Not a Preacher Was Slurring...

A Squirrel Eating Red Berries outside the Met. (bad touch-up job by me.)

19325 Steps

Christmas Eve 2007.

Though I am far from home, away from family, and orphaned by my parents, I managed to keep alive all of our favorite Christmas Eve traditions: I got up, did an Excel spread sheet of all the possible contacts I have for work, walked with a friend to Grant's Tomb (He is still right there next to the missus), stopped in to hear the choir sing divinely at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine (Do you know they are doing refurbishments on that church and the actual initial building has never been finished? That means parts have gone into disrepair before the whole was every completed. Much like life, I suppose.), got a Christmas Eve massage and went home to watch Julie Christie slowly sink into Alzheimer's in "Away from Her."

Blissful.

As a matter of fact it was all kind of okay. I have so loved this season and being here and I did all the Christmasy things I could want to do. I even went to Bach Vespers last night at Holy Trinity Church on Central Park West. Amazingly beautiful. So today was kind of great in its not so Christmas Evieness.

And now to sleep to awaken on Christmas morn and see what Santa has put under the pumpkin.

And to all a rude bite?, a lewd kite?, a "should write"?