December 21, 2004 As It Comes

I am absolutely gobsmackedly tired right now. Sunday night, I could not sleep one wink. I don't know if it was the coffee I had or what. I was up all night. It was like the bad old days. I watched High Art, which was actually pretty good. It was weird to see Mrs. J.M. Barrie in love with Leslie from The Breakfast Club, but it worked. Yesterday I had a bit of a profanity-laced meltdown at work based on some complications with our project for some needy children, but I decided to be Zen about it and trust that it will all work out. Earlier this morning was when we sorted through all the gifts and decided who gets what -- which would be kind of a nightmare under the best conditions and since I only slept for about three hours last night I was a little deranged but was able to channel my inner conductor and I think it went pretty smoothly. But last night's sleep deprivation was not insomnia-induced but great date-induced so who's to complain? All I have to say about it is that any date that involves Vietnamese food, giggles, jokes, songs, hot chocolate, riding a carousel, aimless wandering through trees full of Christmas lights, hand holding, standing in the middle of a psychedelic lit-up mushroom display circle, talking about dealbreakers and litmus tests in relationships, going out for beers, getting creamed at Ms. Pacman, talking about grandparents, families, and siblings, a grey cat purring on your lap, having Coldplay and Elvis Costello played and sung for you, talking about exes and Desiderata and agnosticism, dramatic recitations in unison of the lyrics to "Thunder Road," and some kissing? That is the kind of date that you should all try to have as soon as possible. Of course, because I am Eliza and nobody else, I put not faith in anything, even a good date, but I am trying to enjoy it as it comes. And if it doesn't come, well, I've survived worse. Haven't we all survived so much already? And on the way to the city I sang the soundtracks of tick, tick ... boom! and Cabaret until I was hoarse. And I heard that on Christmas we might have snow flurries. And today it is 70 degrees. And I am delirious and I just stripped off my wool turtleneck and I am in a t-shirt and flip flops and my sister is riding a sled on her 28th birthday and my brother is probably already drunk on his 21st birthday and everyone is coming home. And Audra McDonald is singing "White Christmas" and it is giving me chills. ::: About this time in ... 2003 12/20: Suffice it to say that right now I'm listening to Billy Boyd sing "The Steward of Gondor," and it's filling my scroogey little heart with longing and a sick and randy mirth. 2001 12/21: He is beautiful and I love him and I cannot fucking believe he is eighteen years old and doing shots onstage and possibly even having sexual relations. 12/19: My thoughts of you are song lyrics. 2000 12/21: I love a lot of songs, but the ones that bring me back to people and places I've loved and that I remember, that somehow help me to find parts of myself that I fear that I've lost -- those are the songs I love the most. get notified. journal archives © Copyright 2004 elb