{"version":"1.0","provider_name":"Amber Bird | Blog","provider_url":"https:\/\/www.amberbird.com\/blog","author_name":"amber","author_url":"https:\/\/www.amberbird.com\/blog\/author\/admin\/","title":"There Are Stars at the End - Amber Bird | Blog","type":"rich","width":600,"height":338,"html":"<blockquote class=\"wp-embedded-content\" data-secret=\"mMdOs0rwmg\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.amberbird.com\/blog\/2018\/01\/05\/there-are-stars-at-the-end\/\">There Are Stars at the End<\/a><\/blockquote><iframe sandbox=\"allow-scripts\" security=\"restricted\" src=\"https:\/\/www.amberbird.com\/blog\/2018\/01\/05\/there-are-stars-at-the-end\/embed\/#?secret=mMdOs0rwmg\" width=\"600\" height=\"338\" title=\"&#8220;There Are Stars at the End&#8221; &#8212; Amber Bird | Blog\" data-secret=\"mMdOs0rwmg\" frameborder=\"0\" marginwidth=\"0\" marginheight=\"0\" scrolling=\"no\" class=\"wp-embedded-content\"><\/iframe><script>\n\/*! This file is auto-generated *\/\n!function(d,l){\"use strict\";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&\"undefined\"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!\/[^a-zA-Z0-9]\/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret=\"'+t.secret+'\"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret=\"'+t.secret+'\"]'),c=new RegExp(\"^https?:$\",\"i\"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display=\"none\";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute(\"style\"),\"height\"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):\"link\"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute(\"src\")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener(\"message\",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener(\"DOMContentLoaded\",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll(\"iframe.wp-embedded-content\"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute(\"data-secret\"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+=\"#?secret=\"+t,e.setAttribute(\"data-secret\",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:\"ready\",secret:t},\"*\")},!1)))}(window,document);\n\/\/# sourceURL=https:\/\/www.amberbird.com\/blog\/wp-includes\/js\/wp-embed.min.js\n<\/script>\n","thumbnail_url":"https:\/\/www.amberbird.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/51RHm9wIQOL._SL1500_.jpg","thumbnail_width":1500,"thumbnail_height":1500,"description":"Unsurprisingly, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve been thinking a lot about December and January. About why they often feel like a dark night to me. And not like real, non-metaphorical dark nights that I actually love. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not just the holidays, though I have a complicated enough relationship with the holiday season that I could (I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t) write a post just on that. In short, I wrestle with unfulfilled expectations (not always the ones you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d think; mostly others\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 expectations, but a few of my own) and the aching awareness that I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t recall the last time I felt like the holidays were actually magical (I used to, and I miss it). But, on top of that&#8230; There are the sort of extra expectations that come when you grew up poor and the only time you might get non-essential things is Christmas and your birthday&#8230;and then you have the bad luck (though one sibling has it worse with a Christmas Eve birthday) of having the two events occur within a couple weeks of each other. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s hard to explain how, but the ghost of that swims up every year. The ghost is less angry, but also less cute&#8230; There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the cold&#8230;I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t mind the sun [&hellip;]"}