#200: New Year's Eve 2007

It's almost 2008 and I am writing my 200th post on this blog. Which seems like an awful lot of drivel to me. I started writing this three years ago when I was living in Boston, and here I am now, married and living in Chicago. A strange few years.
Bil and I didn't go home this year for the holidays--it's an expensive and lengthy process and he couldn't get the time off of work this year. We had a nice Christmas, but the whole time, I kept wondering what happened to my Christmas spirit. Normally, I really love Christmas -- I like decorating and wrapping presents that I know people will enjoy, and I like putting together stockings for Bil and the cats (don't judge). I have been in quite a funk lately.... It's been a tough couple of months in many ways. Bil's great for putting up with my misanthropic desire to never leave the house. It's not that I don't love my friends; I do--they keep me sane--but I don't want to see anyone or do anything but sit around and knit and watch TV (don't judge!). And not working this past month hasn't helped the lack of communication with the outside world thing.
My whole family is up in the mountains this week, skiing and snowboarding. I really wish I could have gone up there with them. I really miss skiing. And my family. It's been a hard year.
And like every time the family goes up to the mountains to ski, there is a calamity. Last time, there was a huge blizzard that kept us all off the mountain and in our cabin for the entire week we were there. The time before, everyone was injured (except my mom and me because we're perfect).
I got a call from my mom last night. My youngest brother (only 14) broke his arm snowboarding. My brothers are prone to broken bones -- arms in particular. But this one was the worst I've seen in my family. "Seen?" you say. Yes... because my sister posted his x-rays on Facebook™ where they belong. This was his arm before the 2.5 hour surgery to insert pins into it (note the fracture):



He spend the night in the hospital. Poor kid. And now he's on Vicodin. Great.

So here's to a better year than last year. Please no death, no destruction, no crazy shit this year, please. Just onward and upward. and maybe grad school. Maybe.

That is all.

On Knitting and the Weather... oh, and Death.

I have taken up knitting. It's very calming and I love it. I love yarn, as those of you who might remember Mad Crochet D. might recall. I haven't crocheted in a while (read: a couple of months), but I have taught myself to knit via the interweb and I am in love. So much so that I knitted scarves and mittens for my entire family for Christmas this year. Because who in CA doesn't need a handknit superfine merino wool scarf in a pleasing rib pattern? In my defense, my whole family (except the two of us Chicago kids) is going skiing two days after Christmas... and skiing requires snow, and is therefore a cold sport, and ergo requires really obsessively warm handknit treasures. Right?

Mostly, this new knitting thing has been somewhat therapeutic for me. I have been pretty down as of late. My Nana's death hit me really hard, coupled with the death of a friend from high school literally the next day, the death of our pet betta fish, Bruce Lee, and the untimely demise of my car, Jane. Oh, and a lack of employment for a while. Note to parents out there who totally read this blog: if you find out via the internet that someone you think your kid might have known passed away suddenly and unexpectedly (as is often the case with people who are 26 years old), do your kid a favor and don't e-mail the obit to them; call them, please. E-mail is a shitty way to discover such a thing. Moving on.

Yesterday, there was a pleasant spring-like feel to the air (on the first day of winter... only in Chicago...). It was 50 degrees outside and totally t-shirt weather (which CA me still finds terribly funny). Gray and drizzly, yes, but warm, too. All of the mountains of snow that have adorned my fair street melted in the rain and warmth, which means that Christmas may not be white, but instead will be ugly, gray and brown. Ugh. Still waiting on that White Fucking Christmas..... grrr.

But today, today is brutally cold and windy. Don't believe me?

Then look at this:


That's the weather here, today. A mere 12-24 hours after 50 degree highs right here. Blast.

Enter depression.... but wait! What do I do every winter when I am freezing my warm-blooded California ass off in the northern regions of the country where they have Seasons (there are four, did you know? And none of them have the word "fire" in them!)? That's right, dear readers, I look up the weather in Barrow, Alaska, the United States' northernmost outpost of civilization, population: 4,065 cold, cold souls.


So, thank you, Barrow, for making me feel glad I'm here and not there. Here's to you! P.S. Now, I'll knit you a lovely warm scarf if you please don't die on me. Please?

That is all.