So the rollercoaster is chugging uphill again. From the pit of despair to the halls of Valhalla, we go up and down, round and round. I wish that it could just stay on the way up for a while now, like maybe a year or two. That would be great.

The qualms I had about Christmas Day in my last post were unnecessary. Of course someone rescued me. In fact, he rescued me yesterday (Christmas Eve Eve), in the most spectacular fashion. I can’t really expound upon the details here, but let’s just say that I feel really cared for, and maybe even a little bit pretty. And he’ll likely rescue me again tomorrow, and we might go to a potluck for strays, which I adore. To me, those are the best kinds of gatherings.

Blood family is sometimes so hard. The family you choose for Christmas is often easier and far less stressful. I’m completely sincere when I say that visits to blood family are better left to mundane periods between the holidays. It’s much like doing household chores on a weekend. Why would you spoil special days that way? Clean your fucking toilet during the week, as you’ve ruined the day with work already.

I’m back at my favorite haunt, enjoying a pint and a slice of “6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon” (ham and pineapple pizza). The fucking incredible experiences I had yesterday finally snapped me out of my unpacking funk, and I moved a shit ton of heavy furniture all over the place today, and I have places to put stuff, so I’m going to start putting stuff there. I was finally able to wrench the legs back onto my most prized piece of furniture, a teak mid-century dining table, and hung my first piece of art. Appropriately, it is a piece I made myself.

So I’m spending Christmas Eve in a bar. Alone. Eating pizza. Drinking beer my friend S____ would not approve of ‘cause it’s crafty, and I’m on cloud 9. I’m not lonely. I feel fine. I’m good. I’m great. I’m excellent. How are you, Ghost?

Let’s hope the stupid rollercoaster maybe takes it easy for a bit. Maybe my highs and lows could be a little more reasonable. Maybe it’s things like a broken toaster instead of a stolen car. Maybe it’s a tiny victory at work instead of feeling so lost. Maybe it’s a kiss and being held tightly instead of always feeling isolated. Maybe it’s small steps toward new friendships instead of pining for the old ones.

In any case, things are good for the moment. Gonna ride this pink wave just like I rode the black one.

The immortal words of Amanda Palmer’s song “The Ride” inspired the title for this post:

Everyone’s too scared to open their eyes up, but everyone’s too scared to close them.

Everyone’s frightened they don’t know what’s coming, but everyone’s frightened of knowing.

Everyone’s reading the rules of engagement, and everyone’s starting to doubt them

Everyone’s reaching to put on a seatbelt, but this kind of ride comes without them.

I want you to think of me sitting and singing beside you

I wish we could meet all the people behind us in line

The climb to the crest is less frightening with someone to clutch you

But isn’t it nice when we’re all afraid at the same time

And it’s just a ride

It’s just a ride

And you’ve got the choice to get off anytime that you like

It’s just a ride

It’s just a ride

The alternative is nothingness, we might as well give it a try.