I had this idea to look back at the posts of Christmas pasts and was going to blog about where I was and how it got me to where I am – but it just got depressing. I can see all the happiness I kept trying for, just to fail. Is that what the holidays bring me? Memories of all my mistakes and failures? Such a shame. So many good memories in there, somewhere, but I didn’t feel like searching for them. I didn’t feel like remembering anything else from before.

I successfully completed the semester. Fifteen weeks of different kinds of anxiety, stress and torture. Fifteen weeks of reading, writing, editing, learning, writing, questioning, failing, succeeding, and after all of it I am unsure of how I actually feel about all of it. I met some people that are potential friends, and that’s nice. I met people I am glad to forget.

Now, Christmas approaches and I’ll be working all week, excluding Christmas–the building is closed. There is a tree, decorated and lit in what is currently called “The Christmas Room.” Ro did such a great job decorating. She does such a great job in general in making our apartment feel home-y, and less like an apartment with people just renting rooms in it. It’s nice having my friends so close to me. There are presents beneath the tree, none are from me. I didn’t even complete the presents for my siblings last year, that’s how poor and bah-humbug I was then, now I’m poor and a bit sad (vs. angry) because I don’t get to go home for Christmas. I thought my first Christmas away from home would be because I was on tour with a show, or in Europe with John or something fantastic like that. Reality has set in and told me, with no sugar coat, that I will not be with my family this year. The only saving grace, is I am with friends. These friends have been in my life for 20 years and in a very real way, are my family.

Music has been very important lately. The iPod Rik let me have, the radio, the songs on my iTunes. Some of the songs play out of no where and they trigger thoughts and memories, that’s what shuffle does right?. Some are sharp and stabbing when the first note begins, some are warm and comforting, the way mom n dadda’s bed was when I was a kid and sick. I miss playing my piano. I don’t know if I could play anything now, that I’ve written or learned, but I know my hands have a longing for the keys. I miss singing. Karaoke or not, live or not (live being live accompaniment), I’m sure I’m losing the ability to sing, which is a shame in my eyes.

I have good days and bad days about the kind of life I have now. I find myself comparing others and their lives to me. Their weddings, and marriages, their baby showers and kids birthdays. Their jobs, their careers (as they ARE different). I just feel so behind, or I feel like the loser who didn’t get her act together early on. I can only be where I am though, right? That seems like such an easy way out though, but…when i think about it – it’s not easy…at all.

I’m not dating anyone, still. I left CA attached to someone, and that was over less than a month after I landed in NY. It’s been a good thing, and a hard thing to feel the difference between alone and lonely. I don’t think it has to do with co-dependency “thing” but more about, the option to have someone to curl up to and read a book on the couch, or watch a movie, or sit in a coffee shop and just talk.

Time is such a _______ thing, isn’t it?