home for the first time in 03 and hours from some of my favorite playmates. well i have three books to comfort me: two my indulgent father bought me yesterday (another chabon, another franzen) and one i'd forgotten my aunt gave me for hannukah.
sidenote: in high skool it was so simple. everyone celebrated hannukah. that was it. no stockings, no ho-ho-ho, no carolling (unless you were mocking them) certainly no presents under christmas trees. when ben's father added, on the evening designated as their gift exchange, that something lay wrapped under the tree for me, i was so flummoxed i viscerally learned the meaning of the word. that the gift turned out to be classical music -- "no words," grinned ross, looking over my shoulder -- unsettled me further. no one ever taught me how to sit still and listen to classical music. after 20 minutes of staring into the candelabra ben's dad had set up in the fireplace, my ADD started kicking in. when the music ended i wanted to say something profound and simply could not think of a thing. i blame the tree.

ross ben and i had spent that evening with ross's 2nd set of maternal grandparents, up in the country where they own their own vineyard. george, our disaffected intellectual host, went to harvard and studied government with jfk, for whom the skool was later named. michelle, our redgrave-like hostess, studied at juliard and danced on broadway before shifting her focus to culinary skool. they prepared us a lovely dinner and served their own, surprisingly good wine.
the day before we'd paid a visit to ben's russian grandmother in the bronx. she compensated for her difficulties with english with her ease with food, urging on us cake fruit chocolate buttered-bread coffee wine brandy.

now after all that family i'm with my own again. i guess i have to get started on that stuff i have to do. or maybe i'll go read wonder boys ... or explore mckee's website. the guy from adaptation -- yet another meta level. wow. that's the kind of thing i need, a story seminar. structure is my weak point in fiction too. i can't stand those conventional endings where everyone grows and learns and is happy forever after. i really liked about schmidt's ending even if i had issues with the film. it worked for that character; it felt plausible. but making that compromise between what's plausible and what's palatable is really damn hard.