Trippy

http://www.poodwaddle.com/clocks2.htm

oh, the world.

Do you feel?

sometimes it hurts to think. usually it hurts to feel. i think there are people in this world that feel things just a little bit deeper than the rest of the world. emotional paper cuts feel like deep wounds, and spiritual fender benders feel like head on collisions. and giggles are more like exploding belly aching laughter and rainbows make them exclaim at the incredible existence that is creation.

some of us, are just hypersensitive to the world around us, so much so that it engulfs our every thought. as a little girl, i thought everyone was like this, that everyone wondered and marveled at the complex society of red ants, and was furious with bumble bees for stinging people and thus killing themselves, because how could they let down their friends like that and dont they have an important job to do for the queen?

its complicated, this whole being a person thing, and im not sure we'll ever get used to it. i decided many years ago, when reading The Great Gatsby in sophomore english, that it was better to be naive and unobservant.
"I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool... You see, I think everythings terrible anyhow... And I know. I've been everywhere and seen everything and done everything."
and
"He's so dumb he doesn't know he's alive."

and i envied that, because i only had two options- desperately seek to numb my brain and its thoughts and feelings that i can never keep up with, or feel- which would ultimately kill me. and there i sat, thinking about how complicated it all was, this human thing. there are really only two kinds of people in the world, those who feel the weight and those who don't. F. Scott Fitzgerald gets it. he feels it. he knows what its like to have one foot in fire and the other in ice, this twisted reality where we look in the mirror and know exactly what we look like, but turn around and forget.

to me, you, and f. scott fitzgerald, let us not get carried away with mirrors and weight and brokenness and joy- lets just feel the love, man, feel the love.

Baby, stop acting like a freak

My husband is hands-down the best person ever at cheering me up and oh, Lord how did I get so lucky to have underwear dance shows and a twelve minute song-writing session from the world's best shower vocalist, belting his newest hit, "Can you hear me babygirl, I love you baby girrrrrrrrrrl"and when that doesn't work he tries the old fashioned approach-
"Baby, stop acting like freak."

And it works, instead of being frantic, and anxious, and worried, and crabby, im back to my usual giggly self. I really don't give him enough credit. I don't think any of us give each other enough credit.

labels, expectations, conformity

Does anyone else get as much joy out of the new Jockey commercial as I do?
Has anyone else turned to their husband and said, "I just saw an underwear commercial that reminded me of you?" (which, i think, is far better than the line he used on me-I saw a kangaroo and thought of you)

see for yourself, aside from my recent omar-inspired love for curly mop-top haircuts, this commercial is actually pretty legit:
http://www.jockey.com/feelfree

Who needs Tivo when you can be inspired by underwear ads? Not me.

On the same note, today we put up our BRAND NEW STATE OF THE ART FOUR HUNDRED DOLLAR PRE-LIT GLORIOUS CHRISTMAS TREE. (that we happened to buy from Michael's last March and paid $36 dollars for at their NINETY PERCENT OFF SALE...anybody who knows me knows that I am the most frugal, but best shopper in the world- just one of my many useful talents along with being remarkably good at Scrabble, restaurant kids menus and Super Mario Kart). Moving on...

I'm in a desperate search for the meaning of Christmas. My church is doing a series on the Advent Conspiracy; basically that it makes Jesus sad that we spend his birthday maxing out our credit cards and buying overpriced crap to show people that we love them instead of giving from our hearts and spending time with people and giving to people what they really need which is love and sometimes food and sometimes shelter and sometimes clothes, but mostly love.

I did a small take on this last year when I bought more than half of my friends goats, families of ducks, and help for sexually exploited children (for gifts that are AWESOME, like these, go to http://www.worldvision.org/), and this brought us all a lot more joy than a vanilla scented bath set ever would have. So I get that. I get the anti-consumerism approach to Christmas, and I know that God does too.

I just love Christmas, and I want to get back to basics with the whole Christmas thing. I want to understand the meaning of Christmas. When my friend Zim went to Costa Rica, she came home with countless stories and one of many was the way Christians celebrated Christmas there- and ultimately it was with a menorah. Jesus celebrated Channukah, and Christmas was originally a Pagan holiday, so Omar and I went out and bought a Menorah from Walgreens and that was that. But im a sucker for eggnog, and tinsel, and the Gift of Lights, and parties and red velvet dresses and as usual, im stuck in the middle- this lovely luke-warm place in which half of my life looks the way i'd like it to and the other half is wandering around the sale rack at H&M.

May God bless you as you navigate through the discovery of the meaning of Christmas,