I singed my eyebrows at the bonfire last night. They’re not all the way gone, but they’re definitely short. I wasn’t drunk. Really. I was just cold.
Early in the evening, I watched as our host lit a bonfire with kerosene. I watched at a distance. I don’t like the smell of a bonfire made of kerosene. Later, it smelled like a good wood fire and it seemed that all the spilled kerosene would have either flamed up or been washed out by the rain. I’m not stupid. I’d expected the kerosene to surprise us the way it can sometimes. I took video just in case. Thankfully, it didn’t.
Later, I sang in front of a crowd full of mostly strangers. I’d like to tell you that’s not a bad thing, but you wouldn’t believe me until I did it. Why is it that ugly old women aren’t supposed to be able to sing? I want to know. People were surprised and kept asking me questions about my voice. You know, a voice is a voice. God gave it to me. I didn’t have anything to do with creating it. I felt so awkward. Why were people so surprised? Lots of people can sing. I know that somehow I’ve let this gift I was born with lie fallow for most of my life. What I don’t have in great quantities is courage, even when I do have the desire.to sing out. If I had more courage, that would be a thing to be proud of. But I don’t sing out very often. Ours is not generally a society in which people encourage people to sing in public. Maybe I’ll actually find the courage to sing to a doubting crowd in my next life.
Near midnight, they handed out sparklers. I lit mine from the middle so that it burned in two directions and died twice as fast. People kept lighting theirs from one end as if that were the rule. Who made that rule? Why can’t I have my sparklers lit in two places? Why do I worry about what people think of the way I light my sparklers?
Last night, I remember leaning into the fire to light a new sparkler and it was a bit too warm. I could feel the sting of heat on my hands and face. These days, I don’t get a bit too warm very often so it was a rather pleasant sensation until the wind dropped a large invisible hand down on the top of the fire and ashes swirled all around me like strange music formed in lights. I slapped at ashes that landed on my cotton jacket, but I didn’t see any holes. How could I be so lucky, I wondered? I didn’t realized I’d singed my eyebrows until later.
At the countdown, I leaned past someone to kiss Mike. I still wanted it to be him even after all these years. I’m still surprised sometimes that he’s stuck with me. Lately, I haven’t been easy. Insomnia sucks. Old people shouldn’t sing in public. Sparklers are meant to light from one end. If I singed my eyebrows, I must have been drunk. I woke up still feeling as if I’m doing it wrong, but Mike is still with me and I still have some of my eyebrows.
Happy New Year!
Thank you for listening, jules