tonight is very slow at the hotel.
i think i have heard these christmas songs atleast 50 times recycled over.
mixes, different variations, electronic/acoustic/ some classic/ some pop trash.
oh, it's the holidays!
i can't say that I don't love the holidays. I am with someone who perhaps love this time of year more than anyone i have ever known. and it's infectious. it's fun to celebrate when you around others who find joy in it. I think she lives for Christmas. She glows...
i am not quite used to this. my father never celebrated any holiday (yes, he was once of those) and so when my brother and i would live with him, we were never taught the traditions that come with this holiday (let alone, any other holiday). we were taught that pagan holidays were full of sin so we relunctantly agreed to just forget about Santa and presents and holiday music (all the things that my mother had told us to embrace).
my father is a strange man. he grew up living in a small riot, the whirlwind of a life without his own father and a fiesty bible thumper mother. she was hot in the 60s and wore a huge beehive hairdo. my father was a typical teenage boy at the time...into motorcycles, girls, drugs, and music. he started working at a depot when he was 14 (illegally) with his uncle Clyde. One day, my father was packing boxes near the trucks loading dock when he got run over by a big rig that was backing up. apparently, the big rig didn't see my father. at age 14, my father was prounounced dead 3 times by the doctor, only to keep on coming back to life. he broke his back in 3 places, shattered both his legs, and crushed his chest. all at the ripe age of 14 1/2. i don't know much about the accident because i'm not very close to my father and even if i was, he probably wouldn't tell me the details. he is very into privacy and doesn't really like to talk about this particular incident. all i know is the one day when i was about 8 or so, i stumbled onto a picture of him in the hospital bed, with dozens of tubes coming out of his face and arms and chest. he looked so helpless. so fragile. so vulnerable. like he would tell you anything you would ever want to know about him. he looked innocent. i've never seen him that way since. i know that he had to re-learn how to walk completly and stayed at the Stanford hospital with trainers and specialists for nearly 2 years. At age 16, he was out of the hospital with mearly a small limp and a huge scar on his chest. He then began dating my mother (they had known each other for 2 years prior) and had me at the ripe old age of 18. My mother being 18, my father 19. He cheated on her endlessly and bought every cool car and motorcycle there was at the time (i forgot to mention that he was offered a huge settlement from the company after my grandmother sued them for allowing him to work underage. he is a millionaire and will be for the rest of his life).
anyway, wow. what a tangent. all i was meaning to do was just say how strange he is, but i guess the past is where you really learn about a person's characterists and heart and mind so it's all relative. my father, the great hero my father the great dissapointment.
the reason i probably wrote about him is because he probably reminds me of christmas.
the reaon why it took me a while to get back into the whole holiday thing until i met jordyn. her family loves christmas so much it's hard to not fall in love with it.
i remember last year, crying in the parking lot of a "Hollywood Video" after talking to Jordyn about my family. She was so cute. She listened and then told me that she would pick out any movie I wanted, popcorn included.
anyway, jordyn's family loves christmas and it's fun to experience the holidays with them. they participate in a lot of events, parties, gift exchanges, card exchanges, different room themes. I mean, we have 4 christmas trees in our house right now! it's crazy but comforting.
something so calming about a tree at night.
small candles everywhere.