Monday, December 22, 2008

That Really Happened

"Sorry I'm not the person I could be."

What does that even mean?

What I should have said in response : "I'm sorry you like boys."

Saturday, December 20, 2008

It's Official...

I am starting a book this week while I am on holiday. After the recent few month's "festivities" I have determined that it is high time to get rolling with it. So dear readers, Merry Christmas. I hope these stories will bring as much humor to your life as they have to mine.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Santa Baby

It's hard to believe Christmas is a mere week away. With everything else that's been going on, I haven't quite gotten into the "Christmas spirit" this year. Which I don't like one bit because I absolutely love Christmas. The other day I was watching TV and a Macys commercial came on focused on the "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" letter from 1897 that was written in response to an inquiry from eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon. When I read it, it gives me the warm feeling of peace, hope and love.

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.' Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?" Virginia O'Hanlon, 115 West Ninety-fifth street

"VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

Tuesday, December 9, 2008


Today, my heart is hurting. And there's not anything I can do about it. Someone I care about is hurting. I think that part of being a grown up and caring about people means hurting when they hurt, laughing when life is funny and dancing when the music plays. And for today, it means hurting...hurting and sending love, prayers and thoughts their way. But right now, it doesn't seem like enough.

"What the heart has once owned and had, it shall never lose." Henry Ward Beecher

Monday, December 1, 2008

Am I Being Punked?

Sometimes I feel like I'm being punked. Like maybe the Missoula version of Ashton Kutcher is around somewhere playing pranks on me and this is all just a big joke. Generally, and specifically, things have been happening that I have to ask myself the following question: "Really?" Followed by: "Is this a real thing?" (For the record, it usually is a real thing.)

Luckily, I have learned to laugh at these things. It helps that I have awesome girlfriends who will laugh with me (I tip my hat to you girls!) And while I still sometimes want to fight people, I think giggling about it is probably the better way to go. And not to worry, I'm sure I'll still get a fight or two in when needed. Because I'm from Montana—and that's just how we roll.