Sunday, December 15, 2013


Decorating the tree.  Watching Xena, DS9, and "Viking Apocalypse" because my niece and I enjoyed that on Netflix this past spring ...

Every year, decorating alone, I don't get to exclaim to my family or even friends, "Oh, this is the one I got in such-and-such a way" ...  Decorating a tree alone, I get to do it just as I like - but it does lack for a little bit of fun.  Sure, Pen is here gassing up the room (not sure what's up with that, she didn't get any unusual treats today!) and Goss is periodically providing gentle threats by way of a little more fascination with the pretty dangling ornaments than is 100% comfortable.  But I'd have to call my mom or brother to do the usual holiday reminiscing over this or that piece of decoration.

It's interesting how many of my ornaments came to me though previous jobs.  The thing from that one woman who got such a bad case of bitch-face when SHE laid ME off (and then, I was told, cried to what remained of our team after she'd fired several of us - boo hoo, lady - and I'm so sorry I apparently pissed you off so badly by being fired by you).  The pewter bell from the job with that manager I still remember as one of my best ever.  The little things she herself gave, over a couple of years there.  The beautiful white ball with glitter poinsettas.  The green and turquoise ones I bought with my friend B. last year and couldn't hang on a tree imperiled by juvenile pets.  The snow globe one of my friends at the most recent job gave me just last year.  Aww.

Family and friends hang all over the place, of course.  The beautiful pic of healthy, young Sweet Siddy La, her silhouette in the living room.  The photos of my nieces.  There's one somewhere, I haven't found it yet, of me and Beloved Ex; I did still keep hanging that one on the tree (near the back, but known to me) for many years.  It's still around somewhere, I know.  The red heart Zuba gave me, with blessings in little metal "stones" inside.  The "J..O..Y" ornaments.  The Twelve Days of Christmas ornaments dad gave mom over a period of several years, a pair at a time.  Silver and gold.  Icicles, and that one marabou ball my grandmother once held against her cheek with a happy grin.  The wooden ornaments my mom painted with us when we were kids.

Last year, I  had a tree but it had hardly any ornaments and ended up half-lit for most of the season.  It was a fairly depressing decoration.

Last year, I missed New Year's Eve because I was sick - and the absence of that finish line threw me off in strange ways for a surprising proportion of 2013.  It's an odd cognitive dissonance, to miss a marker like that.

This year, I intend to know what year it is.

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