08 December 2000 ~ Helena is cheesy…

I love the entire freaking universe.

For some reason, I think my attitude towards the universe at large is pissing people off. It may also be the fact that I’ve been talking at 100 words per minute all evening, but that’s the coffee speaking for me, and I decided I loved the universe before I’d had any coffee…

I went shopping today. Not that I can afford anything, but I went shopping anyway. My purchases included a wireless doorbell – one of many things my apartment did not come equipped with, and I’m sort of deaf to people throwing pinecones at my window to capture my attention – a package of nails to hang my pictures with, and a CD of Christmas songs by Mannheim Steamroller.

I love Christmas. I’ve never really loved Christmas before; it’s always just been a hassle and a reminder that commercialism sucks when you’re broke. But this year, I’ve got a puny little plastic tree in front of my window, and my dorky wooden nutcracker next to it, and grand plans for placing my little ceramic Snoopy ornaments where everyone can see them. Besides, this past year has been wonderful, for the most part, and so many people have done so many good things for me. I would like to put smiles on so many people’s faces. I don’t care about the traditional gift-giving nonsense of buying somebody a necktie just because I owe them a present; I just want to repay a lot of debts, and Christmas seems like a fine time to do so. I owe a lot of people a lot of smiles. I can’t wait to see them.

My family used to play Mannheim Steamroller every year at Christmas time. Especially when we decorated the tree. My mom had all of their Christmas CD’s. My favorites were always “I Saw Three Ships” and “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” I never quite figured out what three ships had to do with Christmas, the birth of Jesus, or anything at ALL, really, but ships were cool, so whatever. My dad would always sing along to “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella,” and my mom would always yell at him for getting the words wrong: “Joe, it’s ‘Bring a torch, it is dark in the STALL,’ not ‘it is dark in the HALL.’ Jesus wasn’t born in a HALL!” It was tradition, and it was beautiful. Sort of dorky, but most traditions are, if you think about it. For some reason, even though my connections to my family are sort of weak, my memory of being eight and hearing my dad fuck up his Christmas carols still bring me some joy.

It’s 22 degrees outside, and maybe 42 degrees inside, but I’ve been drinking coffee all evening and listening to pretty music, so I feel warm.

The “specials” blackboard at Java Joe’s proudly bears my handwritten description of the holiday drink special: a white chocolate hazelnut mocha latté. David made me one for Christmas one year, and it tasted like snowflakes and all sorts of lovely wintery things. He didn’t tell me what it was, so I spent four months trying to figure out the recipe – four years after I drank it – with success. So no, it’s not exactly mine, but it’s still my contribution to Java’s for the season. And this evening, the owner created a new blend of coffee and let me name it, which – and yes, it sounds cheesy – just made my night. I called it the AngelFire Blend, named after the town in New Mexico. A few of the other coffees are called things like Coyote Blend and Taos Mountain, in true cheesy Southwestern style, so the name was my little tribute to New Mexico, which I do sort of miss every now and again. I hear AngelFire, NM is a nice little town with a huge ski resort. AngelFire Blend coffee is a nice little coffee with a lot of caffeine. Seems fitting, sort of. So I named the coffee, wrote a sweet little description of it (“a mild heavenly blend with a flare” – yes, I’m fucking cheesy.) and drank three cups of it. Ergh. I’m not sleeping for a week.

Nathan gave me a book this evening: poetry by Pablo Neruda called, “Odes to Common Things.” He liked it for me because I’m cheesy and can enjoy weird little things like spoons and cats and orange peels. And the thrill of getting to name the new coffee blend. Sometimes, I think the whole world revolves around small stuff, like Christmas lights and my dad’s stupid Christmas carols, and buying nails to hang my pictures, and the sweet little old woman who helped my choose exactly the right nails, and trying on stupid hats, and my mother’s timeless advice that buying a pair of pretty underwear will make a bad day perfect again. Nathan told me once that he’d had a group of mentally handicapped people as customers at Java Joe’s, and they’d been absolutely thrilled to pieces that Java Joe’s had 7-Up. Something to that effect. We decided that we wished we could see the world with such pure eyes: to be so excited about 7-Up when the rest of the world complains that there are too many croutons in its salad. I aspire to that height: to be thrilled when somebody loans me a dollar, rather than bitter that I can’t afford a car; to be grateful for things like ducks and peaches and those little tiny ice cubes that are round… And places that serve 7-Up. Nathan seems to think I’m already on my way to letting the world sustain me with pea-sized helpings of pleasure. Maybe I am. Maybe it’s the coffee talking again. Whatever my status may be on the scale of Random Optimistic Cheesiness, I have a fantastic friend in Nathan. Someday, I’ll buy him the biggest, bubbliest 7-Up I can find.

(I have had WAY too much coffee this evening. I am officially CUT OFF.)

I cleaned a bit this morning – put away some videos and went through my yarn collection… In the process, I found an old project I started when I was probably around twelve… It’s a tiny little white doily, but I think I’m going to work on it some more and make it into a hat. I look good in stupid hats. And it’s something pretty to hold in my hands when coffee and Norman are inaccessible.

Speaking of Norman, as of this morning, he was still mumbling that he was a loser, but I bit him several times, and I think in a few days or a week or with a good movie, a beer, and a backrub, he’ll feel a little better.

It’s still mad cold in my apartment. My next purchase is going to be a small space heater for my bird, who has been curled up in his wing for a week now, the poor baby. My next immediate course of action is going to be a trip to the kitchen for another cup of tea, and then a trip to a nice warm bed where I can write letters and make myself a stupid hat.

Love,
~Helena*

“Fuck the world, baby. I think you’re beautiful.” --Helena, to Norman, being uncharacteristically cheesy.