I'd forgotten that snow makes the world quiet
I hope that everyone had a wonderful Holiday. Congrats once again to banfennid and bloodthorn , I hope the second celebration was as fun as the first.
My Christmas was simple and fun, as is usual. We went into New York City on the 24th in the afternoon and managed to not make it into St. Patrick's for Mass, which is just as well, seeing as how my parents were the only ones even remotely interested in such sordid traditions as Church. We walked by the Rockefeller Center Tree and peeked in windows until the cold drove us indoors. My little brother's girlfriend came with us and I believe that she enjoyed herself, having grown up less than 45 minutes from the Big Apple and having NEVER SEEN the TREE! She has also been deprived of such great cultural icons as the Met, the Guggenheim, and the Cloisters Musuem, not to mention the Library and The Opera House... What is the point of living so near the Greatest City on Earth if you won't share with your children its greatest treasures? The only treasures this young lady knows are $695 shoes. *sigh*
After walking around a bit, we went a few minutes early to our dinner reservation at Tuscan Square. The food was excellent, and my father ordered 2 bottles of a wonderful white wine, which I've forgotten the name of. We usually go to Carmine's on Christmas Eve but my Mother wanted something more fancy. MORE fancy?? Ugh. Well, Tuscan Square was certainly fancy. I still like Good old Carmine's better. It has a much more festive atmosphere.
I must be getting old because when we returned from the city, my brother E and girlfriend K went off to get drunk and high somewhere and I went to a party with the parents. Then we went on the "light ride", and I actually enjoyed myself- anything but go home and do nothing. I don't remember going out to party with my friends on Christmas Eve. I think I thought my family actually wanted to be together, and that it would be inconsiderate to absence myself that evening. E. doesn't have that attitude, so the tradition of opening one family gift on Christmas Eve was ended.
Christmas day was nice- we always have a small gathering with my Nana and Papa and my parents' best friends' family. The Father of the family is one of my favorite people, and I always adore talking with him during the evening. I had a pang of regret that day as my Aunt Rose, whose son is in Iraq now, sent a gift for D. and I- it was a gift certificate to Pier 1. I wished he was there with me to open it.
These last three days we've been shopping. My gifts under the tree were sparce this year (read: gloves, a toothbrush, and chapstick) because my parents' plan was to provide me with work clothes which fit. It is really quite uncomfortable to be 25 and have your parents, BOTH of them, take you out shopping for two days straight. And then to have them pick up the bills. I have the very clear understanding that they are trying to morph me into something employable. Apparently I'm to get a haircut too. I feel 10 years old- like nothing I want or think or feel matters. I'd forgotten how small my family makes me feel. I used to think it was a problem in me, but, now, when I try to say "No Mom, I don't like that pink sweater" and she rebuttals by telling me I'm immature to disagree with her, I keep my mouth shut. In my own mind, there is no question of maturity, just of control, and of someone who is accustomed to being allowed to think that her world is reality, when that is painfully not so. It must be nice! And yet, I pity her.
My Mother drives around in her 2002 Range Rover talking about how "we" don't have all that much. I counter with stories of the people I've kept off the street, the neighbors I'd fed even when I couldn't feed myself. The families with nothing- even families together on the street. The dead bodies whose eyes lay open and even I did not have the courage to close them. The well educated, intelligent and ambitious person I know who work for $13 an hour in spite of a Master's Degree- and it took a year to even find THAT job. She honestly thinks that such a horrible reality only exists in California. Or somewhere "else"- the "other" who is unfortunate is not in her immediate reality- even as we pass by homeless people on the street. I think "we"- meaning her and my father-have plenty, and what's more, I feel that even before I came "home" I had a great deal to be thankful for. My New Year's resolution is to never forget the reality of this world, and to always be grateful for what I have- even when it isn't as much as I'd like.
My Christmas was simple and fun, as is usual. We went into New York City on the 24th in the afternoon and managed to not make it into St. Patrick's for Mass, which is just as well, seeing as how my parents were the only ones even remotely interested in such sordid traditions as Church. We walked by the Rockefeller Center Tree and peeked in windows until the cold drove us indoors. My little brother's girlfriend came with us and I believe that she enjoyed herself, having grown up less than 45 minutes from the Big Apple and having NEVER SEEN the TREE! She has also been deprived of such great cultural icons as the Met, the Guggenheim, and the Cloisters Musuem, not to mention the Library and The Opera House... What is the point of living so near the Greatest City on Earth if you won't share with your children its greatest treasures? The only treasures this young lady knows are $695 shoes. *sigh*
After walking around a bit, we went a few minutes early to our dinner reservation at Tuscan Square. The food was excellent, and my father ordered 2 bottles of a wonderful white wine, which I've forgotten the name of. We usually go to Carmine's on Christmas Eve but my Mother wanted something more fancy. MORE fancy?? Ugh. Well, Tuscan Square was certainly fancy. I still like Good old Carmine's better. It has a much more festive atmosphere.
I must be getting old because when we returned from the city, my brother E and girlfriend K went off to get drunk and high somewhere and I went to a party with the parents. Then we went on the "light ride", and I actually enjoyed myself- anything but go home and do nothing. I don't remember going out to party with my friends on Christmas Eve. I think I thought my family actually wanted to be together, and that it would be inconsiderate to absence myself that evening. E. doesn't have that attitude, so the tradition of opening one family gift on Christmas Eve was ended.
Christmas day was nice- we always have a small gathering with my Nana and Papa and my parents' best friends' family. The Father of the family is one of my favorite people, and I always adore talking with him during the evening. I had a pang of regret that day as my Aunt Rose, whose son is in Iraq now, sent a gift for D. and I- it was a gift certificate to Pier 1. I wished he was there with me to open it.
These last three days we've been shopping. My gifts under the tree were sparce this year (read: gloves, a toothbrush, and chapstick) because my parents' plan was to provide me with work clothes which fit. It is really quite uncomfortable to be 25 and have your parents, BOTH of them, take you out shopping for two days straight. And then to have them pick up the bills. I have the very clear understanding that they are trying to morph me into something employable. Apparently I'm to get a haircut too. I feel 10 years old- like nothing I want or think or feel matters. I'd forgotten how small my family makes me feel. I used to think it was a problem in me, but, now, when I try to say "No Mom, I don't like that pink sweater" and she rebuttals by telling me I'm immature to disagree with her, I keep my mouth shut. In my own mind, there is no question of maturity, just of control, and of someone who is accustomed to being allowed to think that her world is reality, when that is painfully not so. It must be nice! And yet, I pity her.
My Mother drives around in her 2002 Range Rover talking about how "we" don't have all that much. I counter with stories of the people I've kept off the street, the neighbors I'd fed even when I couldn't feed myself. The families with nothing- even families together on the street. The dead bodies whose eyes lay open and even I did not have the courage to close them. The well educated, intelligent and ambitious person I know who work for $13 an hour in spite of a Master's Degree- and it took a year to even find THAT job. She honestly thinks that such a horrible reality only exists in California. Or somewhere "else"- the "other" who is unfortunate is not in her immediate reality- even as we pass by homeless people on the street. I think "we"- meaning her and my father-have plenty, and what's more, I feel that even before I came "home" I had a great deal to be thankful for. My New Year's resolution is to never forget the reality of this world, and to always be grateful for what I have- even when it isn't as much as I'd like.