Holiday Ruminations

Every year around the holidays, I get all reflective. It's odd that I can find the time between baking cookies, Christmas shopping, planning to exchange the gifts with friends, and packing my formidable pile of laundry for the greatness of my Mom's washer and dryer, but work tends to be slow around Christmas, and as people empty out of the office at the end of this week for their Christmas destinations I have time to ponder.
I know we've still got eleven days left in 2005, but I always think about what this year brought me, and what the next year has up it's long sleeve. This year was a roller-coaster, but was generally good. I had the Whatever, then I didn't, then I did, now I don't. As much as it drove me (and to a much larger extent, my friends) crazy, I'm glad I gave it a go. For a while there I thought I wasn't capable of being with a guy, of flirting, keeping him interested and introducing my Mom to a boyfriend. I got to do all that this year, and now I'm honestly content to be single. I miss waking up next to someone, but I like being able to do what I want, when I want, without considering someone else in the equation. I guess I'm selfish, but it's better to be selfish now then when I have a family and SO to consider, right?
Because I'm not considering another half of myself, I'm also wondering what I should do with my life this year. I've been at my Company for almost three years, and as much as I love the people I work with, I kind of want to try something new. I want to write more, which isn't going to happen here. I'd ideally travel for a year or so, in either a working or aimless wandering capacity, then settle somewhere where I can live by myself in a fairly nice place, perhaps with a big, friendly dog. But I also finally have a life for myself in Boston, after setting it up for five years. I have friends, I have a part-time writing gig, a job and an apartment-- would it be foolish to give it up? Or is now the time, when I can always come back to Boston with my tail between my legs and souvenirs for the friends I left here? "Sorry I moved away. Here's a bobblehead doll. Can we hang out?" How can I be sure this is the place for me when there are so many places I haven't seen? When the wind is cold and blows through my clothes like they're not there at all, when I pay the rent and have no money left over from my paycheck when it clears, when the liquor store doesn't shovel snow and I slide every morning on the glare ice, it makes me think I belong somewhere else, environmentally speaking. But I do love this dirty water when the cold lets up and people venture outside again. When the roar of the crowd at Fenway is audible when you walk down Brookline Avenue at dusk. The bartender waving in recognition. Do I want to try to find these moments somewhere else?
Winter just begs us to reflect. Summer wants us to go out, experience things, stay out until well after the sunset. Winter wants you to stay in and think. Last night I went home after work and prepared the cookies for our office cookie swap. I made chocolate and maraschino cherry cookies. They aren't very beautiful, nor are they very Christmasy (except the red cherry), but it wouldn't be the holidays for me without them. My Mom always made them for Christmas, and since I've been on my own I've made them for roommates and coworkers. As I melted the chocolate chips for the frosting that covers the cherries, I remembered how many times I've done this, how many times my Mom popped a Christmas tape in the kitchen radio and hugged me. The shiny chocolate reminded me that we can take the good times with us, and the little memories sneak up on us. No matter what happens in the next year, it'll be as it should.