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Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Oh heyyy
I moved. For lots of reasons. I've taken my favorites from here and put them on new. Thanks, Blogger. It's been real.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Sweet Relief
There is nothing like an author coming through for his readers. I just read Ender in Exile last night. And stayed up until 2 AM to finish it. When an author writes a series for so long, and that series takes so many twists and turns through characters, planets, and the space-time continuum, I get nervous as a reader. What if he decides this is the book that Ender reveals a secret, malicious side? What if he introduces a new character that doesn't make sense and ruins my images of the people I've spent ten years getting to know through these books? Do I sound like a crazy person yet?
I started reading Ender's Game in my tenth grade English class. Sadly, due to getting the flu that November as well as my teacher's bitterness that we were reading this instead of The Old Man and the Sea, I never got to do my favorite thing: discuss it in an English class setting. But I read and reread that book. It was one of the first sci fi books that got my complete attention. Orson Scott Card does an amazing job of capturing the emotional roller coaster of human emotion in these children who face an impossible task. I don't think there's one book I haven't cried over.
So Ender in Exile is supposedly the end of these books. It came out in 2008. So I waited to read it. I was terrified that I'd be disappointed. That I'd not be interested. But I was so wrong. It actually takes place in between the last two chapters of Ender's Game, but it still basically holds the end of the whole plot. It's difficult to explain and involves light years so I won't bore you. But it was like FINALLY getting all of the answers I needed from the book I read at 14 years old. And realizing how important it was to know all of the other things I knew before knowing Ender as an adult.
It's been ages since I stayed up on a school night to finish a book. I couldn't stop. Because I knew at the end, I'd have this feeling that would make me feel content. It's the same feeling I get whenever I read an Ender book. Even if it ends in turmoil, you still feel reassured that there is some good left in people, that you can fix the wrong in the world, and that even the super geniuses among us love and lose and cry and laugh. It's official. I DO sound like a crazy person. But you should pick up Ender's Game. And then call me when you're finished.
I started reading Ender's Game in my tenth grade English class. Sadly, due to getting the flu that November as well as my teacher's bitterness that we were reading this instead of The Old Man and the Sea, I never got to do my favorite thing: discuss it in an English class setting. But I read and reread that book. It was one of the first sci fi books that got my complete attention. Orson Scott Card does an amazing job of capturing the emotional roller coaster of human emotion in these children who face an impossible task. I don't think there's one book I haven't cried over.
So Ender in Exile is supposedly the end of these books. It came out in 2008. So I waited to read it. I was terrified that I'd be disappointed. That I'd not be interested. But I was so wrong. It actually takes place in between the last two chapters of Ender's Game, but it still basically holds the end of the whole plot. It's difficult to explain and involves light years so I won't bore you. But it was like FINALLY getting all of the answers I needed from the book I read at 14 years old. And realizing how important it was to know all of the other things I knew before knowing Ender as an adult.
It's been ages since I stayed up on a school night to finish a book. I couldn't stop. Because I knew at the end, I'd have this feeling that would make me feel content. It's the same feeling I get whenever I read an Ender book. Even if it ends in turmoil, you still feel reassured that there is some good left in people, that you can fix the wrong in the world, and that even the super geniuses among us love and lose and cry and laugh. It's official. I DO sound like a crazy person. But you should pick up Ender's Game. And then call me when you're finished.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Disappointment in the choices of others begot this:
Family stuff is prompting me to write that post about the women in my family to balance the one about some of the men. My friends usually meet my family (en masse, no one ever meets one or two people) and come away saying something like, “Now I know why you are the way you are.” Those might be my favorite words ever, because goodness, my family is full of cool people, and if I’m like them, I’m a happy girl.
My two grandmothers are both survivors. Being one of the older grandchildren, and the only girl for a really long time, means that I’ve probably gleaned more information than the other kids. I know that leaving Cuba wasn’t something they were particularly excited about. I know that sometimes marriage stifled ambitions for them. I know that even though they’re a little batty now, they still aren’t to be trifled with…because they survived hell to get where they are. But before they survived revolution, raising children in a strange place, sickness, and poverty, they survived being women in a time and culture where they might as well have been possessions. One of them had a horrendous childhood, horrendous like the stuff movies are made of, horrendous in ways that have me tearing up even now as I write this…and somehow she finds happiness in life. One of them thought the idea of allowing her gender to control her actions was monumentally stupid, so she didn’t conform. She did other things. Went to school, joined her brothers in a revolution, eventually found a husband (at the then ridiculous age of 27 or 28). She did things the way she wanted to do them. Their lives were hard, probably with more lows than highs, and yet, they are sources of inspiration for me. Paying off my credit cards sucks, but it sucks less than searching mountains for wounded soldiers. Being unemployed was probably, to date, the lowest low I’ve ever had, and yet, I’ve never had any kind of debilitating illness while raising three kids, so how can I dwell on a crappy 8 months?
On the surface, I’m not much like my mother. She’s better at tact, controlling her emotions, and finding the positive in a situation. But our similarities lie deeper. We’re loving, compassionate, generous, and hard workers. Because of those similarities, we can have impressive fights. Goodness knows we have had impressive fights. Her one desire in life was to have children. She knew she was cut out to be a mom. Usually this is the kind of life goal that has me rolling my eyes, but sometimes someone just knows what they’re perfectly cut out for, and that’s her. If I could be a fraction of the mother she is, I would be a happy woman. There are other things to admire. She’s made a fantastic name for herself in her industry, which she originally fell into while looking for a job that would allow her to be home when we got home from school. She’s a good wife, friend, and person. But I think one of the reasons I’m so careful about wanting kids is because I’ve seen what raising them well looks like, and I don’t want to do it any other way.
My aunts are all different and I’ve gotten different things from each of them. My love of learning, my fashion sense, my superior shopping skills, my bullshit radar, the list goes long. I have a lot of aunts. They’ve all added a little something to this pot of soup, which is probably why I’m so spicy sometimes, oops.
All this to say that generations of people have sacrificed, suffered, and pushed just so I could do better. So that my brothers and cousins could do better. And when I see some of us making terrible life choices, I can hardly stomach it. Because choosing poorly after so many people chose correctly is pure disrespect. If you can’t choose correctly for yourself, then choose for your parents or grandparents. Or for your own kids. If you can’t do that, I’m not even sure I want to know you.
My two grandmothers are both survivors. Being one of the older grandchildren, and the only girl for a really long time, means that I’ve probably gleaned more information than the other kids. I know that leaving Cuba wasn’t something they were particularly excited about. I know that sometimes marriage stifled ambitions for them. I know that even though they’re a little batty now, they still aren’t to be trifled with…because they survived hell to get where they are. But before they survived revolution, raising children in a strange place, sickness, and poverty, they survived being women in a time and culture where they might as well have been possessions. One of them had a horrendous childhood, horrendous like the stuff movies are made of, horrendous in ways that have me tearing up even now as I write this…and somehow she finds happiness in life. One of them thought the idea of allowing her gender to control her actions was monumentally stupid, so she didn’t conform. She did other things. Went to school, joined her brothers in a revolution, eventually found a husband (at the then ridiculous age of 27 or 28). She did things the way she wanted to do them. Their lives were hard, probably with more lows than highs, and yet, they are sources of inspiration for me. Paying off my credit cards sucks, but it sucks less than searching mountains for wounded soldiers. Being unemployed was probably, to date, the lowest low I’ve ever had, and yet, I’ve never had any kind of debilitating illness while raising three kids, so how can I dwell on a crappy 8 months?
On the surface, I’m not much like my mother. She’s better at tact, controlling her emotions, and finding the positive in a situation. But our similarities lie deeper. We’re loving, compassionate, generous, and hard workers. Because of those similarities, we can have impressive fights. Goodness knows we have had impressive fights. Her one desire in life was to have children. She knew she was cut out to be a mom. Usually this is the kind of life goal that has me rolling my eyes, but sometimes someone just knows what they’re perfectly cut out for, and that’s her. If I could be a fraction of the mother she is, I would be a happy woman. There are other things to admire. She’s made a fantastic name for herself in her industry, which she originally fell into while looking for a job that would allow her to be home when we got home from school. She’s a good wife, friend, and person. But I think one of the reasons I’m so careful about wanting kids is because I’ve seen what raising them well looks like, and I don’t want to do it any other way.
My aunts are all different and I’ve gotten different things from each of them. My love of learning, my fashion sense, my superior shopping skills, my bullshit radar, the list goes long. I have a lot of aunts. They’ve all added a little something to this pot of soup, which is probably why I’m so spicy sometimes, oops.
All this to say that generations of people have sacrificed, suffered, and pushed just so I could do better. So that my brothers and cousins could do better. And when I see some of us making terrible life choices, I can hardly stomach it. Because choosing poorly after so many people chose correctly is pure disrespect. If you can’t choose correctly for yourself, then choose for your parents or grandparents. Or for your own kids. If you can’t do that, I’m not even sure I want to know you.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
What happens when you're stuck in the house for seven days and then try to escape it
In an unfortunate but true situation, I contemplated being rude to children last night. But to explain why I came very close to yelling at two little boys, we must return to Friday evening.
After receiving some crappy news at work that I’m not going to go into expect to say, “Grrrrr,” I stayed late, ran to dinner with Jenny, ran home, threw clothes in a suitcase for Jersey, then ran to Beth’s house where I was spending the night to be closer to Union Station. Because my train was leaving at 5:30 AM on Saturday. But first I went to The Red and The Black on H Street. Fun bar. I went because Beth was singing with a friend’s band and I am a good friend. So upon arriving home around 12:30 and falling asleep around 1:15, I got very little sleep on Friday night. I slept in 20 minute increments for the whole train ride to Jersey. And when I arrived I plunged immediately into doing stuff. Breakfast with cousins, shopping for rehearsal dinner dress (Victory! I’ll be looking fly.), lunch with aunt and cousins, more shopping, dinner and drinks at cousins’ house until late, going to bed at 1 AM. I basically was almost up for 24 hours. You know what I realized? I’m not 21 years old anymore and this is not college. This is real life and I need sleep. I got precisely eight hours before I had to get up and do other stuff. Plus there are puppies at my aunt’s house and they don’t like it when you sleep a lot. Cousins come over, we watch movie, order food, hang out until late, color my hair, and sleep once again. And now Monday rolls around and there is more shopping, more hanging with cousins, and NOT A LOT OF SLEEPING. And so, as sad as I was to leave everyone last night at 9:00 PM, I was damn happy to get on a train and sleep. Which isn’t out of the realm of reasonable expectations when your train is at 9:40 and it’s a Monday night, right?
So these boys. They must have been 6 and 7. And there was a baby. I don’t usually get mad at babies because they’re babies. They’re not trying to be jerks; they just do what they do. But THE BOYS. Totally within age to know appropriate sound level. And I didn’t understand why their mother was so blasé about the whole thing. Maybe once every 30 minutes she’d tell them to be quiet in the least quiet voice imaginable. And I didn’t get it. Because they were yelling. And I was trying to SLEEP. And they kept saying STUPID THINGS. Example, and I swear this is a direct quote, “I AM MEGATRON!” Look kid, you are NOT Megatron. And if you were, Amtrak would probably have issues letting you on their train, so shut up. One of them also had a really bad cough. The kind of cough that would make my mother wince and bundle me up in all kinds of clothing because you can’t let a kid with the beginnings of croup (yes, I know the difference between kinds of coughs, this is what happens when you’re a sick kid) be all cold! And this kid is running around the frigid train (why not heat, Amtrak?) in a t-shirt. So I didn’t have much faith in this woman’s parenting skills in general but then it happened. They finally got off the train in Wilmington and the mother stands up and I see she has ear buds in her ears. Let me repeat that in the tone in which I meant it. BITCH WAS LISTENING TO HER IPOD WHILE HER CHILDREN TERRORIZED THE TRAIN. AND IT WAS LOUD. I’d heard it before but I assumed it was another passenger trying to drown out those damn kids and I couldn’t blame them one little bit. BUT IT WAS THE MOTHER. No wonder she wasn’t enforcing volume control. SHE WAS JAMMING. The level of my fury was high enough that I caught her eye in order to say something to her, but then I remembered that I didn’t know enough about her life to give her the verbal dress down she deserved and chose instead to just be thankful these children were off the damn train.
Also, would you like to see cab drivers be SUPER NICE? Just catch a cab from Union Station at 1 AM. They are all about letting you share rides, giving you fair rates, and just being nice in general. It was lovely.
In other news, I am sorry for the lack of posting in my life lately. On Day Three of Snow of Doom, my computer screen died and I exist in a sad state these days. How did the Snow of Doom go you ask? LET ME TELL YOU.
I had my groceries delivered the Friday morning and it was maybe the best decision I’d made ever. I didn’t have to deal with the lines at the grocery store that friends compared to bread lines in Communist Russia. I also avoided the cold. And I cooked. A lot. Because when you’re inside in a snowstorm, there’s something about making homemade, warm food that is super appealing.
On Sunday, Allie decided it was time to play in the snow. On Thursday we’d gone to Target, where she procured a giant sea turtle pool float complete with handles. She promptly named him Slippy the Sea Turtle. He would be our sled. On Sunday morning, Allie announces that she’s sure the only way we’re going out there is if we are drunk. So at 10 AM she looks at me and tells me I need to catch up and start drinking. I could only drink a beer and a half since, as I stated earlier in this post, I am no longer 21 and I didn’t even have a morning football game to inspire the drinking. Allie did not allow this to stop her dreams and so she instructed me to take shots of bourbon. Which I did. And chased them with beer. Now that we’re good and wasted around 11:30, we walk down to our sedate lobby, with the five foot long sea turtle in tow, and charge out into the snow.
We picked a site where you didn’t really know we were there until you happened upon us. This made for awesome reactions when people saw two girls trying to sled down a not-steep-enough hill on a giant turtle. Somewhere along the line, Slippy suffered an injury and began to deflate. This resulted in Allie sitting forlornly on the ground, trying to blow Slippy back up, while yelling, “I hate you, Slippy!” There might be video and photographic proof of all of this, but we made a pact not to ever confirm, deny, or share any proof that these things happened.
I don’t really know what inspired this next part, but I turned around and saw an undisturbed snow bank that was probably two feet deep. I told Allie that if she waded to the middle of it, maybe Slippy would go. Now, this snow bank had no incline and was really just a bunch of snow. Nonetheless, Allie wades to the middle and kind of jumps onto Slippy into the snow. And nothing happened. Except a small snow-plosion. And then Allie saying that she couldn’t get up. Now I’m laughing and can’t stop and I’m telling her to roll over. When she finally got out we decided this adventure was probably over BUT THEN we happened upon a man we’d seen earlier with a camera. So clearly we approached him and asked if he wanted a picture of Slippy. I don’t know what was funnier, the fear in his eyes or the tone of his voice when he asked what a Slippy was. Sir, clearly we are referring to the giant, deflated turtle we are carrying.
And then we walked back through our apartment building with a deflated Slippy and deflated spirits. And Allie kept kicking Slippy and saying, “I hate you.”
That was the best part of the snowstorm I think. We also went boozing on Tuesday night just because we could, but nothing crazy happened. Mostly, I’m impressed that we were in the house for seven days and didn’t kill each other. Go us!
That’s all for now.
Except that I got home last night around 1:15 and didn’t fall asleep until 2:00 or so. So if I’m punchier than usual, don’t ask why. Now you know.
After receiving some crappy news at work that I’m not going to go into expect to say, “Grrrrr,” I stayed late, ran to dinner with Jenny, ran home, threw clothes in a suitcase for Jersey, then ran to Beth’s house where I was spending the night to be closer to Union Station. Because my train was leaving at 5:30 AM on Saturday. But first I went to The Red and The Black on H Street. Fun bar. I went because Beth was singing with a friend’s band and I am a good friend. So upon arriving home around 12:30 and falling asleep around 1:15, I got very little sleep on Friday night. I slept in 20 minute increments for the whole train ride to Jersey. And when I arrived I plunged immediately into doing stuff. Breakfast with cousins, shopping for rehearsal dinner dress (Victory! I’ll be looking fly.), lunch with aunt and cousins, more shopping, dinner and drinks at cousins’ house until late, going to bed at 1 AM. I basically was almost up for 24 hours. You know what I realized? I’m not 21 years old anymore and this is not college. This is real life and I need sleep. I got precisely eight hours before I had to get up and do other stuff. Plus there are puppies at my aunt’s house and they don’t like it when you sleep a lot. Cousins come over, we watch movie, order food, hang out until late, color my hair, and sleep once again. And now Monday rolls around and there is more shopping, more hanging with cousins, and NOT A LOT OF SLEEPING. And so, as sad as I was to leave everyone last night at 9:00 PM, I was damn happy to get on a train and sleep. Which isn’t out of the realm of reasonable expectations when your train is at 9:40 and it’s a Monday night, right?
So these boys. They must have been 6 and 7. And there was a baby. I don’t usually get mad at babies because they’re babies. They’re not trying to be jerks; they just do what they do. But THE BOYS. Totally within age to know appropriate sound level. And I didn’t understand why their mother was so blasé about the whole thing. Maybe once every 30 minutes she’d tell them to be quiet in the least quiet voice imaginable. And I didn’t get it. Because they were yelling. And I was trying to SLEEP. And they kept saying STUPID THINGS. Example, and I swear this is a direct quote, “I AM MEGATRON!” Look kid, you are NOT Megatron. And if you were, Amtrak would probably have issues letting you on their train, so shut up. One of them also had a really bad cough. The kind of cough that would make my mother wince and bundle me up in all kinds of clothing because you can’t let a kid with the beginnings of croup (yes, I know the difference between kinds of coughs, this is what happens when you’re a sick kid) be all cold! And this kid is running around the frigid train (why not heat, Amtrak?) in a t-shirt. So I didn’t have much faith in this woman’s parenting skills in general but then it happened. They finally got off the train in Wilmington and the mother stands up and I see she has ear buds in her ears. Let me repeat that in the tone in which I meant it. BITCH WAS LISTENING TO HER IPOD WHILE HER CHILDREN TERRORIZED THE TRAIN. AND IT WAS LOUD. I’d heard it before but I assumed it was another passenger trying to drown out those damn kids and I couldn’t blame them one little bit. BUT IT WAS THE MOTHER. No wonder she wasn’t enforcing volume control. SHE WAS JAMMING. The level of my fury was high enough that I caught her eye in order to say something to her, but then I remembered that I didn’t know enough about her life to give her the verbal dress down she deserved and chose instead to just be thankful these children were off the damn train.
Also, would you like to see cab drivers be SUPER NICE? Just catch a cab from Union Station at 1 AM. They are all about letting you share rides, giving you fair rates, and just being nice in general. It was lovely.
In other news, I am sorry for the lack of posting in my life lately. On Day Three of Snow of Doom, my computer screen died and I exist in a sad state these days. How did the Snow of Doom go you ask? LET ME TELL YOU.
I had my groceries delivered the Friday morning and it was maybe the best decision I’d made ever. I didn’t have to deal with the lines at the grocery store that friends compared to bread lines in Communist Russia. I also avoided the cold. And I cooked. A lot. Because when you’re inside in a snowstorm, there’s something about making homemade, warm food that is super appealing.
On Sunday, Allie decided it was time to play in the snow. On Thursday we’d gone to Target, where she procured a giant sea turtle pool float complete with handles. She promptly named him Slippy the Sea Turtle. He would be our sled. On Sunday morning, Allie announces that she’s sure the only way we’re going out there is if we are drunk. So at 10 AM she looks at me and tells me I need to catch up and start drinking. I could only drink a beer and a half since, as I stated earlier in this post, I am no longer 21 and I didn’t even have a morning football game to inspire the drinking. Allie did not allow this to stop her dreams and so she instructed me to take shots of bourbon. Which I did. And chased them with beer. Now that we’re good and wasted around 11:30, we walk down to our sedate lobby, with the five foot long sea turtle in tow, and charge out into the snow.
We picked a site where you didn’t really know we were there until you happened upon us. This made for awesome reactions when people saw two girls trying to sled down a not-steep-enough hill on a giant turtle. Somewhere along the line, Slippy suffered an injury and began to deflate. This resulted in Allie sitting forlornly on the ground, trying to blow Slippy back up, while yelling, “I hate you, Slippy!” There might be video and photographic proof of all of this, but we made a pact not to ever confirm, deny, or share any proof that these things happened.
I don’t really know what inspired this next part, but I turned around and saw an undisturbed snow bank that was probably two feet deep. I told Allie that if she waded to the middle of it, maybe Slippy would go. Now, this snow bank had no incline and was really just a bunch of snow. Nonetheless, Allie wades to the middle and kind of jumps onto Slippy into the snow. And nothing happened. Except a small snow-plosion. And then Allie saying that she couldn’t get up. Now I’m laughing and can’t stop and I’m telling her to roll over. When she finally got out we decided this adventure was probably over BUT THEN we happened upon a man we’d seen earlier with a camera. So clearly we approached him and asked if he wanted a picture of Slippy. I don’t know what was funnier, the fear in his eyes or the tone of his voice when he asked what a Slippy was. Sir, clearly we are referring to the giant, deflated turtle we are carrying.
And then we walked back through our apartment building with a deflated Slippy and deflated spirits. And Allie kept kicking Slippy and saying, “I hate you.”
That was the best part of the snowstorm I think. We also went boozing on Tuesday night just because we could, but nothing crazy happened. Mostly, I’m impressed that we were in the house for seven days and didn’t kill each other. Go us!
That’s all for now.
Except that I got home last night around 1:15 and didn’t fall asleep until 2:00 or so. So if I’m punchier than usual, don’t ask why. Now you know.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Happy New Year!
Wow. I was doing SO WELL with the posting and then Christmas came and ate my life. And then New Year’s Eve involved me crying in a bathtub. It’s still unclear while we (yes, we, I had company) chose the bathtub, but I don’t make excuses for my ridiculous behavior. I just own it. Huzzah!
So in honor of the first post of 2010, I’ll say that this year hasn’t sucked so far. Yay! Actually, if I look at where I was a year ago and where I am today, life has improved significantly.
Last year on January 28, 2009 (courtesy of the fact that gmail never makes me delete anything! Love you gmail!):
Meghan turned 25. Today she is 26. Happy Birthday Meghan!
I was complaining about the end of my awful job.
I admitted to being “Pathetic Sarah” for the week. (I don’t really know what this means. Probably that I’m just a drama queen. Like you didn’t already know that!)
I was two days away from being unemployed.
I had just broken up with the guy and it would be months before I admitted it bothered me (tip: ignoring your emotions isn’t healthy, not like I don’t ignore them now, but at least I recognize that it’s not healthy. Yay personal growth!)
I was a generally unhappy person.
This year on January 28, 2010 (courtesy of my ability to look around me):
I have a job that I love and work with people I like a lot
I’ve continued to meet new, awesome people in this cool city. Some of the people I knew last year I’ve phased out, others have become really close friends, and the new people get better every day.
I don’t have stress dreams about work anymore! Yay! Now when I have dreams about work, they involve silly things that happen during the day. Much better quality of life.
OK. That’s enough of the positivity (MS Word just told me that’s not a word, I don’t care enough to change it). I know that’s not why you guys come here. You guys come here for my sarcasm. And now you come here to read things I think are hilarious:
The funniest thing I've read in a LONG time.
That link above, it’s for a blog I read and list on my blogroll. I wish I could be as funny as she is. But that’s my cross to bear, not yours. Even though the entry is long, it is WELL WORTH reading. Even thinking about it gets me giggling again.
Let’s see. What else?
- iPad is officially the silliest thing I’ve seen. It’s like a giant iPod Touch. I mean, it’s COOL. But I don’t feel like it’s going to replace laptops. Maybe it’s just me, maybe I’m out of touch. I also don’t get netbooks and they’re sweeping the nation.
- I got an invitation to a baby shower for a friend of mine. I’m 23 years old. I feel like I’m too young for this to happen to me. And it’s not even an oops baby. She is married. Has been for several years. And now they’re having a baby. This is weird.
- There comes a point every winter where I announce that I’m done with the season. That happened yesterday. At about 5:30 PM. And I wished for Tampa. So there’s that.
- I didn’t watch the State of the Union. Let’s be honest, not even the hilarious drinking game circling the world could get me to watch that. You know people are going to yell at each other, you know people are going to shake their heads, and frankly, for that kind of behavior, I’d much rather watch a game. Luckily, FSU was playing Duke! Really though, I stopped watched the SotU years ago. I just read the speech in the following days. Some of my more liberal-minded friends were getting on me saying things like, “I used to watch W, you should watch Obama!” Sorry kids, it doesn’t count when you only used to watch him to see how you could mock him next, besides, I didn’t even watch W. I told you, the SotU isn’t a good television thing. I think mostly it bothers people that I don’t love Obama and they usually ignore it until something like this comes up where deliberate action shows my dislike for him. Oh well!
- I was talking to a friend recently about how he knows when he “really likes” a girl and isn’t just passing the time and it made me think, “How do I really know when I like a guy?” Answer: I don’t! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t “really liked” anyone in such a long time that I think the signs I used to watch for aren’t relevant anymore because it’s been that long. Isn’t that sad?
- After a lifetime of not really caring (because you can only care about so much at one time), I think I’ve become anti-strip club. I mean, I don’t think it makes you a bad person to go to strip clubs, I’ve been before. But if you’re in a relationship, you have no business being there. Either of you. At least not if you’re with me. I think I really don’t like the double standard. Like, if a guy goes to a strip club, his girlfriend shouldn’t care because lap dances don’t mean anything. But if a girl goes to a club and dances with a guy while fully clothed, it’s not ok. There’s just a disconnect there that recent events brought to light and have impacted me. I’m more surprised than anyone.
- Tim Tebow has annoyed me for some time, but seriously, he’s begun to PISS ME OFF. It has nothing to do with his free speech rights. You’re right. He can sit on tv and talk about whatever he wants. That’s more than within his right to free speech. But it’s the message he’s sending. Sadly, he’s influential, and young boys will watch and think, “Well, if Tebow says so, then it’s probably true.” And that’s JUST what we need, another generation of boys thinking they can tell a woman what to do with her body. So kudos Focus on the Family and Tim Tebow. Way to perpetuate this ridiculous fight my gender has to have with the government so that I can decide what happens in my uterus. SUPER HAPPY about that. And now Sarah Palin is chiming in. Ugh. We all know HOW MUCH I LOVE HER! Actually, you don’t. That’s one of the serious posts I keep putting off but basically it will be titled, “Sarah Palin: Why I consider setting up my own non-crazy country from time to time.”
That’s all.
So in honor of the first post of 2010, I’ll say that this year hasn’t sucked so far. Yay! Actually, if I look at where I was a year ago and where I am today, life has improved significantly.
Last year on January 28, 2009 (courtesy of the fact that gmail never makes me delete anything! Love you gmail!):
Meghan turned 25. Today she is 26. Happy Birthday Meghan!
I was complaining about the end of my awful job.
I admitted to being “Pathetic Sarah” for the week. (I don’t really know what this means. Probably that I’m just a drama queen. Like you didn’t already know that!)
I was two days away from being unemployed.
I had just broken up with the guy and it would be months before I admitted it bothered me (tip: ignoring your emotions isn’t healthy, not like I don’t ignore them now, but at least I recognize that it’s not healthy. Yay personal growth!)
I was a generally unhappy person.
This year on January 28, 2010 (courtesy of my ability to look around me):
I have a job that I love and work with people I like a lot
I’ve continued to meet new, awesome people in this cool city. Some of the people I knew last year I’ve phased out, others have become really close friends, and the new people get better every day.
I don’t have stress dreams about work anymore! Yay! Now when I have dreams about work, they involve silly things that happen during the day. Much better quality of life.
OK. That’s enough of the positivity (MS Word just told me that’s not a word, I don’t care enough to change it). I know that’s not why you guys come here. You guys come here for my sarcasm. And now you come here to read things I think are hilarious:
The funniest thing I've read in a LONG time.
That link above, it’s for a blog I read and list on my blogroll. I wish I could be as funny as she is. But that’s my cross to bear, not yours. Even though the entry is long, it is WELL WORTH reading. Even thinking about it gets me giggling again.
Let’s see. What else?
- iPad is officially the silliest thing I’ve seen. It’s like a giant iPod Touch. I mean, it’s COOL. But I don’t feel like it’s going to replace laptops. Maybe it’s just me, maybe I’m out of touch. I also don’t get netbooks and they’re sweeping the nation.
- I got an invitation to a baby shower for a friend of mine. I’m 23 years old. I feel like I’m too young for this to happen to me. And it’s not even an oops baby. She is married. Has been for several years. And now they’re having a baby. This is weird.
- There comes a point every winter where I announce that I’m done with the season. That happened yesterday. At about 5:30 PM. And I wished for Tampa. So there’s that.
- I didn’t watch the State of the Union. Let’s be honest, not even the hilarious drinking game circling the world could get me to watch that. You know people are going to yell at each other, you know people are going to shake their heads, and frankly, for that kind of behavior, I’d much rather watch a game. Luckily, FSU was playing Duke! Really though, I stopped watched the SotU years ago. I just read the speech in the following days. Some of my more liberal-minded friends were getting on me saying things like, “I used to watch W, you should watch Obama!” Sorry kids, it doesn’t count when you only used to watch him to see how you could mock him next, besides, I didn’t even watch W. I told you, the SotU isn’t a good television thing. I think mostly it bothers people that I don’t love Obama and they usually ignore it until something like this comes up where deliberate action shows my dislike for him. Oh well!
- I was talking to a friend recently about how he knows when he “really likes” a girl and isn’t just passing the time and it made me think, “How do I really know when I like a guy?” Answer: I don’t! Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t “really liked” anyone in such a long time that I think the signs I used to watch for aren’t relevant anymore because it’s been that long. Isn’t that sad?
- After a lifetime of not really caring (because you can only care about so much at one time), I think I’ve become anti-strip club. I mean, I don’t think it makes you a bad person to go to strip clubs, I’ve been before. But if you’re in a relationship, you have no business being there. Either of you. At least not if you’re with me. I think I really don’t like the double standard. Like, if a guy goes to a strip club, his girlfriend shouldn’t care because lap dances don’t mean anything. But if a girl goes to a club and dances with a guy while fully clothed, it’s not ok. There’s just a disconnect there that recent events brought to light and have impacted me. I’m more surprised than anyone.
- Tim Tebow has annoyed me for some time, but seriously, he’s begun to PISS ME OFF. It has nothing to do with his free speech rights. You’re right. He can sit on tv and talk about whatever he wants. That’s more than within his right to free speech. But it’s the message he’s sending. Sadly, he’s influential, and young boys will watch and think, “Well, if Tebow says so, then it’s probably true.” And that’s JUST what we need, another generation of boys thinking they can tell a woman what to do with her body. So kudos Focus on the Family and Tim Tebow. Way to perpetuate this ridiculous fight my gender has to have with the government so that I can decide what happens in my uterus. SUPER HAPPY about that. And now Sarah Palin is chiming in. Ugh. We all know HOW MUCH I LOVE HER! Actually, you don’t. That’s one of the serious posts I keep putting off but basically it will be titled, “Sarah Palin: Why I consider setting up my own non-crazy country from time to time.”
That’s all.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Maybe I'm just jealous of her hot (underaged) boyfriend...we'll never really know
There is a channel we get in my apartment and it’s called something like “Palladia”. It’s all very unclear, but it plays concerts, performances, etc. Sometimes you get super lucky and get to watch Celine Dion smack herself in the chest in Vegas, other times you get Coldplay and their monotone, sleep inducing music, but SOMETIMES…you get the MTV VMAs and get to watch the Kanye and Taylor debacle over again. I got lucky last night, you guys. And now:
Things I Noticed This Time Around That I Missed Due To The Shock:
1. Taylor Lautner is presenting the award to his girlfriend! And at the time, I don’t know how long they’d been dating, but can we say awkward? Also, she hugs him and he almost recoils from her touch, the whole thing makes me want to be anywhere but watching these two interact. After all, she’s all atwitter over her award and he’s nervous that something will happen and she’ll write a song about it and use his name. And in MERE MOMENTS, a crazy man will ruin her speech.
2. Taylor Swift just kind of hands the microphone to Kanye. Were I accepting an award on national television and a crazy man with awful hair and indoor sunglasses approached me for my microphone, I might kick him, I might punch him, but I would not hand over my microphone.
3. Where does Taylor think she is? The Grammys? WHAT IS SHE WEARING? It’s pretty, but these are the VMAs, you don’t wear long, glittering gowns. Look around you, darling. Who styled you? Fire them. There is a time for the gown you are wearing. It is not right now.
In other Taylor news…
Before arriving home yesterday, I was listening to a lot of Carrie Underwood to get in the mood for her Christmas special (shut your mouth). If you’ve ever listened to a lot of Carrie Underwood at once (and I will assume all of you have), you know that she can get kind of heavy after a while and you need something lighter to balance. I chose Taylor, because if ever there was a lighter balance, it is Taylor Swift. Even her “serious” songs are light, or at least they are to me, because I’m not fifteen, in high school, and lusting after seniors. ANYWAY, I love Taylor, but I was listening to “Fifteen” and “You Belong To Me” yesterday and I had some thoughts. What better place to share my thoughts than here…with all of you…
'Cause when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love youYou're gonna believe them
This is supposed to evoke an “aw, puppy love” response, but let us pause and reflect. Why do you believe them? When I was fifteen, I think I would have believed the sky would be green tomorrow before I believed that some guy loved me. Seriously. It’s high school. I’m not saying it can’t happen, but I’m saying that if you’re gullible to just believe whatever the guy you’re dating is saying to you, you have some personal growing to do.
And your momma's waiting up and you're thinking he's the one
You are FIFTEEN. How late are you out? Why is your mom “waiting up”? Is your dad not waiting up too? Because mine would be, with his shotgun by his side. Because I am FIFTEEN in this story. Did no one else have strict parents who would have laughed if you said, “Sooo, this 18 year old guy picking me up and we’ll be back around 11:30”? I did. And thank goodness for it.
But in your life you'll do things greater than
Dating the boy on the football team
But I didn't know it at fifteen
Really, Taylor. You didn’t know that at fifteen? If your biggest ambition in life at fifteen was dating the boy on the football team, I don’t think we can be friends.
Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday
OMG. Stop. Just stop.
But I realized some bigger dreams of mine
Just in time because…
And Abigail gave everything she had to a boy
Who changed his mind and we both cried
And we all know, once a girl is not a virgin anymore, she has nothing left to give.
GREAT LIFE LESSONS.
Clearly, the song is catchy and I sing along to every word, but geeze. I’m not worried about the effect this has on my own psyche, I’m pretty well-formed in my opinions by now. But is this what has happened to fifteen year old girls? I don’t think so. I know some fifteen year old girls and they are sharper than this tomfoolery. I don’t think I was an atypical teenager. Or am I wrong? Did you girls all think you were in LOVE in high school? I just don’t understand how this song is as relatable as her record sales indicate.
Now, I have two younger brothers. They’re 22 and hilarious. Last year, one of them saw the movie, “He’s Just Not That Into You” and proclaimed that every girl should have to watch it at least five times a year, every year, from the time she is 9 until forever. I thought it was a stupid movie, but in general it tried to portray the idea that if someone likes you, then they will make it happen, if they don’t make it happen, then they probably don’t dig you and your stuff. Clearly, Taylor has never seen this movie, or if she did, she missed the lesson in its entirety. Let us turn our hymnals to the song “You Belong With Me” and see what I mean:
You're on the phone with your girlfriend,
She's upset
She's going off about something that you said
She doesn’t get your humor like I do
I'm in the room, its a typical Tuesday night
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like
And she'll never know your story like I do
These first two verses make me think a couple of things. Taylor, how do you know what they’re arguing about? Creepy McCreeperson.
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me You belong with me
Taylor. He knows. Or rather, he knows that you like him. Because if you’re writing this song, I can only imagine how you interact with him in person. And boys play a good game of pretending they don’t know, but they do. We’ve all been there, sweetie. You’re friends with someone, you become better friends, and you develop a massive crush on them. It’s normal. And usually, it passes, so resist the urge to write a song and give it a few weeks. It’s what happens when attractive young people are put into situations together. But really, he is your friend. It’s fun to idealize a possible relationship, but how long do you think things will remain like this if you date:
Walkin the streets with you in your worn out jeans
I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on the park bench thinkin to myself
Hey isn’t this easy?
Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry
I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams
I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me.
Here’s a hint: Things will change. Why? Because we have different expectations for our friends and our significant others (or at least you should). The same behaviors you find quirky and adorable in a friend quickly become things you hate in a SO. There isn’t a guy or girl out there, myself included, who hasn’t looked at a good friend and thought about it, but you don’t actually make it happen. Learn to have a platonic relationship with a boy. There, more personal growth homework for you. Also, why is he about to cry? Are you secretly dating Tim Tebow and Taylor Lautner? Lautner deserves so much better than that.
Hey, Whatcha doing with a girl like that?
We all know what he’s doing with a girl like that, and so do you. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers
Take some pointers from her here, please. Thanks.
Standin’ by, waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that?
Don’t wait by his back door. You are increasing the level of creepy and no one wants that. You know who else skulked around back doors? Ted Bundy. Not a good role model. At. All.
Interestingly, I still like Taylor Swift. I feel like she has other redeeming qualities and I do genuinely enjoy the music (even if I have to ignore large parts of my belief systems when I listen to it). I toyed with the idea of not posting this, but I went through all the effort of italicizing stuff…I’ll try to post something nicer this week (unlikely).
Things I Noticed This Time Around That I Missed Due To The Shock:
1. Taylor Lautner is presenting the award to his girlfriend! And at the time, I don’t know how long they’d been dating, but can we say awkward? Also, she hugs him and he almost recoils from her touch, the whole thing makes me want to be anywhere but watching these two interact. After all, she’s all atwitter over her award and he’s nervous that something will happen and she’ll write a song about it and use his name. And in MERE MOMENTS, a crazy man will ruin her speech.
2. Taylor Swift just kind of hands the microphone to Kanye. Were I accepting an award on national television and a crazy man with awful hair and indoor sunglasses approached me for my microphone, I might kick him, I might punch him, but I would not hand over my microphone.
3. Where does Taylor think she is? The Grammys? WHAT IS SHE WEARING? It’s pretty, but these are the VMAs, you don’t wear long, glittering gowns. Look around you, darling. Who styled you? Fire them. There is a time for the gown you are wearing. It is not right now.
In other Taylor news…
Before arriving home yesterday, I was listening to a lot of Carrie Underwood to get in the mood for her Christmas special (shut your mouth). If you’ve ever listened to a lot of Carrie Underwood at once (and I will assume all of you have), you know that she can get kind of heavy after a while and you need something lighter to balance. I chose Taylor, because if ever there was a lighter balance, it is Taylor Swift. Even her “serious” songs are light, or at least they are to me, because I’m not fifteen, in high school, and lusting after seniors. ANYWAY, I love Taylor, but I was listening to “Fifteen” and “You Belong To Me” yesterday and I had some thoughts. What better place to share my thoughts than here…with all of you…
'Cause when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love youYou're gonna believe them
This is supposed to evoke an “aw, puppy love” response, but let us pause and reflect. Why do you believe them? When I was fifteen, I think I would have believed the sky would be green tomorrow before I believed that some guy loved me. Seriously. It’s high school. I’m not saying it can’t happen, but I’m saying that if you’re gullible to just believe whatever the guy you’re dating is saying to you, you have some personal growing to do.
And your momma's waiting up and you're thinking he's the one
You are FIFTEEN. How late are you out? Why is your mom “waiting up”? Is your dad not waiting up too? Because mine would be, with his shotgun by his side. Because I am FIFTEEN in this story. Did no one else have strict parents who would have laughed if you said, “Sooo, this 18 year old guy picking me up and we’ll be back around 11:30”? I did. And thank goodness for it.
But in your life you'll do things greater than
Dating the boy on the football team
But I didn't know it at fifteen
Really, Taylor. You didn’t know that at fifteen? If your biggest ambition in life at fifteen was dating the boy on the football team, I don’t think we can be friends.
Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday
OMG. Stop. Just stop.
But I realized some bigger dreams of mine
Just in time because…
And Abigail gave everything she had to a boy
Who changed his mind and we both cried
And we all know, once a girl is not a virgin anymore, she has nothing left to give.
GREAT LIFE LESSONS.
Clearly, the song is catchy and I sing along to every word, but geeze. I’m not worried about the effect this has on my own psyche, I’m pretty well-formed in my opinions by now. But is this what has happened to fifteen year old girls? I don’t think so. I know some fifteen year old girls and they are sharper than this tomfoolery. I don’t think I was an atypical teenager. Or am I wrong? Did you girls all think you were in LOVE in high school? I just don’t understand how this song is as relatable as her record sales indicate.
Now, I have two younger brothers. They’re 22 and hilarious. Last year, one of them saw the movie, “He’s Just Not That Into You” and proclaimed that every girl should have to watch it at least five times a year, every year, from the time she is 9 until forever. I thought it was a stupid movie, but in general it tried to portray the idea that if someone likes you, then they will make it happen, if they don’t make it happen, then they probably don’t dig you and your stuff. Clearly, Taylor has never seen this movie, or if she did, she missed the lesson in its entirety. Let us turn our hymnals to the song “You Belong With Me” and see what I mean:
You're on the phone with your girlfriend,
She's upset
She's going off about something that you said
She doesn’t get your humor like I do
I'm in the room, its a typical Tuesday night
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like
And she'll never know your story like I do
These first two verses make me think a couple of things. Taylor, how do you know what they’re arguing about? Creepy McCreeperson.
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me You belong with me
Taylor. He knows. Or rather, he knows that you like him. Because if you’re writing this song, I can only imagine how you interact with him in person. And boys play a good game of pretending they don’t know, but they do. We’ve all been there, sweetie. You’re friends with someone, you become better friends, and you develop a massive crush on them. It’s normal. And usually, it passes, so resist the urge to write a song and give it a few weeks. It’s what happens when attractive young people are put into situations together. But really, he is your friend. It’s fun to idealize a possible relationship, but how long do you think things will remain like this if you date:
Walkin the streets with you in your worn out jeans
I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on the park bench thinkin to myself
Hey isn’t this easy?
Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry
I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams
I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me.
Here’s a hint: Things will change. Why? Because we have different expectations for our friends and our significant others (or at least you should). The same behaviors you find quirky and adorable in a friend quickly become things you hate in a SO. There isn’t a guy or girl out there, myself included, who hasn’t looked at a good friend and thought about it, but you don’t actually make it happen. Learn to have a platonic relationship with a boy. There, more personal growth homework for you. Also, why is he about to cry? Are you secretly dating Tim Tebow and Taylor Lautner? Lautner deserves so much better than that.
Hey, Whatcha doing with a girl like that?
We all know what he’s doing with a girl like that, and so do you. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers
Take some pointers from her here, please. Thanks.
Standin’ by, waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that?
Don’t wait by his back door. You are increasing the level of creepy and no one wants that. You know who else skulked around back doors? Ted Bundy. Not a good role model. At. All.
Interestingly, I still like Taylor Swift. I feel like she has other redeeming qualities and I do genuinely enjoy the music (even if I have to ignore large parts of my belief systems when I listen to it). I toyed with the idea of not posting this, but I went through all the effort of italicizing stuff…I’ll try to post something nicer this week (unlikely).
Monday, December 7, 2009
FDR was right...it lives in infamy...
It’s Pearl Harbor day, ladies and gentlemen. This is going to sound weird, but I really like Pearl Harbor day. I absolutely regret that Pearl Harbor had to happen, that 2,200 people died today 68 years ago, and that so many are still trapped inside the tomb that the Arizona has become. But Pearl Harbor was a wake up call. I think we all have our own views on the US intervening in the affairs of other countries, but if ever there was a time to be meddlesome, it was in the forties in Germany, Japan, the Pacific, etc. In a lot of ways, Pearl Harbor was the 9/11 of a generation. People all across the country enlisted the next day not knowing what the government’s plan for the war was, really. And years later, some of them got to come home, knowing that they had helped stop awful things from happening to innocent people. So maybe it’s weird to think about today as hopeful, and maybe it’s naïve of me to believe that the wars we’re in now can be resolved with finality like wars of the past. But even as the world gets smaller and the politics get more complicated, part of me hangs on to the idea that we’ll find a way to make it better. And with that here’s an article about a Pearl Harbor vet going back for the first time today and my favorite part of the FDR Infamy Speech:
Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us.
No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.
I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again.
Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.
With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God.
I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.
Serous time is over. So I had a nice weekend of calm. I had dinner with an old friend (I’ve known her for nearly FIFTEEN years, which is insane) in town for grad school stuff and it was absolutely lovely to see her. We caught up on life, boys, school, family, etc. Sometimes it is just so nice to have that little piece of “home” pop up in your life. Her friends were super nice too, which is always a plus. Except one of them tried to convince me I was dressed appropriately for the K Street Lounge. Excuse me sir, I have on UGGS, do not let the big earrings fool you, this is not lounge-apparel. And do not try to convince me it’s fine as if I don’t live here and know very well what is not acceptable.
Other than that I watch a lot of movies, which was the plan. After last weekend, I just wanted to hang out on my couch, sleep a lot, and watch the Harry Potter marathon on ABC Family. (I know, I know. Sarah, why don’t you own the movies. I am WAITING people, for ALL of them. I want to buy the obnoxious box set that will surely be released with all kinds of delicious movie extras. I live for the extras on DVDs.) And watch Harry Potter I did. A lot of Harry Potter. I haven’t watched the old movies in quite a while so I was able to appreciate, yet again, how magnificently Rowling gave us little pieces of information that seemed so unimportant at the time that turned out to be HUGE.
The other thing that happened on Saturday…well, Internet, I don’t know if you know, but Alabama kicked the Gators’ asses and told their mommas about it on Saturday. The game was nice to watch. I sometimes like to watch football alone. I can focus, I can yell without judgment, and I can do little celebration dances without feeling like I’m rubbing salt into my Gator roommate’s wounds (hey, Allie!). And I was happy that Alabama had beaten them so soundly when IT happened. In case you don’t know, Tim Tebow cries when he loses. Now to be fair, this was the second time in two years that he’s lost a game, so I’m only going on a very small sample of information, but it’s true he cries. It would be one thing if he hadn’t cried after the Ole Miss game last year, because truly, it wasn’t a season-ending game. Crying was a little much. Or, had he just shed a few tears, or been a little choked up for this game, because the SEC championship is arguably a big deal, that would have been acceptable. But the open crying. I’m all for boys expressing emotion and crying if they need to, but for goodness’s sake, don’t do it on national television. For one, I’ve spoken about girls crying in public here before, and the same rules apply to boys, because crying, for the most part, is a private activity! And two, I just feel so AWKWARD when he cries. I don’t know where to look, what to do, how to react. And you know, it makes the Gator loss a little less satisfactory because he is crying and now parts of my FEEL BAD. You know what I don’t like? Feeling bad for Gators. So,you there, Tim Tebow. Stop your crying. Your ridiculous eye black now just looks like mascara running (shoutout to Beth for that line) all down your face. And all I can think to do is give you some make up remover and a kick in the ass.
And now, Sunday, you guys. Do you know what was happening on TNT this Sunday? The played ALL THREE Lord of the Rings movies, back to back. I missed the first one, I got up to late. But I surely did watch the second and third ones as my secondary channel all day. I really like Lord of the Rings. In fact, Allie has not seen any of the films so she would ask little questions here and there. That’s cool, because you know what I LOVE to talk about? Lord of the Rings. I know. I’m not really ashamed of it either because it’s just so damn cool. Tolkien created a WORLD, you guys (he really created more than one, but we’ll stick with Middle Earth). With languages. And cultures. And history. And politics. Anyway, my favorite question from Allie over the course of the day was:
Allie: Why can’t he just build a fire in his backyard and melt that ring there?
Anyway, the point of my story is that I will be rewatching Lord of the Rings this holiday season. All three. On DVD, not on TV. There’s just something about them that says, “Christmas.” It’s probably because they came out on Christmas day for three years. So part of enjoying Christmastime this year will be watching Lord of the Rings. If you want in, let me know, we’ll make a thing of it.
Finally, I have a friend who is doing this on her little piece of the Internet. I don’t know if I believe in things like The Secret or Abraham-Hicks or The Laws of Attraction, but I DO know that her gratitude lists in the morning are a good way to get centered every morning. And today, I actually have a little list of my own:
Things that don’t suck I am grateful for:
1. The view of DC in the morning on the metro bridge from Pentagon to L’Enfant
2. The coat that keeps me warm on cold mornings
3. Seeing my family for Christmas
4. Liking my family enough to want to see them for Christmas
5. A job with work I like and people I like
Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us.
No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.
I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again.
Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.
With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God.
I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.
Serous time is over. So I had a nice weekend of calm. I had dinner with an old friend (I’ve known her for nearly FIFTEEN years, which is insane) in town for grad school stuff and it was absolutely lovely to see her. We caught up on life, boys, school, family, etc. Sometimes it is just so nice to have that little piece of “home” pop up in your life. Her friends were super nice too, which is always a plus. Except one of them tried to convince me I was dressed appropriately for the K Street Lounge. Excuse me sir, I have on UGGS, do not let the big earrings fool you, this is not lounge-apparel. And do not try to convince me it’s fine as if I don’t live here and know very well what is not acceptable.
Other than that I watch a lot of movies, which was the plan. After last weekend, I just wanted to hang out on my couch, sleep a lot, and watch the Harry Potter marathon on ABC Family. (I know, I know. Sarah, why don’t you own the movies. I am WAITING people, for ALL of them. I want to buy the obnoxious box set that will surely be released with all kinds of delicious movie extras. I live for the extras on DVDs.) And watch Harry Potter I did. A lot of Harry Potter. I haven’t watched the old movies in quite a while so I was able to appreciate, yet again, how magnificently Rowling gave us little pieces of information that seemed so unimportant at the time that turned out to be HUGE.
The other thing that happened on Saturday…well, Internet, I don’t know if you know, but Alabama kicked the Gators’ asses and told their mommas about it on Saturday. The game was nice to watch. I sometimes like to watch football alone. I can focus, I can yell without judgment, and I can do little celebration dances without feeling like I’m rubbing salt into my Gator roommate’s wounds (hey, Allie!). And I was happy that Alabama had beaten them so soundly when IT happened. In case you don’t know, Tim Tebow cries when he loses. Now to be fair, this was the second time in two years that he’s lost a game, so I’m only going on a very small sample of information, but it’s true he cries. It would be one thing if he hadn’t cried after the Ole Miss game last year, because truly, it wasn’t a season-ending game. Crying was a little much. Or, had he just shed a few tears, or been a little choked up for this game, because the SEC championship is arguably a big deal, that would have been acceptable. But the open crying. I’m all for boys expressing emotion and crying if they need to, but for goodness’s sake, don’t do it on national television. For one, I’ve spoken about girls crying in public here before, and the same rules apply to boys, because crying, for the most part, is a private activity! And two, I just feel so AWKWARD when he cries. I don’t know where to look, what to do, how to react. And you know, it makes the Gator loss a little less satisfactory because he is crying and now parts of my FEEL BAD. You know what I don’t like? Feeling bad for Gators. So,you there, Tim Tebow. Stop your crying. Your ridiculous eye black now just looks like mascara running (shoutout to Beth for that line) all down your face. And all I can think to do is give you some make up remover and a kick in the ass.
And now, Sunday, you guys. Do you know what was happening on TNT this Sunday? The played ALL THREE Lord of the Rings movies, back to back. I missed the first one, I got up to late. But I surely did watch the second and third ones as my secondary channel all day. I really like Lord of the Rings. In fact, Allie has not seen any of the films so she would ask little questions here and there. That’s cool, because you know what I LOVE to talk about? Lord of the Rings. I know. I’m not really ashamed of it either because it’s just so damn cool. Tolkien created a WORLD, you guys (he really created more than one, but we’ll stick with Middle Earth). With languages. And cultures. And history. And politics. Anyway, my favorite question from Allie over the course of the day was:
Allie: Why can’t he just build a fire in his backyard and melt that ring there?
Anyway, the point of my story is that I will be rewatching Lord of the Rings this holiday season. All three. On DVD, not on TV. There’s just something about them that says, “Christmas.” It’s probably because they came out on Christmas day for three years. So part of enjoying Christmastime this year will be watching Lord of the Rings. If you want in, let me know, we’ll make a thing of it.
Finally, I have a friend who is doing this on her little piece of the Internet. I don’t know if I believe in things like The Secret or Abraham-Hicks or The Laws of Attraction, but I DO know that her gratitude lists in the morning are a good way to get centered every morning. And today, I actually have a little list of my own:
Things that don’t suck I am grateful for:
1. The view of DC in the morning on the metro bridge from Pentagon to L’Enfant
2. The coat that keeps me warm on cold mornings
3. Seeing my family for Christmas
4. Liking my family enough to want to see them for Christmas
5. A job with work I like and people I like
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