This is sick.
I don't know what's wrong with me.
But it's something.
I finally made it through the Callica storyline.
I sort of want to cry but it's like, y'know, a TV show. This is like Dana dying in the L Word and leaving Alice behind with the "Plead don't take my sunshine away" singing flower thing. This is like the witch I loved in the Golden Compass books dying. This is like Rosethorn dying, before we knew she was totally going to live.
It's just a character in a fictional piece.
But good gods it sucks when it happens anyway.
So much build up, and for this.
Fuck you, ABC! Erica Hahn was a good character and you threw her out over Izzie Stevens, twit-faced prat of the show! I shake my fist at you. Hahn showed me leaves and now I'm stuck with Izzie twitterpated Stevens and a heardbroken but soon-to-be gay promiscuous Callie. By the way, thanks for keeping her to being "kind of lesbian" as she so surely told Erica, and thanks for "not replacing her with just another lesbian." You're really so very excellent at keeping your word.
And for some reason I'm masochistic enough to keep watching the show. And then I'll watch some other stuff Brooke Smith is in, because for some reason I really like this actress.
So I went to both services again. It always makes me giggle, because I don't even celebrate Christmas the way it's "supposed" to be celebrated, or for the reasons many people celebrate it.
But I sit at the back of the foyer and look out over all these people I love, the people I consider family beyond my immediate blood, and it makes me feel so good. I smiled at the 5 o'clock one when it was more about the children. I smiled at the 8 o'clock one when it was more about adults and messages.
I smiled so bright when the Barthels came in and they all gave me hugs. Gar danced around with me. She even joined me in nitpicking my brother for his loud coat, and then his talking, and then his attempting to destroy the message of the candle-pass-from-one-source-candle by taking his flame from the side window candle. I gave her a dollar to put into the offertory and after a perfunctory rejection on the count that it was my money, she gave in (I told her I had donated $2 in the previous service and wanted to give a total of $5, so I gave her and Penny a dollar each).
I love that at the early evening service I can't really sing because the singing group is so much smaller with all the children and it's all lower-range singers. I love that at the late evening service I can belt out with the other sopranos and that Gar is courageous enough to take the very high dip in one of the songs. I love that we hug and laugh together and how peaceful everything is.
It made me smile to remember that I once had a serious crush on her but we just talked it over and she was flattered I liked her because she knew how picky I was and that I only fell for the best, and it bonded us even closer. Now we're like sisters. I love her so very dearly! And her brother, oh, Jon's such a laugh! Her whole family is brilliant and kind. I love it.
I love my congregation. It reminds me that no matter what goes on in my life, I have a group of loving people to fall back on. They know I try my hardest even when my "best" slips down a few notches.
So no, I don't celebrate Christmas for being the "birthday of Christ" or even particularly acknowledge Christ as any divine figure. But I celebrate family and love and community, feelings and winter.
I love knowing that outside it is cold and windy and snowy, but inside it is warm by the candles and so very warm to the heart with all the love around. That's probably my favourite part about winter.
Happy Pseudo Birth of a Dead Hippie Day!