Since Thanksgiving is over, and Hanukkah is almost over, that means it’s time to go balls out for Christmas, right?
My only real connection Christmas, besides an undying love for “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey, is the giving and getting of presents.
I’ve blogged about my dilemma of “What do I want for Christmas,” years previously, highlighting how what I ask for for Christmas always serves as a good age tracker.
Early in life you get toys, a few years later you get the toy you begged for and HAD TO HAVE, then it’s clothes you want or don’t want, random knick knacks come into the equation a few years after that, and then maybe you’ll get a surprise Playstation 2 because it also serves as a DVD player and your parents DVD player just broke.
Santa is a sneaky bastard.
Last year, my parents took me to Austria for Christmas, so though nothing can top that, I’ve spent most of November emailing and texting my mother things I want this year.
Don’t worry, I also sometimes as her how she’s doing. Or what she’s making for dinner.
The list so far has included curtains for my bedroom windows, a comforter, the Magic Bullet blender thing, headphones, a juicer, and a humidifier.
Yes, I asked for a humidifier and I have no regrets. The air in my room is dry as fuck and something needs to be done about it.
The answer I gave my sister when she asked what I wanted from her may lead you to believe that I am a 15 year old boy:
“Uh, I don’t know, comfy socks and bulls stuff?”
|Leave a comment|
The Holidays are coming up, and with them comes all sorts of traditions.
Maybe you’re looking forward to reverting back to childhood and having your parents wait on you hand and foot. Maybe you’re not looking forward to seeing that grandparent that tells you the same story they told you last year, and the year before that, and the year before that.
I myself am very much looking forward to making the 15 minute trip to my parents house and being served equal parts delicious food, red wine, and gin & tonics. I really can’t think of anything I’m more thankful for than being able to have a ridiculously low maintenance Thanksgiving. Life is kind of rough for a 25 year old, you know?
It would also be nice if I found a salaried job in childcare with full health benefits, paid sick days and two weeks of vacation. That, I would be super duper thankful for.
Ok, I am also ridiculously thankful for my best friends. Where would I be without them? I literally have no idea. Why haven’t we murdered or gotten extremely sick of each other after 10+ years? I literally have no idea. Having people in your life who know you inside and out and will always be there for you, there ain’t nothin’ better.
And even though this past year, and let’s be honest the year before that, have had some tremendous ups and downs, I’ve also gotten to do a lot of soul searching. Finding out I want to make a career out of working with kids was a pretty huge relief, and getting to work with kids on a daily basis is a big reason why I spend more time laughing than crying.
I still don’t exercise as much as I should but, hey, baby steps.
And most of all I want to say THANKS! to you, reading this unbelievably sappy post. I hope it doesn’t throw you off to much to learn that I have feelings.
Since I am already overly attached to my phone, I’ve found I can also use it as the ultimate shopping tool. With apps like HauteLook, Groupon, Etsy, etc.. you can get clothes, jewelry and whatever else you kinda maybe don’t need without ever venturing out into the real world of shopping.
Let’s take a moment to be thankful for this modern day miracle. It is Thanksgiving next week, after all. (WHAT)
Though the ordering of new things for my feet, body and face are ridiculously easy, getting them in the mail is not. Since I, naturally, only order things I cannot live without, this waiting game is not something I appreciate.
I mean, I’m not crazy. I realize that the items I fall in love with on screen will take about a week to physically manifest themselves into my life, but any more time than that is just ridiculous.
Let’s take the boots I ordered on Halloween for example. They were my first purchase from HauteLook and they were some of the most marvelous buckle boots to come out of the online shopping world. At only $25 I had to have them. Almost a month later, and I’m still waiting. Now the boots have cost me $25 and my mental capacity for the month of November.
This blog should also be sent out as a disclaimer to my neighbors. They’re all probably wondering why I yell, “Noooooo!” every time I come home and there isn’t a package waiting there for me.
Besides these life altering boots, I am also waiting on a Bulls beanie I ordered I don’t even know how long ago, make-up brushes, lipstick, and a pair of flats.
Like I said, I only shop for the essentials.
The real kicker, though, is that I’ve received emails from HauteLook telling me that my beloved buckle boots should have been delivered on 11/16. And then that my make-up brushes should have come on the same day! And then that my flats were supposed to arrive 11/18!
What is this world coming to!?
Where is my shit!?
|Leave a comment|
I could probably write an entire book on the strange dreams I have on a weekly, if not daily basis.
There’s the one where I was pregnant, delivered my own baby, and then spent the rest of the dream trying to name the baby with Anika. Did I choose Ethan or Evan? The world will never know.
There’s the monthly dream I have about a various ex boyfriend telling me how happy he is without me, which are always super uplifting.
There’s the dreams where I am in some strange sci-fi world where I am fighting off dragons that look like old teachers.
And now there’s a series of reoccurring dreams in which I am going to get a no-chip manicure and cannot decide on a color. The amount of stress I experience in the dream, as well as real life in the same scenario, is so high that I’m almost embarrassed to admit it. But, me being me I almost never too embarrassed to admit really anything. To anyone. A reason I am probably still single.
As with most of my dreams, I always try to interpret what they REALLY mean. Why am I delivering my own baby? Why is my college professor a fire breathing dinosaur? Why am I having an anxiety attack about nail colors? Where is that stress really coming from?
Except with the ex-boyfriend dreams, which I realize are just my sub-conscious being a good friend and reminding me to not thinking about the douchebags of the past when I have control over what I think about.
I’ve been starting to notice a pattern with these no-chip nightmares.
Am I low on money? No-chip nightmare.
Is work kicking me ass? No-chip nightmare.
If you know me, you’ll know how often both of the above scenarios happen to me, and that’ll give you a good idea of how often these no-chip nightmares occur.
I wake up in a cold sweat; DARK OR LIGHT? PASTEL OR NEON? NUDE? CAN I PULL OFF NUDE?!?!?
|Leave a comment|
Today is the first day in a series of long days at work.
Yes, I have been known to complain after a 4 hour work day that I’ve had a “long day” but this upcoming series of long days is the real deal; 11 hours a day for five days. Luckily these days are not consecutive and I get a weekend between day three and day four during which I can catch up on sleep aka hibernate for 48 hours.
You’re probably wondering if I’ve come up with a daily plan for each of these extremely long days as to make sure that they run smoothly, but then you remember who I am and realize there is no way I did something like that.
The kids are really the least of my worries. Being a large child myself, we generally like to spend our days the same way. Eating breakfast, reading stories, doing an art project, eating lunch, taking a nap, eating a snack, maybe another project, maybe another round of stories. My main concern is what I am going to eat and how I’m going to stay awake the entire day.
I thought I’d solved my food dilemma when I went grocery shopping on Monday. I bought stuff to make sandwiches, stuff to bring as snacks, stuff for breakfast, stuff to bring as extra snacks. But see, the thing I forgot to take into account at 615 this morning when I was rushing around to not be late was that lunches do not pack themselves. Bread, cheese, turkey, mustard and other condiments do not decide to join together in the middle of the night and then wrap themselves in tin foil with enough snacks to feed two grown men. They lay there, not moving unless they’re forced to.
Similar to the components of my future lunch, I had no desire to get out of bed this morning until the absolute last second. Leaving me time to walk the dog, grab oatmeal and a banana, and run out the door.
Thank goodness for Jimmy Johns.
Being a low wage worker who has decided to spend the majority of her income on clothes this month, getting lunch delivered to me every day I have to work this week is not an option. Especially when I have the ingredients for the lunch I would be getting delivered to me sitting in my kitchen at home, just waiting to be eaten.
Now, the issue of staying awake for 11 hours straight while also chasing around a group of toddlers who very much enjoy running indoors is another thing. This is a dilemma that can’t be solved by making a phone call.
Actually, I guess if you associate staying awake with doing drugs I technically COULD make a phone call for a delivery of something that would keep me awake. But I am at work, not to mention my bodies tolerance for drugs is basically zero, so this option is off the table.
Gonna spend the next few days loaded up on caffeine and pure will power.
|Leave a comment|
Though Halloween has yet to technically happen, I celebrated last weekend. And it was the scariest weekend of my life.
Friday, Anika and I watched multiple episodes of Freaks and Geeks and then I went to bed at a reasonable hour. We did this because we knew we could only really manage one night out each weekend.
Saturday I spend wandering around Target pretending to be looking for last minute halloween costume ideas, even though I already had one at home. What I ended up buying is the tank top I’ve been wearing for the last four days and relatively impractical shoes. Oh, and a winter hat. I knew that trip had purpose. This is the least scary part of the weekend.
Later Saturday, the boys who live below us threw a HaLlOwEeN pArTy!! Anika and I made Jell-O shots for the occasion, which we were both very proud of. We high-fived more than once throughout the night we were so proud of ourselves. Throughout the night I consumed a significant amount of Jell-O shots, whiskey, beer, and what was being called “rubber drank”. This combination alone should scare you, and should’ve scared me, but it unfortunately did not and I went on with my night frolicking through the booze.
Sunday was the scariest day of all.
I woke up feeling more hungover than usual, which was not unexpected. I ordered my usual hangover cure of a veggie burrito and orange juice from grubhub and waited for it to arrive. Once it did, I consumed the first bites rather quickly, only to suddenly stop and be like, uh oh, this bad boy is not staying down. Then quickly ran to the bathroom and vommed. I decided to lay off the burrito and just try sipping some fresh squeezed OJ. Uh uh, my tummy did not want none of that. I had to make another dash to toilet and barf. Even after deciding to consume nothing for the rest of the day, I voided my stomach contents every half hour for the rest of the day.
This is not an exaggeration.
Once I finally wised up and drank some ginger ale, things started to turn around finally. I actually was able to sleep in two hour increments throughout the night, and did no more vomiting.
It was a Halloween miracle.
The end to this perfect storm came when I had to go into work on Monday after my traumatic Sunday. This particular Monday was the Halloween party for the kids, which meant a lot of candy and pastries everywhere and four toddlers who have just consumed these sugar vessels. I got to work for the post party, but just in time for the sugar rush. No nap time today!
|Leave a comment|
This past week I lived at my parents house so that I could watch the dogs while they were in Montana. One of our dogs is unnaturally old, and blind, so bringing them to stay at my apartment was not a possibility. They’re also insane and hard to manage, which is also why it was out of the question.
I had some friends over to their place the first night of my stay, and it went about as well as I thought it would. The dogs being the power bitches that they are managed to have the gathering orbit completely around them. Luna, the old one, searched for a place to fall asleep the entire time and Kona forced people to play with her. Since even most dog people consider Kona a lot to handle, people were finally worn down by her presence and were all like “it’s been real, byeeeeeee”.
So, there I was, the first day of my one week stay and I had already scared my friends from coming to visit me again.
What did I do, then, you ask?
A whole lot of talking to myself and a whole lot of cooking. A lot of quesadillas and fried noodles got consumed last week. Plus I made banana bread!
My days would start with the dogs piled on top of me, looking at me guiltily if I dare do something as selfish as get up to go to the bathroom, or, gasp!, adjust my sleeping positioning. See, in my parents house the dogs aren’t sleeping with you, you’re sleeping with the dogs.
Next, I would mosey downstairs, let them roam around the backyard for a little while. Luna took the roaming part most literally in that every time I set her down she acted as if she’d been teleported to a different country twenty years in the future. One the first day I was all, “awww poor blind baby” but by the third day I was like, “Come on! It’s the same yard! Man up!”
Then I fed them, then I fed myself. Sometimes I watched TV, other times I played Candy Crush for an indistinguishable amount of time. But regardless, I was always running out the door to make it to work by 2pm.
Working full time while going to grad school is going to be a true wake up call for me.
After work, I’d come home to a welcoming committee of what sounded like screeching women. An hour later, once they’ve settled down, we go through a routine basically identical to the one in the morning. Only this time, it doesn’t end with me running out the door to work, it ends when I decide it’s my bed time. I had to get my rest, cause the next day I’d be doing it all over again!
|Leave a comment|