To say I enjoyed a traditional Jewish Christmas might be a bit of a stretch. I did not exactly go to the movies, although I did watch The Shawshank Redemption on DVD. Nor did I venture out for Chinese food, although I did microwave a package of frozen vegetables that included a little packet of Asian style sauce. The dog and I walked into town, which was eerily empty except for the cluster of cars surrounding the movie theatre. It's a Jewish neighborhood; I assume the underground parking lot was already full.
I am relieved to have Christmas behind me. It's not my holiday, but I couldn't help feeling like a bit of a loser knowing that most other folks were either stuffing themselves silly with sugary cookies while opening presents or lying on a beach in Puerto Vallarta. Or at least out with friends for a movie and Chinese food. I have no burning desire to be engaged in any of those activities, but still. Now, to top it all off, I have to endure the days leading up to New Year's, days filled with way too much free time that I will no doubt use to conduct a pointless referendum on my life.
Reflection sucks. I thought about that as I looked in the mirror this morning, squinting at the reflection of my "just got out of bed" face. Horrifying, but it could be a lot worse. They say the Lord works in mysterious ways, but sometimes her logic is astounding. Like the way she has our eyes begin to struggle with up close vision just as our faces fall prey to gravity and reduced elasticity. The Lord's embargo on plumping facial oils coincides with our difficulty in seeing anything closer than arm's length. Which is why I sometimes practically press my face into the glass, just so I cannot see the wrinkles.
It's the other kind of reflection, though, the hours pondering the things I have not yet accomplished and the things I would really like to accomplish in the coming year but am pretty sure I won't, that makes the horror of the reflection in the mirror seem like child's play. All the should'ves and the shoulds, the self destructive focus on personal failures, real and imagined -- the kind of reflection that makes me want to take the mirror I have conjured up and smash it to pieces. Again, the Lord's ways aren't mysterious at all; there's a reason she has us drink ourselves under the table on New Year's Eve and wake up on New Year's Day with a throbbing hangover. It's all about survival; in our frantic search for Advil and coffee we forget about our false promises, at least for another year. It almost makes me rethink my disdain for organized religion.
At least I am interacting with humans again, now that Christmas is over and stores are open. My conversation with the Starbucks barista seemed downright meaningful compared to the limited exchange at the drive-thru, and later today I will visit the cable company service center to discuss an entirely inane situation. The conversation will be unproductive, but it will no doubt be very long. I am purposely going today, not waiting until after New Year's, when I will have forgotten all my reflections and my resolutions to be nice.
hahaha cute
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