Ah, the Christmas season. While this is the first year since I was born that I will not be with my family for Christmas (save for my brother who now lives in Portland), all is not surrendered to longing and loneliness. Already I feel a quiescence that I may not if I was about to pinball through America's airport system, as well as through a labyrinth of friend and family "Hello, how are you?"s. Every year since I've moved to Portland the Christmas season is both too short and too long. I embark home in anticipation of noshing about Mom's cooking, imbibing about friends' deleterious habits, and lounging about Nintendo games and bad movies I've seen sixteen times before. Yet, it never quite happens like that. Even with a ten day sojourn, which I greedily hoarded last year, I still don't get to see everyone and do everything I planned...in South Dakota no less, a place where one wouldn't think there would be too much to do, especially in December. At the same rate, I contemporaneously develop ennui after about five days, feeling like I've slipped behind in my research, music writing, or whatever "n" number of endeavors I entertain. The result is always a pleasant Christmas experience, yet somehow an incomplete experience nonetheless.
Alas, this year is different. I have erected a hideous Christmas "tree" in my apartment that is decorated with fallout from a recent holiday party; I have plastic-wrapped Christmas treats slowly evaporating their Mom-made savory in my barren refrigerator; I have USPS-delivered presents littered about my wooden floor; and the only frost on my window sills is that from my humble sigh hoping for snow. Yes, maudlin, but not melancholy. I'm truly excited for a "Portland Christmas" this year if for nothing else, for its simplicity. I'll be relaxed, playing guitar, actually reading something that is not a scientific journal article, and slowly sipping tepid totties among the winter aire. This Christmas will most certainly be a "holiday" in every right.
As for specifics, my brother and I have modest plans, including a "South Dakota Christmas Eve" with other SD transplants, as well as a Christmas morning feast (and probably binge) at a good friend's house. After that, we may just park my Saudi-powered sleigh and walk about Portland's living room in Pioneer Square -- which I should add is aptly equipped with a forty foot decorated Douglas Fir. Yes, I will be "home" for Christmas after all. In this regard, I realize I now have two homes: one in South Dakota that my family and friends built, and one right here in Portland that I'm currently building. So there is really no need for longing after all. Many people on our lonely planet live and die without a single home, while I have the luxury of two. And that is certainly a gift worth unwrapping.
(...yeah...maybe that was a little cheesy. sorry.)
1 comment:
It wasn't cheesy, it was obviously gay.
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