(no subject)
This has been a year of ups and downs. As 2009 slides inexorably toward its conclusion, I choose to focus on the good.
Doug gave me a ride to the airport. We stopped for dinner on the way, and on an impulse decided to go to a Sizzler. The steak was tough and the salad bar was ridiculous, but the company more than made up for any deficiencies, and turned the questionable environment of a low-class steak-joint into an anecdote waiting to happen. Doug and I talked about the various hobbies we share, and when he dropped me off, wished each other a Merry Christmas.
Miguel and I both come home on Sunday. He'll land first, and cool his heels for twenty minutes or so at some coffee place, maybe fiddling with his iPhone, maybe tinkering with his lap-top. I'll land, find him, and he'll have a big goofy grin for me. We'll share a cab to the York's, then swap to his car for the ride home.
It's taken very little time for these two men to become such an indelible part of my environment. I moved in only four months ago, and already I think of their presence as a species of 'rightness'. Even Doug, who is often absent, adds an undeniable completeness to our household when he's there.
Miguel is the anchor upon which the rest of us orbit. He is dependable in ways that are hard to express except in the most selfish terms: he's there when I just want company. At any time I can trudge upstairs and enjoy his ready smile, his generous laugh, and the simple comforts of sharing a movie or conversation with a friend. That's more precious than I can readily describe.
I've been spending more time with Matt. There's always been something very comfortable about being around him; he's one of those people who makes me feel the least self-conscious, and even at his most catty and ribald, he has a grace and dignity to which I still aspire. I realized recently that I met him over ten years ago. Nearly a third of my life ago. It's a damnable shame that it's taken me that long to put a concerted effort into deepening our friendship. But concerted efforts are one of my weak points.
I spoke to Roby a few weeks ago. We exchanged a bunch of messages via Facebook and he asked me to proof-read one of the stories he'd worked on years ago, that I happened to love. Reading his writing always makes me feel less dimensional; like the characters and turns of phrase he invents for his made-up characters have a vividness that makes me feel flatter by comparison. Roby is like that too. A lot of people live their lives like a man walking down a hallway, existing from point A to point B, and so on. I have this image of Roby living in all directions at once, busting open doors, climbing out one window and in the other, and generally awesoming up the place. I'm terrible at showing him how much I value him in my life because I suck at keeping in touch, but at least I can tell him so here.
I'm not heading to the Bay Area this winter. I miss seeing Tyler and Heather. I talked to Tyler on the phone, and he told me about how he and Heather had gotten a tree for their apartment, and even as we joked about how domestic he'd become, I still had a big smile plastered on my face. I think when you can take true joy in another person's happiness, you're traveling in the right direction. I'd love to see Greg, one of the nicest, most unconsciously genuine people I know.
I chatted with Jim on WoW a few nights ago, after he ran me through all the new dungeons to tempt me into re-upping my account. Jim is one of those guys I talk to in cycles; there are times when we talk all the time, and there are periods where we won't hear from one another in weeks. But whenever we talk or hang-out we fall into the time-worn patterns of our association, which is primarily built on having tastes that overlap almost everywhere. I might come back to WoW just to have more regular contact with him.
Learsfool and I are almost done with Lego Batman. When that's done we'll have to cast around for another excuse to spend time together. No matter what's going on in my life, one constant is how much I enjoy her company.
My sister and her newborn son arrive tomorrow. I had a lot of fun shopping for my nephew, and I look forward to seeing how much bigger he's gotten. I'm sitting in my mom's house. It's not the house I grew up in, and it no longer really resembles the place I knew when I lived here for a year. Certainly without Tucker the whole place has a different feeling; there's something less vital and organic about it. It's not growing; it's like a dying tree that hasn't yet fallen. It's both depressing and nostalgic at the same time, but it doesn't really feel like Christmas. It feels brittle. I wonder if that'll change by tomorrow.
I have a lot to be grateful for, and I try to keep that in perspective. I love my friends dearly, and wish you all a very merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and generally pleasant winter.
Doug gave me a ride to the airport. We stopped for dinner on the way, and on an impulse decided to go to a Sizzler. The steak was tough and the salad bar was ridiculous, but the company more than made up for any deficiencies, and turned the questionable environment of a low-class steak-joint into an anecdote waiting to happen. Doug and I talked about the various hobbies we share, and when he dropped me off, wished each other a Merry Christmas.
Miguel and I both come home on Sunday. He'll land first, and cool his heels for twenty minutes or so at some coffee place, maybe fiddling with his iPhone, maybe tinkering with his lap-top. I'll land, find him, and he'll have a big goofy grin for me. We'll share a cab to the York's, then swap to his car for the ride home.
It's taken very little time for these two men to become such an indelible part of my environment. I moved in only four months ago, and already I think of their presence as a species of 'rightness'. Even Doug, who is often absent, adds an undeniable completeness to our household when he's there.
Miguel is the anchor upon which the rest of us orbit. He is dependable in ways that are hard to express except in the most selfish terms: he's there when I just want company. At any time I can trudge upstairs and enjoy his ready smile, his generous laugh, and the simple comforts of sharing a movie or conversation with a friend. That's more precious than I can readily describe.
I've been spending more time with Matt. There's always been something very comfortable about being around him; he's one of those people who makes me feel the least self-conscious, and even at his most catty and ribald, he has a grace and dignity to which I still aspire. I realized recently that I met him over ten years ago. Nearly a third of my life ago. It's a damnable shame that it's taken me that long to put a concerted effort into deepening our friendship. But concerted efforts are one of my weak points.
I spoke to Roby a few weeks ago. We exchanged a bunch of messages via Facebook and he asked me to proof-read one of the stories he'd worked on years ago, that I happened to love. Reading his writing always makes me feel less dimensional; like the characters and turns of phrase he invents for his made-up characters have a vividness that makes me feel flatter by comparison. Roby is like that too. A lot of people live their lives like a man walking down a hallway, existing from point A to point B, and so on. I have this image of Roby living in all directions at once, busting open doors, climbing out one window and in the other, and generally awesoming up the place. I'm terrible at showing him how much I value him in my life because I suck at keeping in touch, but at least I can tell him so here.
I'm not heading to the Bay Area this winter. I miss seeing Tyler and Heather. I talked to Tyler on the phone, and he told me about how he and Heather had gotten a tree for their apartment, and even as we joked about how domestic he'd become, I still had a big smile plastered on my face. I think when you can take true joy in another person's happiness, you're traveling in the right direction. I'd love to see Greg, one of the nicest, most unconsciously genuine people I know.
I chatted with Jim on WoW a few nights ago, after he ran me through all the new dungeons to tempt me into re-upping my account. Jim is one of those guys I talk to in cycles; there are times when we talk all the time, and there are periods where we won't hear from one another in weeks. But whenever we talk or hang-out we fall into the time-worn patterns of our association, which is primarily built on having tastes that overlap almost everywhere. I might come back to WoW just to have more regular contact with him.
Learsfool and I are almost done with Lego Batman. When that's done we'll have to cast around for another excuse to spend time together. No matter what's going on in my life, one constant is how much I enjoy her company.
My sister and her newborn son arrive tomorrow. I had a lot of fun shopping for my nephew, and I look forward to seeing how much bigger he's gotten. I'm sitting in my mom's house. It's not the house I grew up in, and it no longer really resembles the place I knew when I lived here for a year. Certainly without Tucker the whole place has a different feeling; there's something less vital and organic about it. It's not growing; it's like a dying tree that hasn't yet fallen. It's both depressing and nostalgic at the same time, but it doesn't really feel like Christmas. It feels brittle. I wonder if that'll change by tomorrow.
I have a lot to be grateful for, and I try to keep that in perspective. I love my friends dearly, and wish you all a very merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and generally pleasant winter.