Killing Time Christmas-Style

Right, so, here I am, killing time, Christmas-style.

In the background, girlish screams of "That's mine! No that's mine!! She bit me! Mommy she bit me!!!"

I wish. I wish these were the screams of my alter-ego. Because that would make my life so much more funny. But they are the adorable screams of my nieces as I sit in the living room of my brother's house, awaiting the arrival of my parents. So that we can eat, open presents, and then watch basketball in the McBride House o' Fun.

I feel - a moderate amount of love bursting from my heart today. I'm a little bit sick, which is gross, but at least the fever is gone. It's just sore-throat ack-ness.

I'm looking at various friends' facebook profiles to pass the time. Friends in Chicago, friends in Ohio, and friends in Los Angeles. And my heart warms to see their words and their smiley faces or strange contributions to cyber-space.

A lot of people poo-poo (or pee-pee, if you just haven't eaten enough yet) the idea of Facebook. Or MySpace. Or public postings in general. I understand this mild revulsion. So public. Such an invasion. Who wants to be available to be looked at all of the time? But thank god for these sites, because how else would I be able to keep up with, let alone communicate with all the people I've met while living in these three cities? So this Christmas, I'm thankful for cyberspace. Because I can see my friends' faces on this day of good-tidings.

I feel lucky that I have three homes. I have three cities in which I feel completely and utterly at home. Los Angeles, my birth-place. Always beautiful even when overcast. Always smelling of palm trees and open space. The thrill of navigating the freeway system, like tracing the lines on the palm of my own hand. And the friends who are so constant and know the ins and outs of me like I know the ins and outs of the LA freeway system. Ohio - midwestern warmth. I miss my friends and mentors in Ohio so much it aches. I yearn to hop in my car and drive there, bed down in my friend Mary's house, and eat pancakes. I miss the small lake off of I-315, with its hidden creek and the benches dedicated to deceased spouses. And of course, Chicago. Its bohemian bustle. Its eclectic calm. Where my bed is. Where my work is. Where my cat is.

I was looking at the blog of my former student, co-OSU alum, and dear friend Cole Simon. He seems busy working on many an artistic project. His enthusiasm leaps off the page and I remember why I loved having him around, in class, in a play, in the greenroom, when I was in Ohio. His enthusiasm is contagious and reminds me why I love what I do. There's no real connection to the theme of this blog, except he's a friend, from Home #2. Here's a link to his enthusa-blog: http://cole-examininglifebythethroat.blogspot.com/.

Anyway, there was a lot of fear involved, moving from city to city. But I'm glad I listened to my Gypsy intuition because in the end, I learned how to find home, how to create home, and how to carry home with me. So to all my friends, Merry Christmas; it is your faces that make my home "homey". Homes.