One thing I can tell is different this year is that I'm not laboring under a huge umbrella of depression. I actually feel pretty good ~ and hopeful. That was the worst thing I have ever had to go through and I hope that I never have to go through it again. Of course, I didn't realize just how bad it was until I started to look back ~ I was actually hoping that little bug would crash all the computers and everyone would be as miserable as I was. I still refuse to say that 2 letter and 1 number combination ever again.

Yep ~ if I had to classify this year, I would call it the Year of Climbing. Climbing out of the darkness; climbing even more out of myself and just generally climbing into the better lit areas of life. I have come a long way. I've found my sense of humor again. I've found my sense of being. I've found myself.

Oh! I guess I tell you about my little Xmas escapade. We went over to my aunt's house and promptly discovered that the spirit of Mama seems to be alive and well. Something is afoot and it probably is about my mom and/or me ~ you could just tell that something unspoken was hanging in the air. That's how you know that someone is saying something about you in this family. That is why I try not to involve myself with them ~ why feed the gossip mill when they are perfectly capable of making shit up about you anyway and will?

Case in point ~ somehow the conversation turned to alcohol. Everyone generally agreed that beer is awful ~ it reminds me of rotten apples, even though I know perfectly well that an apple hasn't ever come within 20 feet of the stuff. When it came to talking about other alcoholic beverages...well, let's just say that I sounded as if I knew what I was talking about. Oh hell, who the hell am I kidding? I did know what I was talking about and it was probably enough to start the rumors that I am one step away from an intervention and/or the gutter. Most likely the gutter. Never mind the fact that I haven't had a drink in 3 years and then it was usually never more than one margarita. Never mind the fact that I've only been drunk about 3 times ~ once for the experience; once by accident (never chase a Long Island Tea with a margarita!) and once because my heart was broken and it was the only way to deal at the time. I don't particularly enjoying being drunk ~ it's like having some sort of bizarre Out of Body experience.

That notwithstanding (lecture's over), it was still odd to say the least. The petting rooster was around again this year. He lept up on the counter and landed in the deviled eggs. When I told him about it later, C.M. said that the rooster was simply protesting the senseless slaughter of his own kind. I tend to think that may be the better explanation.