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Jan. 1st, 2014 06:13 pmnew year's eve was off to an unpromising start -- i'd spent the week in doubt that i'd ever be happy or satisfied, that i could sing 'should old acquaintance be forgot' and mean it. i passed the bus ride to boulder heart-sick and sad, unable to focus on my reading, unable to think unless the thought ended in self-hatred. but i sent a text message from a coffee shop, and i got a reminder of what it is to be in relationship -- it's not having someone who's always there, or who knows what you need before you do, or who understands you without a word. not for me. it's someone who'll answer when you call, who'll listen when you get the courage to say what's on your mind, and who'll reassure you if you only ask for reassurance. it's someone who doesn't need to say they sympathize, but if you need to hear it, they'll tell you. and you can say the same.
and i arrived at a party with old friends and new faces and surprisingly sociable cats. i gave gifts and shared confidences. i watched things that made me laugh. i drank elderflower liqueur and plum vodka. we played games that no one ever seemed to win or lose -- bananagrams, cthulhu munchkin, a thousand blank white cards. i was a princess for a bit, and then i was deposed, and then i was recrowned. we took turns on the wii fit board and practiced sitting very still, and we squealed over too-cute puppies on tv. i and an accomplice ate pie straight from the pie tin. and when midnight came, we shouted 'happy new year' off the balcony and banged pots and pans to scare off spirits.
no one sang 'auld lang syne,' but there was a resounding chorus of 'my, what a man, that gaston.'
by new year's day, my heart had lightened. on my way to the transit station, i saw a crowd and tables and a sign for mochi-tsuki. a child eagerly offered me a bowl. right around the corner, someone was swinging a mallet, pounding out the mochi, and i was so delighted to see it, i asked if i could take a picture. 'i want to remember,' i said. a man offered to take a picture for me while i took a swing or two myself.
i was shy, of course. the mallet was heavy. but it was fun! i was happy.
i can be happy.
and to you, too --
( happy new year )
and i arrived at a party with old friends and new faces and surprisingly sociable cats. i gave gifts and shared confidences. i watched things that made me laugh. i drank elderflower liqueur and plum vodka. we played games that no one ever seemed to win or lose -- bananagrams, cthulhu munchkin, a thousand blank white cards. i was a princess for a bit, and then i was deposed, and then i was recrowned. we took turns on the wii fit board and practiced sitting very still, and we squealed over too-cute puppies on tv. i and an accomplice ate pie straight from the pie tin. and when midnight came, we shouted 'happy new year' off the balcony and banged pots and pans to scare off spirits.
no one sang 'auld lang syne,' but there was a resounding chorus of 'my, what a man, that gaston.'
by new year's day, my heart had lightened. on my way to the transit station, i saw a crowd and tables and a sign for mochi-tsuki. a child eagerly offered me a bowl. right around the corner, someone was swinging a mallet, pounding out the mochi, and i was so delighted to see it, i asked if i could take a picture. 'i want to remember,' i said. a man offered to take a picture for me while i took a swing or two myself.
i was shy, of course. the mallet was heavy. but it was fun! i was happy.
i can be happy.
and to you, too --
( happy new year )
