coming home.

hello everyone.
i still write sometimes.



So, Merry Christmas to you all. I can hardly believe that it is nearly over already.

It is one of the tragedies of teenagerdom when Christmas stops feeling like Christmas. When the light in your eyes on that bright morning is traded in for a few more hours of sleeping, you know something's changed. It hurts a little bit to think about how much anticipation you used to feel winding up inside of you while you counted down the days. Christmas eve was weeks long all by itself. At 6AM exactly, if not earlier, you tumbled through hallways, down stairs, and over siblings to arrive chaotically at the very moment you'd been waiting for since December 26th of the year preceding.

Things have changed so much.

And for the last couple of years, the "spirit of Christmas" has taken a vacation from my heart. In 2005, he came and looked around and found only sadness and the scattered pieces of tragedy in our home. I think he got a little shaken, and stayed away for a year longer just to be safe. But here, in 2007, he's crept into my heart again to take up residence.

Mom and I were listening to the song "Christmas Time is Here" in the car on the way home last night. As Sarah Brightman crooned soft words like, "...sleighbells in the air, beauty everywhere, yuletide by the fireside, and joyful memories there," Mom was sighing and saying "That's just not true." My heart objected at first, but simultaneously I knew she was right. Step one: walk into the mall. Step two: open your eyes. That's all you have to do to see the anxiety and hopelessness that vies for our attention this time of year. So many people are aching, it feels impossible to believe in "happiness and cheer."

I considered this, but what I said was, "It's true for me."

Because, aside from the obvious lack of sleighbells, and the fact that I don't know what "yuletide" means, the warmth and brightness that the carols proclaim is at least a little bit living inside of me this year, for reasons that I am maybe starting to understand. I've spent hours in the mall in these past two weeks, face to face with hurting humanity. And yet, I feel beauty. I feel happiness. I feel merry!

And I think it is at least partly because I am home.
Because I am not exhausted.
Because I have spent time with the ones I love.
Because I have time to step back and think about what is happening now, and not just what will happen next.

Although, I have thought about that, too.

I have thought about Oglethorpe, and scholarships, and what will I do for school next semester?
I have thought about how I should be writing essays, reading books, and calling people back.
I have thought about emails I need to write, projects in my lap, and things I should do sometime soon.


And I have gotten things done in moving toward those things. That feels nice, to say the least.


So, I don't know what the point is. When do I ever know?

But, what I know is that I am sad to be looking at the last hour and fifty-seven minutes of Christmas Day, 2007.
I have been like a little kid again this year more than the last several, I think.

I want to grow up into being as childlike as possible: one who trusts fully, laughs easily, and risks willingly. One who loves Christmas, always.


Maybe that's the point.


Anyway. In other news,
Christmas at the Morgan home was simpler this year than it has been in the past, and I still am managing to walk away with my arms full of wonderful things.

Among these are a new royal blue peacoat from J. Crew and a pair of American Eagle ballerina flats to match them (courtesy of my sweet boyfriend who pays attention when I find things I like). Also, an emerald colored cashmere sweater and a pair of black low-top converse- both of which I had been stealing from my mother but now have for my very own! Hooray! And, a purple button-up sweater, an itunes gift card, beautiful-smelling velvet tuberose body spray, the traditional bag o' candy, soft soft socks from eddie bauer, and an argyle scarf which I shall likely return to buy rainboots instead! WHICH REMINDS ME. I also got these incredible black leather high-heeled boots, which actually have been known to speak when I walk into a room. They usually say something like, "Annie has entered the building," or "Hello. You wish you had these shoes." Or sometimes they just sing, "Dontcha" by the Pussycat Dolls. It just depends on the room.

To top all this off, a softandfluffy dog from Coldwater Creek. He is actually more pillow than dog. I carry him places, just because he makes me happy.

As I told Samuel, stuffed animals are good for the soul.

As long as they are not actual animals.

Anyway. All that to say that I'm almost embarrassed to admit everything I have been given. It is so much.
My life is so beautiful because of the people in it. For them, I'd give everything I have been given and all the world more.

Like, my cousin who writes beautiful musics and sings them for us on Christmas day.
Like, my mother who desires to give us everything, and does (without knowing).
Like, my best friend whose life parallels my own so that we are knit together in heart, year by year.
Like, my brother who always wants to play.
Like, my sister who is coming alive.
Like, my boyfriend who is also my best friend; who gives me old books.
Like, my counselor who is so full of life and light.
Like, my Jesus.

Beautiful.


In other news,
Johnny has found a new way to be funny. (We thought he had reached his limit.)

Whenever someone does something dumb, or ridiculous, he pretends to have interviewed them in the past tense.

"When asked why he was hitting a blowtorch with a hammer, he said he 'thought it would a'splode.'"

Funny.


Okay. This is the end.

Merry Christmas, everyone. :)