snowbells and sleighbells

i love Christmas. the magic, the wonder, the waiting. the eggnog and clementines and candy canes and fruitcake. the smell of fresh pine garlands draping the lampposts, and the sound of carols floating on the downtown air (courtesy of the allegheny county courthouse, whose two lusty speakers pump out music from dawn to dusk). i love that the city opens wide its arms — that there are people, people, people — people skimming around the giant Christmas tree on the glistening PPG Place ice rink, people strolling by the lavish window displays of Macy’s and Saks, people throwing coins into Salvation Army buckets and clapping for the amateur brass quartet on the corner of Fifth and Smithfield, people wrapped in scarves and gloves and hats, people wandering through the life-size creche outside the U.S. Steel Building. i would love it even if that’s all it was. but i love it more because it reminds me of how humble, amazing, creative, and loving our God is. really, the whole Incarnation is the most perfect twist in the story of life, the most intricate figure in the Great Dance.

anyone looking forward to this weekend? me too. i’ll be glad to have medical science and physiology finals done (i don’t mind studying med sci, and the last few physiology lectures on hormones have been fascinating, but i don’t want to memorize all the steps of all the cycles of cellular respiration again. poo.) and on friday nick’s whisking us away to martinsburg for some much needed r & r. we may even redeem the horse & carriage ride, gifted to us by his parents last Christmas!!! (i know.) it’ll be good to hang out with the Will clan again, and on sunday the clan proper will descend (including the illustrious and outspoken aunt ada, of whom i have heard many tales). that whole time, the only thing i have to study is my love, anatomy. so sometimes it’s a little overwhelming, but it’s just so cool i have to forgive it! one unfortunate byproduct of loving anatomy is being unable to thoroughly enjoy watching pro football. every time someone gets tackled or intercepted or sacked or whatever, i have to consciously stop myself from yelling at the TV. except instead shouting “get ‘im’!” like my favourite boy, i’m prone to exclaim in righteous indignation: “how can people just do that? do you know what’s right there in your shoulder? your brachial plexus and your axillary artery! and did you know that that part of your skull is extremely prone to fracture? and that you could lacerate your superficial temporal artery and get an epidural hematoma and die?” this is why i could never be in sports medicine. i’d stand there over a patient with a concussion and tell him he’s an idiot for putting himself in such a dangerous situation and he has the next four hours to think it over while his brain swells.

actually not. but i’d still be like, “and after you’re all better, you’re going to go be a businessman, right?”

well, back home for lunch and studying and maybe a wee bit of cheesecake as a mid-afternoon reward. you see, anna has this pair of yellow and black satin pumps, which are simply called The Shoes. apparently she met a guy in an elevator a few days ago who admired The Shoes and he bought her cheesecake (beautiful creamy cheesecake with an apple crumble topping). and she met another guy at university who offered to buy her a direct flight from boston to frankfurt so she could come spend a few days with him first before she has to go back to germany. that particular offer had nothing to do with The Shoes, but when she met him she was wearing them. i would be kind of jealous except that 1) i don’t need any extraneous boy attention and 2) she’s sharing the cheesecake. but still!