Grateful

Thank God 2008 is almost over. Only 24 hours and 10 minutes to go!

Silly questions

Why on earth do people still write checks in stores?

Why am I not capable of eating or drinking anything without wearing a little of it?

Why am I always so tired?

Why couldn't I have been born rich instead of beautiful? (heh)

Why do I always wait until I am running on vapors to refill my gas tank?

Why have I been staying up very, very late to play stupid games on my iTouch?

Five for Sunday

So I'm a little late. We've been traveling! It snowed! It rained! It was foggy! It was 60 and sunny! All of that over the course of 24 hours in Chicago.

Things that make me happy:

1. Needing a manicure and having enough nails to get one.
   
2. Being Mommed.
3. Christmas lights on snow-covered trees... until it rains. Then, Christmas lights through the fog.
   
4. Watching squirrels on Mom's deck eating leftover fruit and vegetables.
   
5. Finding neat treats in the liquor cabinet. Jameson's, anyone?

Things that make me less than happy:

1. Having 8 hours to wait in the airport for a flight out. Hence, all of the time for a manicure.
2. Breaking a nail less than 12 hours after getting the manicure.
   
3. Icy driveways with an oh-so-slight incline.
   
4. Really, really, really needing to color my hair.
   
5. Ankle-deep slush.
   

But, hey! After being 9 hours late getting in, we got home ON TIME. Wonders never cease!

Here We Go Again

The laundry is almost done, the extra stuff has been assembled, and I'm almost ready to start packing for our trek to Chicago tomorrow afternoon.

Mom called with news of impending blizzards tomorrow at about the time that we're supposed to take off, but it looks like it won't be that bad. Hopefully, we'll be able to get out and get to Mom's at a decent time. I would have been happy to leave early tomorrow morning and drive, but H was adamant that he didn't want to spend that kind of time in the car. Plus, he really doesn't have the time to take off and needs to work in the morning.

It will be interesting. I'm already worn out thinking about it.

It's the Most...

horrible time of the year.

No, that's not really true. I like to jab at the Christmas season because it's so chaotic, but it's really not that terrible. For many, many years the season was dreadful because I worked retail. Christmas shopping tends to bring out the worst in many people, and I've never understood why.

I had about six years during which I was able to enjoy the season. I wasn't working in a store, and was off on weekends (for the most part) and was home every night so I was able to bake, shop, and rest. Now that I'm back in the fray, I have to manage my time more tightly.

This year, I have hardly baked a thing. I did the great majority of my shopping on-line. I haven't really put up any decorations. I did feel a little guilty about it for a while, but I got over it. It's so true that we put all kinds of stress upon ourselves to have the "perfect" holidays, and create such an environment in our heads that we can never live up to. If I were not working, and had unlimited money, I would give Martha Stewart a run for her money. But, that's not an issue.

I'm grateful to be heading to Chicago, and for my family and friends that love me. And, I'm grateful that we're relatively healthy and happy. That is more than enough.

Subversive Thoughts

I don't like poetry.

I have never seen as many horrifyingly tacky Christmas sweaters as I have today.

I hate Christmas cards.

It's fabulous to have a reputation as being very calm and mature and making a horribly loud fart noise. Not an actual fart, mind you... just the noise.

I like cats better than most people. Hell, I'd like to be one of my cats.

I find multiple pregnancies that result from fertility drugs repulsive. Don't even get me started on the Duggars.

I have opened every single Christmas present in the house that had my name on it.

I really don't care if people drink White Zinfandel. At least they're not judging people that drink.

I'm thinking about letting my gray hair grow out.


Hey... this could be my Five for Friday list. It is Friday, right? Yep. Friday. Thank God.

Here, Kitty Kitty

I don't understand why some people hate cats so much.

1. They are soft.
   
2. They are elegant.
3. They are graceful.
   
4. They purr.
5. They like to cuddle.
   
6. When they don't want to cuddle, they are self-sufficient.
   
7. They are very clean.
   
8. You don't have to take them outside.
   
9. They can be potty-trained.
   
10. They meow.
    
11. They bat things around with their soft little paws.
    
12. They are quiet.
    
13. They are affectionate.
    

So, what's not to like?

Blaaaaaargh

Why on earth am I so sick all of the time? Aside from the normal Crohn's junk? I've been sleeping every chance I get, I have been eating much better, and I have been getting lots of exercise.

True, I have no immune system. Maybe being surrounded by all of the plague carriers at Job #2 and being around the constantly open doors at Job #1 is what's getting me. Being tired all of the time can't help.

I started feeling gross last night at work, and went to bed pretty much as soon as I got home last night. The vomiting started this morning, and my head has been splitting as well. I think that I'm just going to go back to bed now. I really need to get over this.

Smart Girl

Facebook is haunting me again.

I have gotten in touch with some of my classmates from grade school. The Laurel Hill Elementary Class of '82, to be exact. T was so glad to find me... he remembered me as the "smartest girl in the school." At first I was flattered, but then I was overwhelmed.

How do you live up to your potential? More importantly, how do you live down your unrealized potential? I changed elementary schools twice when I was a kid, and seemed to be light-years ahead of everyone else whenever I made the change. Mom has said that various school officials wanted me to skip grades on several occasions, but she refused to let me. I can very clearly remember being the only "gifted" third grader in a program that was geared towards grades 4-6. I was an oddity.

Perhaps the most traumatic memory of Laurel Hill was the changing of my name. I had been Chris for as long as I could remember, but was told when I registered with my Mom that there were already a great many Chrises and that I needed to be Christie. Who was Christie? All of the sudden, I was this brilliant kid thrust into a strange environment with a family that was disintegrating and couldn't even keep my name.

I certainly can't blame Christie for my failure to live up to my "potential." What is potential, anyway? Was I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer or a politician or an astronaut? Am I in the situation that I'm in because I wasn't pushed harder? Am I simply lazy? Is it all just crappy luck, and I need to get over it and be grateful for what I have and who I have turned out to be? Or, do I deserve every misery that I've had over the last few years and need to be grateful that I have a husband that loves me and can carry me when I falter?

It was a bit of a relief to change school districts when I was in High School and be able to go back to being Chris again, but that was only the tip of the iceberg of the unrealized potential. I was no longer the smartest kid in the room, much less the school. Because I came in from a different school district, I wasn't even accepted into the gifted program at HEHS. Was I relieved not to be under that microscope? Was I angry not to be recognized as "special?" I don't really remember. I threw myself into Choir and got great grades and skated by with only as much work as I needed to do.

Once again, I feel as though I've lost my identity. At a party over the weekend, I was asked how work was going and I didn't know what to say other than "collapsing." What was I supposed to say? That I'm almost 40, working two jobs, making virtually no money, am completely exhausted, but I was the smartest girl in my entire elementary school? That I'm not a bookseller any longer, and I still am a wife and cat mother, but I can bake fabulous cookies and even make a mean batch of fudge? And what is it that I'm supposed to do?

Wait it out, I guess. I'm not the most patient person in the world, though. Maybe I should change my name and start over again. I don't ask often, but I would love a concrete answer about SOMETHING.

Such a Moron

I have read very, very few of the New York Times' Best 100 Books of 2008.

What is happening to me?

Five for Friday

Time for a little change this week.

What doesn't hurt?

1. My fingernails. Except, of course, for my right ring finger which I broke off quite painfully.
2. My eyeballs.
   
3. My elbows.
   
4. My hair follicles.
   
5. My nose.
   

That just about sums it up.

Pros and Cons of Facebook

Overall, it's pretty addictive. And, it's fun getting in touch with so, so many people. I've been spending considerably less time on it lately, and certainly haven't been checking it every 10 minutes.

I made a deal with myself that I would only be "friends" with people that I know and love (or that I am a tremendous fan of). That seems to be working. I have gotten some weird friend requests from people that I don't know, and haven't felt terrible about bouncing them at all.

I have also gotten in touch with some people that I haven't spoken to in 15-20 years. Where do you begin to pick up again? I don't think that you can. You just say that you're glad to be in touch again and that it would be lovely to have a drink some time. Because it would. I don't know how I would begin to be able to recap the last 20 years, and my life isn't even that interesting.

Killer Fatigue Redux

I went to bed at 8 last night. Well, I didn't really mean to go to bed, as I was still fully dressed and thought that we would go to the grocery store when H got home.

I woke up at 9:30 this morning still in my work clothes and still exhausted. I would have stayed asleep had E not called. I'm going back to bed now. I can still get in a full day of decorating and baking.

Overheard at Work Today

Beleaguered sales clerk: Would you like to give a gift to St. Jude's Children's Hospital today?

Self-absorbed society matron: Are those socks on sale?

E was kind enough to cover for me at Job #1 tonight. I'm in bed right now and am shutting out the light imminently. I have truly had enough for one day.

He'll Break Your Kneecaps

Rod Blagojevich makes me proud to be an Illinoisian.

Heh. What a complete moron. I'm sure that he honestly thought that he'd get away with it.

Killer Fatigue

I'm Wiped Out. There's no other way to describe it. I've been tired anyway, but I spent the day at Job #1 lugging around full cases of wine and redoing displays. If I weren't so horribly out of shape, it still would have been a very busy day.

I'm not sure if both jobs are kicking my butt because I'm having a bit of a flare, or because it's Christmas, or because I've been working 60-hour weeks, or because I have been sleeping but not very soundly, or a combination of all of these factors.

The flare is a bit troublesome because I am getting a second fistula. It's small, but it's in the same general area as the original one. The swelling has gone down a little, but it's extremely painful. That begs the question, of course, of what to do about this. I need to get back into Dr. L to see what the next step is. I'm pretty sure that surgery isn't an option because of the location. My wrists and hands in particular have been awful lately.

I have been losing weight, but it hasn't been dropping off as quickly as I'd like. That would make the flare worth it.

New Toy

H just got a new MacBook.. Yes, I understand that it's not Christmas yet, and I'm not even supposed to know about its existence, but there it is. The best part of his obsession with new technology is that I get his barely 2-year-old MacBook.

It has taken me a little while to figure it out, but I'm up and running now. It's really not terribly different from my old Stink Pad, once you think about it. It is light years faster, though. And, it's so PRETTY.

Even better, my iPod works with it seamlessly. It tolerated the Stink Pad, but it LOVES the MacBook. H was so kind as to load my iTunes onto the MacBook, along with all of my music from my external hard drive. It has only taken half an hour or so to sync it up. Of course, I don't have 30,000 songs on my iPod... only a measly 3,000.

I'm so happy that I think that I'm going to take a nap until he gets home. Hah.

Five for Friday

It's a little late. Sue me.

Things that make me happy:

1. Really gooey Pecan Pie bars.
   
2. The new Kroger gas station that opened right near our house.
3. Being very close to done with Christmas shopping.
4. A clean house.
   
5. It's almost mid-December already! Yay!
   

Things that make me less than happy:

1. People that will not do their job, even when it is easy.
2. Laundry, laundry, laundry.
3. The permanent ache in my fistulas and joints.
4. Did I mention the second, brand-new fistula?
5. College football. When is this season going to be over, already?
   

Signs That You're Getting Old

This weird, inconsistent pain in my lower back/rear end cannot possibly be sciatica, regardless of what Z said.

Grandpa

I just had long conversations with both my mom and my sister. Apparently, my 91-year-old grandfather had a minor stroke this morning and also has pneumonia and an eye infection. He's in the hospital, and is extremely agitated unless they pump him full of meds. He's been exhibiting signs of Alzheimer's for years now, and doesn't know any of our names any more, but is amazingly healthy beyond that.

I have always seen him as a mythical, almost frightening person. He is a man of very few words but extremely hard work. He has farmed all of his life, and tolerates nonsense from no one. When I was a girl, I used to spend time out at the farm with my grandparents, and the best times were when I would go out to the garden or out into the fields with him. He never said much at all, but always answered my many questions honestly and well.

He was never affectionate. He would accept kisses on the cheek, but that is about it. It's so poignant that he is so much warmer now that he doesn't really know who we are. However, whenever we drove anywhere together, he would always be able to reach out and grab the most sensitive part of my kneecap (in jest, of course). He would smile at my yelp and we would laugh together.

Tonight, Grandma is sleeping in the hospital room at his side, as she promised him that she would. I hope that he can go home soon. I can't imagine it any other way.

As Bad As I Wanna Be

I'm seriously considering wrapping all of H's Christmas gifts and leaving them in a pile in the living room. The torture would be exquisite.

The Bloodbath Continues

More and more people in publishing are losing their jobs. Another large reduction was announced at Thomas Nelson today, and all of the New York houses are scaling way back. I haven't seen a sales job advertised in as long as I can remember... well, not for a job that I can find interesting.

I keep telling myself that I'm doing the right thing. It's so hard, though.

Snippets

One week since I have bitten my nails! Before too much longer, my hands will be pretty again.

I just saw new home construction for the first time in months.

French Burgundies are wonderful, even if they occasionally smell like feet.

Pizza Flavor Blast Goldfish are even better than the original Cheddar ones.

We are almost done with our Christmas shopping.

I thought about going back to bed this morning but didn't.

Stages

It's funny how the oddest thoughts can go through your mind before you completely wake up in the morning. I went through all five stages of grief in about 10 minutes while I was in the shower earlier today.

Denial: I cannot possibly have any underwear that is too tight.

Anger: Even if I do have underwear that is too tight, I can't freaking believe that, of all of the clean underwear in my dresser, I came up with that one.

Bargaining: If, just for once, the underwear fits as it's supposed to, I will never ever ever eat another hamburger.

Depression: I am a big huge moose of a woman.

Acceptance: I have underwear that is too tight. It's only one pair out of many, but it exists.

The irony of it is, that after all of that agony, the underwear fit perfectly for perhaps the first time EVER. Thankfully, I don't eat too many hamburgers anyway.

Never a Dull Moment

Things to do at JFK during your 13-hour wait for a flight:

1. Revel in the fact that there is no college football on. Nor do you see anyone wearing college gear except from schools like NYU and the Carnegie Mellon School of Engineering.
   
2. Try to guess the native countries of fellow passengers by eavesdropping on snips of their native languages.
   
3. Count the passengers that would freak out the TSA at BNA and then give up. It would mean practically everyone except you and H.
4. Look! A yarmulke! When was the last time that you saw one of those? Reflect.
5. Try not to get sad about the exotic places that you're NOT going. San Francisco, Athens, Milan, Pittsburgh...
6. Determine whether or not the Ladies' Room is suitable for a quick sponge bath in a pinch. Updated answer: absolutely not.
   
7. Where are all of the flight attendants? Normally, you see them in droves. They're all hiding. Updated answer: the flight attendant on our trip to BNA confirmed this.
   
8. Look for foreign aircraft, or make it up that you saw exotic ones while H was taking a walk. Watch him get irritated. Feel guilty for teasing him.
9. Search everywhere for a socket so that you can recharge the phone/ipod/Nintendo/whatever died during the last 13 hours. Give up. There is only one socket in the entire terminal, and it's being used by someone wearing a yarmulke. See #4.
   
10. Feel momentarily depressed that you've been in the airport longer than the barista at Starbuck's. Cheer up when you realize that you could BE a barista. Say a quick Hail Mary.

See... the day wasn't a complete loss.