my gift is my song.

I had my phone-therapy session last night -- my therapist is in Argentina, and we spent 5 minutes talking about the political situation there and what's going on! Their president resigned yesterday, and there's been a "state of siege" declared, with protests and marches and arrests, and some rioting and looting occuring. I told her she should write about her experience there and just send out the same essay to all her patients and friends, since I'm sure folks have been asking about it.

The session was fine, lasted about 20 minutes, and I just talked about family stuff of course, and she asked about the party and all my holiday plans and my health (the general way she asks about physical issues related to hormones and/or anxiety). Sometimes talking to her is weird, because I might not be feeling that happy or settled, but she responds to positively to what I'm saying -- "it sounds like you're doing great!" or "you're doing good stuff!" And I almost get resentful, like, "no, I'm feeling anxiety and anger about ______." But in the end, I'm glad she sort of pulls back and puts things into perspective for me. She does a good job of not minimizing any difficulties I might be having, but also not letting them become my main focus. She refuses to let me wallow -- keeps me focused on accomplishments and postives. But it never comes out as hokey or new age-y or trite. It's a good balance for my life.

Last night MelRo and I's plans for eating tapas were derailed by the restaurant being closed. Damn them! But we found an alternative, and then later watched "Moulin Rouge". It wasn't as good as the first time, but still fun. I also feel satisfied in just owning the soundtrack and don't think I need to own the movie itself.

Also, we decided to open one gift each last night, and I was thrilled to discover that she found the original fag sweater I wanted to purchase! My cranberry and black ribbed turtleneck sweater (which I mentioned wearing yesterday) was actually an alternative to the grey and black one, which they didn't have in my size. But MelRo went back and found one for me! I loaned her my red one for the week, so she can wear it and think of me, and I'll probably wear the new one on xmas day. Yes, I'm a bit of a fruit. Though not today. Today, I'm looking very "manly" with my dark jeans and dark blue flannel shirt. Possibly still gay-looking, but more of a bear than a Chelsea boy.

Right now MelRo's probably picking up her car or perhaps packing her suitcases. It was hard leaving this morning and knowing she won't be there this evening when I get home. But it helps knowing I have fun things planned for the weekend. And she'll only be gone a week. And today is Friday and I don't have to be back at work until Wednesday.

I think dannyboi once mentioned missing his gf even though they live together. And I can totally relate -- even though we spend a lot of time in the same room/apartment, it's not always "quality time". And for the most part I'm not completely crushed that she won't be around this weekend, but I'm still probably not going to be listening to the Carpenters' "Merry Christmas Darling" -- just to be on the safe side. I should also probably avoid the songs "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" or "Please Come Home For Christmas". Unless it's the Jon Bon Jovi version -- that one has little emotional punch for me. I also don't have to worry about "Blue Christmas" -- I mostly just find that song annoying. Though the Sheryl Crow version is interesting, if I recall.

I'll stop being a sap now.

shortest day of the year

At least in terms of sunshine. It wasn't the shortest day as far as workdays go. But not too bad either -- we filed the brief today, and it was even done at a leisurely pace. No sprinting at 5:55 p.m. In fact, I've been done for an hour. And just sitting and waiting. It wouldn't be too bad if I wasn't so anxious -- I'm too antsy to surf the web. And not many folks have posted on LJ so I can't pass the time that way. Though I'm not sure I have the attention span for that.

I'm going to take a tablet and relax and go home and it will be okay that no one is in the apartment. You wouldn't think I lived by myself in a studio for a year, would you? Funny how habits form so quickly. I will also make myself go to this party because I know in the end I will have fun and be happy I went. Plus, it's early in the evening, and I can stay for a significant time period and still get to bed early.

Why am I so jittery and uncomfortable? Maybe I'll just go now -- it's only about ten minutes early.