icebluenothing: (Default)
After five days of being trapped in SIXBOX -- those of you who've been there know it's at the bottom of a steep driveway, and is therefore damn near impossible to walk out of if there's snow and ice -- I decided I was getting out of there if it killed me.

SIXBOX is less than habitable right now. The carpet in the dining room was torn up after the flooding, leaving cold bare concrete; I've taken everything off the walls, getting ready to paint; I've torn out my crappy old bookshelves so I can paint that wall, too, and replace them with something better, and consequently, there's an enormous pile of books in the middle of the floor; all the rest of my belongings are scattered around in disarray; and I haven't really tried to keep the place clean otherwise, because Jesus, why bother? So it looks kind of like London after the Nazis were done with it. And with the piles of snow outside and the overall feeling of isolation, I was beginning to feel like the 'BOX had turned into the Overlook Hotel. (If my cat had started talking to his finger, then I would know I was in trouble.)

(Oh, also, my job would really like to have me come into the office one of these days. Apparently, my boss wants me there badly enough that he said he'd pay for a hotel room if I got stuck on the East side -- which, yeah, is exactly how I want to spend Xmas Eve. What do I look like, Bob Cratchit?)

So, yeah. Getting the hell out of Dodge. There's supposed to be even more snow tonight/tomorrow morning, and if I didn't want to be stuck there during Xmas, I figured this might be my last chance. *dramatic music*

One of my neighbors saw me heading determinedly toward my car, and asked in horror, "You're not trying to get out, are you?" Apparently, he had tried earlier this evening. Shoveling himself out, maneuvering out of his space, trying to get up the hill, burning rubber, failing, and maneuvering back into his space took approximately an hour and a half.

I ignored his doomsaying and piled my car with food and Xmas presents, and took a snow shovel to its exterior. Never had to do that before.

God bless my little Subaru. I might miss my truck sometimes -- okay, often -- but it never could have made it out of the driveway in these conditions. The Subaru, with its low center of gravity, and its all-wheel drive, had a couple of minor false starts, but otherwise managed it just fine. That was, as I knew it would be, the worst part. Streets were not terrible and the freeway was pretty clear, so I made it to the U-District just fine. I'm meeting Ahna here at the Sureshot, and we're gonna go have dinner at a restaurant, so I can eat something that didn't come out of a can. I can't wait. I'll be staying at her place tonight, natch. It'll be nice to have someone around who can do more than meow.

My family have postponed their celebrations until the weekend, so I'm going to actually get to spend Xmas with Ahna for the first time. That kinda makes all this worth it.

Oh, yes, and to everyone who gave me their address so I could send them Xmas cards -- I'm so sorry, but I just haven't had a chance to mail them; I'm sure you understand. I will almost certainly be making them out on Xmas day and sending them out on Boxing Day.
icebluenothing: (Default)
My family has a tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve, and the rest on the Day. Said present is usually something quite inconsequential. This year, it was something I really liked and am excited about. You'll see it when you come to New Year's, ask me about it.

The rest of my presents today were actually also surprisingly decent, and I didn't get anything that made me shudder, which is a little miracle.

And now it's snowing -- ! It's snowing on Christmas day for the first time I can remember since I was little!

It's been a damn fine day. If [ profile] windbourne were here, it would be even better. If my dad were here, it'd be perfect. But I'll take it. Oh yes.
icebluenothing: (Default)
Gaaaah! Okay, I knew they were opening a new Goodwill store right here in Shoreline, just four miles away from my house, and not even two miles from [ profile] windbourne's house -- over 40,000 square feet, the "second largest" Goodwill store, in fact (don't know whether they mean in Washington or nationally) -- but I didn't know they were already open!

They've been open for three days and I haven't been there yet! I would surely have added it to yesterday's itinerary of thrift stores if only I had known. Why doesn't anyone tell me these things??

In other news, I just overheard the following exchange at the grocery store:

"God bless you!"
"You, too! Happy Holidays!"

.... I know these are sensitive times, but you know, I would think, if someone has just said "God bless you," it's probably okay to just go ahead and wish them a Merry Christmas. I'm just sayin'.


Dec. 24th, 2003 01:52 pm
icebluenothing: (xmas)
The gifts are all bought and made and waiting to be wrapped. I see my family in just a few hours. I've been downloading and listening to my essential Christmas music -- Crosby and Bowie's Little Drummer Boy, Christmas Wrapping, Fairytale of New York.

But I don't think Christmas is coming.

I haven't been able to write about this yet. Now I have to.


I saw an old friend the other day, one of my best. Corey Holmes. I hadn't seen her in about thirteen, fourteen years. She came through my line at work and lit up when she recognized me.

I had to ruin the moment, of course. It was necessary, turning that beautiful look of pure joy to one of horror in seconds.

I had to tell her Jeanette was dead.


Do you remember your first kiss?

No, think back -- do you really remember it? Do you remember where you were, how you were standing, if they closed their eyes, the angle of your two bodies intersecting. The color and quality of the light. The scent of their body, the taste on your lips?

I do. It was more than half my life ago. It could have been yesterday.

I was madly in love with [ profile] songhawk once, when we were little better than children, and I remember that kiss and all the breathless stolen moments that followed.

I threw her away, one day, for the sake of someone I thought I loved better. I didn't know anything.

We never would have made it. I know that. Several people have told me that over the years, not least of all Jeanette herself, for all kinds of reasons, not the least of them being her devotion to Christ and my agnosticism. And I can't regret the loves we each found in our lives. But leaving her was a mistake, and I couldn't help but wonder sometimes, if I had my life to live over --

I don't know. I still don't know anything.


She was supposed to be home soon. She'd moved to Texas, for the sake of her husband and child, but was supposed to be home for Christmas, you see.

She'd always been asthmatic. When flu turned to pneumonia, it took her down in a day. They had her on an artificial lung, and they restarted her heart twice, but. She died on Tuesday, December 16th, at four in the morning, before her mother could reach her to say goodbye.


I don't have any of her letters. I gave them up a couple of years ago. She had terrible handwriting, you see. Only wrote in pencil, when we were teenagers. So these letters, folded and kept, had faded to illegibility, so I reluctantly got rid of them. I shrugged it off at the time; it didn't matter. I was more interested in our future as friends than I was in our past.

Now our past is all I have, and I went through my keepsakes looking to see if there was anything, a note, a scrap, I might have overlooked, any piece of paper that might remember the touch of her hand the way my skin does. There wasn't anything.

There were pictures. Too few of them, but there were pictures, back from when it was always springtime. There's one in particular, precious and clear, of the two of us looking into each other's eyes as if there isn't anything else in the world.

I thought of scanning it in so you could see it.

But I'm not going to. It's mine.


At her going-away party, before she left for Texas, I had the weirdest feeling, in the back of my mind, like I wasn't going to see her again.

I ignored it. I was being ridiculous -- of course she'd come back up here for a visit, or I'd go down there someday. Something.

No more somedays. But I look back on that going-away party, and I can't think of anything I wish I'd done or said different. Maybe hugged her a little longer.

I could have been a better friend to her, I suppose, over the years. Spent more time with her. But there's nothing we left unsaid. I'm grateful for that.


The past week has been strange. I've curled up crying at no provocation; I've forced a smile on my face for my job; I've screamed out my anger at God; I was out with friends at the club on Friday and drank and laughed and kissed all the pretty girls, and oh, how I needed it. Every little moment seems knife-edge important. And I suppose it is.

Yesterday was good. Yesterday I arranged with Corey to get together with me and [ profile] kickaha, someone else who'd been wondering for years what the hell ever happened to her. I didn't tell him who we were meeting. It was a surprise, a gift, maybe the best one I'll give this year.

But today Christmas is really here, and I don't want it. Jeanette was going to be home for Christmas. This can't be it.


There must have been a last kiss. I don't remember it.


At the end of Little Drummer Boy, Bing Crosby says to David Bowie, "It's a pretty thing, isn't it?"

Thank you, God, or whoever's listening. Thank you for all the pretty things.


Dec. 27th, 2002 09:13 pm
icebluenothing: (Default)
Christmas just doesn't feel to me like it ever ended this year. I'm still listening to Christmas music today.

So apparently there was a great big huge windstorm today. I love windstorms. I'm a little sorry I slept through it.

Up late last night. Had a good time. [ profile] retcon and [ profile] treebyleaf and I realized that we were unsatisfied with the Christmas dinners we'd had -- mine was a turkey dinner with the family, despite the continued efforts my father and I have made to try to convince my mother that we actually don't like turkey, and theirs was a last-minute slap-dash assortment of foods they assembled on realizing that they hadn't made any plans for Christmas dinner, so it seemed important to us to have a nice dinner on Boxing Day.

We ended up going to the new Olive Garden at Northgate North with our friend [ profile] lokheed (who, I must mention had some lovely things to say about us in his journal on Christmas). Took a while for us to get a waiter to come over, but after we pointed this out to them, we got great service for the rest of the meal, a personal apology from the manager, and free desserts. I almost felt a little bad we'd said anything in the first place, but it was really nice of them.

From one horrifying architectural monstrosity to the next, I headed out after dinner to the Experience Music Project to see a free concert -- local goth bands Abney Park, Doll Factory, and The Sins. Couldn't talk Riff or treebyleaf into coming along, as they both had to work in the morning and were both exhausted already anyway.

Concert was a lot of fun. Saw several seagoths, although not as many as I'd expected. I thought The Sins were, err, pretty awful, actually. They have an amazing electric violin player, but he wasn't enough to make up for the shouty screechy lead singer. (Any Sins fans out there: I'm sorry. No, I don't mean I'm sorry for offending you -- I mean, I'm actually sorry you're fans.) Doll Factory and Abney Park were both excellent, though. I'd heard some of their music before, but it was much better to hear it live -- so much energy.

So, okay. There was this girl.

Read more... )


Dec. 24th, 2002 11:51 am
icebluenothing: (Default)
By the way, I keep forgetting to mention, but Fluffybunny Radio has been playing some great Christmas songs. Fire up Winamp and tune in, won't you?


Mar. 6th, 2002 12:38 pm
icebluenothing: (Default)
I've just finished sorting out my Christmas stocking.

Yes, in March.

See, my family has this weird tradition with Christmas "stockings" -- we don't have the normal stocking, you see, but a bag of loot the size of a pillowcase, filled with trinkets and ephemera. Everything from candy (always welcome) and gift certificates down to, well, bars of hotel soap and individual soy sauce packets. Going through it all is a daunting task and isn't terribly rewarding. No one in my immediate family seems to still enjoy this tradition -- except my mother. And since she does, we keep doing it.

(Actually, I suppose my sister still gets some enjoyment out of it, in a perverse game of escalation and retaliation. Similarly, my father has admitted to taking the items he received in the previous year's stocking and distributing them to everyone else's stocking.)

So I finally sat down with the most recent stocking this morning and sorted everything out into three piles: Things I Kinda Want, Things That Might Possibly Be Useful to Someone Else (i.e., the charity pile), and Things That Are of No Conceivable Use to Anyone. Guess which pile was the largest?

At least it's out of my way, now. But I'd feel more of a sense of accomplishment from getting this done if I didn't know that there were still bags filled with previous years' stocking contents lurking in my closet somewhere, like unexploded mines.


Jan. 1st, 2002 10:08 pm
icebluenothing: (Default)
Wow, I haven't posted anything in my journal since Christmas Eve. I better catch up.

I've been busy having a fine holiday season. Let me tell you about it.

Read more... )


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