Posted by: Ingrid | December 26, 2007

Christmas is over in 45 minutes

Only in California does it warm up to ungodly t-shirt weather  on Christmas Eve. I suppose someday I might possibly equate Christmas with snow blowers and frost bite and fingers that don’t thaw until May, but that is not the reality of this Christmas.  So I wore gloves with my t-shirt tonight while I ran.  It’s the thought that counts, after all.

I can categorically say that this Christmas was better than I thought it would be and also that I’m glad it’s over.  Which may be a sort of Scrooge-like thing to say, but at this point I made it, I didn’t die, no one else died, and mostly it was good.  Could I ask for anything more?
I learned today that you shouldn’t have a martini with coffee and coffee cake for breakfast.  Not even if you and your husband tag team and end up with a cocktail shaker and martini glasses and you both accidentally buy the same green apple martini mix and you happen to have a good supply of vodka in the pantry.  Oh my poor aching head.  Or maybe it just needs to be diluted with something that aids in hydration.  Maybe I’ll try that next Christmas.  Water, what a novel concept.

We went way overboard for Christmas, which was weird in a good way, and sort of fun.  I got to go to church last night, which sort of helped the ache and the feeling of looking for something familiar.  In the past few days I’ve managed to run 17 miles and walk 10.  And I’ve mostly spent Christmas night running and sort of packing and eating foods that involve way too much chocolate and watching one episode of House and three episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.  Partly because I know I can’t renew the DVDs and partly because I have this strange fascination with medical dramas.  Maybe because it shows me all sorts of possible ways that everyone I know could die.  Because everyone I know is dying.  I’m getting tired of feeling like that Sixth Sense character… “I see dead people.”  And I should probably think about that later because I don’t feel like being too morbid and because Mary knew it would hurt and still figured out how to love, not to mention God… I just can’t figure out how to connect that to me.  Because loving hurts and people die and life is fragile and broken.

I’m glad Christmas is over.

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