12.26.2007
Joy to the World...
...Christmas is over! I would like to take a moment to personally thank our sponsors, Woodford Reserve, Anderson Valley's Winter Solstice, Samuel Smith's Winter Welcome, Anchor Steam's Christmas Ale and countless other breweries who made this year's 2007 Holy Mother of Christmas Holiday bearable. It was touch-and-go for a while there, but we've crossed the finish line with nary a drop of bloodshed. Now it's on to 2008!
12.18.2007
Christmas Time Is Here
Full disclosure: I am facing what the corporate world optimistically refers to as a "challenge" when it comes to keeping a "positive attitude" about the holidays.
Friday, as I was weaving my way out of downtown through all the idiots who don't know what those silly lines in the road mean or how to use a turn signal, my brother called to say he'd be at my house earlier than expected. All I needed was ten minutes. Ten minutes – to myself – for what I like to refer to as an "attitude readjustment." In this case, it meant blowing straight past my husband as he held the door open for me upon my arrival home in a beeline for our bar. I had envisioned a bloody Mary, but I was too impatient to actually mix a drink. Two Makers on the rocks later, I was feeling a bit more relaxed, though my mental state was surly, at best. The three of us, my brother, my husband and I, planned to carpool to Indy to stay the night and attend a family Christmas party the following day.
There are a lot of nice things I could say here about spending time with family during the holidays. Some of them would even be true. But at this moment in time, I simply lacked the energy it takes to fake that I am having a ball! and really looking forward to it!
We packed up the car and headed north. My brother offered to drive, for which I was extremely grateful. I've done a lot of traveling lately, and on each trip, I am either driving or playing co-pilot. It was with great relief that I filled up my flask and piled in the backseat. By the time we reached Indy, I was feeling loose and warm, and my flask was empty.
I managed to keep my mouth shut for most of the visit, though there was a moment where I nearly lost it. A relative, who shall remain nameless, but I will tell you she is a relative by marriage, was discussing her new job as an interior designer. She was bragging about a client who just spent $30,000 on – get this – curtains.
Let me give you a minute to digest that.
Thirty THOUSAND dollars. On curtains. And before I could stop myself, I shouted, "How could you live with yourself?!" It is Christmas, for Christ's sake, a time when we're all (ok, maybe not as many people as I'd like to think) acutely aware of global poverty, and these people just spent $30,000 to cover their windows.
But I digress. All things considered, the trip was a success. The boys were all, "Well, that wasn't so bad! Things could have been way worse!" And they're right. But that didn't change the fact that immediately after we piled into our respective places in my car, I requested a stop at the nearest liquor store, where I purchased a pint of Makers and proceeded to nurse it the entire drive home.
Friday, as I was weaving my way out of downtown through all the idiots who don't know what those silly lines in the road mean or how to use a turn signal, my brother called to say he'd be at my house earlier than expected. All I needed was ten minutes. Ten minutes – to myself – for what I like to refer to as an "attitude readjustment." In this case, it meant blowing straight past my husband as he held the door open for me upon my arrival home in a beeline for our bar. I had envisioned a bloody Mary, but I was too impatient to actually mix a drink. Two Makers on the rocks later, I was feeling a bit more relaxed, though my mental state was surly, at best. The three of us, my brother, my husband and I, planned to carpool to Indy to stay the night and attend a family Christmas party the following day.
There are a lot of nice things I could say here about spending time with family during the holidays. Some of them would even be true. But at this moment in time, I simply lacked the energy it takes to fake that I am having a ball! and really looking forward to it!
We packed up the car and headed north. My brother offered to drive, for which I was extremely grateful. I've done a lot of traveling lately, and on each trip, I am either driving or playing co-pilot. It was with great relief that I filled up my flask and piled in the backseat. By the time we reached Indy, I was feeling loose and warm, and my flask was empty.
Let me give you a minute to digest that.
But I digress. All things considered, the trip was a success. The boys were all, "Well, that wasn't so bad! Things could have been way worse!" And they're right. But that didn't change the fact that immediately after we piled into our respective places in my car, I requested a stop at the nearest liquor store, where I purchased a pint of Makers and proceeded to nurse it the entire drive home.
12.04.2007
I'm a Big Kid Now
As I sit at my desk at work, drowning my frustrations of the day in chocolate, I have decided to compose two lists in an attempt to alleviate my cluttered mind. This time of year is filled with commitments and preparation for those commitments, in addition to your daily responsibilities, and I often find myself feeling guilty for all the things that I cannot do because I am too busy or too overwhelmed and instead must distract myself with sleep or television, because it is all just too much to face some days. And for reasons too long to go into, and likely unnecessary for you to know in order to relate, I equate these things to either successes or failures in my quest for adulthood. (Perhaps the bigger question is, why am I on such a quest to begin?) So list number one:
Ways in Which I Am Failing As An Adult
1. I can't remember the last time I ran a vacuum in my home, mopped a floor, cleaned a window or dusted anything.
2. I can't remember the last time I actually filed something, instead of creating yet another pile of paper on the floor.
3. I have less than $200 in my savings account.
4. Let's not even discuss what I have not saved for retirement so far.
5. The list of people who I need to visit and/or send a birthday card to is too long to list here.
Ways in Which I Am Succeeding As An Adult
1. My bills are paid.
2. I have bought approximately 1/3 of my Christmas gifts already and it's only December 4, a record for me.
3. I have actually been using my day planner and subsequently have been acutely aware of how little time I do have, which, theoretically speaking, means I'm budgeting my time.
4. I have made sleep a priority in an effort to keep my health up. (Ok, so maybe I use it as a scapegoat for getting things accomplished, but when I start thinking about all the little things that I need to do, all the clutter and disorganization physically and metaphorically, I begin to feel warm and drowsy and like my eyelids have little weights in them. And how can I face the day without the proper amount of rest?)
More on this later.
Or not.
Ways in Which I Am Failing As An Adult
1. I can't remember the last time I ran a vacuum in my home, mopped a floor, cleaned a window or dusted anything.
2. I can't remember the last time I actually filed something, instead of creating yet another pile of paper on the floor.
3. I have less than $200 in my savings account.
4. Let's not even discuss what I have not saved for retirement so far.
5. The list of people who I need to visit and/or send a birthday card to is too long to list here.
Ways in Which I Am Succeeding As An Adult
1. My bills are paid.
2. I have bought approximately 1/3 of my Christmas gifts already and it's only December 4, a record for me.
3. I have actually been using my day planner and subsequently have been acutely aware of how little time I do have, which, theoretically speaking, means I'm budgeting my time.
4. I have made sleep a priority in an effort to keep my health up. (Ok, so maybe I use it as a scapegoat for getting things accomplished, but when I start thinking about all the little things that I need to do, all the clutter and disorganization physically and metaphorically, I begin to feel warm and drowsy and like my eyelids have little weights in them. And how can I face the day without the proper amount of rest?)
Or not.
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