Wishes

Posted 10:16 PM by Michelle
The last five Christmases have begun to blur. Ever since Jordana and Tessa joined the family, the dynamic has shifted; they are a glue that bind us together in new ways, and I sometimes have a hard time distinguishing one year from another, at least since we all moved to New York. I remember our first New York Christmas, at Tessa's place on 8th Avenue, and I know that we went to Iowa once, and the farmhouse several times, but I'd have a hard time putting everything in chronological order.

I can't believe how different my life is today than it was a year ago when I climbed into bed to write a blog the night before Christmas. I made a Christmas wish last year- I just now remembered it- but instead, something entirely other came true. I guess I got the thing I most wanted, even if I didn't know it. I wanted a job that I loved, apparently more than I wanted anything else in my life. I have a lot to be thankful for, not the least of which is that not all of my wishes came true.

This will be the Christmas in Queens without mom. There is a lot of family missing this year, scattered in Texas, Utah, and California, but it is only the second Christmas I've not spent with my mom and Ian in 32 years. The other year was a horrid one in Kansas City when I was doing a rotten show that had a matinee on Christmas eve and on the 26th- I just couldn't get away.

I'm sleeping in my mom's room in Queens, and on the wall is the Rembrandt that has been in my family since I was a little kid... fittingly enough, it is De Heilige Familie bij avond- The Holy Family at Night. I wonder if the Ghosts of Williams Past will haunt me less when I start a family of my own. But for now, I sleep under a roof with Kent, Melissa, Sean Patrick, Lucas, Sean Charles, and Jordana, and I am thankful that we are all here, that Dad is safe in California, that Steve is happy to be in Utah, that Ian and Tessa and mom and Sandy are together- I am profoundly thankful that we have so much damn family, so many people who love us, that even scattered across the country we are all still with our tribe.

Sensibility be damned!

Posted 5:16 PM by Michelle
HAH! Take THAT! Yep, that's right, I'm going to New York a day early. Can I afford it? NO! Should I take the time off work? NO! Am I now happier than I've been all week? YAAAAY!

I just got the last seat on the afternoon Jet Blue flight to JFK. By midnight tomorrow, I will be freezing my ample ass off in New York. The change fee cost more than my ticket, but hell, I got a raise! I'll pay it off by June of next year! What, me worry?

Seriously, though, I've been suffering mightily this week, doing little more at work than organizing my inbox and trolling the net for grants, i.e., mind-meltingly boring hours that seem endless. I've just started work a new grant, so I'll do that tomorrow morning and then... guess what... GET ON A PLANE TO NEW YORK! Huzzah!

Homeless

Posted 10:10 PM by Michelle
There must be some correlation between what we do on a micro level versus what we feel should be done on a macro level. If I keep eating french fries, aren't I, in some way, giving the finger to the Everglades, or sticking said finger into the hole in the ozone and swirling it around to make it bigger? I can't bear how I'm treating myself any more than I can bear the current political goings-on, and yet, somehow I feel i'm to blame for all of it. I can't hardly even refer to, you know, he who shall not be named who runs our country, because it honestly makes the bile creep up my esophagus. What drives me to french fries- my hatred of him, or my hatred of myself? It's all very confusing. I'm acting out against something; I just wish I knew what it was so I could corner it, kick it's ass, and get back to my normal life. It's very confusing. Even if I knew what it was, how do I kick it's ass?

I had a remarkably successful evening of self-loathing last night. I am capable of shoving my foot so far down my throat that retrieving my shoe becomes impossible. I say the stupidest fucking things sometimes. These comments come from a horrible, defensive place, and I hate them. A colleague asked me an opinion of someone a few weeks ago, and I replied, "Well, she's not very smart". A month ago, another someone said she wanted to fix me up with her friend, but she was concerned that I was a wine geek and her friend didn't drink. Wanna know what I said? "Does he just not drink or is he a sober alcoholic?" Last night, one of my friends asked me why another one of my friends wanted to have dinner at an earlier time, and I replied, "Well, because we WORK for a living". All of these horrid responses come from my own ugly fears. It's fine to have ugly fears, but it's not fine to let their nasty twisted heads see the light of day in good company. I could go through and detail why these responses were so ugly, so vastly inappropriate, but that's not the point. The point is, sometimes I say really fucking stupid things, and I hate it.

Sometimes I eat french fries, and I hate it.

And sometimes I am still so fraught with sadness, with despair, at where our country is going, and who is at the helm, that i give up and think, "Well I might as forking well keep eating french fries, cuz it's just not going to matter." It's not like me to feel hopeless, but some of the choices I'm making are pointedly in that direction. I feel shame so deep, so wide, that sometimes, most times I don't want to leave my house. Because who could want what I am.