Shouldn't there be, at some part of the dinner, a pause when you think about, maybe even speak about, being grateful for the good things you have in your life? My life is by no means complete... but there are so many things I'm grateful for! And my family isn't Christian, but I wish they would at least think now and then about something besides today's daily problem. I went home and thanked God by myself. But I wished Thanksgiving weren't just a big meal. In years past my Dad would say a few words about thanksgiving, but for many years he hasn't. It's his job. He's the father! He didn't do his job.
My life is not important or large, so the rest of this posting is just about my day, regular stuff that was meaningful to me even though it's kind of trivial.
Sleep! I got extra sleep. Maybe the bruise under my eyes that is caused by a lack of it will go away.
Breakfast! Only cereal, since there was actually so much food last night I am hesitant to make eggs and muffins, my usual weekend treat. My little kitty was thrilled with the turkey I brought him and there is enough in the tupperware to thrill him for days. He, at least, is visibly grateful and pleased!
Off to Santana Row. I hate Valley Fair, but I like Santana Row because it feels so friendly, it's such a welcoming space architecturally, and people look very happy and relaxed there. You can always smell the good food coming from the restaurants along the main street. I scored an excellent parking space and this made me feel extra good.
I wasn't going there to Christmas shop, although I wish I were. My family, as I have mentioned, really doesn't celebrate holidays any more. I ought to be grateful, speaking of gratitude, that I don't have to shop, but I'm NOT. I don't like the empty, gift-less tree at my parents house, and I don't like that for the last several years I am the only one who has gotten everyone else a really nice gift, and I don't like the elimination from the holiday of everything that takes time or money. The family tree last year (and every year for some years) was scraggly and a disgrace - carelessly chosen and grudgingly decorated. It had huge holes and didn't even reach to the ceiling, which is only 8 feet!
My parents choose the first tree they see, unless it's expensive. Even though they are affluent, they pick short, terrible trees. I can scarcely describe how this bothers me. Picking the tree is part of the holiday - getting the best one you can possibly find and making it beautiful with specially chosen ornaments, selected or made over the years with warm memories, is part of the holiday. Just looking at the tree is supposed to be a celebration of your life as a family. Looking at our tree, it looks like nobody cares. It's an empty gesture. Maybe the reason it really bothers me is that I suspect nobody but me does care.
And that's really funny. My family kicked me out a few years ago when my religious beliefs diverged from theirs. You would think I wouldn't care, after that, even though I've since been welcomed back into the fold. Instead, my permanent memory and sense of separation makes me care more.
Anyway, so I wasn't shopping for gifts. It bothers me!! That's totally not how Christmas is supposed to be. I resent having to celebrate Christmas their way, which is to not celebrate it at all.
I can't seem to get past that. Holidays and families are tough.
ANYWAY, so then I went to Anthropologie to return a beautiful sweater that was too small. I had gotten the sweater online, and initially intended to exchange it, but the next size up was too big! So I just got a refund. The refund was much more than I expected, and that made me feel happy too. I had thought I was returning the less expensive of two sweaters I ordered. Somehow it felt like I had gotten ahead for the month with no effort.
Returned!
The people working in the store were so nice. The girl at the register was so friendly to me that I wished we were friends. I am constantly meeting people who cause me to think "Oh, I wish I had known you in high school!" Maybe I would be a little less geeky, a little more easily able to relate to and trust normal people. At least I am glad to meet them now, even the ones who I only talk to for a minute.
Many of the people I meet are much younger than I am. They can't tell that I'm much older. I am very grateful for this. It is like God has given me a way to have interactions and friendships I couldn't have when I actually was the proper age.
Sometimes I think I am like a strange animal. I fit in, when other animals recognize my similarities and fail to recognize the differences. Surely there is at least one other out there like me. If there isn't, then that whole future family thing won't happen, and my dreadful fear of being found in a dusty, deserted attic with a half-eaten can of dog food in my mummified hand will come true.
Then I went back up to Cupertino and bought some grain for my horse. At the register, I saw a little container of "kitty grass", which is a fluffy patch of grass growing in a little pot. Wow! My little kitty is crippled, and sometimes I can tell he is nosing around my tiny rental porch for grass that he would like to nibble. Now he has some. What a find! I was considering digging some up in an obscure part of the complex and transplanting it. Now I am saved from what I ultimately consider to be a low act, although I would certainly have done it for my darling little cat.
Kitty grass. Yum!
Then I came home and cooked dinner. I was simply obsessed with trying a new recipe I found online, but if I cooked it tonight, it wouldn't be fresh enough for lunch on Monday and I want to cook a lot of it at once. I'll cook it on Sunday. I can't wait!!
Then I practiced piano. But first I checked to make sure my neighbor wasn't home. I'm getting better, but not so great yet that I want to torture innocent people with my efforts.
Then, I watched "Maxed Out". This is an Indie documentary about individual credit debt in our nation, the predatory practices of banks and credit card companies, and the complicity of our sickening politicians with those practices and their results.
It was definitely worth watching, although I've had it on my counter from Netflix for several weeks. Who wants to watch a documentary when they come home in the evening??! I'll watch Ratatouille the night it arrives!
It left me with a frightened, empty feeling. Our politicians are so complicit, so deeply compromised by their corporate ties. It is almost no longer possible in America for uneducated (or even educated) people to afford a regular life - a house, a vehicle, a family, and bills for food and energy - without debt. And this is going to get worse, because fewer and fewer can afford college. But our sickening politicians, our sickening president (his body language literally screams his awareness of the appallingly dishonest things he is doing and saying) cop out when it comes to restricting, limiting or making credit card companies responsible for their deceptive and predatory practices in any way.
This film was criticized for downplaying personal responsibility. I agree that the criticism is valid. However, there is a balance, and the balance should be a fair and equal one, between a person who should be responsible and a company that should be just and fair. That balance is tipped heavily in favor of the companies, which have become unbelievably dishonest, and the human cost is growing.
Some particularly awful moments in the film:
- the Protestant pastor, who looked exactly like a banking executive, telling his congregation that they could tithe their way to financial solvency. As a Christian, I found that eerie, and terrible. Put that man next to the truly holy Pope John Paul II, and he would instantly corrode into a burnt puff of smoke.
- Louis Freeh, MBNA executive, thanking the Congressional hearing for their "dedicated efforts" in probing predatory practices. Since the hearing, run by politicians, deliberately cut short the time when credit card executives might have to answer for the things they were doing, none of them had to answer any questions. Louis Freeh used to be the head of the FBI. He is no longer in that position because he was so obviously discredited over the course of his appalling career, that even the government couldn't justify keeping him there. How do you think his skills and ethics there merited his becoming a credit card banking executive? His position is a horrible indicator of just how deeply our government is tied to corporate interests.
- When the water finally got low enough in the bay that they finally found and dragged out the dripping, dessicated car of a girl's mother who disappeared, leaving a trail of shocking credit card debt behind her. The bones were still in it.
I have very little debt now, but in college I fell for on-campus credit card application practices. The pressure on young people to look right, to have the right accessories, to appear successful, is enormous. The pressure on women to look alluring, to wear the right clothes, to make the right visual statement in any situation from lunch in the dorm cafeteria to a charity wine and cheese brunch at the Getty or a night in the Hollywood bars is staggering. I had a credit card bill so large that it took almost all of the grocery money my parents were sending. I looked anorexic, but it wasn't because I didn't want food. I didn't know about charity kitchens, and I was starving almost to death.
Those practices have real consequences for real people who are too young and too vulnerable to handle them.
"The Smartest Guys in the Room", a documentary about Enron, is also on my list. I'm going to have to lean heavily on animated comedies after this double dose to recover my normal happy outlook.
That was pretty much my day. Tomorrow I'm going to go ride my beautiful horse.
My start-up life is still unstable, and now three people have left the company from my five-person team. To stay in a position when I no longer respect the company is very difficult for me, but my job search has not yet produced a better position. I don't want to just move into another situation that isn't any better. However, they know I'm looking and that makes my situation very tenuous indeed.
As I made this entry I saw doves in my pine tree outside the window. I wondered where they went! They used to be in my orange tree, but it was vigorously trimmed by the landlord after a request from the townhome association.
My day ends with prayers. Someone I prayed for got a wonderful job and I am very thankful for that. It's a bigger deal for men than for women. I pray that this Christmas will bring things that are special and good.
deborah64554
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