Archive for December, 2010|Monthly archive page

Daily Cupcake: “Twas the Night Before Christmas.”

In Uncategorized on December 24, 2010 at 7:32 pm

I mentioned the poem “Twas the Night Before Christmas” written by Clement Clark moore in New York City, 1822.  Check this out. 

**Note the ending of the poem.

Happy Christmas: Day Twenty-Four (The 24th, a coincidence? I think not).

In Blogging, Happiness, Love on December 24, 2010 at 7:18 pm

This year I managed to get my Christmas cards out in the mail and on time.  A huge feat for me, an incredibly busy single mom and student and everything else.  We took some lovely pictures, which I edited myself, a few clicks on Shutterly,  and I popped those suckers in the mail.

The original "Night Before Christmas" manuscript written by Clement Clark Moore in 1822.

Aside from the incredibly cute pictures of little e, the cards read, “Christmas is not a time or a season but a state of mind.  To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas,” a quote by Coolidge.  I got to thinking about what I put on those cards and why I chose it.  The Christmas season is filled with an abundance of shopping advertisements marked by this particular time of year.  On a popular Christian radio station the other day one host proclaims, “This year (much to his amusement) the stores had chosen to use the term “Christmas” as opposed to “Holiday” finding such term usage has instigated a rise in sale percentages.”  I was, myself, highly disturbed by this tactic and the hosts reaction to it.  Obviously, he was joyed to see the commercial industry’s embrace of his spiritual Christmas—shockingly I think he missed the real point, though.  That is, Christmas, the real meaning, has nothing to do with any one term or commercialism and will never correlate to gift buying, stores, and monetary profit in any way.  He went on to relate that the city of Philadelphia had chosen this year to change their sign heading on the local nativity to, “Happy Holidays” as opposed to the previous years’, “Merry Christmas,” adding, “seems like the city of brotherly love isn’t very brotherly this year” and at that juncture I changed the station.

My point, Christmas is not a time of year in which the focus should be on buying, nor is it characterized absolutely by any one term, whether that be “Christmas,” “Holiday,” “Hannukah,” “Las Posadas,” “Kwanza,” etc.  Instead, it’s like Coolidge said, “a state of mind,” where one can then cherish peace and goodwill and exude a merciful spirit.  Therefore, Christmas (or whatever term you choose) is defined by how you feel inside and how those feelings then reflect on others around you.  It is acceptance, love, and from this comes happiness.


So, little e, ini, and I wish you all a very HAPPY Christmas (or Holiday, or Hannakuh, or Las Posadas, or Kwanza, or just “day”) one that is filled with brotherly love and contentment lending to peaceful mercy, love, and goodwill.

xoxo whit.

Running Book List

In English Major, literature on December 23, 2010 at 8:38 pm

Running Book List:

A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man by James Joyce

Bless Me, Ultima by Anaya A. Rudolfo

A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston

China Men by Maxine Hong Kingston

Solar Storms by Linda Hogan

Kanthapura Raja Rao

Erasure by Percival Everett

Paradise by Toni Morrison

The Signifying Money Henry Louis Gates

Times Arrow by Martin Amis

Flaubert’s Parrot by Julian Barnes

Possession by A.S. Byatt

The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter

Nice Work by David Lodge

Atonement by Ian McEwan

The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie

The Sweet Smell of Pyschosis by Will Self

Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

Back in Action: Day Twenty-Three

In Uncategorized on December 19, 2010 at 11:22 pm

Well hello again!

I’m back in action.  I think it’s very plausible that I haven’t even signed into my blog site in a few months.  I guess this is what a whole lot of work does to you.

The little one has made it to LA for a very merry xmas there, and me?  Well, here I am enjoying the rain and a sleepy little dog who likes to keep me company.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about being a woman, a single parent, a single mother.  I think the most important part though is my reflection on being a woman.  When I was twenty I thought of my identity like a mirror staring back at me, whatever I saw, that’s what I was.  It was so important for me to reflect an image that was accepted by others, but who I was never really made sense to me.  At thirteen, I knew exactly what I wanted for myself, my life, my career–I had it all mapped out.  But somewhere along the way I lost that identity, those hopes, my dreams, and I got caught up in following the world around me.  I built a “me” out of others hopes, dreams, desires.  I’d find myself plucking portions of those around me for my own construct; however, before long there was nothing left of my original “hoped for” identity.  It wasn’t until one day I woke up, freaked out, and realized, “who am I?” I was not me.  That was hard.  It was a difficult journey back, erasing all those rented portions, giving them back to their rightful owners.  I had to essentially reintroduce myself to the world and then befriend, again, all those pieces of me that were put into hiding for so long.  It was a journey, but I feel like I made it back to the path I was on at the start, unimpeded, ready to go for it.

I am so thankful for the experiences that woke me up to reality.  Sometimes I feel the majority tugging at me, wanting me, but then I pull back from that axiom and realize I have to be just me.  I look at friends and family and see so many struggling with the same exact thing.  They don’t know it, but it’s there.  They just want to feel accepted, liked, loved, whatever it is.

I took a minority lit class and found it interesting how applicable the material was/is to me–a blonde haired, blue-eyed, caucasian.  The minority flees the majority, it never allows itself to be the construct of any one thing or multiplicity of things, it is “nothingness,” but in it’s nothingness it’s interestingly everything it wants to be to itself.  The minority is true and overwhelmingly aware of its direction.

I feel that way now.  I feel like I am in constant flight of any one construct.  I live to be just me.  I am the type of woman I want to be, the parent, the single mother.  I don’t situate myself by the image I see in the mirror, not anymore.  That is so freeing.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, be you.

love me.

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