Anne, my oldest daughter, made it home from across the Atlantic ocean. At 20 years old, she has lived across the Atlantic twice. She has a year left for her Bachelors degree where she is a double major in German and political science and has already been offered a career job at Charles's company (she did a summer internship and they loved her). But no. She has bigger dreams. Also, Anne married this cool tall guy who we all love--but I don't know who loves him more Anne or Charles. Charles is weird and people typically don't really get him (or even try), but somehow Spencer and Charles completely jive. He is always saying how much he loves Spencer, which means everything to me and to Anne.
Em D got married. I knew her in the grad program at BYU and then the grad program at the UOU. (We were both just that insane.) We loved each other and probably would have been best friends if our lives were not so entirely different. She is 33 and happy in this arty Salt Lake scene which I was jealous of--then this awesome guy walked into her life (also an artist) and wala! They got married. Now Emily won't have to pretend like love doesn't matter and that paper, paints, and words could be her lover when really she was lonely. So this was a happier than happy wedding.
Then my nephew married an awesome girl too.
I spent the week watching The Killing Season 3. Probably a bad idea. I'm not the sort to run to dark T.V. shows but Mireille Enos was my friend at Theatre Camp (we actually starred in a production of The House of Bernarda Alba together), so I watch her show. It gets really dark and never lets up. When I pulled my head out of the show, I noticed christmas is coming.
We've been to a lot of Christmas parties which are so fun.
People I love are descending on Utah for the holidays. Both my brothers. Charles's brothers. Ben and Vijaya! Kat and Wade!
I'm in the thick of teaching Huck Finn, Twelfth Night, and British Satire. Teaching is not for wussies. Nor for people who want to get paid. Or be appreciated. Or. Or. Or.
But Santa is real.
1 comment:
Here you are, sneaking in a post of happiness. Thanks for being Erica, who does all those things.
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