Well well...
I guess I'll leave the personal drama for the timebeing. Funny how since this all reared back to life I have been far more willing to discuss it with people than I have ever been. Although I was surprised to find out that Rachael has been reading this blog (hi Rachael) and as a result contacted me. Goes to show that maybe more people are reading this than I thought (and certainly should comment since I'm curious to know who/how many they are, hint hint).
But enough of that, on to more random thoughts (sometime I will craft a coherent entry not steeped in emotional angst, promise).
I reserve the right to be a domestic lighting geek for a moment: My room is a much more mellow colour temperature since I "appropriated" about a thousand low-wattage bulbs from work. In the working world I have become much more aware of colour temp. as a result....most of the commonly used room fixtures do not work *at all* with the world of Christmas events. *ahem* Sorry about that.
My room is more spacious after building a CD Tower of Babel in one corner. I apparently own about 230 CDs (of varying quality). My computer holds most of the pop stuff I'd never buy, however I guiltily admit that a smile comes to my lips everytime I hear the opening of Ice Cube's "You Can Do It" or Tim Deluxe's "It Just Won't Do" Sometimes I wonder if my self-proclaimed broad taste in music is actually just bad taste in music. :)
The room is coming together, after some time in serious disarray. As part of the cleanup I found a box of photos of me, less than a week old, in my mother's arms. I have to say that it amazes me that the little pink guy in those pictures has anything to do with the person that I am now. I also found pictures my dad took of my grandmother in her casket - opposite ends of the spectrum I guess. When I last saw my grandmother alive, about 3 years ago, she was barely aware that she'd just been relocated to a new nursing home following a series of strokes. I was saying goodbye, after being with her for several weeks and her not remembering I'd been there the previous days, and she looked up at me with terrified and grateful eyes and cried "god bless you!" I am not usually the kind of person to break down but it was a struggle to finish saying goodbye and keep it together. Her unshakable faith, despite a completely muddled mind, almost makes me want to believe in a heaven and a god. And she was dead about three months later.
Wow, didn't I say I was going to leave the angsty stuff for another entry? Sorry.
I saw Yo-Yo Ma perform the other night. Amazing fluidity in his performance, accompanied by an almost ridiculous melodramatic playing style. Someone with a better ear than I commented that his synergy with his pianist was incredible. Listening during the second half I understood what he meant: Ma was playing his notes to coincide exactly with the decay of the piano's notes.
Last night I built a gingerbread house for the first time in about 10 years. It was all part of a huge party with the house-building as a theme. Picture a room full of people, gingerbread, icing, candy, and booze. There were multi-storey complexes, log cabins made of nibs, the "7.0 Richter Scale" house (which had a promising start but ended up a mass of rubble), and my own contribution - a modest gingerbread cabana with thatched-licorice roof, flanked by a lifesaver-and-licorice palm tree.
And now, my body still reeling from my crazy night shift work earlier this week, time for bed. I hope. G'night.
But enough of that, on to more random thoughts (sometime I will craft a coherent entry not steeped in emotional angst, promise).
I reserve the right to be a domestic lighting geek for a moment: My room is a much more mellow colour temperature since I "appropriated" about a thousand low-wattage bulbs from work. In the working world I have become much more aware of colour temp. as a result....most of the commonly used room fixtures do not work *at all* with the world of Christmas events. *ahem* Sorry about that.
My room is more spacious after building a CD Tower of Babel in one corner. I apparently own about 230 CDs (of varying quality). My computer holds most of the pop stuff I'd never buy, however I guiltily admit that a smile comes to my lips everytime I hear the opening of Ice Cube's "You Can Do It" or Tim Deluxe's "It Just Won't Do" Sometimes I wonder if my self-proclaimed broad taste in music is actually just bad taste in music. :)
The room is coming together, after some time in serious disarray. As part of the cleanup I found a box of photos of me, less than a week old, in my mother's arms. I have to say that it amazes me that the little pink guy in those pictures has anything to do with the person that I am now. I also found pictures my dad took of my grandmother in her casket - opposite ends of the spectrum I guess. When I last saw my grandmother alive, about 3 years ago, she was barely aware that she'd just been relocated to a new nursing home following a series of strokes. I was saying goodbye, after being with her for several weeks and her not remembering I'd been there the previous days, and she looked up at me with terrified and grateful eyes and cried "god bless you!" I am not usually the kind of person to break down but it was a struggle to finish saying goodbye and keep it together. Her unshakable faith, despite a completely muddled mind, almost makes me want to believe in a heaven and a god. And she was dead about three months later.
Wow, didn't I say I was going to leave the angsty stuff for another entry? Sorry.
I saw Yo-Yo Ma perform the other night. Amazing fluidity in his performance, accompanied by an almost ridiculous melodramatic playing style. Someone with a better ear than I commented that his synergy with his pianist was incredible. Listening during the second half I understood what he meant: Ma was playing his notes to coincide exactly with the decay of the piano's notes.
Last night I built a gingerbread house for the first time in about 10 years. It was all part of a huge party with the house-building as a theme. Picture a room full of people, gingerbread, icing, candy, and booze. There were multi-storey complexes, log cabins made of nibs, the "7.0 Richter Scale" house (which had a promising start but ended up a mass of rubble), and my own contribution - a modest gingerbread cabana with thatched-licorice roof, flanked by a lifesaver-and-licorice palm tree.
And now, my body still reeling from my crazy night shift work earlier this week, time for bed. I hope. G'night.
posted by Mike at 3:40 AM
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