CAN WE GET A TISSUE FOR THE WOMAN?
And, it's gone. Christmas is not in my heart today. Kaput. Instead I am a heap of emotions, not only from today, but from this month, this year, this lifetime. Now granted, I am having my monthly week of hell and cry at the drop of a hat. Today I have cried about not having Christmas this year, bawled during and after seeing King Kong, and cried over accidentally stepping on and squishing a baby slug. What the hell? I hate slugs, but still, it made me sad. I have cried for what I have and what I don't. I hate this. I hate being emotional. I hate that I am writing this on my damned blog! And please, no one needs to email me after reading it to see if I am okay, as often happens. I will always be okay, but I just need to vent right now.
I feel restless and hungry to live more. I want to play outside, but it is always raining! I want to run away where no one knows who I am, where I can be invisible when I want and then show myself when the desire to do so arises. I want to see the world. I want to roll in the mud (this is an unusual craving that keeps coming up lately). I want to swim in the ocean, then come out and smell the humid air and the flowers. I want to laugh my ass off (I do often, but want to more). I want love again. I want to stop being afraid of my heart hurting.
Now don't get me wrong. I have a very full life in the sense of being surrounded by lots of love from friends and family. I have the necessities of shelter, food and water. I have all my limbs, all my senses, and a good heart. I have the basic necessities that some don't have and I try to remember this when I get down. But I still want more. I want my heart to stay full. I want to write, write, write. I want to wake up next to someone I love and see their eyes every morning when I wake up. I want to appreciate what I have and continue to always be open, to grab the moment. It just seems that the things I'm open to aren't necessarily there waiting for me. I honestly believe that the universe takes us to where we're supposed to be, but I'm wondering if it's on a commercial break right now.
I'm so grateful for what I have, but when I close my eyes I see and feel this other path in front of me. Then I open my eyes and I wonder where that path starts?
Okay, tearing up again. You know what pisses me off? They make everything to get you through your period...tampons, midol, water retention pills, chocolate, etc., yet there is nothing for the tears except for a lousy box of Kleenex. Can someone please fix that? I'd really, really appreciate it, as then I would not be this raging hormone venting to the world.
There is so much more I want to say, but don't think I should. I shall go for now and stop my bitching. I think I'm going to go close my eyes and try to find the start of that path.
Much love to everyone,
Heather
I feel restless and hungry to live more. I want to play outside, but it is always raining! I want to run away where no one knows who I am, where I can be invisible when I want and then show myself when the desire to do so arises. I want to see the world. I want to roll in the mud (this is an unusual craving that keeps coming up lately). I want to swim in the ocean, then come out and smell the humid air and the flowers. I want to laugh my ass off (I do often, but want to more). I want love again. I want to stop being afraid of my heart hurting.
Now don't get me wrong. I have a very full life in the sense of being surrounded by lots of love from friends and family. I have the necessities of shelter, food and water. I have all my limbs, all my senses, and a good heart. I have the basic necessities that some don't have and I try to remember this when I get down. But I still want more. I want my heart to stay full. I want to write, write, write. I want to wake up next to someone I love and see their eyes every morning when I wake up. I want to appreciate what I have and continue to always be open, to grab the moment. It just seems that the things I'm open to aren't necessarily there waiting for me. I honestly believe that the universe takes us to where we're supposed to be, but I'm wondering if it's on a commercial break right now.
I'm so grateful for what I have, but when I close my eyes I see and feel this other path in front of me. Then I open my eyes and I wonder where that path starts?
Okay, tearing up again. You know what pisses me off? They make everything to get you through your period...tampons, midol, water retention pills, chocolate, etc., yet there is nothing for the tears except for a lousy box of Kleenex. Can someone please fix that? I'd really, really appreciate it, as then I would not be this raging hormone venting to the world.
There is so much more I want to say, but don't think I should. I shall go for now and stop my bitching. I think I'm going to go close my eyes and try to find the start of that path.
Much love to everyone,
Heather
MAGIC SNOW HEALS ALL WOUNDS
It has finally happened!
Despite the fact that I had holiday events on Thursday and Friday, I was stuck in Grinch mode about the holidays, as this will be the first Christmas in years not spent with all of my family. I had a lovely time with friends both nights, but just have not been in the Christmas spirit. Of course, my fucking festive period returned from Thanksgiving and started up at the white elephant gift exchange on Friday night. This led me to spending most of my Saturday in bed in agony from cramps. This dampened my spirits even more. "Fuck Christmas. Fuck my period. Fuck everything," I thought all day today.
Then I go over to hang out with Terri, Joe and Alex tonight. They make a nice dinner as usual and we play Go Fish and Sorry. I'm having fun, but still no Christmas spirit. They then present me with a gift and though that isn't a necessity, it is the only present I have this year and it almost made me cry. Then it comes to 10:30 PM, and Alex is going to write his letter to Santa before he goes to bed. However, a cut on his ankle from ice skating has mysteriously flared up before bedtime causing him agony and a bout of over-dramatization. He is carried out into the chair next to the table we are sitting at and he is whimpering that he is in too much pain to write to Santa. I offer to do so and the following is what was written (Alex's words are in quotes, and I have a copy of these letters sitting right next to me, so they are written verbatim):
Dear Santa,
Alex really wanted to write this personally, but in the spirit of Christmas, he went ice skating and tragically injured his ankle, therefore I am transcribing for our wounded Christmas soldier.
"Thank you Santa, for delivering presents to all the kids in the world. I hope you like our cookies and hot chocolate...I'm sorry. It's so hard to think when I'm in so much pain. Merry Christmas! I hope you like this note.
Love,
Alex
P.S. Write me back"
P.S.S. Please heal Alex's ankle - Auntie Heather
As I am writing this the kid has his arm on his forehead and his small bandaided ankle peaking out of the blankets he is covered in, and we are all trying not to laugh as he is telling me what to write. So Alex goes to bed and Terri asks if I can answer the two questions that he has left for Santa on a second piece of paper since he doesn't recognize my handwriting. This makes me even happier, as I get to play Santa of sorts. I agree to do so. The following are Alex's questions to Santa, and my...er, Santa's answers:
"Santa, do you have a crush?
I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A CRUSH ON MRS. CLAUS. SHE HAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SMILE.
Who's your favorite kid to give presents to?
I LOVE ALL CHILDREN, BUT I HAVE GREATLY ENJOYED YOUR COOKIES, MILK AND THE LETTERS YOU HAVE WRITTEN ME OVER THE YEARS. MRS. CLAUS HAS KEPT THE LETTERS IN A BOX FOR ME AT THE NORTH POLE. MERRY CHRISTMAS ALEX! LOVE, SANTA
From,
Alex
P.S. SORRY TO HEAR OF YOUR ANKLE INJURY. WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, I PUT MAGIC SNOW ON YOUR ANKLE AND YOU SHOULD FEEL FINE NOW MY CHRISTMAS SOLDIER."
Christmas is now in my heart folks! It just took a little bit of Santa to bring it back.
Merry Christmas everyone. I hope your heart is full of laughter and Christmas spirit!
Love,
Heather
Despite the fact that I had holiday events on Thursday and Friday, I was stuck in Grinch mode about the holidays, as this will be the first Christmas in years not spent with all of my family. I had a lovely time with friends both nights, but just have not been in the Christmas spirit. Of course, my fucking festive period returned from Thanksgiving and started up at the white elephant gift exchange on Friday night. This led me to spending most of my Saturday in bed in agony from cramps. This dampened my spirits even more. "Fuck Christmas. Fuck my period. Fuck everything," I thought all day today.
Then I go over to hang out with Terri, Joe and Alex tonight. They make a nice dinner as usual and we play Go Fish and Sorry. I'm having fun, but still no Christmas spirit. They then present me with a gift and though that isn't a necessity, it is the only present I have this year and it almost made me cry. Then it comes to 10:30 PM, and Alex is going to write his letter to Santa before he goes to bed. However, a cut on his ankle from ice skating has mysteriously flared up before bedtime causing him agony and a bout of over-dramatization. He is carried out into the chair next to the table we are sitting at and he is whimpering that he is in too much pain to write to Santa. I offer to do so and the following is what was written (Alex's words are in quotes, and I have a copy of these letters sitting right next to me, so they are written verbatim):
Dear Santa,
Alex really wanted to write this personally, but in the spirit of Christmas, he went ice skating and tragically injured his ankle, therefore I am transcribing for our wounded Christmas soldier.
"Thank you Santa, for delivering presents to all the kids in the world. I hope you like our cookies and hot chocolate...I'm sorry. It's so hard to think when I'm in so much pain. Merry Christmas! I hope you like this note.
Love,
Alex
P.S. Write me back"
P.S.S. Please heal Alex's ankle - Auntie Heather
As I am writing this the kid has his arm on his forehead and his small bandaided ankle peaking out of the blankets he is covered in, and we are all trying not to laugh as he is telling me what to write. So Alex goes to bed and Terri asks if I can answer the two questions that he has left for Santa on a second piece of paper since he doesn't recognize my handwriting. This makes me even happier, as I get to play Santa of sorts. I agree to do so. The following are Alex's questions to Santa, and my...er, Santa's answers:
"Santa, do you have a crush?
I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A CRUSH ON MRS. CLAUS. SHE HAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SMILE.
Who's your favorite kid to give presents to?
I LOVE ALL CHILDREN, BUT I HAVE GREATLY ENJOYED YOUR COOKIES, MILK AND THE LETTERS YOU HAVE WRITTEN ME OVER THE YEARS. MRS. CLAUS HAS KEPT THE LETTERS IN A BOX FOR ME AT THE NORTH POLE. MERRY CHRISTMAS ALEX! LOVE, SANTA
From,
Alex
P.S. SORRY TO HEAR OF YOUR ANKLE INJURY. WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, I PUT MAGIC SNOW ON YOUR ANKLE AND YOU SHOULD FEEL FINE NOW MY CHRISTMAS SOLDIER."
Christmas is now in my heart folks! It just took a little bit of Santa to bring it back.
Merry Christmas everyone. I hope your heart is full of laughter and Christmas spirit!
Love,
Heather
