Finally Home For The Holidays.

It took a few days to recover from all of the post-Halloween chicanery, having done my best to survive the legion of the inebriated undead. It was also nice not having to wash fake blood off of me for a change.

I spent my days at the house, setting things on fire at the Museum in the name of science:

Flaming hands.

Flaming hands.

Apparently, you can tear up a tiny strip of T-shirt, roll it up, bind it with twine, douse it in lighter fluid, and carry around a portable fireball in your hand. It got hot, but it never burned me. I did feel pretty cool holding fire in my hand and not getting burned, though. Ah, science (Just no lawsuits stating “Well, Guy said so”, please. Because I didn’t. Whatever it is you think I said, I didn’t).

Not to mention the matter working on projects in the backyard, as Junie supervised my progress:

Does not tolerate slackers.

Does not tolerate slackers.

I ended up being hired on at the Museum, from Volunteer to Volunteer Coordinator. As foretold, one shall rise from the ranks to lead them all, and apparently, I was “The Chosen One”. I also helped out with the marketing aspects as well, so it all started as a pretty nice set-up.

I ended up working on CSI: Las Vegas again, as a bellhop for the Luxor:

I mastered this pose from "The Love Boat".

I mastered this pose from “The Love Boat”.

And there were auditions, and acting events in swanky lofts…. One had to wonder where all this was before.

I even got to see Bill Cosby perform live again, right after an excellent Thanksgiving dinner:

The Cosby Show... stage

The Cosby Show… stage.

But what I was really excited for was the chance to celebrate a normal holiday in the new house. The last one was in 2007, when Dad was alive. The following two years didn’t really offer much to celebrate, but I had a yard to decorate this time.

It's beginning to look a lot like....

It’s beginning to look a lot like….

Good grief!

Good grief!

And the tree.

And the tree.

We even had a bit of fun at the Museum. With all the “world culture” holidays going on, my colleagues and I decided to add our own, courtesy of an old Mystery Science Theater 3000 skit.

Like a roundhouse kick straight to the Yule log.

Like a roundhouse kick straight to the Yule log.

We had a Patrick Swayze Christmas.

All felt right in the world. It was as if everything had fallen into place, and just let me exist and find some peace. There were some things that could never fully be replaced, some holes never truly filled, but for the first time in a very long time, I felt a sense of belonging. Like I was finally home, my little family and all.

It was a feeling, I found, that I could get used to.