Holy Crap

Here's what I just realized:

THERE ARE ONLY 9 DAYS UNTIL IT'S CHRISTMAS



This means:

1) Knitting until my hands fall off to finish gifts for Aimee, Jana, Candace and Erica

2) Picking up my hands and crocething them to my wrists so that I can finish gifts for Mom&Dad, Ed and Michelle

3) Finding comfortable shoes and an assistant to help me navigate the NYC subway system so that I can buy the trim for gifts for Abbott (who I love), Anthony, Eric and Ketch.

4) Figuring out a way to get home for the holidays. Do you want to know something? It costs more for my dog's ticket to crappy Cincinnati than it costs for MY ticket. I weigh 3 times as much as him. Blech. Gak. But, this is how he looks at me:



So, wouldn't you drive him wherever he wanted to go? Yeah, you would. So, I guess I'll be driving ... for 10 hours ... with a big dog ... and a tiny cat ... in a tiny car (because that's all I can afford to rent) ... Okay, I'll just say it: Please feel sorry for me! Christmas used to be fun, now (okay, it's fun when I get there), but it's terrifying. It took me 24 hours of driving last year, due to some big snowstorm. I am having PTSD flashbacks.

Okay, so #4 is crappy, and #s 1 through 3 are stressing me out, but it's Christmas, just the same, so Happy Holidays and Best Wishes for the New Year.



I hope the person you want to kiss when the ball drops at midnight is standing right next to you, wanting to kiss you a little bit, too.

Ho Ho Humbug

So, my mom and dad are doing Rekkhi (sp?) wherein they learn the healing art of touch. I don't mean that in a smarmy way. I really believe in the power of prayer and the power of belief, so I think it's great that they're doing this. They're at the stage in their training now where they are able to send good vibes my way over distance. And, it works. Here's how I know:

Today, this evil little man (who was wearing a beret, which, if that's not enough to make me hate him ... well, okay it is) was talking on his cell phone LOUDLY as I was walking with Ed and Anthony through Rockerfeller Center Plaza on the way to our office Xmas party. First, I was angry because he was talking so loudly, because, that's just obnoxious. But then, he says, and I quote: "I was so happy they started up with the death penalty again in California. They should kill all those fuckers."

Now, here's the thing: I'm not sure where I stand on the death penalty. On the one hand, it makes me really nervous for the state to mete out that kind of punishment. On the other hand, I get an eye for an eye and all. BUT, here's the other thing: It's Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanza - whatever the belief system, the season, I think, dictates if not love for one's fellow man, at least consideration that there are likely to be children around! Multo inappropriato to be saying things like "Kill all those fuckers" right next to the big ass Xmas tree in the plaza. That's all my disgust was about. (That, and the beret. Yelch.)

The old J would have just been pissed over it, sad, spirit sapped. The new J at least had the gumption to point out the attempt at spirit stealing. It kind of felt good to let it be known that I was vomitous. And then, the beret-wearer (who I thought had turned the corner when I was recounting his assness to Ed and Anthony) says, "That's right, I said it." Proud to have been an ass. Aren't they all? Yeesh.

And then, I felt sorry for him. Not that he has beliefs that are not mine (see above re: conflict over death penalty), but that he felt the need to be so loud and angry in front of little kids. That's a sad, sad man. And, tonight, on the way home, I said a little prayer for him. (Dear Lord, please let him die ... no, I mean, please let him stop spewing his anger on the children. Yeah, that's it.). I am evolved.