Twelfth

On December 11, I hung my xmas lights in the front window of my apartment to mark the beginning of about as much festivity as I care to muster. It’s just a single strand of C7 style LED bulbs on a timer that runs from 5pm to 1am. They even mount on the clips I left from last year.

I’m not religious at all. You know me.

But for some reason, I find myself picking January 5th, “Twelfth Night”, as the date that I’ll take them down. For those that are more into religious history, that’s the Day of Epiphany, when the wise men, previously notified by the angel, finally reach Bethlehem to visit the infant Jesus. To me, it means nothing but a date.

So yeah, why then? I don’t know. Maybe it’s the cozy feeling of tradition, of being right, of doing the dance, even if it’s empty.

Some sects believe that it’s bad faith to leave your holiday decorations up beyond this date. Some would say it’s a sin. Take everything down and distribute the fruits of decoration. To me, that signals that a rule was made somewhere because some people get lazy without rules to motivate them. It’s a push against chaos. You can’t let chaos and sloth win.

Always fight the forces of decay.

It’s in that weird dance that I keep my own chaos at bay. It feels correct. But that’s just me. What’s your reasonless ritual?

X-Miss

Christmas this year was quiet. Some would say lackluster.

Tried to sleep in, but Santa brought me a stuffy nose, which made breathing through my CPAP impossible. So I got up early. Made breakfast. Cleaned the kitchen and took a shower. After dressing, mother called from the family gathering back home. Got to greet everyone through her speakerphone. Short conversation. Hangup, put on boots, go to cafe. Sat to read, and an old friend stopped by; haven’t seen her in forever, and it was good to catch up. Went home, cooked sausages, tortellini with pesto, salad. Put leggings underneath for the night cold and went to the bar. Sat next to a bar friend, but she was busy rolling up D&D character sheets and talking with someone else. Flicked between my phone and the game on the screen, even though I don’t care about football. Joked with the bartenders. They called me “Sleigh bell Shawn” as per the running gag of the night. I spelled it “S-l-a-y B-e-l-l-e Shawn” and double-snapped. “Hey, are you Slay Belle?” “Bitch I might be.” Looked at phones on my phones. Scrolled Mastodon. Now home after a heavy tip, munched on charcuterie, writing a blog.

Today was all touch, no feel.

No gifts. No tree. No luminaria. No contadas. No carols. No dinners. No rosy cheeks next to the fire. All the touchstones of the holiday season are for those who collaborate and plan and care and love and agree to meet. I don’t do that these days. I just walk into a place and see who I can see. This isn’t how adults do things. This is how people of no consequence do things. All the sad Christmas songs of the world, for all the sad sacks of the world.

Happy Holidays to one and….

Always Be Chewing

Talking with a friend tonight about being constantly hungry. I’ve been eating a lot lately. Like, a lot. I keep wondering if I’m going diabetic. Like, am I eating so much that my stomach is just constantly dumping to make room for more?

I mentioned that it’s just not cold enough for my body to behave like this. It doesn’t feel like winter here in Austin. I mean, goddamn, it’s 60F right now at midnight:thirty, 3 days before Christmas. This is not winter.

But it is Solstice. My buddy mentioned that appetite is tied to circadian rhythms, and with the longer nights and shorter days, we’re being triggered to stuff our faces to face the cold months ahead. So I get it. I see that. There are so many cultural festivals and practices that involve food and companionship during these dark nights, and there’s a reason for it.

The only thing that’s saving me from Seasonal Affective Disorder is that I work in front of a large picture window overlooking the Hill Country. The UV coating, though, filters out most of the benefit of sunlight, but I do see it. But my sleep schedule is shifted, so I lose half the daylight by the time I arrive to work, and then I leave the office 3 hours after sunset. It’s a bop.

But winter just doesn’t feel right here. I feel out of step with the change of the seasons. And I’m getting more disconnected thanks to climate change. Sixty degrees!

Should I move to a place that actually experiences seasons? I think so, yes. I miss knowing my place on the calendar (and sometimes I miss Arkansas for only this reason). But if so, how soon? And where?