I survived Massachusetts, returning home with much holiday warmth. Mostly in the form of fever. Damn family gatherings and the collective weakening of disease immunity.
It was nice to talk with the extended family members that I do have a fondness for. My cousin is an LMHC (Licensed Mental Health Counselor--practically a social worker), so we got to relate as colleagues for the first time, which was really cool. My dad told me that he'd basically been drooling to talk to me for the last month. It's probably true about most professions. There's just something about talking with another person in your field, sharing the lingo and swapping anecdotes that you can't get from anyone else.
I also got to talk to my cousin with whom I haven't had an extended conversation in a few years. By far, she's the cousin that I can relate to best and it was really nice to catch up with her after all this time. And now that we're older and have independent transportation capabilities, we can work around all of the family politics crap and maybe see each other once in awhile.
So, all in all, that was Christmas. Stressful and literally sickening, but not without its high points (like helping my younger cousins make balloon animals!) I'm glad to be back home, recuperating and waiting for my next adventure. The first significant meal I will eat since Thursday may be heavy German food tomorrow morning, so we'll just see how that goes.
( 1:31 PM ) Meghan
Sunday, December 22, 2002
Unexpectedly, I was able to put my minimal skills de Espanol to good use last night. I had to write to my grandmother's neighbors, explaining to them that she did not know that old beer is not consumable and please don't drink the six-pack that she gave them that afternoon, potentially purchased before I was born. Man...if you had asked me three years ago why I was taking Spanish, this scenario would not have come to mind. Feliz Navidad, mis muchachos.
( 2:24 PM ) Meghan
Friday, December 20, 2002
What could only top off such a wonderful evening is hearing that the boy I danced with last weekend asked about me. While this in and of itself means nothing, dude! He asked about me!
( 12:55 PM ) Meghan
Quite contrary to the tradition, I couldn't come home for Christmas this year. I thought I wouldn't be able to...I mean, you can't come home if you never left, right? Well, not so much, really. Upon gathering with my friends in the simplest of ways, I found that we can always make new places feel like home again.
Home for the holidays,
I believe I've missed each and every face.
Come on and play my music,
Let's turn on the love light in the place.
It's time I found myself
Totally surrounded in your circles.
Whoa, my friends,
Please, celebrate me home.
Give me a number,
Please, celebrate me home.
Play me one more song
That I'll always remember
And I can recall
Whenever I find myself too all alone,
I can sing me home.
--Kenny Loggins, Celebrate Me Home ( 1:25 AM ) Meghan
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
It must have been the mistletoe,
The lazy fire, the fallen snow,
The magic in the frosty air,
That feeling everywhere.
It must have been the pretty lights
That glistened in the silent night,
Or maybe just the stars so bright
That shined above you...
Our first Christmas,
More than we'd been dreaming of.
Old Saint Nicholas had his fingers crossed
That we would fall in love.
It could have been the holiday,
The midnight ride upon the sleigh,
The countryside all dressed in white,
That crazy snowball fight.
It could have been the steeple bell
That wrapped us up within its spell.
It only took one kiss to know
It must have been the mistletoe...
It must have been the mistletoe,
The lazy fire, the fallen snow,
The magic in the frosty air
That made me love you.
On Christmas Eve a wish came true,
The night I fell in love with you.
It only took one kiss to know
It must have been the mistletoe.
--Barbara Mandrell, It Must Have Been the Mistletoe ( 12:20 AM ) Meghan
Monday, December 16, 2002
"Carpe diem," I said to myself. And then I asked a boy to dance and he said yes! It was simply lovely...he held me properly and conversed charmingly. Until we were so cruelly interrupted by the "Locomotion Train." We did not speak again for the remainder of the night, which I can only assume means that he did not find me considerably impressive. Or felt a conflict of interest, as he shares a classroom with my mom. Which come to think of it, may have been his motivation to dance with me in the first place. But I'd prefer to think it's because he couldn't resist my feminine wiles.
All in all, I had a surprisingly nice evening. Who knew that high-school teachers could tear up a dance floor like that? And unlike the last Christmas dance I attended, the DJ dained to play Christmas music (wonder of wonders), beautifully interspersed with Swing, Sinatra, and the typical other numbers (e.g., YMCA). I will dare to add that I was Queen of the Electric Slide, as everyone else was looking to me for guidance of movement and rhythm. I win this round.
And if nothing else...damn. I looked good.
( 1:53 AM ) Meghan
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
I'm getting tired of snow days. More accurately, I'm getting tired of having to schedule make-up days for practicum. I want only to get my desk cleared off and begin my thought-free Christmas vacation. Which I don't think is too bloody much to ask.
Well, Saturday is the big night. I'm going to my mom's school's Christmas dinner-dance to meet the hot, young, (available) male teachers. I'd say it's bordering on pathetic, but I prefer to reframe it as smart self-brokering with available resources.
And it's scaring the crap out of me. Anyone have any advice?
( 6:56 PM ) Meghan
Monday, December 09, 2002
I went to see my grandfather's grave at Quantico for the first time today. I only just realized that this is the only time I've ever done that--gone to see the memorial of someone I once knew. It was strange. I usually get freaked out in graveyards or near bodies. Since I was about six years old, I've had this weird phobia of the dead (which I can pinpoint to a specific incident, but that's another story). So much of a fear that I couldn't even kneel by my grandfather's body for more than a minute at the wake. He looked too natural, like he was breathing and would sit up and start talking any minute. Thoughts like that scare the hell out of me, and I wish they wouldn't. It's hard enough to grieve without being frightened out of your mind.
But today was okay. I think that the blanket of still-pure snow made it feel more like a place of peace and rest than plots of despair or fields of horror that I've always gotten from movies and nightmares. And the peace that I saw...it gave me a chance to soak in the reality. To see the name on a symbol of memory that I had always seen before on birthday cards and Cookie's vet notices--symbols of life.
My grandmother told me as we were leaving. "You know, your grandfather sure did think the world of you and Ian." And that got me. I feel terrible because I don't think that I earned the world being thought of me. I wish I'd called him more often, gave him more hugs, asked him to tell me about the war instead of silently rolling my eyes and feigning interest. But now I want to reconcile for it. I can't go back, but I can honor him by being more like him--absolutely and unconditionally selfless. I wish it were as easy as he made it look.
What comforts me the most is knowing that there is one who knows how my grandfather is doing now...and she's not talking. My grandmother says that for about six months after he died, Cookie would run to the door, barking and wagging her tail at what appeared to be nothing. Although, I suspect that it was Grandpa, trying to send the thumbs-up. Despite my feeble guesses, Cookie knows far better than we do, and probably wonders why we didn't raise a fuss ourselves upon her alert. Well, Cookie would be the one to notice. Grandpa was the one she could always count on to feed her from the table. Always.
( 11:33 PM ) Meghan
Sunday, December 08, 2002
While [Jesus] was speaking, a woman from the crowd called out and said to him, "Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed." He replied, "Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it."
--Luke 11: 27-28
Many people confuse today’s feast as the celebration of Jesus’ conception. This is celebrated on the feast of the Annunciation on March 25, nine months before Christmas. Today’s feast celebrates Mary’s conception by Joachim and Anne. Her birthday is nine months from now on September 8.
--Catholic-Forum.com, Daily E-pistle
( 11:51 AM ) Meghan
Friday, December 06, 2002
Mmmm...salmon jerky. Tasty, but making me miss my roommate.
Because she introduced me to fish jerky. Just to be sure.
I am officially done with all classwork for the semester with my final monstrosity of a paper mailed off this afternoon. Duties at work with a new client are beginning to pile up, though, so I don't quite feel like it's time to rest. This weekend will be spent getting myself reorganized in order to prepare adequately for the therapeutic deluge. Shredding is in order, I say!
But I do know that I have earned some Velveeta Shells 'n Cheese and a movie of some sort this evening. If nothing else, for enduring my own slack-ass work habits.
( 7:02 PM ) Meghan
Justin got published! Go here to read his words of wisdom.
I have not had a relaxing snow day for at least a year now. It used to be the most wonderful feeling, waking up to the alarm and hearing "Fairfax County Public Schools are closed today," "Classes at James Madison University are cancelled." And I would roll over and go back to sleep to rest up for the day's remainder of snow angels and hot chocolate.
So rarely can I find this experience as a grad student. VCU was cancelled yesterday, but we were expected to attend practicum if our agency was open. Make up your minds, people! Are the roads dangerous or not? I cannot figure out why my school is willing to risk its students' lives for the sake of the free labor we offer, but not for class. Social work is risky business to begin with, and if I'm going to take a hit in the line of duty, I want it to be from the knife or bullet of a deranged client, not because I skidded into a telephone pole on my way to the office.
Back to the point, I did not go into the office yesterday, even though my practicum agency follows the Fairfax County Government schedule. But regardless of the policies and procedures I am told to follow, I still had a choice whether or not to go in because I am a human being with rational thought. Even the Federal Government was on liberal leave. So I didn't get into the car and instead watched it pile high with snow. I'm no fool. I can't help people tomorrow if I'm dead today.
So since I have been in practicum, instead of experiencing the peaceful helplessness of being able to roll over in bed because my place of education/business is closed, I end up in restless slumber, feeling guilty that I shied from duty due to self-preservation. It just makes me feel kind of lousy, knowing that I'm going to be home and comfortable rather than helping clients because the water got a little too cold.
But damn, it sure is beautiful out there. Maybe my clients stayed home to make snow angels too. Hmm...precipitation therapy?
( 3:47 PM ) Meghan
Tuesday, December 03, 2002
The morning after the all-nighter: pure and evil discombobulation.
*Overheard in class yesterday:
Student: "I had a client tell me once that Jesus was landing in an hour."
Professor: "That'd be nice."
*I have discovered that caffeine has an effect on me after all. And I thank the Powers that Be. Along with Folgers and General Foods International Coffees.
*Today is the anniversary of my confirmation. Knowledge, piety, strength, counsel, wisdom, understanding, and fear of the Lord. Nine years with seven gifts in accepting the challenge of a living faith in a loving God. Any way you work the numbers, I hope I'm measuring up.
*I'm so close to the end, I can taste it. I think there's a cherry filling involved.
*Did I mention discombobulation?
( 12:21 PM ) Meghan
