Super Bowel Sunday Approacheth

Hey there!

This isn't going to be a blog entry as much as it will be a mish-mash of things I'd just like to document, now that I've got an evening just to chill. I can't believe I've only made 2 other entries this month, but hey, nowhere did I mention that my goal was to blog more often right?? Funny how I feel disappointment over it though. Oh well.

Speaking of funny, I want to mention before I forget that Ted and I were invited to a Super "Bowel" party this weekend. hee A friend of mine with notoriously bad spelling has opened his heart and home to all his friends, and I'm hoping to God it's a football party and not some kinda "skat" party. (if you don't know what skat is... I suggest you not look it up. And assume that I fear a freestyle jazz-singing fete.) Teasing of course; it is most certainly a football party as he asked everyone to wear (spelled "ware") the proper attire. Specifically, shoulder pads and jock straps and not much else. hee. You'd have to know him. He's a sweetie with a constant smile on his face and an easy laugh. So viva le Super Bowel!

In other news... "heavens to mergatroid" do I love my iPod!!! The new 30gig one I got for my birthday. It truly is the most genius musical medium invention ever imagined. I'm still loading music on it and I'm up to almost 1700 songs. It holds 7500. There's nothing quite like it in the world for a music lover. And Ted is loving my nano even though it's a hand-me-down. God bless you Apple dude, whatever the hell your name is. you deserve to be rich.

Ahh, as I sit here with the dogs missing Ted (who's away in New Orleans - yep Louisiana - for a Sales Conference til Friday.) I'm wondering what I'd ever do without him. I truly do feel incomplete without him as hokey as that might sound. I'm just a hapless boob without him in a lot of ways. When he's not around I just kind of putter around in my underwear, wondering if I should make the bed at 9pm at night. I know, that's awful, but I never - ok rarely - make the bed. Ted claims I just don't do it right. And I must confess to sympathizing with those slob-type guys who don't quite get the point of making the bed when you're only going to mess it up again each night. Yeah, yeah, not when company's coming n' all that, but sheesh. Luckily I have Ted to make sure I'm getting into a fresh, tightly tucked bed each night. I miss him when he's not here, and I don't sleep as well... that's for sure.

Last night I had one of those "is it a dream" dreams in which some lady called and left 87 messages on our answering machine (and kept waking me up -in the dream- but not actually). She was distraught and looking to contact her daughter whom she believed to be away vacationing with her boyfriend in Jamaica. Her daughter had not returned home yet and she was understandably upset to have not heard from her. Finally I got up to answer her 88th call to break the news to her that she was calling the wrong number and waking me up with each call. Audibly disappointed, she promised me that she wouldn't call again, and we said good-bye. It was then that I realize I was in a house that wasn't my own, and all the windows were exposed and there was a huge outdoor concert going on across a field behind the house with crowds mulling about and people crossing the lawn and seeing me through the windows. I'm never one to just let people see in, so I went about the task of drawing all the curtains and shades in the house (as if it were mine and I knew exactly where every window was). Then the phone rings again, and it's the boyfriend of the missing daughter, calling to ask if I had heard from the mother and to tell her they were both fine if I heard from her again. Bizarro! But it gets more weird from there... because when I tell him that he just missed her for the 88th time... he tells me that I sound really good to him and initiates phone sex. Yee haw. But of course, as I always do when the dream's getting sexual... I wake up! To the sound of the damned alarm on our stereo that's set for 5:30am. The alarm that I have no idea how to unset, because it's so damned complicated and Ted always takes care of it. So until he returns I will be waking up at 5:30am to shut it off and wait for my cell phone to give me my proper wake-up call at a more godly hour. At least I know how to set and unset it. At any rate, I'm sure I'll have less unsettling dreams once Ted is home safe and sound. Until then, I wonder if the boyfriend will call back tonight! -har-

Blah... and now the topic that I was purposefully leaving to the end so as not to create yet another entry that's somber and possibly uncomfortable for others to read. So consider yourself forewarned that if you don't really care to partake in the ongoing saga that is my life-altering reveal to my mother that her beloved son is a homosexual, then you should probably stop reading now.

Still with me? Of course you are. ...thank you.

Yeah, so when last I spoke of this I was going to mail the infamous letter, that night. Well, I mailed it the next morning, which was a Friday. And my mom had it by Monday. God Bless Canada Post. But I'm skipping ahead. In preparation for Hurricane Shirley blowing in off the coast of denial, I did what any good brother would do, and called both my sisters to warn them of the potential for hysterical behaviour. For my sister Cheryl, this was alright, because she'd received a previous warning before Christmas that this was an inevitability and she's known since 94 that I'm gay. Darlene however, was getting it two-fold, since I was essentially "coming out" (God I hate that term.) to her AND preparing her for mom to go sub-atomic. Luckily, Darlene took it like a champ and didn't pass any judgement even though I'm sure she had a bit of conflict to deal with, given that of the 3 of us, she's been the only child to pursue a path similar to my mom's faith. She was wonderful about it to be honest.

Thus far it's been great for my relationship with my sisters I have to say. I can't recall a time when we've spent so much time talking on the phone and just getting reacquainted.

My mom on the other hand, although showing remarkable restraint has been predictably bitter, indignant and self-righteous, like I've "done this" to her. And I won't go into details of what she said, because although not intentionally hurtful, she can't help but be inappropriate and infuriating. And I don't really want to look back on this and remember what she said. Yeah, I've spoken to her once (this past Sunday) because she called to assure me that despite the fact that I've been listening to the devil's lies, she will always love me and that I should never believe otherwise. I guess that's encouraging in itself. I sincerely hope she surprises me, but I'm not holding my breath. She shouldn't have called me at all yet because she's neither ready to talk to me, nor listen when I speak. Thus I kept the conversation short and told her we should wait a little longer.

If nothing else comes from this, I take great comfort and liberty in being free of all the deception and in giving this conflict to her, I no longer feel like the one in the wrong for avoiding her and shutting her out. As much as I hesitate to use sports analogies, the ball is in her court, and if she chooses to keep me at a distance, I'm honestly quite OK with that. The distance between us is no longer my fault and that's good. I've sworn to myself that I will not lash out at my mom in anger over anything she might say (although I won't tolerate any verbal abuse or disrespect.) and I will be as compassionate of her feelings and respectful of her faith as I can possibly be. So far; so good. It feels great, and a big, heavy burden has been lifted from me. I'll keep you posted.

OK... longest blog entry ever... coming to a close. Whiny Basset Hound requiring pee-break and a belly-rub... in that order.

Song of the day... a choral group I heard on Classical 96 last week and ran out to buy the CD that night from Sam the Record Man downtown: "Libera" (a boys choir) and the title of their STUPENDOUSLY soul-fortifying CD is "Angel Voices". An apt title; believe me. And no, I'm not generally a choir lovin' type of guy. It's just beautiful music (entire CD). The song I heard (Going Home) is morbid yet comforting, and the album as a whole is very uplifting. I'll post the "Going Home" lyrics at a later date. But for now, I'll share the lyrics from my favourite track: "I Am the Day".

I am the day... soon to be born
I am the light before the morning
I am the night... that will be dawn
I am the end and the beginning

I am the alpha and omega
The night and day... the first and last

Illuminosa, immortalis
Sancta gloriosa
In aeterna

I am the life... soon to begin
I am the new hope in the morning
I am the darkness... soon to be light
I am the rising and the falling.

Bombs Away

It would seem as of late, I'm all about imposing deadlines on myself, so for anyone wondering what my progress is on the "Necessities for January" front, a letter has been written, rewritten and then edited one more time. If I can bring myself to unclench my fingers long enough to let it fall in the mail box, the deed will be done tonight. The self-imposed deadline comes in the form of documenting that I'm going to do it, therefore compelling me to make good on my written intention. Or at least that's the plan. Blah.

I'd like to post the letter in my blog, but somehow it's just wrong to leave something quite so ...raw... to me, dangling on the internet. Especially since someone might stumble upon it if they were to Google "mom", "Old Navy" and "Christmas" per say. meh... it could happen. At any rate I've made no forward motion on the other front, being the career-enriching, pursue-something-I'd-actually-enjoy front. But ...one life-altering goal at a time I suppose.

Speaking of life-alteration... I highly recommend that you buy, borrow, rent or steal the movie "An Inconvenient Truth". Yes, it's a documentary but it's perhaps the most poignant movie we as a human race actually need to spread the word about. I thought that I was an environmentally aware/conscious person, but this movie is beyond just an "eye-opener". Our existence as a species depends upon embracing the ideals of environmentalism. It's heart-wrenching to see and hear what we've done and continue to do to our world. Devastatingly so. That being said; it's important to watch this movie in it's entirety to be able to walk away with a sense of optimism and hope. I've derived a lot of hope from watching this movie and I think it's more important than ever to be aware of our place and our role in the lifetime we're given. Each of us can make a difference with an individual contribution to the greater cause. I truly believe that. ...But before I wax too philosophical, I'll just leave it at that. And please note: I was kidding about stealing the movie, although I do think it's important enough for everyone to see almost to the point of theft. I'll let you steal my copy - how 'bout that?

No lyrics today. A song and a video instead. "I Need to Wake Up" Melissa Etheridge.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XthWJnOHpVE
http://www.climatecrisis.net/

Necessities for January

First post of 2007 and I swear it won't be about flatulence. Although the mere "promise" to not make it about flatulence, has suddenly made it about flatulence, but I will move on from here.

Yeah...

So there are two things I want to get accomplished before the end of January. Call them resolutions if you please, but I'm starting to think of them as necessity rather than any kind of standard resolution and the fact that it's January and a new year doesn't have as much bearing on my need to get this done as the fact that it's my birthday in 2 days and I feel like I need to get my shit together. At any rate these 2 things are: 1. I will tell my mother I am gay. and 2. I will get a voice demo together for audition purposes and the aforementioned freelance work I hope to drum up this year.

Ask me which one I'm looking forward to more?

Yes it has become a necessity for me to tell my mother I'm gay. I've been consumed with the whole sordid idea for about 2 to 3 years now and I've spent way more time than that distancing myself from my family because of it. I'd say about 13 years or so to be honest.

You see, when I was young (11) and realized that I was gay, one of the first people I told was my mother. Puzzling, no? ...Well at that time, she instructed me that it was a phase that almost everyone goes through, but essentially if I prayed about it, it would go away with God's help. Luckily there were no "internment re-programming camps" at the time (or at least none she knew of or could afford) or I most-assuredly would have ended up at one. And luckily also, my mom was about as comfortable talking about sex as she is talking about astrophysics, so it didn't come up a lot much after that. But throughout my life she has made it abundantly clear that both she and God, hate homosexuals. (Yes, I know God doesn't truly.) Thus, from that time forward I slowly came to the conclusion that I couldn't talk to her about much, and by about the age of 16 I stopped talking to her about anything of any substance altogether.

My mom has spent all of these years burying her head in the sand and convincing herself that I'm not gay. To my crimes; you can add the detail that I've only ever given her an abridged version of what she wanted to hear, without actually "saying" I'm not gay. Nonetheless, the original plan I had when I was younger: "to just keep it to myself until she dies"... has begun to eat away at me. Namely because I've found I really do desire a "real" relationship with my only living parent, and I'm an honest person. There's no honesty to my relationship with my mom, so there's really no relationship. And she wants to have one but right now I'm the villain. The distant son who never calls, never writes and never visits. That's not to say "she thinks I'm the villain" but I do. For years, I've kept it to myself because I've always felt she'd be unable to cope with it, or worse: that I'd have to cope with her knowing. But it's time to just get everything out in the open, and if I have to walk away from her because of it, then so be it. It won't be because I don't love her.

This March 21st will mark 11 years that Ted and I have been together. Ironically and tragically, my mother really likes Ted. She buys him Christmas presents every year and she's aware that we've moved together "TWICE" from city to city. She's also aware that our first 2 apartments were one bedroom units. That kind of denial takes a lot of fuel. Fuel like asking me every now and again if I have a girl friend I'm not telling her about. Fuel like wondering aloud to me where everyone sleeps when Ted's sister and her kids come to visit. It's exhausting. And furthermore it's just really sad. I'm an adult, and it's time for me to either embrace her or walk away completely.

I know it sounds dire and probably more dramatic than what it seems it could possibly be, but you have to understand that my mom ranks homosexuality right up there with the greatest evils in the world. She makes no bones about making her opinions known either. 2 of several examples: when I was still living at home, she and her equally fanatical friend Pauline, would stage protests at any conference or "gay" related gathering or event in Kingston, (that, I can live with. She's entitled to her opinion) often subjecting themselves to a lot of ridicule, and nasty verbal retaliation, being spat on and the like... and most-notably, I remember overhearing her in the living room one day praying and crying (as she often did) and I wandered into the room to see her with hands planted firmly on the TV with a gay pride parade going on, crying out to God to strike them all down with AIDS. ...Yeah... nice. I confronted her immediately on it, (without telling her once again that her own son was gay) but there was no reasoning with her. Now in her defence, I don't think she'd still be praying like that now, and she's not a spiteful person. But she's given me ample reason to not want to tell her ever, so this decision of mine is a big deal.
Big enough for me to realize that I can't go on with things the way they are; with her being heart-broken that I essentially want little or nothing to do with her and she doesn't know why or at least "pretends" not to.

She was overjoyed that I went home to visit the family the Sunday before Christmas and we've had a couple of lengthy telephone conversations since then in which she's proclaimed that we're all (my sisters, myself and she) going to be a family again, a "close" family. That sounds good to me. It really does. But it can't happen without honesty and openness. I don't expect her to turn her back on a lifetime of beliefs and "accept" the fact that I'm gay. (I think that's beyond her abilities.) But I'm getting to the point where I can't shield her from it anymore and I don't think I should have to. Even if it's the most selfish thing I ever do.

And I realize that I'll have to endure a lot of crying and indignation and even some wrath, but I've spent too many years coming to terms with myself because of my family's spiritual expectations. I don't deserve the self-induced exile, and I do deserve to have my family love me for who I am.

Blah... sometimes it feels good to put your thoughts to words rather than listen to them from the confines of your own head. That's where I'm at on this topic, and now I'll let it rest for a while.
I know this has been a heavy entry, but I'm prone to them at times. Forgive me. -wink-

Don't Give Up (You Are Loved) - by Josh Groban

Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
When you're heart's heavy
I will lift it for you

Don't give up
Because you want to be heard
If silence keeps you
I will break it for you

Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you
Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up

Because you are loved

Don't give up
It's just the hurt that you hide
When you lost inside
I will be there to find you

Don't give up
Because you want to burn bright
If darkness blinds you
I will shine to guide you

Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you
Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up

Because you are loved
You are loved

Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
Don't give up
Every one is to be heard
You are loved

Video Game Nerdiness

Tonight I blog because Ted and Tammy are engaged in a rousing game of "Crash Twinsanity" a PS2 game (sequel to Crash Bandicoot, parts 1 through 6 (or 7) by now). I'm not one who gets into the action-adventure games we have. That's more Ted's arena, whereas I'm more of a driver, shooter, blow-em-up kind of gamer. Ted plays all these elaborate games that take so much concentration, focus and skill, I feel like I'm in Grade 3 just watching him work his genius and his patience in his favour. He'd laugh at me saying that. hee But honestly I suck at anything too-too complicated. I like Grand Theft Auto, and Twisted Metal, and Destroy All Humans and Burnout 3/Revenge. Violent stuff no doubt, but I find it therapeutic at times to drive around blowing things up in a video game after getting stuck in traffic. Admittedly, I haven't been stuck in traffic in awhile. So I don't know what my excuse is for liking the brainless violence games. Hmmmph. Anyhow, the point I'm getting at is that I'm glad he's got a friend who likes playing the games he enjoys. (Many of our friends don't play video games of any kind.)

Anyhoo, after splaying my nerdiness onto the internet (hee) I'll quickly close (because we're going to watch a movie this evening.) I hope to write again tomorrow, but if not: Happy New Year!

"New Year's Day" by Carolyn Arends

I buy a lot of diaries
Fill them full of good intentions
Each and every New Year's Eve
I make myself a list
All the things I'm gonna change
Until January 2nd
So this time I'm making one promise

Chorus:
This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day
This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day

I believe it's possible
I believe in new beginnings
'Cause I believe in Christmas Day
And Easter morning too
And I'm convinced it's doable
'Cause I believe in second chances
Just the way that I believe in you

This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day
This could start a revolution
Every day is...
One more chance to start all over
One more chance to change and grow
One more chance to grab a hold of grace
And never let it go
Repeat chorus

Farty-Fart-Fart-Fart

I know I've mentioned briefly before that I have an odd fascination with fart and/or poop humour. Bodily functions in general tend to make me giggle with juvenile glee. But did you know that this simple immature fixation will win-over just about any child? I know this because I have 3 nieces and a nephew of my own, and 2 nieces and 2 nephews on Ted's side... and kids are generally stand-offish with me (which suits me just fine, 'cause to be truthful, I'm not terribly fond of children - especially babies - mind you fart humour has no effect whatsoever on babies, so maybe that's why I want nothing to do with them.) until you start talkin' "poopie" and "farts". Kids love that crap. Literally - HAR!
So why the flatulence talk? Well, it was kind of the b-side theme of Christmas weekend. First-off, there's Porthos: The most fartiest-farter-hound in the world. He wanders around passing gas (loudly I might add) on a good day, but on a bad day... oh... I dunno... let's say when people are stuffing him with doggie treats he's never had before or morsels of turkey when Ted and I aren't looking (I know it was goin' on.) he starts releasing the most noxious gas ever to escape a dog's posterior. I'm tellin' ya - baby-dog was clearin' rooms this weekend.
Then... there's Nathan, Ted's youngest nephew (4yrs old); who's been taught through various sources (myself included) that farts are funny, but... farts are "funnier" when shared. (much to his mother's chagrin) He made me laugh big time when he let an audible "ripper" go while Ted was holding him and then proceeded to insist that uncle Ted smell his butt. Ted refused of course, but this only angered Nathan. "I've cooked up a good one damn you, now you can bloody well enjoy the bouquet"! (ok, so that's Stewie Griffin, not Nathan. But you get the picture.)
Then last, but not least (and unintentionally I swear) there was my gassing of Crissy, Rachel and Sarah in the car before we drove home. I vow upon my father's grave that I honestly thought there was enough wind outside to carry the fumes far, far away before I got in the car. But sadly once I opened the door it acted as a scoop for foul odours. All at once Chrissy's wee Kia was overwhelmed and the 3 girls inside... ...trapped without mercy. Mwwahahaha wheeeeee....
Good times.
Hey, I swore it was unintentional. That's not to say I can't be giddy with an accidental dutch oven.

I'm such a child.

Let's pray this isn't my final blog entry for the year, shall we?

On a more "tasteful" note, last night Ted and I were sitting, watching TV with Cole between us and Porthos dead-to-the-world by himself on the love seat, when suddenly Porthos starts wagging his tail with great thumping enthusiasm... in his sleep. I love the thought of dogs having happy dreams. Squirrels that can't run away, a bottomless bowl of leftover cereal milk, and a bevy of foreign doggie butts to sniff without being told to stop... whatever it is... sweet dreams my happy puppies.

Given how this post has been largely a "fluff" piece if you'll pardon the pun, my song of the day will be a cheesy country song from my youth in the 80's (with a doggie theme) that had a video that made me cry. Now that I look at the lyrics I hesitate to follow-through, but hey - not all of the songs I mention are in the "rush out and buy it" category. Certainly not this one.

"Feed Jake" by Pirates of the Mississippi.

I'm standing at the crossroads in life...
And I don't know which way to go...
You know you've got my heart, babe...
But my music's got my soul...
Let me play it one more time...
I'll tell the truth and make it rhyme...
And hope they understand me...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

Now Broadway's like a sewer...
Bums and hookers everywhere...
Wino passed out on the sidewalk...
Doesn't anybody care?
Some say he's worthless, just let him be...
I for one would have to disagree...
And so would their mommas...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
And if I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

Now, if you get an ear pierced...
Some will call you gay...
But if you drive a pickup...
They say, no, you must be straight...
What we are and what we ain't...
What we can and what we can't... ***notably sung to rhyme with "ain't" hee
Doesn't really matter...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
And if I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

****This was a huge hit. WTF huh??

Of Hockey, Wrapping Paper and Piggery

Hidilly Ho Neighbours,

I'm back at frickin' work already. Such is the life of a radio slob unless of course the slob works for a really big radio station that closes down between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Anyhow, here I sit and I'd just about rather be anywhere. Namely at home in bed, recovering from a very busy weekend.

The plan was to have had time at some point over the weekend to sit down and write a nice, festive blog entry with all the holiday sentiment I could muster, but that obviously never happened like every other relaxing thing I wanted to do this weekend. No, no, I'm not bitter even though my words might suggest a tinge of disgruntled-ness. Santa was good to me and the whole nine yards. I just sometimes wish I could sit down with the tree lit and listen to some holiday music and just "be". Over the past 5-7 years Christmas has become such a circus that I find it just runs me down. And as a side-note, boy was I miffed to be running around on Christmas Eve (day) to look for wrapping paper that I asked Ted to pick up twice over the past week. Not even freaking Wal-Mart had wrapping paper!! We tried, Wal-Mart, 2 Zellers, Canadian Tire, The Bay, Costco, 2 Dominions, Hallmark, a (nondescript) dollar store, PharmaPlus and 2 Shoppers Drugmart's before finding any wrapping paper. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't wrapping paper one of those wonderful boxing day sale items you're supposed to be able to stock up on for next year's Christmas fiasco? I know I've picked some up post-Christmas before. Needless to say, a good portion of Ted's family almost had their gifts wrapped in tin foil and toilet paper, because of this unannounced paper embargo.

Additionally, of all places nobody would expect to find me on a Saturday night, would be the Air Canada Centre, watching a Leafs game, but there I was, and I had a great time too. Not that that could turn me into a bonafide hockey fan. I spent a great deal of time bitching (jokingly) that the biggest of reasons why the "Leafs" suck is because their name is grammatically incorrect. Everyone knows it "should" be the Toronto Maple "Leaves", which is a total wussy name, but regardless - that is what it should be. Or perhaps the "Toronto Maple Mooses" if they'd like to switch to some equally ridiculously incorrect Canadiana. Meh, whatever huh? They lost. Boo hoo.
After the hockey game we came home and I decorated the tree finally (it's been up and lighted for weeks, just not decorated) while Ted and Tammy baked up a storm. A very festive evening overall. I'll remember it fondly forever. And the weekend as a whole was rife with festive piggery which I both relish and regret simultaneously. It's a bad scene for waistlines.

Now tonight we host dinner for Ted's dad and his wife before our lives can return to normal. Ted's sister, her two daughters and dog, left today after a 4-day visit. What am I looking forward to the most once the holidays are over???? Sex my friends. Sex, glorious sex. It is one thing that Santa cannot bring when your home is so blatantly over-populated with guests. At this point, even Santa would look good to me.

I will refrain from wishing everyone a Happy New Year just yet, for the added incentive to write more blog entries before 2006 comes to a close.

Song of the day... one of my favourites this year: "Like it or Not" by Madonna.

You can call me a sinner
You can call me a saint
Celebrate me for who I am
Dislike me for what I ain't
Put me up on a pedestal
Or drag me down in the dirt
Sticks and stones will break my bones
But your words will never hurt

I'll be the garden
You be the snake
All of my fruit is yours to take
Better the devil that you know
Your love for me will grow
Because

This is who I am
You can
Like it or not
You can
Love me or leave me
Cus I'm never gonna stop
No no

Cleopatra had her way
Matahari too
Whether they were good or bad
Is strictly up to you
Life is a paradox
and it doesn't make much sense
Can't have the "femme" without the "fatale".
Please don't take offense

Don't let the fruit rot
under the vine
Fill up your cup
and let's drink the wine
Better the devil that you know
Your love for me will grow
Because

Cyber Christmas Karma Greetings

Just sending out a cosmic internet message to all the people I love whom I've neglected to send a Christmas card to this year. Rest assured that absolutely no one got a Christmas card from me this year, not that I suspect that there are many whose holiday cheer hinges upon whether or not they hear from me. But trust me, there's a long list of people who enter my thoughts at this time of year above all others, and I wish I could spend a little time with all of them. If you're reading this you're very likely one of those people.

So, Merry Christmas to everyone who knows me or has ever known me, may you rediscover even just a smidgen of the magical anticipation that made the holidays so special when you were young. It's hard to come by in this day and age when you secretly feel a little ashamed that there's a secret part of you that just wants it to be over. (or maybe that's just me - hopefully it is.)

Welcome to Our World - Michael W. Smith

Tears are falling,
hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised,
we've been waiting
Welcome Holy Child
Welcome Holy Child

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long awaited Holy Stranger
Make yourself at home
Please make yourself at home

Bring your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
World now breaking Heaven's silence
Welcome To Our World
Welcome To Our World

Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around you
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome To Our World