So it snowed yesterday. I drove home singing winter holiday songs loudly without any car radio. I thought to myself. “Self, you are pretty good.” I was being serious singer Jen.

When I got home I continued with the festivus. I put most of the fall decorations into a pile, and fixed the curtains so I could see the snowflakes outside (harshly blowing, big, fluffy snow- but violent) My Sasha kitten LOVES watching the snowflakes. He will jump up at the window and chase the snowflakes with his paw…soooooooo adorable.

Christmas music is running rampant. I’m singing at the top of my lungs. SO happy. But then, then things took a turn for sentimental and serious. I put in Charlotte Church (because I was singing along at the top of my game.) and “What Child Is This” came on….and I cried. I love that song and every time I hear it I tear up and cry. So beautiful. (CURSE YOU MOM FOR MAKING ME INTO THIS PERSON!

Then I listen to “O Holy Night” cause that is my other favorite hymn. Next stop, Amy Grant. “Mary’s Song-Breath of Heaven.” Crrrrrrry. Now I am crying because I realize that half my life has gone by since the first time I heard that song. (Amy Grant—high school Christian boyfriend and friends…see the connection?)

AND IT JUST HAPPENS that the math worked out perfectly. 15 years. 30 years. Half of my life has passed in front of my eyes. And what do I have to show for it? 15 years ago everything in my world changed, innocence lost. And here I am half my life later and I feel that I’m exactly the same. I can feel the same raw emotions just as strongly today, as I did back then, if I allow myself to do so. Seriously, where did the last 15 years go?

Oh and it gets better, because once I am wallowing it all comes down…then I am thinking about, no one in particular, but the IDEA of that no one….and how this no one in my life occupied the last 5 (7) years and knew that the first snowfall was my most favorite day of the whole year. (Although, really, it is the first snowfall that sticks on the ground)

Even last year when I decided once and for all that this no one, would be just that, no one called me on the day of the first snowfall from work. BLAH! More wasted time.

The idea of no one haunts me. Sad, but true. “I like it better when your just an idea.” (Ron Hawkins) Ideas don’t leave, unless YOU are ready for them to leave.

Afraid of finding something real.

And all of that emotion is wrapped up in listening to Christmas songs? Thank you to poor Erin who caught me in the middle of this disaster waiting to happen and saved me from myself. Irrational overemotional overreactive PMS Jen

“I could have already lived 2/3 of my life and what do I have to show for it?” (last generation of Smith’s average lifespan 49.5 years) What does one say to THAT? Loaded rantings.

Now, wait. That took a most serious turn. Better left to personal journal of perpetual therapeutic need…Back to lighthearted Jen.

4b. Examination of Band-Aid “DO THEY KNOW ITS CHRISTMAS TIME?”

After getting off the phone with Erin, I put in WOW! Vol. 1. And the song “Do They Know It’s Christmas Time” came on while I was in the shower…and I cried. (Now this one is tricky because it plays on the radio in public, and I have to hold back the tears…) But I am out of the self-defeating beatmesenseless crying and back to happy idealistic savetheworld “Orphan Train” Jen (as John likes to call me)

Let’s ponder this song. Do THEY know it’s Christmas? No. Examine this song further. “There wont be snow in Africa this Christmas time.” Yep. The people in Africa do not know it is Christmas time at all, not because they are hungry, but because they are most likely not Christian. How did I not see through this blatant Jerry Falwell proselytizing of Christianity???? And in the year 1984, by BONO! Coincidence, I think so…he he.

4c. Soprano Jen.

I have been singing since in the womb. Love to sing. Love it. Sang in the Church choir, in choruses K-12. And I always sang as Soprano. In high school, at NYSSMA, at Music camp and in voice lessons… Soprano I in fact. Although when I am not trying, I am not able to get up that high…too much work, but the capability is there, untapped like all other potential I might have. It was much more fun making faces across the room at my best friend, the evil Alto II, look lovingly and longingly at the beautiful Tenor of the Day who I was smitten over, and crack jokes about our director Jack needing a Big Mac with my other Soprano comrades. Ah the fond memories.

Once I made it to college, I tried out for the choir. My new director “Chief” thought that I would make a better AltoII in his group…since my range was plentiful I figured why not…I loved singing along to Madonna’s sultry low notes in La Isla Bonita… Katie wasn’t at Allegheny to make fun of me wanting to be her because sopranos are a “dime a dozen.” Sure. (Plus I could hit some of the same notes as my newest Tenor COLLEGE crush…so we found out when we auditioned!) Fine. Plus after I discovered alcohol, lower was better naturally.

So WHY ON EARTH did I have the uncanny ability to hit the high notes today? I even found myself singing into my answering machine to hear what I sounded like. “And the glory, the glory the glory of the LOOOOOOOORD. Shall be re-e-e-vel-e-e-e-el-ed.” God bless the poor neighbors who heard this crazy rendition of Handle’s Messiah at 12:20 in the afternoon!!!! It has been a while since I have seriously sang. Weird wild stuff. I thought I had exorcised that demon. However, there I was squeaking away…of course I would switch back and forth between parts. Interesting. I need to find an outlet to sing…Sweet Adelines with Fruth??? St Paul’s Adult Choir (wait, I would have to GET UP and make it to church for that!) Something to think about. (Not the getting up for church part, the singing part… : )