The Reason for the Season

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Mr. Darcy, I'd Like You to Meet the Competition

Water Bottle?

Check.

Popcorn?

Check.

Red Vines?

Check.

PJs?

Check.

Fuzzy "Monster" Socks?

Check.

Two week vacation from the adolescents?

Check (and a resounding, harmonious rendition of "The Halleluia Chorus").

The first half of the BBC's North and South?

Check.

This is what bliss looks like.

I swooned.

I haven't swooned in...well, ever, really. But swoon I did watching this. I blame it on the subtle, killer of a soundtrack...and perhaps that Richard Armitage as the haunted Mr. Thornton. I cannot wait until the second half arrives in the mail (though I may have cheated and looked ahead on youtube just a little bit). Should I be ashamed at the pitifulness of it? Because I'm not. What is it with BBC and the entirety of their female literary canon looking in on my adolescent diaries and spitting out films mirroring my frivolous young fantasies?

Yes, Mr. Darcy, meet Mr. Thornton. It is a toss up. No one can tell which of you smolders hottest with your brooding white heat. But oh the fun of comparing!

Now, onto the important things:

Laundry completed, presents wrapped, Christmas shopping done?

Errr...

The White Stuff

Today, while stuck spinning out on a ridiculously steep incline a mere quarter mile from my school (for over half an hour until the plow truck salted the road. Yes I said "OVER HALF AN HOUR." Stuck. In my car. Trapped there because I had spun my last spin in front of some poor sap's driveway and couldn't abandon my car in front of their only access to the road/ice slide while I took the treacherous hike up to the school). Anyway, while stuck, I thought to myself how snow is sort of like a Hollywood actress. Oh, at surface value she is beautiful. Pristine. Her mere appearance makes the world quiet and lovely and soft. But beneath the perfect veneer lies an iciness that could rival Cruella De Vil. Yes, snow might look pretty, but deep down it's a B!T@#!

Because It Really Bugs Me THAT Much

I know, I already posted tonight. I need to go to bed. But I can't stay quiet about this any longer. It is late and my "you know better" censor is in the off position. I might even offend a few of you reading this. But, as said, that censor is as good as gone.

There are many things out there in the blogosphere (blegh...that word) that cause me to shake my head in shame and embarrassment. But none quite as much as the following. Ladies (and the occasional gentleman): DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, alternate between upper and lower case letters in your post titles (i.e. "fUn WiTh PiCtUrEs" or "oUr ThAnKsGiViNg"). Do not do this in the body of your posts. Do not do this anywhere.

You are no longer 14. It looks ridiculous. Not, as dubbed by Paris herself, "Hot." Please stop. Seriously. Stop.

Now.

Please.

Seriously?

My job grows more and more surreal by the hour. Take, for instance, these oddities on the to do list for the week:

Pick up a crown from Burger King
Find cleaning product to remove the gum from between blind slats at school
Design a costume as "Flava Flav" (including alarm clock "bling")
Pick up 6 strips of 1/2" PVC pipe from Home Depot
Purchase 200 paper lunch bags
Download & Burn CD (with: 1 Madonna song--"Papa Don't Preach," 1 Kiss song--"Detroit Rock City", the Grey's Anatomy theme, and one CLEAN song by Public Enemy--does it even matter what I chose?)
Locate Disney's Hercules (preferably at a video store I don't have a late fee with)
Create salad for faculty "Festivus" party (contemplate possible stupid human trick to contribute to the talent show for said party)

No, I'm not building a pipe bomb or having an identity crisis or attending a costume party. I just teach. And have co-workers driven to the same state of madness by the adolescents as I have been.

Adult Conversation

You know how stay at home moms long for adult conversation? After long days of little kid talk, they just need to spill what's been sloshing around in their mind all day. Though their personal space has been invaded all day long, they feel lonely.

Lately, I understand this feeling more and more. You see, I too long for adult conversation. You know, logical, rational, respectful, polite interchanges. Speech in which one does not shamelessly, miserably lie to one while looking one directly in the eye and smiling. Where one syllable really is just one syllable as opposed to a whine-ish extension (a la "Shut u-up"). Conversation without the monosyllabic grunt or the under-the-breath degradation, or the text messaging acronym ("IDK" must die, but I digress). Communication sans the defensive, the false cockiness, the hidden insecurity. In a language I can understand--no hidden meanings behind "let's dig", no "MO-ted" (is this even a word?). Oh, how I long for adult conversation.

I realized recently that other people go to work and, when not in the (angry) customer service field, receive this dignified treatment I oh-so-desire. Sometimes, my only sense of sweet revenge is the mere fact that one day these same adolescents will be adults annoyed by adolescents, hopefully their adolescent children. And hopefully I don't teach them too.


And mother's, not to slight your most noble and difficult position in any way, but count your blessings. It could be worse. They could be teenagers.

Long Overdue, Christmas, and Such

I know, I know. Post already. I've heard you all loud and clear. I've just been busy with the holidays. With family. With my job. You know, busy with my life and all that nonsense. Clearly I need to remember where my priorities should be. Because anyone with a brain could tell you that staying up until far past 11 on a school night to write a blog post, (er...create photo collages for an "easier" post) is far more important than sleep. Or my sanity. As these two things seem to be intertwined in my life (everything gets sort of hazy after a mere 4-5 hours). But I'm rambling.

Anyway, I thought I'd post a few pictures since it has been a while. The first is a medley of my Christmastime lovelies. I've downloaded some great new music to my iTunes. I've purchased cinnamon pine cones (and in the process I might have snorted their intoxication--I love coming home to it). I've been shopping. I haven't wrapped a dang thing. But the Christmas decor is up and glowing and so I believe that equates to bragging rights on the blog...


The next set is from nearly two months ago. My sister and her kiddos, brother and his boys, and we singletons (Alice & myself), headed up on the tram at a nearby ski resort to the top of the highest peak. We did this before the snow flew too heavily (after a horrible day on the slopes in 7th grade I've vowed never to ski again...but that is another post). Anyway, it was a windy day. A fun day. And lately I'm missing that blue sky and bright sun. It seems I never see the sun anymore between the daylight hours at school and my little basement hovel. So, I figured I'd better get them made into some form of documentation before I just deleted them altogether from the memory card (I tend to do that a lot with pictures--ah, the beauty of digital).

These are kind of divided by adults and kids. The kids are cuter, the adults compile a bunch of funky pictures I took before my battery died. Oh, and if you can click on the kids' collage and make it bigger, be sure to notice the look of sheer horror on the kid in the left corner's face. He didn't so much like the tram. He was clinging on for dear life, poor boy. I, of course, viewed this as the perfect Kodak moment. Afterall, what are kids for if not to provide us with an endless source of cheap entertainment?

Enjoy.





And I hope to post a "real blog post" sometime. Soon. I swear. Maybe after midterms are over.

What about you? Are your Christmas pretties up? Are you missing sunlight as much as I am? Are you too struggling to fit blogging in these days? The comment addict wants to know...