so. christmas.

my home this christmas was very full.
picture this:
the living room--is where your youngest sister lives. she has just had surgery on both feet. (bunions, viscious little critters). her "bed" is the sofa plus a cot, wedged together and piled high with pillows and blankets. the entire coffee table is her nightstand.
the bedrooms--are for luggage. in each room, the bags and suitcases surround the bed, leaving no floor for walking. when preparing to actually sleep on said bed(s), one must stand at the door, back up a few steps, and then, leap. (do not attempt this in the dark.)

so, you're home for christmas. Mike, a friend from high school, comes to visit. you invite him in, only to realize (how did you miss it?) that there is literally no place for him to sit. you can sit on the ceramic tile that is the living room floor, on the wooden benches that surround the kitchen table, on the brick fireplace, or join the invalid sister on her super-couch.
we join her on the super-couch. my brother joins us , and in the end it's me, my 25-year-old friend, my 17-year-old sister, and my 21-year-old brother all on this one bed while my other sister observes from the only arm chair left in the room. we're all together, one large jumble of over-large bodies, and i wonder aloud, "Are we close because we had to be this close, or are we this close because we are close?"
i'm full of wisdom like this.
"Both," says the arm-chair sister.
Poor Mike.
we watch the ever-spastic Disney classic, Aladdin, and all is well.
peace on earth. good will towards men.
merry christmas.

one more anecdote

the best question i've been asked all year, i think, occurred after i told my senior english class that there would be an essay question on their first test. after school, tomas sanchez came up to me and asked, very sincerely, "Miss, for years, teachers have been telling me to write essays. But, Miss. Really, what is an essay?"
i temporarily cancelled essay questions.

the rising generation

in houston, it is unseasonably warm. it's always been rather warm here, but after living in utah for 5 years and then moving back, the difference is very clear. i clearly remember wearing my letter jacket to high school between november and february, at least. i very clearly remember my younger sister being chastized for wearing open-toed shoes in december, and i remember being able to see my breath as a child.
there has been only one week, this year, when i was able to see my breath.
it's a little more than disturbing. we are living proof of global warming.
and i live at Lee High School, where we are no better than a den of tree killers, armed with our arsenal of worksheets and handouts and fill-in-the-blank notes, notebooks, and chart paper. we're taking out America, one forest at a time.
nice.
what was even more chilling was a conversation with my sophomore, pre-ap class. as cassandra looked out the window, she complained, "It is so hot this year"
I replied, without looking up, "It's global warming."
"What's global warming, Miss?"
I nearly choked.
"What's global warming?"
They had somehow never heard of CFC's or that hair-spray and car exhaust damage the ozone layer, and they had never heard of the greenhouse effect. The entire lesson sequence paused as I began to gesticulate (wildy, of course) and preached the good word(s): Ozone, Greenhouse, Weather, Recycle.
"Are we going to die, Miss?," Jazmine wanted to know.
"You know, we just might."
the next day cassandra put a crumpled-up note in my recycle box instead of the wastebasket. "Oh whoops," she said as she straightened out the wrinkles, "Recycle."
it may very well be the only thing she's learned from me all year.

suckered by spam

so, it's that moment.
you're going to check your email.
you pull up the screen and lo and behold, the little blue number is at "2,"
and you think, "hallelujah, mail."
there's the click.
and there, is the spam, playing decoy in your inbox.

my heart can't take this any longer.