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In-betweeness
Dec. 25th, 2012 09:48 pm{A whole Christmas season and I haven't used my Picard icon once? Shame on me. Better fix that, even if it's not quite a perfect fit for the mood.}
Christmas has been lovely. Last night the Bisbee Royale (local bar/stage/venue that was refurbished and opened up this year) was showing A Christmas Story, which I'd somehow managed to miss all through my childhood. (Brian had been meaning to watch it with me, but he grew up with 24-hour marathons of it on TNT, so he'd never quite been able to work up much enthusiasm to rent it.) While I will happily agree with him that it's not a great movie, watching it half-blitzed on excellent cognac with a whole group of folks cackling equally loudly at poor Ralphie is possibly the ideal way to enjoy it. Especially when you have a husband to drive you home.
We did get home, and opened our presents; I got Brian a lot of silly toys from ThinkGeek, including a cuddly Portal turret to go with the cuddly Endeavour shuttle he got at the California Science Center (how did I forget to mention that we went to see Endeavour while we were in LA?), and he got me a couple of books and a lovely new shirt. The standout gift, though, had to be the gorgeous wine stopper our landlords gave us - it has a sculpture of a copper butterfly with the most gorgeous cloisonne work. My favorite kind of art: gorgeous, functional, and likely to get a goodly amount of use.
For Christmas Day, we invited our friends Evan and Michelle over to hang out while Brian made an amazing ham dinner. I even used a tablecloth and set the table and everything - I was a little surprised to find that over the years we've managed to accumulate some lovely Christmas dishes, nice glassware, candles, and a centerpiece. It's like we have an actual household with nice holiday things! Not that I'm complaining; mostly I was just a bit surprised, as I've never really set out to accumulate special china or what have you.
Now the friends have gone (taking some leftovers with them, thankfully), and the house is quiet once more. I feel like there should be softly falling snow outside, though of course there isn't (it's 46 degrees out, after all). And I feel...not let down, exactly. But contemplative.
Honestly, I've always found the tail end of Christmas to be a far more contemplative/wistful time than New Year's. New Year's is exciting; it's the beginning of another cycle, full of all sorts of possibilities. Christmas, especially the end of Christmas...it's another year done with. Everything important, all the big milestones and events and plans, are over. You're just in that strange week-long limbo until the calendars all tick over and you can start something new.
(Now that I think on it, it's always felt odd to me, that week between Christmas and New Year's. Poised between two stages, as it were. I'm almost certain I've read about various indigenous cultures that had terms for that state of in-betweeness, often with rather interesting beliefs about it - a child who had reached their age of majority but not yet completed their rite of passage into adulthood, for instance, was in some cultures thought to be without a soul (having given up their childhood soul but not yet gained their adult one). I remember as a kid thinking that this last week of the year felt oddly...empty, somehow. Like a held breath, just waiting for the right moment to let it all out.)
It's been a good year in many, many ways. Brian and I have managed to get better at communicating and to improve on more than a few issues in our relationship. I bought a guitar and have been learning to play it (although it seems weird to think that I've been playing for less than a year; it's really felt more like I've always been a guitarist, and just been on break for a while, and am reminding myself how it all goes again). I traveled to the East Coast for the first time, and spent some time with a good friend while also meeting the nifty people he lives with/around. I auditioned for a prestigious music school, despite it being [a] scary as hell, [b] quite a bit of effort and [c] a long shot anyway. I went back to Alaska and saw people I miss greatly, while also confirming my hunch that, frankly, I've outgrown the place.
But I think I'm ready to move on. This next year promises to be interesting, though so far it's been coy as to the details. And the only way to find them out, really, is to go forward.
Onward and upward...
Christmas has been lovely. Last night the Bisbee Royale (local bar/stage/venue that was refurbished and opened up this year) was showing A Christmas Story, which I'd somehow managed to miss all through my childhood. (Brian had been meaning to watch it with me, but he grew up with 24-hour marathons of it on TNT, so he'd never quite been able to work up much enthusiasm to rent it.) While I will happily agree with him that it's not a great movie, watching it half-blitzed on excellent cognac with a whole group of folks cackling equally loudly at poor Ralphie is possibly the ideal way to enjoy it. Especially when you have a husband to drive you home.
We did get home, and opened our presents; I got Brian a lot of silly toys from ThinkGeek, including a cuddly Portal turret to go with the cuddly Endeavour shuttle he got at the California Science Center (how did I forget to mention that we went to see Endeavour while we were in LA?), and he got me a couple of books and a lovely new shirt. The standout gift, though, had to be the gorgeous wine stopper our landlords gave us - it has a sculpture of a copper butterfly with the most gorgeous cloisonne work. My favorite kind of art: gorgeous, functional, and likely to get a goodly amount of use.
For Christmas Day, we invited our friends Evan and Michelle over to hang out while Brian made an amazing ham dinner. I even used a tablecloth and set the table and everything - I was a little surprised to find that over the years we've managed to accumulate some lovely Christmas dishes, nice glassware, candles, and a centerpiece. It's like we have an actual household with nice holiday things! Not that I'm complaining; mostly I was just a bit surprised, as I've never really set out to accumulate special china or what have you.
Now the friends have gone (taking some leftovers with them, thankfully), and the house is quiet once more. I feel like there should be softly falling snow outside, though of course there isn't (it's 46 degrees out, after all). And I feel...not let down, exactly. But contemplative.
Honestly, I've always found the tail end of Christmas to be a far more contemplative/wistful time than New Year's. New Year's is exciting; it's the beginning of another cycle, full of all sorts of possibilities. Christmas, especially the end of Christmas...it's another year done with. Everything important, all the big milestones and events and plans, are over. You're just in that strange week-long limbo until the calendars all tick over and you can start something new.
(Now that I think on it, it's always felt odd to me, that week between Christmas and New Year's. Poised between two stages, as it were. I'm almost certain I've read about various indigenous cultures that had terms for that state of in-betweeness, often with rather interesting beliefs about it - a child who had reached their age of majority but not yet completed their rite of passage into adulthood, for instance, was in some cultures thought to be without a soul (having given up their childhood soul but not yet gained their adult one). I remember as a kid thinking that this last week of the year felt oddly...empty, somehow. Like a held breath, just waiting for the right moment to let it all out.)
It's been a good year in many, many ways. Brian and I have managed to get better at communicating and to improve on more than a few issues in our relationship. I bought a guitar and have been learning to play it (although it seems weird to think that I've been playing for less than a year; it's really felt more like I've always been a guitarist, and just been on break for a while, and am reminding myself how it all goes again). I traveled to the East Coast for the first time, and spent some time with a good friend while also meeting the nifty people he lives with/around. I auditioned for a prestigious music school, despite it being [a] scary as hell, [b] quite a bit of effort and [c] a long shot anyway. I went back to Alaska and saw people I miss greatly, while also confirming my hunch that, frankly, I've outgrown the place.
But I think I'm ready to move on. This next year promises to be interesting, though so far it's been coy as to the details. And the only way to find them out, really, is to go forward.
Onward and upward...
