Candlelight Thoughts:

Happy Hanukkah, to those who celebrate.

I sometimes think it's unfortunate that Hanukkah and Christmas fall so close together on the calendar. Hanukkah is a minor holiday, and yet sometimes it seems to get a LOT of attention and fanfare (I'm writing this shortly after finding a lighted spinning dreidel lawn ornament and BB&B) for no other reason than to show Christmas what's up.

Well. That's not my battle. We just have a simple menorah, a few dreidels, and a handful of gelt. But the simplicity is welcome at this chaotic time of year: what better way to spend the darkest nights of the year, than gathering with your loved ones and marveling at their faces in the candlelight?

Hanukkah is not meant to compete with Christmas. It's quiet, simple, just a slight departure from the norm. But it is lovely. Right when most people are frazzled with lists, wrapping, and breaking the bank, we get to lie back, order crab meat cheese wontons, and pretend it's snowing.

And, can I just say, if it were to compete with Christmas, Hanukkah would definitely win the decorations award. Blue and silver look way better than red and green. I mean, come on.

Waiting...

... for E to finish his conference call so we can finish The Wire episode that is paused right at what is probably the MOST EXCITING MOMENT!!

Well. I've been meaning to write anyway.

I've never been that "in" to the holidays. I mean, I loved them, and loved making things for my loved ones and taking time to visit with family. But they always seemed to fly by in a flurry of late nights, pricked fingers, and stacks of cards I always meant to respond to. I think I resisted some of the obligation that comes with the holidays.

The last few years, that has changed. Oddly. You would think, as a new wife, I would feel even more obligated to do things like send handwritten cards and bake mini pumpkin pies for my husband to take to work. And, because I resist obligation (it's always suspicious), you would think I'd get a little more Scrooge-ier than ever.

Oh. That and the fact that I don't even technically celebrate Christmas anymore. It's Hanukkristmas. Or Christmukkah. Whatevs.

But actually, it has been the opposite. A few years ago, we started hosting "The Great Day After Thanksgiving ______." (We never finished the name, "party" wasn't quite right, E thinks "game night" is lame, we just call it "Day After Thanksgiving Night). And I am SO excited. I think maybe because now E's friends are starting to feel a little more like my own, and our families are not as new to each other, because we're one year further into our own little groove as a new, budding family.

That's right. Family. Holy mother!

I don't mean that in the 'guess-what-I'm-pregnant' way. I just mean it in the 'we're-in-this-together' way. The fact that we're beyond our 'let's go our separate ways for the holidays and I'll see you on New Years' phase. I guess we passed that a few years ago, but we're also just far enough along to be able to look back fondly on the years behind us, and have a few traditions of our own, and we're not too far along that we can't remember anything, or have time to sit around the tree in the dark, sharing a mug of tea, twisting our fingers together under a blanket.

I think the time between newlywed-dom and parenthood is a very special time. It is, for the time being, delicious. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now if he could just get down here so I can get some snuggles with my eggnog and finish this freaking episode!! I mean, can you believe what happened to Dee?

Holiday Blues

Don't get me wrong, I'm feeling the festivities. Third annual DATN invites are out.

And I do look forward to it, even though I won't make it out to Georgia this year... the lovely lady in purple is graduating in May, so we'll be going then.

I hate having family thousands of miles away!!

Monday: Balance

That's my dedication this week.

In my yoga class, every week the class begins with a dedication (this week, it's humility) and then we're all supposed to think about our own dedications as well.

So, mine is balance, for a few reasons:

1) I hurt my shoulder Sunday night in a failed attempt at the Scorpion pose (and E really doesn't know how to spot), and

2) Life is feeling both really amazing and incredibly crappy right now.

For the following reasons:

1) I just signed six new students, which significantly ups our income and gives me more faith in myself as an educator and a business woman,

2) I am polishing the first 50 pages of my manuscript to give to an agent next week, and

3) Because of #1, I no longer am panicking about my career choice and have the luxury of time to really think things over. Also, because I'm no longer panicking, I'm no longer a walking ball of stress snapping at E over things like cupboards left open or happy hours scheduled without my explicit consent and a signed contract.

4) My yoga teacher worked out an arrangement where I get to practice as much as I want for free (normally it's $18 a class, homie don't play that game) and I'm feeling really good and strong and I'm able to do things now that I couldn't do a month ago.

But, some of that is balanced by this:

5) Nephew is having serious behavior problems at school. Sister switched him to a new school and thinks that will solve the problem, meanwhile I am stressing about a situation I have no control over and questioning decisions that are not mine to make.

6) Our weekends are basically non-existent until March because E has class on Saturdays, and because of this, I picked up more weekend students (see item #1).

7) I am feeling too far from home and like I'm not being there for my sister and the kids when I need to be.

8) I am really wrestling with this book and I have spent so much time with it that I can't tell the crap from the gems and I want to get another pair of eyes on it but a pair of eyes is hard to find because I need to find someone who a) knows nothing about my real life and therefore cannot fill in the blanks of my crappy writing with any sense of my autobiography, b) knows a thing or two about how to fix a MS, and c) has the time and energy to seriously look at 50 pages now and 175 in a month or so.

Gah.

So, yes. This week, balance. The kind that involves feet up a wall and not falling on a shoulder, and the kind that involves putting energy toward things in my sphere of influence, and not wasting energy on things beyond my control or things that should be beyond my control, and are not.

On Making Your Own Way:

I don't believe in any real rules for relationships. I think part of the reason they can be so hard and so good for you at the same time is because of the way they force you to get to know yourself more each day, you constantly have to ask yourself if you're okay with this, or that, or that. Things that maybe never would have occurred to you: am I okay with him answering business calls at ten pm, am I okay with our children going to Hebrew school, can I accept that I will never speak his mother tongue. And then, in the less selfish way, you have to think about whether or not your lover is having his or her needs met, and if not, can you do anything about it?

Relationships are hard because they're complicated, and they force you to look at yourself in all your failings, and recognize every single flaw. Right there, every day.

But they're so wonderful because they can also show you the person you want to be: not a more even-tempered, affectionate, higher-earning or gourmet-cooking version of yourself, but an honest view, the "maybe-I'll-always-be-stubborn-but-maybe-I-can-try-and-be-more-loyal" view. Where you see yourself and love yourself, but don't let yourself take the easy way out.

So, that was a big disclaimer to stand in for: it's nearly impossible for me to give relationship advice. I don't think anyone can tell you what you really need, or what you're really giving, besides you and your lover.

This in no way comes in the form of advice.

But I'm just going to share one of the smartest things E and I have done for our relationship: we invented our own holiday.

It started four summers ago. We worked together, and had been dating a little over two months. I woke up on September 26th to a fantastic San Francisco sunrise, checked the weather, and found it would be one of the last summer days that year. I convinced E to call in sick, and we had breakfast at the Cliffhouse overlooking Ocean Beach. We had a slow, leisurely breakfast, we ran through the waves and kissed like teenagers in the sand. We hiked down to Mile Rock Beach and sprawled across a cement slab, drank wine, and watched for dolphins. For lunch, we went to Park Chalet and had garlic fries and red ale. We read and napped in Golden Gate Park. At the end of the day, we came home and made gumbo together, sat in his living room and listened to the sounds of the freeway.

We decided to make it a regular thing, our own personal holiday. The next year, we were a little poorer (thanks, grad school x 2!), so we skipped the fancy breakfast and just sprung for the garlic fries and red ale. The next year, we were a little busier (thanks, thesis!) so instead of gumbo we had soup and salad. This year, we're a little richer, so we took the convertible and went to the Academy of Sciences.

The modifications don't matter. The important thing is, every year, we make a point to set everything else aside and run through the freezing ocean together. We put work and school on hold, let our lives rotate only around each other, for a whole day. The details change (breakfast, museums) but the important things stay the same: time off together, sunny San Francisco, the beach, garlic fries, red ale.

We both love it so much. And it's so silly, but damn, now that it's been a few years, I think it was so smart of us. Now the last days of summer always take me right back to the days when our love was young and reckless and shy, to the days he sat on my desk grinning like a fool and I looked at my feet every time I smiled. And when life swirls with jobs and deadlines and bills and family obligations and boredom and the wind just falls from your sails, sometimes that's exactly what you need.

Or, I do at least. You make your own way.

Monday: Wish I Were Here

St. Petersburg:

Ed's parents have Russian friends in town who are visiting the US for the first time. Yesterday, we had them over for a BBQ and were presented with our wedding present... our own set of Lomonsov tableware. I, true to form, burst into tears.

It's the closest I've ever been to St. Petersburg, the beautiful city where my love was born. I still can't believe that somehow, we were born half a world away, and yet ended up in each other's arms. Something about the impossible odds of something like that happening make me trust it even more.

So yes. St. Petersburg, I'll see you some day. Until then, pieces of you will lay on our table, we'll bring you out for special guests, holidays, Shabbat.

Nasdarovya.

Wednesday Writing: Dan Savage

On Saturday, the lovely ladies behind the San Francisco branch of A Practical Wedding (the first blog I ever read religiously) will be discussing this book:

which I highly recommend to anyone, regardless of where you stand on the gay marriage debate. The writing is hilarious, insightful, and, at times, heartbreaking, everything I hope a good book will be. I almost peed my pants when I got to the diaper rash scene!

Have you read it? What did you think?

Well, Hello.

I'm back. After a brief hiatus.

I always get flaky in the summer. The sunshine makes me stoopid.

But, I'm back, though I have nothing important to say... just exceedingly happy at the moment. Spent the weekend in Ashland at the Shakespeare festival, and I'm all fired up to write. The drive was beautiful, I spent half of it with my feet kicked out the passenger side window, the other half tapping my palms on the steering wheel, singing along with Boston and my lover. Bliss.

Met my parents and brother and Meliss there. Spent entirely too much time eating and wine tasting. My vote for Edenvale: two thumbs up. Drove back home yesterday, stopped in Woodland for brunch with my two oldest girlfriends. Came home and did glamorous things like unpack and clean out the kitty box.

And then I ordered these two lovelies:

And that about sums it up. Catch you on the flip side.

Bringin' Sexy Back

Well, I'm back.

The boxes are unpacked, the walls are painted, the mountain of essays graded and grades submitted, my degree is somewhere in the registrar's office, where I'm told it will be for no less than four months before it gets to me.

I was like, "Are they hand-weaving the paper fibers?" Jeez.

My fiction class started two weeks ago, and it's awesome.

Awesome in that okay-I-guess-I'm-going-to-sink-or-swim kind of way.

Which is good, really. My teaching has been very comfortable for the last year or so, this class is already a huge challenge, and I can tell my toes have gotten lazy. But now I'm back on them.

I haven't written anything since my thesis, which was not the plan. This summer, I imagined having at least an hour a day to write. But I've gotten strangely into working out (wtf?) and am gravitating toward weights in the mornings, rather than my computer. I doubt it will last long though : )

It feels like the routine should be starting to settle in now, I love that feeling. Where things haven't necessarily been crazy for a few weeks, but they have definitely been scattered and unpredictable, and you feel ready to sink back into the familiar rhythm of things... but at the same time, you have the chance to define that new rhythm from scratch. Oh, transitions, how I love thee so!

Cooking will become more important. Writing and teaching are always hot on the stove. We've been 90% more social lately than we were when I was living out of the car half the time. I see a spin class in my future. And a Russian class. And, if I can find it, this: