Resolutions...

Yesterday as I was walking out the door, leaving work, a fella gave me a GREAT idea for one of my (many) New Year’s resolutions.

There are 4,000 people who work on the “Countrywide Campus.” For some strange reason I do not find the people here particularly friendly… it’s not like they’re mean… they’re just not friendly.

As some of you know, everyday I eat lunch by my self – and not by choice. During the “lunch rush” I have walked up to groups of people and asked if I could join them, then once I take my seat, no one speaks to me (much less makes eye contact) they simply carry on with “their conversation.” The same is true when you enter the elevator... I always wish the person(s) who enter with or after me a “good morning” or “have a good day” or “gee, it’s cold in here” but most of the time, no one talks to me. The exception to this lack of friendliness is in the microwave room (there are like 10 microwaves in there). The people in there ALWAYS talk to me… I guess it’s cause we have something in common: we all bring our own lunch. (Theirs is typically much better looking than my Lean Cuisine)

Okay, I know, I’m rambling; I’ll get back to the point. SO, I typically leave work right at 4:45 (which bugs the hell out of my co-worker – but that’s another story) anyhow, I’ve learned that leaving at any later adds 20 minutes to my commute since I have to wait that long just to get out of the parking garage (and some think getting out of the Galleria parking garage at Christmas time was bad!) Okay… MY POINT: I always walk out with at least a handful of people, if not an actual stampede. The walk from my office to the parking garage is prolly like ¼ - ½ a mile.

Yesterday as I was walking out and held open the door for a few people, this fella says, “I’m going to get a hair cut.” I figured maybe he was talking to someone next to him… or maybe on his “Blue Tooth” enabled cell, but nope… he was talking to me. At first, I just sort of smiled at him to make sure I was the person he was talking to… and he gave me a look like, “so aren’t you going to respond?” So I said, “Today sounds like a great day to get your hair cut!” and so our conversation continued for ¼ mile. When I got to my car, I chuckled at the peculiarity of the conversation I had just had. (No, Eliz, I do not think he is my future spouse.)

Anyhow, in an effort to make more people chuckle on their drive home, I am going to come up with a few oddities or the like to discuss with the person(s) with whom I amble at the end of the day. I think I’ll ask, “What are you going to have for dinner?” or “Why is it that time seems to go by more quickly the older people get?” or "What are your New Year's Resolutions?" or I’ll tell them my plans for the evening (assuming the plans are noteworthy).

What would you discuss with strangers to make them smile?

Yes, Virginia...

Hey... Did you ever know ALL the words to this quote? It's pretty great...

"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy." Francis P. Church

Here's the text in its entirety:

Editorial Page, New York Sun, 1897

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus?Thank God he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!!

When I am old...

Last year I was at the grocery doing some shopping, I think I was at Central Market (but perhaps it was the Kroger in South Irving) regardless – the store was playing Christmas music at a volume where it could easily be heard. I think the song playing was “Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow” (or something of the like) but I know it was Dean Martin singing.

Anyhow, I was enjoying the music as I was checking the dates on the milk cartons and turned to see this elderly woman (prolly like 75 or maybe even 80)… anyhow she was sort of humming along with the music and then started dancing right there in the aisle. She saw me looking at her, and simply said, “I LOVE Dean Martin… and I love this time of the year…” and I told her, “I love Dean Martin too… and I hope that one day, I’ll be dancing in the aisles.”

There are many times that I think that I should start compiling a list of things to remember when I am old. I’ll put on there things like: Do not be bitter or grumpy. Stop driving. Play as much BINGO as you like. Don’t forget to smile. (I love when my grandma smiles…)

I hope that when I am old, and toward the end of my journey, I’ll still remember that lady, and will remember to be cheerful, and will remember to dance in the grocery store aisles.

Saint Nicholas...

Did you know that Saint Nicholas is the patron Saint of Marriageable Maidens?

I suppose it makes sense, considering the following popular story of Saint Nick:

One story tells of a poor man with three daughters. In those days a young woman's father had to offer prospective husbands something of value—a dowry. The larger the dowry, the better the chance that a young woman would find a good husband. Without a dowry, a woman was unlikely to marry. This poor man's daughters, without dowries, were therefore destined to be sold into slavery. Mysteriously, on three different occasions, a bag of gold appeared in their home-providing the needed dowries. The bags of gold, tossed through an open window, are said to have landed in stockings or shoes left before the fire to dry. This led to the custom of children hanging stockings or putting out shoes, eagerly awaiting gifts from Saint Nicholas. Sometimes the story is told with gold balls instead of bags of gold. That is why three gold balls, sometimes represented as oranges, are one of the symbols for St. Nicholas. And so St. Nicholas is a gift-giver.

Dear Saint Nicholas, on this, your feast day, please pray for me and all fair marriageable maidens... and if it be God's will, find for me a real hunk of a gentleman.

Friends...

My last week (or so) has been full of friends…

One friend has a new boyfriend who was in town visiting from Chicago. I found that after a couple of dinners, several beers one night out at the Londoner, and a breakfast at Joe’s (where Irving Meets and Eats), my friend’s new boyfriend is a gem. He seems to know what he wants and what it’ll take to get there. There does not seem to be much he is afraid of. He has a genuine interest in people. And perhaps, what endured me most to him was that he always had a protective arm around my friend, and looked at her adoringly often.

Late in the week last week, I got a phone call at work from the little pumpkins I adore… and was only able to talk with them (and their mama) for 5 minutes and while I did not get to speak to them long, I was thankful for their call… it’s amazing how the voices of little ones can cheer me up for the whole week… and their mama’s simple (quick) encouragement help me through a slump.

The weekend was filled with Christmas parties… the both of which have become traditions. On Saturday night, we celebrated the 10th Annual Christmas Caroling Party, held by Rojo. This party has been witness to new loves, new children, an old apartment, a new house, new neighbors, new roommates, old friends, new friends. We all shared in the traditional fare; and shared our “five finger” traditions, and those of Rojo’s sister, we sipped Champagne (well… some of us sipped, other’s of us were a tad bit more indulgent), we Christmas Caroled, and for me, rang in the beginning of the holiday season. And on Sunday, another tradition with new, old friends… or at least one in the making.

Last night was dinner with an old friend from my old company… we talked about work and shortly realized that the things we talk about best are those things other than work. We talked about Italy… about Florence… about Dante… about seeing things through other’s eyes… about how nice it was that we ever became friends (which could have been considered unlikely) and how nice it was that we have remained friends.

This morning I prayed the Divine Office, a commitment I made to do through Advent (and perhaps beyond). I include in my morning prayers, the intentions of each of my friends and their families.

In the middle of the journey of our lives… both for me, and for Dante, friends and community help and guide us as we journey through the temptations of hell, the difficult work of purgatory, all in hopes of experiencing the bliss of heaven.

My guide and I came on that hidden road
to make our way back into the bright world;
and with no care for any rest, we climbed
he first, I following until I saw,
through a round opening, some of those things
of beauty Heaven bears. It was from there
that we emerged, to see once more the stars.
From the Inferno, Canto XXXIIII, line 133 - 139

The Next Blog Thing...

So this morning I was doing the "Next Blog" Thing... and came upon this GREAT blog (more in the very funny, love her humor sense... than deep, philosophical sense, although I'd bet there's some of that too). Here's a tid bit: "And then there is the whole Martha Stewart thing. Let's face it, Martha rocks. I think am her sometimes. We even have the same haircut. Big difference though is that when I burn something I say, "Fucking hell!" whereas she might say something like "Whoopsie Daisy!" Though now that I think about it, she probably says "fucking hell" too. She is a first rate criminal afterall..."

I did, however, realize that you must be very careful when doing the "Next Blog" thing... especially while at work. There's some doozies out there.