the day is dark and cold and i want to run the clock backwards, back to the time i was curled in my dark soft lumpy bed and everything was perfect. we're lurching toward another holiday and i admit to feeling decidedly un-christmas-like (bill o'reilly and his campaign to save christmas can kiss my ass.)

we have lost the war in the middle east, our soldiers are fodder for missiles and bombs; our president still has the ability to rouse hatred and vomiting in at least half the populace (oh, for a freakish cosmic accident that will show our POTUS bursting into flame as he touches the bible during his inauguration, the first recorded human combustible); every conversation i have with a conservative brings up bile and contempt and if i am ever to exercise control over my temper i will have to shun them - or resign myself to immediate ad hominem attacks and call them vile, deceitful cramps who would rather lick the brown boot of karl rove than help their fellow man.

and where is my side of political spectrum? (crickets, crickets)

there is much to celebrate - life, family, friends, liberty and straight teeth. but there is all that stuff above. there is the new boy, who haltingly told me the story of his divorce last night while we sat in a red and green lit tiki room in river grove; below the muted giggling and chatter around us, he spread his hands and shrugged and said all he ever wanted was to be loved and isn't that what this life is about? and i could only nod and crunch another pretzel.

there is the story of the woman and the carved out baby, but there is also the mini-skirted octogenarian woman in a river grove bowling alley who walked her ball down the lane, dropped it with a thud and watched as it rolled, as if by a magnet, to a strike; then she'd turn, shuffle back to her table and flick a smile at her equally shriveled husband who just watched her roll strike after strike after strike. it could have been sad but it looked sweet to me.

there's doesn't seem to be time for reflection this time of year, although i suppose that's what it's for - to slow us down and make us see the world a little differently, as a thing worth saving, inhabited by tiny lonely people shuffling to...something.

but, in the abridged words of my roommate, why does everyone have to suck so much?