It's Only Words. And Words are All I Have.

Have you noticed just how when someone dies, nothing that anyone else says to the family/friends/loved ones, no matter how well meaning, is of any use?

Most of the time I really want to say, "This sucks donkey balls and I hope you find the strength in you to get through this horrible mess of a time." But apparently, that's not allowed, so I end up saying something lame like, "I'm sorry for your loss."As if they've misplaced their favourite pair of socks or something.

Hallmark really needs to get some new writers.

I'm not loving my job in it's current avatar. I think I'll apply.

A Christmas Quest

Yesterday, I headed over to my aunt's house to partake in a Christmas tradition with my mum, aunt and wee cousins of making Christmas sweets together. As I left my flat to make my way over to the train station, I suddenly realized that I hadn't accounted for the heavy bags I was carrying and it would take me longer than usual to get to the station. Frantic to get there in time, I started an awkward shuffle run my bags slamming into my legs threatening to trip me at every step. A short ways up the road, and knew I wasn't going to make it. There was less than ten minutes to the train and I still had a steep hill to climb. And then, my Christmas miracle happened!

A cabbie pulled up besides me and the driver yelled for me to get in. Not really thinking, I obeyed. "Going to the station, are you? Well, I'll get you there in time. The next train doesn't come for another hour." And he proceed to drive me to the station and refused to take any money. Those few minutes were all I needed and I did make my train and got to spend a most lovely afternoon with my family.

Full of surprise and downright shock over the unexpected kindles of a total stranger, I gushed to my friends online as to how perhaps the spirit of the season was indeed alive and well.

Then I woke up this morning to the news of two firefighters who were fatally shot as they responded to the scene of a house fire. Two others were wounded and as the story unfolded it became clear that the shooter had set the fire to lure out the first responders. Today. On Christmas Eve.

All of the euphoria over yesterday's event seemed to drain right out of me. "It's not such a wonderful world after, is it?" was my query to the online world. What was the point in being silly happy over something ordinary like a generous cabbie when there were bigger, far more horrible things were happening that need our more serious attention.

But I have very wise friends, and one of them gently pointed out that both events happened. Both truths are true. The important part is that I get to choose which of these will touch me most deeply and change me most persistently. Sometimes we hone ourselves because of negative experiences and sometimes due to positive ones. Always our choice. 

Her words made me pause and think. 

Yes, there is an awful lot of horror in this world. But at every step there has been a teeny tiny glimmer of hope. Each time there is some kind of disaster, be it natural or manmade, humanity finds a way to shine through. Neighbours organized community Thanksgiving meals after Hurricane Sandy   and in the wake of the unspeakable horror of the events in Newton, CT, the #26Acts campaign was formed. 

So perhaps hope is still alive. And as long as at least one person hopes and believes in a better tomorrow, isn't that enough to keep the evil at bay? In the words of a very wise wizard, "It's not great power that that can hold evil in check. Rather, it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love." 

If a hobbit can face a dragon, I can find the courage in me to face the dragons of this world. And I know I won't be alone. All of the mighty quests involved a fellowship. There will be others, and we will help each other if one of us should stumble along the way. 

It's going to be a Happy Christmas after all. 

5 Ways to Guarantee a Christmas Miracle

There's been a lot of talk about "not feeling Christ-massy" that's been going around of late. The malls are packed (over packed) with shoppers, the radio stations have blasting carols since way back in November and every street corner and lamp post is bedecked with holly, ivy and synthetic tinsel. Huuum, yes, well I can see why it can perhaps look like Christmas and sound like Christmas and smell like Christmas, but still not really FEEL like Christmas.

So, rather than sit around and moan about how Climate Change has made it soooooo difficult to really enjoy the season without the mandatory dusting of snow and such, here are 5 ways guaranteed to make you feel joyful and bright and all that Christmas jazz.

1. Winter Wonder Walk
If Christmas has really become all about the commercialism, well, why not just embrace it instead of fighting it? Pop on a headset with some classic seasonal tunes and talk a walk along main street and check out the beautifully decorated shop windows. Merchandisers have gone all out in their efforts to out do each other and lure in the most number of shoppers. Might as well give them their due and enjoy their creativity while humming along some of your favourite songs of the season.

2. Bake Fest
Nothing screams festivities more like the wondrous aroma of baking. Gather some of your close pals and try out some old family favouries or attempt a new concoction. The results don't even matter. It's all the fun you will have in the process that counts!

3. Letter of Thanks
In spite of how crappy you are currently feeling about your apparent lack of seasonal cheer, let's stop a second to think about the hundreds of thousands of men and women of the military who are far away from home and their loved ones serving their countries. Sure, it's not like bygone times and they have access to the internet and can still keep up with happenings at home; but I'm sure a card with a wee note will make a world of difference. Even if you say nothing more than a simple "Thank You".

4. Share your Love
Pretty much every charity, homeless shelter or foster home out there is looking for volunteers to help out around the holidays. Heck, come to think of it, they're looking for a few good people year round. Walk into any one and there is a whole heap you can help with. Wrap a present for under the tree, serve a meal, read to someone or just have a chat. It will make more of a difference that you will ever know and the kick backs of goodwill towards mankind can never ever be underestimated.

5. Count your Blessings
Sounds corny, yes. But it is incredible how much we don't realise we have! But it all down on paper and when you see how it spills onto page two you'll find that all your Christmasses have come all at once!

Whether or not you decide to do any of this, I wish you, Dear Reader, a most happy of holiday seasons. May love and laughter be the gifts that adorn your home and the comfort and joy of friends and loved ones around.

Merry Christmas.

Version 2.0

It goes without saying that I haven't visited blog land in quite a while. I'm surprised I even recalled the correct password. Logged in today and looked at the very faraway date of the last entry. How did I go from writing TWO blogs to none at all? From dancing almost very day of the week to not once in over three years?

What does this say about me? If I'm not doing the things that made me me, am still me any more? Or perhaps, just an imitation. A different version.

I non writing, non dancing Pixy can exist, yes.

But will she be just as interesting as the one that I knew and loved? And what about you, my blog land pals. How are we still to be friends if I don't come on here?

Something tells me that I'm ready to give up the old Pixy, but not the Pixy pals.

And so, I must try harder. 

New Love

I don't have a TV, but I am in a committed relationship with Netflix and I watch all of the current shows online.

People do look at me strangely when I say I don't have cable. Or a TV.

I suspect they figure that since I don't have a boyfriend, I should at least have basic cable in my life. 

Stating the Obvious

Got home from work early(ish) today to prep for tomorrow's big Halloween celebrations at work. Since I had foolishly agreed to a client meeting during the day, there was the added pressure of trying to find an outfit that would make the quick switch between regular clothes and costume! After emptying out the entire contents of my wardrobe onto my bed, I decided that pirate was the easiest option as I already had the accessories and it would be quick enough making an eye patch to complete the look.

I retrieved the piece of felt and laid it out on the kitchen counter. Since we don't have a dining table, the counter serves dual purpose. On surveying the cutlass and ornate pirate like pistol, I deem that they could both do with a bit of a jazz up. Gold paper would do the trick, so I left the stuff on the counter and popped round to the shops.

Got back to find the Flatmate in a state of cleaning flurry. "Thought I'd scrub everything down", he said beaming at me. "About bloody time" is what I thought as I looked around for the piece of felt. Where the heck was it? I'd only just laid it out along with the scissors and elastic. Wait, what was that crumpled up thing in the corner? Sopping wet and ragged? My felt!!!! What?!!

Flatmate sees me lift it up. "By the way, we need a better counter cloth. That one sucks. Doesn't absorb a damned thing. It's like it's felt or something!"

Career Choices

The thing I love the most about being a commuter is the variety of folk you tend to see, meet and interact with on public transit. Usually I am a passive observer of the kaleidoscope of life. Today was different. 

Lady (and I use this term loosely) on the streetcar with a persistent hacking cough. After about 20 minutes of having her hack up a lung, another lady approaches her and says, "I have some cough drops, would you like one?"

Cougher lady reacts with a venomous hiss (really!) and shouts of, "Leave me alone! Stop HARASSING me!!" 

While the poor Samaritan tries to creep awa

y from the unexpected onslaught of verbal abuse, I suddenly find the whole thing hilarious and start laughing. And because I am laughing like an out-of-control hyena, the folks around me start to laugh as well.

Of course, this does nothing to calm the Cougher and she gets even more enraged and the shouting escalates and there is hand waving involved.

Finally, much to everyone's relief she gets off the vehicle and the last we see of her is the rude gesture directed at a streetcar full of giggling riders.

Moral of the story: I realise that I am not suited for the Diplomatic Corps.