Christmas Cheer

Saturday afternoon and I'm in the apartment complex's computer room. There's noone else around and I prefer that today. I don't feel well. My mentality is healthy, but physically I feel depleted. My body seems to be fighting itself. I'm not sure that makes sense, but I can't describe it any other way.

I've been down here at the computer for some time already. It's starting to frustrate me that I'm sitting here, wasting a perfectly good day doing nothing. There's a word for that, I like to call it the "work-week." If I felt more up to it, I'd like to think I'd be out doing something and maybe I will later. The past few weeks I've made a habit of going to this German deli every Saturday for lunch. They even recognize me by name.. or rather, the name of the beer I always have one too many of. "Hey! It's Kostritzer! Have a seat while you still have your sober bearings in tact enough to find one!" And that sort of thing.

Michael arrived back in town I believe yesterday, so Jane's probably been keeping busy with him. We've made plans to go to church tomorrow though.

..There's something not right about looking out of the window here beside the computer, the skies being overcast and gray, giving the general appearance of winter.. and as I cast my eye downward expecting tall robust wooded pines and a freshly snow-covered ground, instead am met with a clustering of malnourished palm trees and a plastic manicured lawn. Wait. It gets better. At nightfall I'll be treated to a luminescent yard display of 9 pink flamingos carting a tan swimsuited Mr. Claus around. Bad taste abounds this time of year.

Oh I do miss Flagstaff's quaintness right about now. Now it's not perfect. Step 1 block outside of the town centre and you're acosted by desperate (and maybe a tad truth-stretching) neon signs for tacky motels with names like, "Best Knight Inn" and "Paradise Palace." I'm not sure who the proprietors think they're fooling. Is any perspective guest really going to look only at the sign and think, "Heavenly Hotel, why, I ought to try there. " and ignore the used-to-be-maybe-a-nice-shade-of-firehouse-red-now-garish-pink building sinking into the ground, parking lot dotted with passed out Indians like bad lawn ornaments? How about being earnest and instead calling the place something like, "Pretty Much Just Manky Carpet and a Hard Bed You Won't Get any Sleep Inn" or "Big Mistake but You're Tired and Cheap Chateau." I'd have a lot more respect for the "Modest Motel" that knows it's seen better days than the one that has some kind of ego-maniacal Gary Busey complex.

I did have a point in all this. Anyway, Flagstaff's lovely this time of year, even with the intoxicated Indians who fell for the flashy neon signs.

I'll be home for Christmas

My mom purchased a ticket for me to visit Arizona for a few days over the Christmas Holiday. I'll be leaving from work Thursday night and returning first thing before work Tuesday morning. I'm looking forward to that more than even I would've thought, but I know the time will absolutely fly by. I've been keeping busy recently, and I've been in good spirits. Probably a good part of that is because of the holiday season. I love this time of year. I attended a Christmas pageant with a neighbor-friend of mine about a week back, and that was enjoyable. There were a few choirs as well as a youth orchestra who were outstanding (except for one kid who was slightly overly-enthusiastic about *clanging* away on the bells.)

I arrived here 4 months tomorrow. I don't know where the time's gone. It feels like only a matter of days ago that I was sitting back in Flagstaff wondering when August 7th would arrive. I was so hastened to leave, I spent my last few months there not being able to enjoy any of my surroundings. I wished my time away. And now I'm here.. the place I desired to be for so long, and I feel foolish for missing anything back "home." I have to remind myself it was my own disdain and hurriedness that pushed me out here to begin with. I've settled into life here fairly well, but it's only been in the last week or so that it's actually dawned on me that I'm not here vacationing. I'm attempting to make a life in this place. I've managed to sort out residence, a job, friends, all of the things that make up the outward appearance of a life here. I'm just not sure how or when that happened. I mean to say.. I don't recall actually doing anything to suddenly find myself in this place. It was just a flighty idea one minute, and now four months later I wake up in a bed that belongs to me in a room that belongs to me in an apartment that technically is mine, and I'm bewildered by it all. I don't particularly recognize any of the things around me in my own home. I have a routine, and I do the things I do.. but I'm not sure why or how I fell into it. I'm not sure who I am, and day to day, I'm not sure who I want to be. I think I may be starting to figure it out though.

My life is strangely quieter and less complicated than I ever thought I was capable of being content with. As a matter of fact, I'm finding I'm happier the less stimuli surround me. I lay in bed each night with only a small lamp on the table beside me, reading by the dim light. The mornings are usually dark and dreary with only a single small light in each room. The apartment takes on this old candlelit feeling in the early hours of the morning as I get ready for work. No TV on in the background and if the radio plays, it's usually tuned to either the classical station or the Christian station which plays nothing but beautiful 1920s aucapella choral music. Both of which are on AM radio so the distant chattery static only adds to the feeling that I've somehow slipped back a few decades. It's chilly that time of morning, so the cats are usually curled up together in an attempt at keeping warm while I feel my way in the near-dark from room to room.

I've really taken to this. I'm just not sure where it came from or how long the fascination will last.