ahhh... The holidays. Here I am, midway through the big finale of 2003. I spent the last five days staying at my parents' house in Santa Fe, always a weird experience since I no longer seem to fit there, in a literal and figurative sense. When I was in college or just out of college and my brother went to boarding school, my mom took over one of the bedrooms, leaving only the smallest room in the house as a guest room. That summer, my brother came home and converted half of the garage into a very cool room but since one wall is just an un-insulated garage door, the room is completely uninhabitable in the winter. And so, Dustin, Neil and I shared one room with two beds for the holiday. Dustin slept on the couch in the living room and Neil and I waded through the mounds of clothes that Dustin had strewn on the floor and the four suitcases I brought with me. (if you counted my purse, I brought a bag for each day of my stay)

Despite the crowded, displaced feeling I have at my parents' house, I had a really good five days. I saw a bunch of high school friends that I now only see once a year. I did the annual Christmas Eve walk to look at the faralitos and bump into people I know. I got to spend some quality time with a few friends. I saw Rachel's wedding dress. I made lattkes for a last-chance Chanukah party with my family on the 26th. I went to the Catamount, which has somehow become a holiday tradition as well.

Overall, my time in Santa Fe left me feeling fulfilled. I got a big dose of my friends and a much-needed reminder that even though my life in Albuquerque is not overflowing with friends of my own age and a bubbling social life, I do have a lot of people out there who are good friends and who like to hang out with me. They just don't live anywhere near me. But at least they're out there.

Now I have two and a half days until 2004. I think a couple of friends will be coming to my house for New Years Eve. I, of course, have nothing planned for such an evening, but I'm looking forward to it anyway. I love New Years. I love the way the holiday invites us to make new beginnings and to renew our efforts to be good, to be better, to be kind and passionate. I am all for fresh starts, as often as I can get them.

Moving

It is kind of creepy, how natural it felt to build cardboard boxes and pack them up last week before the big office move of 2003. I was only putting my work life into boxes, but it felt like something I was supposed to be doing, as if moving has become part of my nature. It was as though the move saved me from some oncoming restlessness. If I get the chance to pack up boxes and purge junk every year or so I am content. I'm glad, however, that this move didn't take me to a new city or a new house, just a shiny new office building that still smells like paint.

Old Friends

There is really nothing better in the world than friends. I am especially fond of old friends. Most of my friends from high school are back in Santa Fe this week and it feels nice to know they are here. Last night, I sat around in a room with a bunch of them and even though some of us only talk once a year, it is still comforting to know that these people I grew up with are out there doing well and being happy. And it is somehow life-affirming that we can still get together and laugh every now and then. I like to laugh and laughing with friends is a fantastic feeling. I can't wait until Christmas Eve when I can leave work at noon and drive to Santa Fe for four and a half days of friend-filled fun.

Left Out?

At least two of my co-workers left the office with little gift baskets today. Was I left out of the present circuit? I hate feeling left out.

Many months ago, Neil put his name on a list of tennis players at the neighborhood public court hoping that some people who also have most mornings off would call him to play tennis.

A few weeks after his name and number were posted, I was at home one night when the phone rang. I answered to hear a very old-sounding voice on the other end asking for Neil. I proceeded to take a message. The man told me he was calling about tennis, and then he told me his name. "My name is Semen, S-E-Y-M-O-N" I almost cut him off and asked who was really calling. I was nearly convinced that one of our friends was just being funny. But nope, this man who wanted to play tennis with Neil was actually named Seymon, pronounced semen.

And so, Neil has been playing tennis with Seymon and some of Seymon's other old friends for at least six months...probably longer. About once a week we get a message from Seymon on the answering machine. Sometimes he says things like, "Neil, I'd like you to check your dance card and see if you can play tennis on Tuesday" Later he'll say to Neil, "I bet you've never heard of a dance card have you?"

Neil and I have taken to saying SeyMON when refering to Neil's tennis partner around the house... like we're the reggae-crazed kids I knew in high school who spoke in Jamaican accents. SeyMON is much less disturbing.

After months of wondering, Neil finally figured out that his weekly tennis partner is not just old, he's 85.

While I had talked to Seymon on the phone many many times, I had not met him until last night. Neil and I were invited to go to Seymon's house for a holiday cocktail party with some "tennis buddies" and their wives. So, at 7:30 we showed up and were the last guests to arrive. (the other two couples must have gotten their early?) Seymon bounced to the door and took our coats. He was wearing jeans and cowboy boots with a denim shirt under a leather western-style vest. He is a skinny and tall man with a nice white-whiskered face. He looks like he's 70 at the oldest. His wife, Jean, also looks fairly young, but she has recently lost her balance and now has great difficulty walking.

The other two couples were also at least in their 70s.

Neil and I sat in the living room surrounded by six people who could have been our grandparents and I was terrified. What will we talk about? Will they regret inviting little kids to their holiday party? But, we talked about food and cooking and snow and traveling and movies. Seymon, the gracious host, kept refilling our drinks and offering us food, and by the end of the evening, the people I met last night seemed less like old people and more like people. We had things in common to talk about and they were all very nice and treated us like we were peers and so it felt like we were. So now I am wondering if this means I am really an adult now. When the age difference begins to take on less importance and grandparent-types seem like people I could hang out with, have I completely left my childhood behind?

I am glad I finally met Seymon. He's a very cool person.

Oh...
I can't believe they caught Saddam Hussein. My dad called to tell me yesterday morning. I thought it was a joke.

I feel two ways about this news:
1) glad because this means that all the soldiers might get to come home sooner and it makes my country look a little bit less retarded. Glad because even if I want the president to fail, that doesn't mean I want my country to fail. Glad because a terrible tyrant is finally in captivity and can't hurt any more people.
2) not glad at all because this is another feather in Bush's cap that he doesn't deserve. It's another thing he can hold up and say he did and even though it shouldn't, it weakens the argument against this disaster of a war. It makes Bush look good when really, he's just lucky.

Just because it is good that Hussein is no longer a free man and is no longer in power, that does not mean it was good to start this unprovoked war. Especially when there is a man who is arguably much more dangerous to the U.S. still on the loose. Capturing Saddam Hussein, as terrific as it is, is just a diversion because Bush and his men can't find Osama. Now we have troops in two unstable countries and we are responsible for de-stabilizing two nations. We've got one evil dictator in captivity, but no guarantee that the terrible conditions in Afghanistan and Iraq are not breeding more men like Saddam and Osama, more people who hate America and Americans.

Thank goodness there is a lot of time before November's election so that people can come to see the way the snow is continually blown over our eyes by this administration.

In the meantime, I hope Saddam Hussein is made to pay for his crimes.

Backtracking
On Thursday night, I picked up Neil's mom and grandma at the airport. We had dinner at Chili's and then went to the house where we looked at photo albums and watched TV until Neil made his nightly appearance on the news and then came home. We all put on PJs and went to sleep.

I was incredibly stressed out between trying to finish up all my work so that I could pack my office and move to a new building and worrying about making the visit with Neil's family smooth. My mind was whirring and I could feel my blood pumping through my veins even as I buried my head in my pillow and tried to relax. I couldn't get comfortable and my breathing was fast and uneven. Just as I was about to get out of bed and pace the bedroom until I got tired, something miraculous happened, I fell asleep. I slept so well that I had dreams and couldn't remember them. It was the first night in months when I hadn't looked at the clock at least once and despite all the stress, I woke up feeling happy and refreshed. When I got out of the shower and raised the blinds, there was a thin layer of snow blanketing the ground, and as with all snowstorms, everything looked fresh and new.

Holiday Treats

I want to know why on earth everyone makes fattening cookies and fudge and candies and cakes and then distributes them to unsuspecting workplaces like they are doing something nice. I doubt that there are many Americans in this day and age who are not deeply concerned about the fat content of their food intake. Nobody wants to be fat and I believe we are all struggling to eat healthy and be active. It would really be nice if these goodie-givers would drop by the office once a year with celery sticks and low-fat dip along with their holiday cheer. Then I might feel inspired to send a thank you card.

The mother- and grandmother-in-law will be landing at an airport near me within the hour. Time to head to the arrivals gate. :)

I am old.

Ok, I know, you are thinking something like, "Hello, Jodi, you're only 25." But I feel old. Not physically so much. My body still mends quickly, loses and gains weight quickly and is mostly pain free. But I am 25 years old and not yet rich, not yet famous, not yet influential, not yet who I thought I was going to be.

That sounds very shallow. Allow me to explain. As part of my job, I am in charge of writing snappy articles about finances for a teenage audience. The girl who had this job before me subscribed to Teen People and YM magazines as sources of inspiration. This was a good move on her part since these magazines provide interesting ideas for my co-worker who designs the newsletter and examples of teen-friendly writing for me. The problem is that I often find myself reading these magazines from cover to cover. I would never buy them on the newsstand. Jane, Allure, Real Simple, In Style, Atlantic Monthly, The New Yorker, Newsweek and maybe maybe US Weekly -- these are the magazines I am allowed to buy at my age. But when I have the teen magazines sitting on my desk and come across something as captivating as an article about Mary Kate and Ashley and their plans for college, I cannot help myself. I have to read.

Today, I read the majority of Teen People and wasted about 40 minutes before I realized what I was doing. And what I discovered is that nearly everyone in the magazine was my age or younger. All of the new crop of famous girls are little kids. Kera Knightly is only 18! Then we have other teen sensations like Hillary Duff and Raven. Even Britney and Christina are younger than me. And the ones who are my age or older have been famous for eons already. I used to read teen magazines and think about how I would be in their pages someday for something amazing like writing a bestselling book at age 18 or being randomly discovered and transformed into an international film star. Now I am looking at kids as old as the neighbors I used to babysit who have achieved a very tangible form of success. Compound this with the recently gained knowledge that Sarah Michelle Gellar made $350,000 per episode during the last season of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and I feel like a failure.

It's not that I want to be a famous actress and let's face it, as much as I'd like to dream, rock stardom is probably not in my future. But I want to make a name for myself, make an impact. Be somebody of note, or at least somebody of merit.

Maybe this crisis is in part due to the fact that I used to be a...newspaper reporter...which was a heady thing to be at times. I had a power and a certain prominence that other people did not have and I also believed that I was doing something very important. So what if I was not making much money and was working for a corporate devil, I was doing something I believed in and I was making an impact. Now that I don't do that any more, I have sort of lost my focus. Where am I going again?

In high school and even in college, I always felt like I was in the process of becoming someone. There was an undefined state of being looming on the horizon. I knew I would get there someday and all the work would pay off. Then I graduated from college and I wasn't there yet so I fled back to graduate school. And here I am, one year after getting my MFA in writing and all I've published since then have been articles telling teenagers how to save their money. Sure, I received a few flattering rejection letters, but this won't do. I am 25 and I am still on my way to being whoever it is I am destined to become. I just hope I'm not too late, too old, past my prime.

I'm staring down the backside of my 20's at 30 and in this youth-obsessed culture, I am afraid that each day, I become less and less interesting.

(I am mostly sure that I will get over this soon, I just need to stay away from the teen magazines.)

Dinner with the elected official was great. He was very nice, as was his family and it was a blast to have little kids in our house for the first time. They found the toys within thirty seconds of walking in the door, even though the toys were in a bucket behind the couch. Amazing. It was like they could smell them or sense them on some other level... sonar perhaps?

Neil cooked and set the table and bought flowers and everything looked beautiful and the chicken was delicious. He was very cute during his Martha Stewart stint. It is great to know that my husband can put on a dinner party on his own.

The rest of the weekend went by quickly. Saturday was nice because Neil and I saw our new favorite Western band, Syd Masters & The Swing Riders, play at Barnes and Noble and then we looked through Annie's book, America 24/7 (Annie is on the staff of the group that put the whole thing together) and then we went to sushi and to see Elf, which was actually a really cute movie. I really enjoyed our date evening. We haven't had a ton of those in recent months.

I just read on CNN that Al Gore is rumored to have made the decision to endorse my man, Howard Dean. It is solid proof that I am a political dork/junkie that I got really excited when I read that and wanted to call everyone I knew. Wow. After at least a year of being a Dean supporter, I still find myself energized and psyched about his campaign. He makes mistakes sometimes and isn't always the best speaker, but he is so real and so charismatic. I think he will make a terrific president. If he doesn't win and none of the other democratic candidates win and we have to face four more years of the lunacy of Bush, I will have to seriously consider a move to someplace else... if other countries will still accept U.S. citizens at that point.

Recently I have been very much in need of serious intellectual stimulation. I think it has been too long since the glorious residencies in Bennington for graduate school. Those two weeks where I was so over-stimulated that I got my fill of talking to incredibly intelligent people about things I am passionate about (writing) for at least six months. Lately, other than long talks about the tax-exempt status of credit unions, I don't have tons of intellectual conversations. Not sure what the solution for this is. I would suggest going back to school... but I think I need to do something more amazing than that. I'll see what I can come up with.

Ever since I started my job last March, I have had a major problem being warm in my office. In the winter, no amount of heat seems to warm up my small square room. In the summer, I have to tape the air conditioning vent closed with masking tape and wear sweaters. I complained a little bit about this situation, but nobody ever said anything. I run a small space heater in my office every day and by 2 or 3 it approaches warm in here.

About a month ago, I was complaining about the icebox that I work in and one of the people I work with said something like, "That makes sense. Your office doesn't have any insulation."

Ah ha.

Nice of them to let me in on that little secret a full NINE months after I began working here. I need to find a way to de-dilbertify my life. Meanwhile, my fingers are freezing.

A co-worker just walked into my frigid lair carrying two bags of chocolate. One bag of Dove squares and one bag of Butterfinger Christmas bells. Of course, I helped myself to two of each. I say bring on the holiday bulge. Or as my Dove fortune (or do they call them promises) on the inside of the wrapper says "Add a little sweetness to your day"

My impartial journalist husband has invited over the president of the city council and his wife and kids for dinner tonight. Should be fun. Neil is a big fan of this family so I will probably like them too. (I am really mostly kidding about the impartiality part)

Ahhh four day weekends. The Thanksgiving holiday was incredibly long. It was almost long enough to make me forget about the fact that I am a working stiff, but not quite.

Thursday was really a perfect day. Neil and I slept in until 9:30 and then drove to Santa Fe where we were greeted by a house full of people. My dad and brother were there as expected, but my cousin Pam was also there with her girlfriend's three sons and their best friend. The kids were playing with the pool table and we didn't interact with them a whole lot, but just having the house filled with voices and bodies and holiday energy was terrific. My grandma showed up a short time later, followed by my mom and the dog who had been on a run in the arroyo.

We spent the afternoon talking over each other, talking to each other, laughing, snacking while preparing food etc.

Dinner was at 4 (way earlier than I am used to and probably part of my mom's weight-loss/health philosophy) And I quote: Mom: "We don't want to eat dinner too late it's not good for us!" Me: "Mom, since when was 4:00 late for dinner?"

After dinner, my dad and brother crashed on the couch and my mom and grandma and Neil and I hung around. Then we woke everyone up, ate pie and went to see Love Actually, a perfectly fun movie to end the holiday.

The rest of the weekend was ok. My brother got really bummed on Friday about college and life in general and I felt frustrated and helpless to help him which is really a miserable way to feel when you care about someone so much... But he seems to be leaving NM this morning in a more positive state of mind.

Neil and I went rollerblading on Saturday and walking on Sunday and we managed to go to only one store the entire weekend, Target. We went on Saturday in hopes of finding some perfect Chanukah gifts for family and left without any gifts but with $80 worth of stuff and massive headaches. Why on earth do so many people LOVE shopping on Thanksgiving weekend. So what if it is tradition, it's a terrible one.

Now I just finished the second day of the five day work week. Ahh, how quickly reality sets in.