Friday, December 5, 2008

I mark myself

There is an interesting article on Twilight and young women's desires in the Atlantic. A part of me wants to say nay, the female empowerment kind of books are way better! but another part of sighs and thinks of Mr. Darcy. Whatever, Lizz. Being a human is a complex and often unforgiving process. All contradictions and inconsistencies, rivaled by moments of brilliant illumination. I have a poem, kind of a bizarre poem that ends it is because we are human and brilliant in our inconsistencies, that I found you irresistible.

I won't lie or try to hide it, I hate December, so if my posts are dreary that is a big reason. It is my least favorite month of the year. I hate Christmas decorations and shoppers. I hate having to leave my house. I hate Christmas Carols and I really hate Christmas. The five week period between the day after Thanksgiving and January 2 is the worst for me. Rampant, vapid consumerism, contrived holiday cheer and the rest of the bull**** annoy me to no end. All this holiday joy (retch) that is meaningless to most of the population.

I remember truly enjoyed December when I lived in Mexico. It wasn't Americanized and there was a genuine sense of reflection, air of giving and holiness that was comforting. I remember walking through town and strangers would see me alone and invite me in for champurrado and sweets, to see their nativity scenes. There was little gift giving. It was serene and sweet.


Sweet Jane
Cowboy Junkies

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