If I were to write a holiday newsletter about this year and really tell you all the things that made up 2013 it would be a novella. You'd have to put the other bills and mail aside and lean on your counter and ignore the world while you let yourself get lost. You'd put your hand to you mouth and then you'd curl your toes and if you cried it would be both happy and sad at the same time, like Christmas. The end of the year wraps us all in mystery and we really have to stand there and let those other days wash up to us. Wet us down like dogs. We shake and stand there like children. Next time. Next year, I'll get it all right. I'll pulsate. Glow.