SPENDING (NEVER SKIPPING) CHRISTMAS IN TRANSITU

I got home today, December 26th, at 4 pm ET, with body three-quarters spent, and memories of money well-spent. Since 2 pm PT yesterday I was on the move, if not on the rush, from the other side of the continent, like a dippy double-agent with a crucial rendezvous with nothing and everything, forever looking over my shoulder to see if I was at least followed by a pertinacious fly dispatched by the dispatcher to find out how I was doing. I was - still am - doing fine. Thanks much to Jet of Antipolo (for now), and to Ree of Quietrivers (and Roaringwords) for the Christmas greets. Moments like this, opening your blogsite as soon as you got home from a long hiatus and finding out some surprising visits, and it tugs your heart to find that in your absence people leave their mark to assure your future presence. Thanks, beautiful people and happy holidays, too.

And as I was saying, I was on the move. Funny how we could not always follow the mathematical principle that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. In my case I had to do a turnabout, a turnaround, probably even a turn the tide in order to get home from the other side of life. I just had to do away with principles, mathematical and otherwise, you see, for in this trying times the best way to spend the holidays was with the love of your life - be it for the heart, be it for the mind, be it for the eyes; be it a person, a place or a thing - for in the sole company I had in this long travel, JM Coetzee through Elizabeth Costello, it was written that women are the creatures that live closest to the ground. Make it then, for keeps, that the person I was with, the places I went to see, and all things I enjoyed, were all women.

Here was my record of motion:

December 25, 2:00 pm PT, I was shuttled to the train station;
December 25, 3:00 pm PT, I was in the train going to San Francisco;
December 25, 8:00 pm PT, I was, in my regressing mind, the only living soul in San Francisco. The city was deserted, everyoneone was in the comfort of their homes, and the neons twinkling in symphony were telling me, Go home already, you punk from the East.
December 25, 8:30 pm PT, I was in San Francisco airport ready for my 10:pm PT flight, only to be told it was delayed for two hours or more.
December 26, 8:30 am ET, I was in Pittsburgh, watching the snow flakes rudely obstructing my view of the tarmac. My final flight was, as the first, delayed because they had to scrape the wet snow that blanketed the plane. In my boredom had to go around and find some lonely girls. To my unfortune, all the girls in this city were very, very happy.
December 26, 2:00 pm ET, I was in my city, cold and windy, finding myself at a bookstore/cd store, looking for books/cds to send my bestfrineds from the Net. I got them the books/cds, though I'm not sure I could send them those books/cds, so people please understand that it's the thought that counts, the thought that I bought you these books/cds. In the meantime that I am weighing the pros and cons of sending these cargoes to you, let me brag the stuffs I thought you about:

For Belle: George Winston, All The Seasons cd
For Jobert: BarenakedLadies Stunt cd
For Jet: Rare (or was it medium rare?) live/acoustics cd of Matchbox Twenty
Ghost: A very rare recording of AB cd
Angela: Of course the book you were asking for, hija, JF Gardner, plus ah, surprise...
JungianRocker: Luciano Pavarotti under hypnosis cd;
Dennis the missing in action Bopis: Disgrace by Coetzee;

For my last post this year, (this lifetime?), my travails in pretty San Francisco, and the most beautiful place I've laid my eyes on, the Yosemite National Park. See you when I see you, then.