Archive for December, 2007
It was pointed out to me recently that I may have an inner ear infection. That may be true. That may very well be a huge factor in everything I am about to say. In fact, I think I have inner ear infections a lot. I hear a lot of inner blubbing and sometimes I feel like a river is running in there. Sometimes it feels like a river of nails. Especially when it hits the boulder that is my jaw bone and the nails all go over the jaw bone at various angles in the rushing current and I hold the sides of my face with great force while I cry out in pain.
But all that is beside the point, really. The point is that I feel like I am floating. Often. And I perceive everyone around me to be floating as well. Many times I feel as though I am moving through life in a dream. Only it’s not a dream. I am semi-aware of that fact and I try to remind myself that I am awake sometimes. But sometimes I just go with the flow. I perceive myself as moving very slowly. One foot in front of the other, turn the corner, move my head up, blink, look to the left, blink. Sometimes the blinks last long enough to get a short nap during the time that the eyelids are down. Sometimes I see people looking at me when I am outside of my house and I believe that I must have as great of an effect on them as they do on me. But this is probably due to a grossly exaggerated awareness problem that I have. But people everywhere affect me greatly. And to think that I could go completely unnoticed even though my noticing of them is huge…well that’s incomprehensible to me. How could they not notice me? I’m floating. And my movements are all in slow motion, which means when I turn around, my hair flies gently and magically in an arc around my head. I would notice that on anyone else. I’m sure of it.
Sometimes I think maybe it’s not such a good idea to drive when you’re a floater. I look around at all people in cars around me and I remember that everyone everywhere has something. Something like a teenage daughter or an aging parent or grandparents that they wish they had more time with or the stress of not knowing what to eat for dinner tonight or a love that causes their aching heart to reveal itself all over their face or a numbness that looks like emptiness or just a longing for something more. Sometimes I feel dizzy when I drive.
Sometimes my eyes don’t feel like they can look any more directions or gaze on any more beauty or hold any more pain. It scares me sometimes to let people look into my eyes. Surely they can all see the reflection of my soul in there? Maybe nobody does. That’s a thought to make a person think.
I think often of sunrises and sunsets and I long to take them in more often – both of them for different reasons. Sunrises feel crisp and hopeful. Sunsets feel gentle and romantic. Sunrises make me breathe faster. Sunsets make me breathe deeper. Nobody needs to say a thing when the sun is rising. Solitude is invigorating. Easy conversation over food and drinks is perfect when the sun is setting. The company of fellow floaters is comforting. Everything in between the sunrise and sunset is just noise, really. Mostly it’s all a wonderful, life-giving, love-creating noise. But the noise is never helpful in grounding my flighty, fleety, floaty self.
Sometimes I just long for noiselessness.
My house is a mess.
The living room is no longer a living room, but a huge conglomeration of all different sizes of bedrooms. There are about twenty beds set up in there, ranging in size from little girl size all the way down to stuffed animal size. Each bed has its own bedside lamp too. And glass of water.
I’ve eaten so much food that I can’t tell what’s good and what’s not anymore. None of my clothes fit. But I just keep eating.
I do know that the food I had on Christmas Day was good though. Mmmmm. We went to our favorite new Greek restaurant down the street that has only been open for two weeks. They opened on Christmas Day just for us and our friends and fed us an incredible meal. I’m not even kidding. And I didn’t have to wash one dish.
We succeeded at getting one gift for each girl and that’s it. I can’t say the same for other people though. As you can see from the picture of the tree below, we have some wonderfully loving people in our lives who are excellent gift-givers.
I watched The Bourne Ultimatum, Hairspray, Stardust and The Nativity Story. All good. I lost a game of Monopoly that lasted two days and was queen for a round in Mao. I got to hear “Leslie is Queen” at least six times in six minutes, which is more satisfying than you can possibly imagine.
Although we had less family around this year than we have ever had, we are more surrounded by love than we have ever been. I am thankful and my heart is overwhelmed.
I just don’t care about the messy house right now.
One would think that after a certain number of years of curling one’s hair with a curling iron, one would learn how to curl one’s bangs without burning one’s forehead, wouldn’t one? But one would be wrong. Because a certain someone that I know burns one’s forehead at least once a week. I wonder why one is unable to remember from week to week that when curling the bang area, one must keep hot iron at a safe distance from skin? Skin is not meant to be curled. Skin burns and then peels.
One would also think that when driving one’s children to school every single day, that one would not drive over the same curb every single time when one turns a certain corner. I know this one person who does this. Beware, in case one thinks driving over curbs is fun. One’s husband might not find such humor in it when replacing one’s tires on a yearly basis.
Does that make me a bad citizen? I don’t know. I was watching the news this morning and they were reporting (with quite a bit of hushed alarm in their voices) that retailers are worried. People aren’t spending enough on this, the week before Christmas. It’s a sign of a bad economy, they say. As I sit here with a throbbing head, watery eyes, stuff dripping uncontrollably out the front of my nose and down the back of my throat, wanting to scream (if my voice could go that high) when I think about the Christmas shopping I have left to do…my first thought is “Good. I hope nobody else buys one more thing and our entire economy goes down the toilet.” What’s the worst that could happen? I don’t know if I really want to know the answer to that question. But the insanity would stop, right? I just can’t figure out why we all feel so compelled to buy all these gifts with money we don’t have for people that already have way too much stuff. I’m trying to start a revolution here. I guess maybe it will just be a revolution of one. But I don’t care. I’m buying one gift for each of my kids and one thing for each of their stockings. And a little something for my nephews too. And that’s it. No more. We’ll spend the holiday with family and friends that we love and we’ll eat good food and we’ll look at our pretty white lights sparkling all over my house that remind me of the way that the stars shone on the night of our Savior’s birth. And we’ll worship. To heck with the economy.
On much nicer note, we finished up with the last of the Christmas concerts this week. Callie had her first choir concert as a middle schooler. She even surprised us by being listed as a percussionist on one of the songs, starting out the song and keeping the rhythm throughout on the tambourine. She did a wonderful job.
This past week was really a week. If ever there was a week that could be called a week, this was the one for me. We had two choir concerts, two choir tour days (outside in the cold rain), bought a real Christmas tree for the first time in our whole marriage, painted my kitchen purple and white and tried to do a million other little things, but didn’t succeed at getting even ten of them done. I am really, really sore. All of my muscles hate my stupid kitchen cabinets. Those cabinets still need two more coats of paint. I said the word “stupid” a whole lot when I was painting those stupid things. I’m afraid I’ve grown to hate them so much that I’ll never want to go in my kitchen again. But I have to say that I had some great conversation on Wednesday when dear Mackenzie came over all day to help paint. We sure talked about a lot. And then the next day, dear Certain Person came over and helped put things back in my cabinets while I was scrambling around getting ready for Sadie’s second concert. Thanks, Certain Person. I sure am blessed.
I am trying not to be a grinch this Christmas. I really am. Some might say that I’m not trying too hard, but those people probably don’t know too much.
Here are some pictures from Sadie’s two choir concerts last week. She had her first ever solo, which Wilmar was so kind to make a video of for us. I really am grateful for the video because at the time of her actual singing it, my heart was swelled with so much pride that I think it affected some of my hearing muscles. So it was fun to watch the video with my hearing muscles working properly. The sound is not that great in the school cafeteria, but the video is fun. Thanks Wilmar! (AKA Soy)
Being too busy is one of the loneliest feelings I know. I hate it with my whole heart. It’s lonely because there’s all this stuff going around in my head all the time, all the time. And the stuff won’t shut up, which makes me have to be in there with it. Sometimes I’d like to share it with someone because that would make me feel better. But I always either feel like everyone else probably has their own stuff going around in their own heads and they probably don’t need to add mine to it, or that it can’t be spoken until it makes sense, which it never does, because I can’t get any of it figured out or prioritized or thrown away or whatever….so it stays in there. Unresolved and incomplete. And loud. I would even call it incandescent, if only that made sense. Because I really like that word.
Being too busy doesn’t really include all the stuff I’m doing. Because the stuff I’m doing is great. In fact, we just had a wonderful dinner with wonderful friends that we haven’t spent time with in far too long. It’s the stuff I NEED to do that can’t ever get done. That’s where the loneliness is. It’s all mine and nobody else’s and I don’t know how to do it or what to do with it or how to make the world stand still so I can go to a beach for a couple of hours. And watch the sunset.
I’m not completely alone though. I think there’s this man in my head driving a team of horses and cracking a whip, because my head hurts like a son of a gun. I think that man is shouting “Kee Yaw” whenever he cracks his whip. Which reminds me of “kiosk”. Which reminds me of a mall where people are doing Christmas shopping, which is the LAST thing I want to add to my list of things in my head. Maybe the man cracking the whip is Santa Claus and it’s not really horses, but reindeer. Whoever he is, I wish he’d stop. He’s hurting my head. Some people out there might like to take this opportunity to tell me to stop drinking coffee. They might like to relate my headaches to caffeine. Don’t even go there, people. Just stop that train before you even get on it because me and the man in my head are not going to buy that ticket.
Don’t worry; I’ll join the land of the living again sometime soon. In the meantime, I just feel compelled to let everyone know that I’m really busy, which means I’m really lonely. And being lonely is okay, every once in a while. Especially for someone like me, who really likes the idea of crying and tries to do it often. I don’t always succeed at it, but I still like the idea of it. Not like I want to add that to my list of things to do tonight, though.
I wish I knew some good lonely songs. I’d like to listen to some right now.