Friday, December 24, 2010

calm and bright. part 2.

while still sick. and tired. oh so very tired. my night of misery evolved into a morning of joy.

I finally returned to bed sometime between 5:30 and 6:00 AM - this was after having been awake since 3, and could not stop the tears, or calm down to sleep. So I layed in bed, eyes leaking.

Clin woke around 6, and proceeded to lecture me on healthy behavior.... kind of ironic. I know. But in the early morning fatigue we both decided sleep was not an option and went downstairs to watch this - which we've had from Netflix since October 15th. What better time to conquer. Thinking it would force sleep upon me, I was wrong.

I enjoyed it.

And it calmed me down. And brightened my day. Because I wasn't so lonely. And it was the first time we've ever watched a movie at 6am.

I'm thinking we have a new Christmas Eve tradition!

calm and bright.

Here it is 5:00 AM, and I'm awake, thinking. Nose dripping. Tired. Sick. And awake.

Which makes me think of my Dad. Do I have insomnia? The thought that plagues me everytime I have a night like this.

(Or aphrodisiac, as I so clearly explained to family friends at a game night when I was in middle school. Or maybe it was high school. But that's normal to mix those two words. Right? Insomniac. Aphrodisiac. Same thing. Don't you see it?)

And I was perusing the beautiful blogs, and saw a Christmas Card declaring "All is Calm, All is Bright." But it's not. And I'm not. I'm lonely. And sad. And I miss my family. I miss friends.

It's my own fault. I don't have time for family. Or friends. Which is okay 90% of the time. Because I'm socially inept that way. (Or perhaps you could also say social insomniac. Or social aphrodisiac.)

And I read these posts about people who live near their siblings, and trade children/get together/like each other on a daily basis and it makes me sad. I will never live by my siblings. And half the time I think they hate me because I mess up Christmas (sorry Lindy) and cause anger (sorry Kyle and Nathan and everyone else) and am not eloquent, funny, or much fun. And I would like to pick up and go visit them all but have this adversion to spending money (another reason I'm loving Christmas this year.)

It's so much easier to connect with siblings who know me and all the negatives wrapped in that package. And perhaps still might be okay with that. But maybe they aren't.

And now I'm just babbling.

But same for Mom and Dad. Who fix things. That I can't.

So merry, merry all. I'm going back to bed.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

in the snow.

One thing that I enjoy about blogs -- other peoples' blogs -- not my blog -- are the beautiful, vibrant, photoshopped pictures of the beautiful, vibrant, edited lives of lovely, articulate strangers. How easy it is to present life as a shimmering orb of perfection. And I like following shiny orbs. Or I like perfection. Particularly the glossy cover-art kinds.

And I think it might be a fun hobby to attempt the creation of a snowglobe life filled with sparkling whimsy and splashy fun.

But I can't write that way. If I did, though, you would now be reading about the crisp evening in a backyard covered in mounds of snow, pristine and untouched. Steam from the dryer vent adding a haze to the cloud covered sky, creating stage effects for our first attempt at throwing ourselves into such perfection.

Small bodies stuck in drifts after each fall, as mother makes her way to save each one from the snow angels holding them hostage. Rolling out the snowman layers, creating snowball machines, eating the productions and starting over again.

Frosty appearing underneath the large tree, without carrot, hat, scarf, or buttons but sculpting replicas out of the excess snow that just happens to be laying at our feet.

And you might imagine an evening of perfection and beauty, within a snowglobe of our own.

Until I admit that this is our first snowman. And I feel bad about that.

And that is where I fall out of the orb, in that I am compelled to admit my guilt and complete lack of abilities of submitting my will to the needs of my children.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

telling you - watch this.

Thought of You from Ryan J Woodward on Vimeo.

And a making of video with the choreophrapher - Kori Wakamatsu. I'm one of her biggest fans. (I consider her a friend too. Really. As in I know someone brilliant!)

Thought of You - Behind the Scenes Preview - ROUGH CUT from Cambell Christensen on Vimeo.

Did you see 2 of Clin's former students in that? Oh yes you did.