Random thoughts

You ever notice sometimes when you are eating in a distinctively "ethnic" restaurant but the music/atmosphere doesn't match? Tonight we dined at one of our regular haunts Sam's Sushi in Ballard where we enjoyed the Beginner Sushi plate and Tofu Udon to the digestive-friendly tunes of Smooth Jazz. There have been similar experiences at Thai and Indian restaurants in this city and somehow a mismatch in the atmosphere & food takes away from the authenticity of the experience. Maybe it's just me.

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I have come to notice that there is a fine line between an interesting diary blog and a indulgent blathering of self-importance. I think a lot of blogs fall into the latter category and it pains me because I can see how one can slide into it. I know my entries have been sort of light lately. Things have been going on. Things at work (which is an off limits topic on this blog) and things personally which I will get to, if not tomorrow then by the weekend.
Readers, the reason I blog is simply to practice writing with a little performance pressure and to give something back to you: A nugget of information/observation and maybe a laugh if I can swing it. If you ever feel I'm not delivering, let me know and I'll try to do better.

Dude, where's my Christmas?

(I meant to post this last night but had no connectivity at Dad's place.)

Merry Christmas to you!
Ken is napping on the adjacent couch while Dad and Austin have gone to my cousin Larry’s Christmas Day dinner. I find myself battling a monster head cold and pondering the meaning of Christmas. I can’t help but notice how this could be any other night of the year except for all the boxes and bags strewn about the living room floor and that Burgerville is closed today.

Since I was raised observing Christmas from a secular point of view, the birth of Jesus and the religious aspect fell away, leaving more symbolic associations with the holiday. The small details became super important: a fresh tree for the smell, certain Christmas decorations displayed in a specific place every year, eating pizzelles and satsumas throughout December and going to Christmas Eve dinner at my Grandmother’s house to eat weird Italian food—all garnished by either pickles, olives or mandarin oranges. [My mother has taken over the dinner since my grandmother’s passing and while the garnishes are gone, there is always an “experimental” vegetable or hors d’ oeuvre somewhere on the table.]

Its funny how as a kid, I thought the pageantry and magic of this season would somehow erase all the disappointments in the year preceding it. The sheer build up to this day whipped me into a frenzy, because—at least until 8^th grade—what I lacked in number of friends, the number of presents under the tree consoled me. (All of that changed once I had a high school boyfriend of course. Then only his present mattered.)

So what comes to mind when you think of the holidays and the word “expectation”? (Groan.) Everyone has a story about something that didn’t go as planned or someone who failed to live up to what they “should” have done. Rarely if ever, do expectations measure up to reality and that’s why I hate them. I’ve noticed holidays (and weddings) are times where hidden emotions and issues, explode onto center stage. For instance, 7 or 8 Christmases ago, my mother wanted my brother and me to show up at her house around 11 am and I guess we didn’t get there until 2 pm. She was so upset which made me angry because neither my brother nor I realized the time was firm but really we were struggling to meet the “expectations” of our father and blended family who we promised to visit with as well. Mom’s strong reaction surprised me but my own resentment about having to run all over the place on Christmas Day surprised me more. Why couldn’t we just have one family and be in one location all day long? (See, not a Christmas issue.) After that, I have always made it very clear about schedules during the holidays.

And now, since marrying Ken there is the inclusion of all new traditions, ideals and... expectations.

Dixie Chicks: +1 more fan

We just got back from seeing the Dixie Chicks Documentary. Damn.

For the record, I have never been a fan of country music or the people who predominantly embrace it. This documentary showed the infamous moment that Natalie Maines said she was ashamed that the President was from Texas. The ensuing firestorm of hate and rejection from their once adoring fans captured in this documentary became ironic and ignorant with today's hindsight. The way the majority of the country audience turned their backs on such a beloved and popular group in 2003 after stating a quasi-joke/opinion can only be described as deeply chilling. The Dixie Chicks may have lost some of their fans but good riddance. I'm sure they didn't mean to stumble out into a political stage or become the poster children for the First Amendment but how they handled it impressed me immensely.

Count yourselves another fan.

The Meaning of Grateful

For some reason, the Pacific NW was the lucky recipient of not one but two major catastrophic storm fronts in the last 30 days. While Ken and I were lucky to sustain no property damage or loss of power with this latest one, many of our friends, neighbors and fellow NW citizens were not so fortunate. There is lots being said in the Seattle Times about how dire this has affected the area. Especially with sub-freezing temperatures at night and many with no electricity still after 3 days, people have resorted to bbqing inside or running generators which has now lead to a rash of carbon monoxide poisoning. Aye!

It's always humbling to me to realize how dependant we are on energy and "civilized" life. Even when we went camping with the Vaslows, we had the comfort of a heated cabin and hot showers among many other things. These events are good reminders to be thankful for what conveniences we do enjoy.

Tangent: But there is a form of infrastructure upon which I've become most dependant on as the days pass. It pains me to think of a time before it's existence in my life. So let's take a moment to all thank God and/or the Universe for the Internet.