Christmas is my favorite holiday. Every year. I put so much work into it, lots of thought into everyone's gifts, and typically I am done shopping every year well before Thanksgiving (I hate crowds and I especially hate Christmas shopping crowds).
This year was really fantastic. For both of my parents, my good friend Tricia (of www.spokeit.com fame) took pictures of Joey and Hero which I bought fancy frames for. I bought David a Nationals jersey with his name and number on the back of it.
I personally received a lot of goodies - I got the best little keyboard/case for my iPad, which will make taking notes in class, sending emails, updating my blog, and pretty much everything else a million times easier. And since it doubles as a case for both the keyboard and iPad it is still really easy and lightweight to carry. Perfect!
We also got a white Christmas - which is lovely. It snowed all evening and all night, as well as all day today. It is still coming down out there, but the accumulation hasn't been as much as I was hoping for - the weathermen predicted 6-12" for our area and we have about 3" currently. But at least I got snow on Christmas!
So it has been lovely to spend time with parents, Meemaw, and family, as well as David. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get over to visit his family due to weather but I am hoping to go see them soon.
I know the majority of my readers are people that I see personally over the holidays but I hope that you all had a safe and happy holiday!
26 December 2010
21 December 2010
Is this real life?
I don't ever have trouble mistaking dreams for reality because my dreams are often so bizarre that they could never happen in real life. They are often very detailed and take place in the real world, but just really couldn't possibly happen. For instance, before my final grades were posted this semester, I had a dream that one of my history professors lowered my grade from an A+ to a B because he heard people around campus spreading rumors about me, including that I frequently got hit by cards due to not paying attention, and he concluded that if I wanted to make it in the world as a historian, I needed to get used to gossip effecting my career.
Yesterday, though, real life was so weird that I thought I might be dreaming.
Let me start by saying that following exam week, I came home and slept, celebrated my 25th birthday, and seemed to have developed a head cold. So my brain was a little fuzzy, and I got up early to take Chandler to the vet because he hasn't been feeling well lately.
In the lobby I met the crazy cat lady. You know, THE crazy cat lady. The one you always hear about.
She seemed normal at first. Somewhat elderly, well dressed, carrying a little dog that was so old it didn't really know what was going on but was really cute. He wasn't on a leash and when she put him down he would wander around the lobby and sniff all the other pets. I struck up a conversation with her, partially because she was sitting next to us while we were waiting for Chandler, but mostly because the little dog looked like a living teddy bear.
I was just asking her about her little dog and she was really friendly and then just dropped the bomb that he lives with her and her thirty two cats. Your what? I thought. Your how many? Thirty two cats. Plus some outdoor cats. I know this seems like something a senile old lady would say, but I'm willing to give this woman the benefit of the doubt. As they say on the many crime tv shows I watch, "she fit the profile." Plus, she had so many anecdotes about how he would chase the outdoor cats and slept in the middle of all of the indoor cats on her bed.
I immediately thought of last week when my grandmother informed me that she had 10 inches of snow outside and the snowflakes were as big as apples. Riiiiiight, I thought. But this lady wasn't 94 - she seemed about 50. She looked very together in her pantsuit and nice jewelry. We stopped talking as the vet came out and spoke to my father and me about Chandler's test results in the lobby, but I kept my eye on her. She sat there stroking her dog - who wasn't even sick - he had come along for the ride as she brought in one of her cats to visit the vet.
Guys, I feel like I just met Santa. THE crazy cat lady. I should have asked for an autograph.
Yesterday, though, real life was so weird that I thought I might be dreaming.
Let me start by saying that following exam week, I came home and slept, celebrated my 25th birthday, and seemed to have developed a head cold. So my brain was a little fuzzy, and I got up early to take Chandler to the vet because he hasn't been feeling well lately.
In the lobby I met the crazy cat lady. You know, THE crazy cat lady. The one you always hear about.
She seemed normal at first. Somewhat elderly, well dressed, carrying a little dog that was so old it didn't really know what was going on but was really cute. He wasn't on a leash and when she put him down he would wander around the lobby and sniff all the other pets. I struck up a conversation with her, partially because she was sitting next to us while we were waiting for Chandler, but mostly because the little dog looked like a living teddy bear.
I was just asking her about her little dog and she was really friendly and then just dropped the bomb that he lives with her and her thirty two cats. Your what? I thought. Your how many? Thirty two cats. Plus some outdoor cats. I know this seems like something a senile old lady would say, but I'm willing to give this woman the benefit of the doubt. As they say on the many crime tv shows I watch, "she fit the profile." Plus, she had so many anecdotes about how he would chase the outdoor cats and slept in the middle of all of the indoor cats on her bed.
I immediately thought of last week when my grandmother informed me that she had 10 inches of snow outside and the snowflakes were as big as apples. Riiiiiight, I thought. But this lady wasn't 94 - she seemed about 50. She looked very together in her pantsuit and nice jewelry. We stopped talking as the vet came out and spoke to my father and me about Chandler's test results in the lobby, but I kept my eye on her. She sat there stroking her dog - who wasn't even sick - he had come along for the ride as she brought in one of her cats to visit the vet.
Guys, I feel like I just met Santa. THE crazy cat lady. I should have asked for an autograph.
04 December 2010
Leaf Angels
I think I've posted before about how Joey likes to get dirty; well, rolling in the leaves is his second favorite to rolling in the mud. I always say he is making "leaf angels," sort of like snow angels, because he stretches out on the ground and rolls in the leaves until he is covered in them and there is a Joey-size imprint on the ground where he used to be.
Butterflies.
Butterflies. The most evil creatures on the planet. Most people look at me like I am crazy when I say this, but I know.
I think this all started when I was little. I remember being in my bedroom at our old house, and I had this poster which, during the day, was REALLY cool. It had the alphabet on it, but the letters were all photographs of butterfly wings whose patterns made the shapes of the letters. I am sure my parents thought it was great. Little did they know that they were traumatizing me for life. Because when the lights went off and I fell asleep, all of the butterflies in that poster would come and fly out at me, attacking me like a well trained legion of the Roman Empire. I was dreaming of course, but it was horrifying. And I just can't shake the feeling that butterflies are secretly brilliant masterminds who are plotting our deaths so they can take over the world.
I know, I know - I need serious help. I'm on medication already. It's helping.
Still, when I am walking during the summer and some "friendly" butterfly gets in my face and goes FLAP FLAP FLAP I just want to kill it. If you've been following my posts on here, you know that one of my things is that I hate all things "creepy crawly" - well I should add to that, and make it 'creepy crawly or flappy" because butterflies just freak me the hell out.
Also note, that often time brightly colored animals are often the most dangerous because they have no reason to fear predators because they are poisonous and therefore do not need camouflage. You know that's true because it's on the internet. (That's a joke. It's true because it's in biology text books and my professor said so). Anyway. I'm just telling you, don't trust the butterflies. They are up to no good.
And don't EVEN get me started on the moths.
I think this all started when I was little. I remember being in my bedroom at our old house, and I had this poster which, during the day, was REALLY cool. It had the alphabet on it, but the letters were all photographs of butterfly wings whose patterns made the shapes of the letters. I am sure my parents thought it was great. Little did they know that they were traumatizing me for life. Because when the lights went off and I fell asleep, all of the butterflies in that poster would come and fly out at me, attacking me like a well trained legion of the Roman Empire. I was dreaming of course, but it was horrifying. And I just can't shake the feeling that butterflies are secretly brilliant masterminds who are plotting our deaths so they can take over the world.
I know, I know - I need serious help. I'm on medication already. It's helping.
Still, when I am walking during the summer and some "friendly" butterfly gets in my face and goes FLAP FLAP FLAP I just want to kill it. If you've been following my posts on here, you know that one of my things is that I hate all things "creepy crawly" - well I should add to that, and make it 'creepy crawly or flappy" because butterflies just freak me the hell out.
Also note, that often time brightly colored animals are often the most dangerous because they have no reason to fear predators because they are poisonous and therefore do not need camouflage. You know that's true because it's on the internet. (That's a joke. It's true because it's in biology text books and my professor said so). Anyway. I'm just telling you, don't trust the butterflies. They are up to no good.
And don't EVEN get me started on the moths.
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