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Holidays and such
*Happy gurgle*
I'm very, very fond of being home. No doubt it helps that "home" currently includes lights, a tree and friendly gingerbread smells, and that yesterday it was full of friends. And that I have yet to see a problem set jump out of any closets or attack from under the bed late at night. Still, there are things about home that I think I would enjoy even without the holidays. This is probably not the place to begin explusing my theories about pattern recognition and repitition in anthropology... but that's never stopped me before. I suppose what I mean (more or less) is that many of my often repeated experiences feel safe and comforting at a very fundamental level. Silly things like the way the living room carpet feels under bare feet (the red one that my mother claims has needed to be replaced for the last ten years), or watching the fog come over the hills from my favorite reading spot behind the curtains... Most excellent. Oojah-cum-spiff, even.
It was a bit surreal to have Christmas come so quickly. I got off the plane at 11:00 California time and the gingerbread house party was at 2:00 that afternoon. We ended up with a much smaller crowd this year than usual, though 'twas most enjoyable in any event. I think my favorite house was Kate's—the structural stability became more and more questionable as larger portions of the house mysteriously disappeared. In the end it managed to topple in a very earthquake-esque fashion, which I felt was quite appropriate given the location.
I noticed again this year how, oddly, it's rather difficult to describe what has happened in a semester. One might think that, which such a wealth of material to draw from, it would be significantly easier than recounting things on a more regular basis. But no. Lies. All lies. (No doubt spread by the damned liberal/socialist/communist media.) When I ask for news since someone has last regaled me with tales from afar, it's nearly an impossible question to answer. Judging from the responses, it is a truth universally acknowledged that "not much" happens in a six-month period of time.