New Moon Photos
Some photos of the new (or not-so-new-anymore) moon from the front steps of our apartment.
B celebrates frugally
My boyfriend (B) got into law school. We only recently found this out, so we’re still in the accepted-to-law-school glow.
Today, B and I were grocery shopping. B was looking at the cheeses (he’s the cheese chooser of our household), and said, “You know what, I just got into law school, I’m getting the Dubliner cheddar instead of the regular stuff.” Then he looks at the sparkling cranberry soda. “Nah,” he says. “Too much.”
Oh, B, ever the frugal spender!
Merry Christmas (to those who celebrate it)
And to those who don’t, my best non-Christmas wishes to you too!
Though Christmas is not an “official” holiday in China, there are increasing amounts of participation and unofficial recognition of it, albeit in ways that do not necessarily resemble American Christmas traditions. Here’s a video montage on Danwei of Christmas in Beijing.
Also, though I hope this won’t make me seem like a negative Nelly, among the lovely gifts I received was one that I did not particularly appreciate: a donation in my name to an evangelical Christian charity whose primary purpose is to spread Christianity to impoverished parts of the world. Ugh. Maybe next time I come to B’s family’s Christmas celebrations, B and I should wear a T-shirt disclaimer: “We are not Christians. We do not want to hear about Christ saving the world (because non-Christian earthlings do exist, thanks). We do not want to go to church. We do not support or look favorably upon any attempts at proselytizing, towards ourselves or any others.”
Or alternatively, maybe our charitable donations in their names should be to Planned Parenthood, Gay Marriage advocacy groups, and various neo-Pagan organizations. Also Satan.
But of course, I say nothing and smile politely. And try to put it aside quickly before my anger is too visable. I am ever the pacifist.
The Winter Solstice
It’s the Winter Solstice, perfectly met with a lovely snow storm that has continued through the weekend. Tomorrow my goal is to get some photos of the huge icicles hanging from our roof. B fortunately already took down the ones above the walkway; though normally I would have found this a little silly at most likely unnecessary, these icicles should be classified lethal weapons.
I have to say I love the Winter Solstice. It’s my second favorite pagan holiday, second only to Imbolc. This may surprise many who know me, because while I adore snow and appreciate four seasons, and I also adore wooly winter items (especially those that I’ve knit), my favorite weather is a warm, breezy summer day, full of deep blue skies and the verdant green that overwhelms this valley. I hate being cold, and avoid it whenever possible. I hate it when the fall gets nippy enough to make walks unpleasant, and when the lengthening darkness creeping around morning and evening makes weekday walks thoroughly impossible. I hate leaving my job after sunset (which seems to happen around 4-4:15pm), knowing that the lack of sun cuts out the late afternoon lull between work and evening. I don’t have SAD, but I can feel something inside me pining away all winter, and every year there’s an internal explosion of ecstatic joy when the weather is warm enough to put away the winter coats and scarves. Another winter defeated, another warm summer ahead. Then autumn comes, making me feel the inevitable sadness of knowing something good is almost over, like an old graying dog who has seen better days.
Yet despite this, my two favorite pagan holidays are on the opposite end of the year as my beloved summer, well past autumn’s warm colors and long before spring’s first sprouts. I love that, in the darkest part of the year, people almost instinctively gather in large, cozy numbers to feast, to chat, to gift gives, to spread cheer and goodwill, and to decorate with as many lights as their electrical outputs can stand. We dress in vibrant crimson, eat unhealthy fattening and sweet delights, talk each others’ ears off, and give little tokens of appreciation, affection, or at the very least forced familial love. Warmth and spice fill the air.
And, most importantly, so does light. I love the light. The blinding sun of summer is nothing to the beauty of candle-lit windows and light-stranded trees. The warmth of summer days is nothing to piles of blankets and someone to snuggle with. They say that the bad times are there to make you appreciate to good, and that’s definitely true of the seasons. Snow aside, winter sucks, but its cold, dark face is exactly what makes all those pretty twinkling lights gorgeous. I love daytime hours, but I’d rather gaze at the darkest night sky than at the clouds, because nothing compares to the beauty of stars, the millions and billions of eyes from the heavens. Those little lights in the dark are beacons of hope (which is needed most in despair), of wonder (most brilliant when life is dull), of goodwill (most appreciated when bitterness is overwhelming). To me, they are the stuff of grace, of faith, and of everything good.
That is the beauty of the winter holidays. The flickering candle of light, warmth, and cheer most precious in the dark, cold winter nights. It is both a comfort to know that in the winter there is warmth, and an inspiration to be the light, the warmth and comfort, when surrounded by darkness.
Snow!
The college closed at 11am yesterday — the last day before the week-long holiday for staff. Those first few hours of paid holiday time was soooo needed.
Anyway, it closed early because of a lovely snow storm, which has given us many inches of fluffy whiteness. I took the opportunity to use my new camera, which has an awesome zoom, and thus I got these shots from my living room window of a family playing in the snow (across a small field from our apartment):
23-hour layover?!
I’m such a dope. I accidentally booked a mid-morning flight on a Sunday from the local airport to Chicago, and a mid-morning flight on a Monday from Chicago to Shanghai. Yes, that means a 23.5 hour layover. D’oh! Fortunately a call to United fixed that, and they were nice enough to skip the service charge, but just in case you all didn’t realize it was possible to easily book yourself a 23.5 hour layover through those online booking systems — it’s possible!
Yeah, that would have been the perfect prelude to the 15-hour flight from Chicago to Shanghai. Sheesh. At least it’s direct. Then from Shanghai, a night train to the city I’m teaching in.
Plane ticket: ordered
Wow, hitting “submit” to order my flights for going to China was really nerve-racking. Sure, I’ve been planning this for a while, but now it feels final. I leave February 1. Done.
It was also weird because ordering the flights also had the conversation of B and I deciding if he would take me to the airport Sunday morning or Monday morning. Subtext: after taking me to the airport, would he prefer coming home to an empty apartment with signs of my departure everywhere, or would he rather go straight to work to deal with a job he hates and emotions of his girlfriend leaving. That was a depressing thought, especially knowing that that day, and this next semester, will be a lot harder for him than for me. At least I’m escaping my crappy job and I’ll be pretty busy with work and networking/socializing in China.
I’ve cried once so far about leaving B and the U.S. I expect it is the first of a good few crying occassions. Not only am I sad about being apart from B, but as he puts it, I don’t handle instability in my life very well.
