Ho Ho Horrendous

The window's open now and the winter settles in.

We'll call it Christmas when the adverts begin.

I love your depression and I love your double chin,

I love 'most everything that you bring to this offering.

("The Animals Were Gone" by Damien Rice)

I hope you all had very nice holidays with your loved ones, or by yourselves, and that in the midst of it all you felt a warm feeling wrap around you. That was probably me, thinking of you. Or you peed yourself. Either way, I hope it was enjoyable.

The family is here visiting, so I haven't been able to be around as much. Tomorrow we're headed to the New Mexico mountains for snow and things. I haven't baked. I haven't slept. I have not much hope left for certain things in my life, so to avoid feeling sad every day, I'm just cutting those things out. If it's pain now or pain later, I rather go through it now and get it done with. Move on.

I finally went to see Harry Potter 7...a month later. It was dark, gloomy and depressing...as it was expected to be given the point in the books we're reaching in these movies. Death, grief, disloyalty, betrayal, wands and Ron Weasley getting hotter by the second. Bill and Fleurs' wedding was beautiful there for a while. Jesus...I'm sitting here discussing Harry Potter with you. My apologies.

I also went to see True Grit. That was overall good, very humorous in some ways...very real in others. Jeff Bridges was...Jeff Bridges. Matt Damon was fat and pervy. The little girl was, I don't know who she was. But she has a bit of something going on if you can keep the attention off Bridges and Damon throughout a movie. My popcorn was soggy, and my chair squeaked. But I spent the whole day at the movies, which gave me a nice mental break from everything else.

It's Sunday after Christmas. May your gift returns be few and your football be great. To my friends in the Northeast, stay warm in the blizzard. To me, it'll be ok. It'll be over soon.

Time for nachos.

Con Te Partiro

I'm sitting at work on a Monday morning, swamped under innumerable support calls and sipping on my 4th Coke Zero in 2 hours.

I'm listening to my music, as usual...and out of the haze of metal and blues (sprinkled with a heaping dose of spanish rock)...Andrea Bocelli's 'Con Te Partiro' comes up.

A smile spreads on my lips and I start giggling to myself. I remember my twin's giggle when I'd start singing this song, horribly, on the mic in a Yahoo chatroom. Especially since I sounded like a mix between Beeker and Ms. Piggy when I try to sing it.

I miss her. I miss that. I miss us.

And then Alan Jackson's "Good Time" comes on...and that was Jeff's ringtone. *sips drink quietly*

I've Done Alright For A Girl

The memories we've buried

Have just taken seed
When springtime comes
They'll turn into weeds
And they'll creep through your window
to smother your dreams...

...Yeah, fate has a funny way
of coming around.

The guitar, covered in dust and without a single string in tune, has been sitting in the corner of my bedroom since July. Around the same time I lost all interest in playing it, and music started hurting.

I picked it up two nights ago, when I felt the same hurt that made me put it away in the first place. I played for a while, took this picture and figured, what doesn't kill me...may not make me stronger, but hey, makes me who I am.

I think certain things are dying, and many more will be over. I have my family flying in from Puerto Rico on Dec. 21st and staying for a few weeks up here...in my very tiny two bedroom home. We'll go to New Mexico, see snow and play in it. I'll probably bake while my two aunts and mom, three sisters, sit on the counter laughing at the stuff I come up with and how much like my grandma I am. We'll get quiet, I'll crack a joke...

I'm going to sink in the tub for a bit. Please get out of my head.

Howling

There's a show I just finished watching on the Spanish NATGEO channel titled "Human Pray", that has left me with a new view on a topic that has been a source of terror since my childhood:

Wolves.

I've blogged a few times about how wolves scare me and have been the main villains in a recurring nightmare I've had since I was 7 years old. I've also mentioned how, aside from scaring me, they are one of my favorite animals - after the llamas and seals.

When I was a kid, my father used to think it was funny to howl in the middle of the night until I'd be so scared, I'd be in tears begging him not to turn into a wolf. Funny pops, ha ha. Use the phobia as a joke. Sweet.

The show interviews this family with three sons that decided to go camping at a national park in Canada. They canoe up the river to a secluded part of the forest, about 3 hours from any civilization. After a day of fun and leaving their campground unattended, they make a fire and start cooking dinner. They hear a wolf howling in the distance, and they all join in and howl back. They hear the howls closer, but think nothing of it. In fact, it's such a gorgeous night, they decide against sleeping inside the tents, and opt for a night under the stars...

They put the 3 yr old between his older brothers, who are 11 and 9. The parents go a few dozen feet away, and everyone goes to sleep. Honky Dory. Naturally, in the middle of the night, the wolf found them. He literally was eating the 11 year old's face off, the kid didn't wake up until he felt he was being dragged away fast into the forest. Kid screams, parents fight off the wolf who kept coming back time and time again until they got the hint that A) the wolf was hungry and B) their son lost half his face and was bleeding to death. Canoe their happy asses 3 hours down the river, then 4 hour drive to hospital. Kid made it but is traumatized by wolves.

Ahem. This comforted me greatly. I now realize wolves can't hurt me. Ever. Here's why:

I will not ever camp in an area where wolves live.

I will not camp more than a few minutes from civilization. Screw Bear Gryllis.

My ass will not cook and leave food outside...even if I'm just surrounded by raccoons.

My ass will also sleep INSIDE a tent, with a big ass knife and a shotgun. In case the Zombie Apocalypse begins while I'm on vacation.

In general, I'll limit my wolf contact to nightmares, zoos and on the t.v. Even then, I probably wouldn't howl back.

I need sleep.