chitter chatter

apparently when the rest of the world takes blogging breaks thanks to the holidays, i become my most verbose. go figure.

i'm back in san francisco now. it's raining here. thankfully, i have a powerful new umbrella from my sister to keep me dry!

christmas this year was particularly nice - even though we were missing our littlest one (he spent the holiday in colorado with his new wife and her family).

i think i like having christmas on a sunday. i liked waking up and going to church, singing christmas hymns, and dressing up nicely for the day... i liked eating breakfast around noon, and opening presents all afternoon, right up until dinner time. there was something nice about the slow, laziness of it all.

though i have to say, it made me sad not having my brother there. and it made me sad knowing conor was out here all alone. christmas is a time to be with lots of people who love you.

it also made me sad knowing my friends' family is suffering during an otherwise joyous season. i don't like being sad for others, it makes it hard to appreciate all the good things i have before me. i think i feel too much guilt at my happiness, like it isn't fair somehow that everything should be good and normal for me.

i just started (and finished) the book 'the secret life of bees' on the plane home last night. sometimes i feel like the character may, in that the book - the way the world can affect her so deeply. i have to put up a shell so that the smallest pain doesn't sting like a murderous blow.

i hate that the littlest scratches can crack the shell and set me off. the thing that really bothers me isn't what makes me break. it's something stupid that is often unrelated. it's like the first time i was embarrased of crying, in fourth grade, when i didn't cover my textbook by my teacher's deadline. it wasn't that i got in trouble that made me cry, or that my book had no cover. i cried only because i disappointed myself for forgetting something. for not being reliable or perfect.

same thing with the present -- i disappoint myself that i don't know how to make things better for other people. i want them to know life can be richer, fuller, happier, but despite all my good intentions, expressing it always comes out wrong. i make things worse instead. i upset myself for messing up.

and so, i just build the wall higher. if i don't get too close, i won't try as hard to improve the things around me, which means i won't offend.

someday when i'm rich enough, i'll open up my wings and take care of everything like i want to. no more screwing it up with words, miscalculated intentions, or ill-expressed emotions. it will just be better because i'll give the gifts that enable things to be better, that empower people i care about to be better off. i don't want anything in return except for sadness, anxiety and pain to go away forever.