let's celebrate one more time--we'll do it right this time

I've been thinking about celebrations lately. Christmas has come and gone, as has New Year's Day. Christmas involved a lot of family and my favourite cranberry sauce. New Year's Eve included very appropriate portions of strawberries and vodka.

And then, there was yesterday, a not-so-important landmark in my life of 26 years. The final celebration of the season. I was lying in bed yesterday morning (actually, I had gotten up already to make coffee, but then went to bed because I decided I didn't want to be up yet) and I was feeling kind of sorry for myself: "this is such a shitty time of year to have a birthday. no one wants to celebrate now! They're sick of eating and partying. In fact, almost everyone forgets my birthday anywa." Yeah, I know, self-pity isn't particularly attractive. I snapped out of it quite soon though. I remembered that the night before I had opened up a Dove chocolate and the inside said, "Buy yourself flowers." So, in bed yesterday morning, as I was swishing my legs back and forth in my sheets (because I had just shaved my legs and I love the feeling of smooth legs in clean sheets), I said, "Dammit, I'll buy myself flowers!" And I was getting very excited as I thought about that. I'm a closet flower-lover/obsessor. I love flowers, but have never wanted to admit that I'd like to get them from someone (too girly?). Right then, the doorbell rang, and guess what was there for me, bright and early for me on my birthday?? Flowers!!!! Yay. I had to accept them in my pajamas with frizzy hair and crusty eyes. The day continued to improve after that. In total, I've come away from the Christmas/New Year's/Birthday celebrations with no less than 6 new books of poetry. And all great volumes! (I put in special requests) So I can further burrow my head into my isolated world....

I was also thinking about celebrations because one of my friends recently e-mailed me about her New Year's festivities. She's in Moldova now, with the Peace Corps. She said that she partied with her host family until 7:00 in the morning! Then they went to bed, and were up again in 3 hours to continue partying! Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong culture....

And yet, there is one more celebration. School starts again soon. I'm serious. I'm looking forward to going back to school. The semester doesn't start until Jan. 17th, but I'm already counting the days. What a dork.