Rapping Papers

Dear diary,

At Nina's, swinging to a jazz band, playing Christmas standards. There's a little, realistically fake tree, festooned with lights, blinking beside my radiator, and the furniture's freshly dusted. It's one of those nights that's in the perfect light, and the glances from strangers are brightened with smiles.

I broke my trombone out of retirement last night, and played the Iowa Fight Song. Amazingly, I can still muster the lung capacity for it. Marching would be another story altogether. It's covered in reflective, sparkly tape, red and silver, that would glint in the bright Iowa sunshine.

Took more of my parent's records, an Elton John and a Billy Joel. They probably had no idea that they would wind up touring together, year after year. I like singing along to Joel; my octave matches his well. My downstairs neighbor has to listen, and one of these days, I expect a tip to slither beneath my door.

I bought doughnuts for the office today, and while there were only about four of us, they were devoured in under a half-hour. I forced my brain to run on glazed sugar for four hours, before ordering a sub. I can't believe how quickly Christmas has come! My first Christmas with Sarah. I'm blessed to have friends, and family to share it with.

Peace out.