dec 24: i just got off the elevator with a japanese neighbor who said to me, "so. how are you this today?" this today. since that moment i've been recounting my day. cursed the alarm clock but smiled that m - who always has to get up first - got to stay in bed. wore the same polo shirt as eighty other people. drank lukewarm cocoa on an eighty-five degree day. got sprayed with silly string. wore two party hats at one time to the tremendous amusement of one hundred some nine year olds. ate a new mysterious food - white coconut jelly shaped like a duck. ate altogether too much food. remembered that i don't hate my day job, and, in fact, that i think that nine year olds can be pretty great. christmas shopped. rode two different trains. fell asleep reading don quixote. daydreamed about wisconsin. rode the bus two times. got takeaway and busted the guy's balls about adding a service charge. bought candy to fill a stocking. trudged home. began finding notes stashed all around, recounting the magic in the shared moments of the past year. smiled. (i'm not yet done with those last two.)
hm. this today has been a far cry from bad or normal. but i have been caught off guard. christmas sneaks up with no snow. holidays reveal the charming, graceful parts of people that are too often covered over with the verdigris of this and that. i've had moments of clarity that cut through the incessant bossa nova christmas songs, and i wonder if maybe i'm believing in things. my dad sent me a christmassy book that arrived last night out of the blue and it lingered in my thoughts this today as one of my favorite gestures by anybody in a long time. m is sneakliy reminding me of moments as i fumble about the place.
if i had to say, i guess i'd go with sneaky; this today has been sneaky. and this today is christmas eve. so merry sneaky christmas. i miss all of your far away faces.
(pic by m)