Heh. Well, I'm not quite sure what to do. I started a new blog elsewhere which has allowed me to become completely anonymous. But I'm hard-pressed to post the link here as I don't want those who are just googling me to find the new blog.
(I'm paranoid, I know. But I run a business and I've been getting more press lately. There is also one listing on Diarist.net that links to this blog via google search. I cannot get them to remove the listing to save my life.) So, if you'd like the URL of my new blog, you can email me using the link in the top-left column.
Aside from that, all is fairly well after a rocky few weeks. B and I leave for Hawaii in a week for a well-earned vacation. Oh, I cannot wait!
"When we walked the streets, bodies close together, arm in arm, hands locked, I was in such ecstasy I could not talk. The city disappeared, and so did the people. The acute joy of our walking together through the grey streets of Paris I shall never forget, and I shall never be able to describe it. We were walking above the world, above reality, into pure, pure ecstasy."
- Anais Nin
Happy New Year!
It's been kind of a non-event in our household. Sickness and teething abound. Baby C's two front teeth popped through on Thursday. They are so cute!
Overhead from the monitor in the nursery:
B to C: Charlie, your barn door is open! We better close it before your horsey gets out.
I'm telling you, some of the deepest and most felt smiles that have crossed my face this year came from listening to my hub talk to baby C. I absolutely love it.
And man, that kid is just sweetness and light combined. He makes my insides all gooey.
I've had years in the past where I've made long lists of resolutions and changes that I'd like to make. But a couple of years ago I began to avoid that trap. I'm barely keeping my head above water most weeks. So, I'm just going to keep on truckin' for the time being.
A few years back, I either read something in the New Yorker or some how stumbled across the story of Tobias Schneebaum. Maybe it was an NPR story. I don't know. I checked his "Keep the River on Your Right" out of the library. And while I was enjoying it, I don' t believe that I ever finished it.
I'd forgotten all about it when Tivo picked up a movie called, "Keep the River on Your Right." And sure enough, it was a documentary on Schneebaum going back to Peru, where he had basically left our society and joined up with a tribe of natives as an "anthropologist" 40 years ago. I put antropologist in quotes because he caught a lot of flack from the scientific communicty because he participated in life with the tribe. He had sexual relationships with members and partook in cannibalism in one instance.
The movie is really worth a rental. It's an amazing story. He's an amazing man. I'm sad to see that he died about a year and a half ago. He was in his mid-eighties.
Oh, and to top all of this off? He was a known painter and gay Jew who lived in Manhattan. It's a trip. Inspires me to engage more deeply in life.
So, I just went to Half.com and bought his book, "Keep the River on Your Right". And then I had to buy a bit more. Cause books are so damn cheap on Half.com. I broke down and bought Annie Leibovitz's new book for $45. I'm dying to see it. I also added another Rumer Godden book to my collection. And, my beloved Joan Didion, Play It As It Lays.
I snagged my mom's copy of The Jungle over Christmas. I'm 3/4 f the way through it. I believe I was in high school or even junior high when I read it last. Heartbreaking stuff. It made a big impression on me the first time I read it, even more so now that I live in Chicago and I am an adult. Should be required reading for all Americans.
I knitted my sister a tea cozy for Christmas. It turned out to be quite delightful. It had an eight ball motif. I finished it using a crochet stitch and wove in all my ends. With each stitch I knitted, I tried to feel my love for her despite all of the anger and resentment that I have held towards her over the past year.
You see, my sister, who is an odd duck, and oftentimes lives in her own little world ignoring the rest of us, skipped my sons bris when he was born last January. That after I explained the month before how important it was that we were all there. And she did not call to tell me that she was't coming. She just didn't show up. She didn't call after I had my emergency C-section. She didn't send flowers or a gift or an email. My mom brougt flowers and had signed my sister's name. Every gift that was supposed to be from my sister was signed in my mom's handwriting.
This is so hurtful to me. It breaks my heart. And I am so angry.
When C was two months old, she called out of nowhere to tell me that she had a new job possibility. And was all chipper and proud and acted as if nothing had happened. She still hadn't acknowledged my son's birth in any way. And I was cordial and wished her well. And then she had the nerve to ask what was wrong. And I unloaded.
How dare you not show up for your nephew's bris. How dare you not call to ask me how I was even once dring the entire pregnancy. And you have the nerve to call me and act like life is fine and you're just checking in?
Two words: Fuck You.
I tried to take the high road after I unloaded. I sent her flowers congratulating her on her opportunity. Nothing. Sent pictures of the baby. Nothing. She did not come to the shower my aunt threw for C and I last April. And skipped out on every family get together since. She had only met my son once when he went to stay w/ my mom and dad for a few days while B and I were off on business.
They were "sick" for Thanksgiving. But, did show up for Christmas. And it was awkward. And it was weird. But I tried to play it straight. To be kind. And give her a gift that I made with my own two hands, stitch by stitch. Each stitch containing my own prayer of love and forgiveness and struggle to accept her as she is.
Not much progress was made. But at least we were in the same room. And were civil. And she giggled at my silly, lovely baby.
Hanukkah was better than Christmas, thank god. I love the festival of lights. I love the Menorrah. I love the food. And the gathering of our friends. I love the blackberry pearl my hub bought me. I love the Hanukkah prayer and the story of cleaning the temple and only having enough oil for one day, however, it lasted for eigt.
Miracles come in all shapes and forms. If only I can conjure one in my heart to accept my sister as she is and to let go of what I think I need from her.
Fuck the Christmas Carolers.
This is the third year they've completely offended me. On the face of it, I have no problem with people standing outside of my house and seranading me. But their song choice needs help.
Last night while sitting on the couch enjoying my Hanukkah candles, I hear clomp, clomp, clomping up the steps followed by the doorbell. The singing starts and I quickly realize that they are singing, "The First Noel." I'm overcome with a sudden urge to grab my menorrah, run to the window and display it to make them buzz off. Because not everyone in the world is a Christian, you know.
But, I don't. "It's not that big of deal", I tell myself. "Let them do their thing."
But then comes the line, "Born is the King of Israel" and I'm fucking furious.
It takes a lot of nerve to come stand on my front lawn and sing to me about how your God is the king of Israel. I'm a Jew. Don't talk to me about Israel. Why can't they sing about fucking Frosty? Sing about baby Jesus. I don' t care. Just back off Israel.
Anyway, I'm sit and fume and B walks in and I tell him that I'm going to shove the Menorah up in the window and he says, "Go ahead".
My husband never, NEVER condones any kind of agressive behavior like that. And I'm full of it, to tell you the truth and have to repress it a lot so as to stay in his good graces. So, I make a grab for the Menorah, run for the door and am pissed off because they're already at the neighbors house.
So, I missed my chance at husband-sanctioned caroler abuse. Oh well. There's always next year.
Cripes, my mouth still hurts. Go back to the oral surgeon tomorrow for a follow up. Bluh.
Hanukkah begins tomorrow at Sundown and I am really excited. Hanukkah was so special to me last year. I was incredibly pregnant and every night I would sit and knit and stare at the lit candles. So beautiful.
We're having a small party on Saturday night. I went shopping and bought gifts for the family and, of course, baby C tonight. I'm staying up now wrapping his gifts. I also bought new curtains for the living room. Feeling good about them. I actually think they are the exact curtains that Red Betty has in her living room! What was that about imitation being the highest form of flattery.
I've been saying it for months, but OH MY GAWD does our house need a good painting. I LOVE all of our new living room stuff, but the cream colored wall is just NOT cutting it anymore. The whole thing will feel much more pulled together once we get that done. So, I believe that will be our goal for January.
I felt panicked shopping this evening. There is something about walking out of a store with a huge cart of stuff that makes my heart race these days. And, it's not really about the money. It's more about consumption. We are a society of consumers. We consume to the point of being gluttonous. I keep thinking more and more about what I need in my life and what I don't. I'm starting to make an effort to pare back. And while I was buying gifts for others, plus the curtains and some new dishes for entertaining, just pushing a heaping cart around made me feel like a glutton.
This is also coming about because of the insane amount of toys available to buy BAby C. My family didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up. I have affluence now that I never imagined. And so my urge is to splurge on my baby boy. But it's starting to get to me. Just how many toys that coo and beep and roar does he need? I don't want to lead a life of gluttony. And I want to teach him the value of wanting something and working hard to get it. Not just indulging your every whim because you can.
He's eleven months old now and he's becoming more and more conscious every day. This is his first Hanukkah and while he certainly won't remember it or get much out of it, I want to do it by the book. I want to make the latkes and light the candles and tell the story of Hanukkah, the miracle of the oil, so that we plant a seed as a family. We do these rituals because we are Jewish and a family.