to draw the hat, and as I was doing so, I remembered for the first time that I used to have a tan cap with ear flaps that I bought specifically for campfires with my friends in the cold, which were quite often. So as the kids were working on their assignments, I found myself thinking of that hat and that time period and getting sentimental and longing for those years during and right after high school. Maybe it was because those memories had been so long stored that the smell was fresh, but they were so vivid and real when they rushed back that I just wanted that hat, and those friends and a campfire. But that is not how it works. But it was nice to remember anyway. See you guys soon.

System Failure

I don't know what I should focus more on with this post: the fact that the XBox 360 is a piece of crap because, in the past week, two of my friends' machines have broken and so has Lib's; the two hour plus journey to find a T8 star torque bit to take the XBox apart, which ended in success the next day after hours of deep searching at the Englishtown Flea Market; or maybe I should write about how I ran to the store for thermal paste and when I came back, Lib had abandoned the "how to fix your Xbox" video on Youtube to watch thermal video of people farting. Either way, the attempts to fix the Xbox ended in failure and Microsoft is getting what they want because we are going to spring for a new one--you win, jerk offs!

A Carcass Carol

I think Thanksgiving is officially over. I finished my turkey lunch (six days of turkey out of the past eight) and that was the last of it. But I am proud of what I did accomplish because I know I could go for a few more days if there were turkey available; however, maybe it's time for me to put thanksgiving in the past and focus on Christmas...Shoes.

25 Days of Christmas...Shoes

I have decided to sing "Christmas Shoes" every day at work until Christmas just to annoy my coworkers. There is a clear division of those who support and sing along with me and those who scowl. This is one of those things that sounded like a great idea at the time, but three days into it, I'm not sure that I have the stamina. If I want to saturate the English Department with the song, I must be the fountain spewing forth the cloying, sentimental swill that is "Christmas Shoes", and as it becomes more stagnant with every day, I feel the ill effects of contamination. I may have committed myself to delving deep into the heart of darkness, and I am not sure that I will come out of this the same person who started this joke. I love you all.

Turkey: Five days out of seven. Two out of three meals today.

Christmas Fever

Well, turkey fever didn't last long...or did it? On Friday morning, Lib and I went to the tree farm and cut down a spruce tree in the prime of its life so we could hang lights and bulbs from it (I wonder if this is a happy fate for trees or if it's like having your dog fixed and dressing it up in your sister's clothes and jewelry while it's still groggy). Either way, it was a nice time for all. The cat seemed to take a real interest, and led Lib and I around the tree in circles as we hung the lights; then she(the cat not Lib) proceeded to bat any ornaments that weren't hung high enough or nailed down into the stairwell, collecting them at the bottom of the steps. Later, Lib dug out the Fimo (clay) and we made a couple of ornaments for the tree. What kind of ornaments does one make to celebrate Christmas you may ask? Easy...Sushi. Mine is the appetizing tuna roll with ginger and wasabi, while Lib went for the inside-out California roll with black sesame seeds. We are officially knee deep in the holiday season, people. And don't worry. I haven't left Thanksgiving and Turkey Fever completely behind. Lib and I made another Turkey on Sunday just because we wanted to and will be eating more leftovers for dinner tonight with homemade macaroni. Days I have eaten turkey: four out of the past six and counting.