...humbug?

I am bummed. 

(Which, for my UK readers, means I am sad, not that I was anally invaded, thankyouverymuch.)

Here's the thing. I want to whine a bit, because this is my blog. But I always feel so guilty whining, especially around the holidays, because I have so much for which to be grateful. And while I'm initially inclined to sit around and feel really sorry for myself (because poor me), there are people who have it so much worse and are so much more uplifting and nice and happy. Basically, they have a better attitude than I do. 

So. I am going to whine. A little bit. But I also want everyone to realize that I know how much worse it could be. And I am really grateful, so I will follow up my whining with a "thankful list." Is that okay?

I am bummed out because I started this Christmas season actually a little bit excited about the whole thing. Christmas is never my favorite time of year, but it seemed like everything was going pretty well. My aunt is in town to help out with my grandma, my parents' health is good, Michael is doing well...all seemed like it might shape up to be a normal Christmas (disasters of Christmasses past: emergency trip to NC on Christmas day to retrieve my ailing grandmother and bring her here to live, my dad being temporarily blinded by retinal detachment surgery, me having my wisdom teeth out, and the kicker, my grandpa passing on the 23rd). 

Then I wrecked my knee. 

Which wasn't really all that bad. I mean, it sucks, and it still hurts. But I didn't need to have surgery, so that's a good thing.

What really sucks about it is how long its taking to heal. Granted, I am two weeks out of my injury. They said it'll be about 8. I've got a LONG way to go still. But I am SO SICK of just lying around. Or going one place and being too tired out to continue running my errands and finishing my Christmas shopping. I don't like being physically frustrated when mentally, I'm ready to GO. 

This, of course, being the first year in ages that I haven't finished my Christmas shopping by Thanksgiving, I ended up having to order the remaining gifts on my list online. Which is a beautiful thing. Except for when they ship you the wrong item and in order to get the correct item in time for Christmas, you have to go to the physical store anyway, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid doing in the first place. 

This has happened. Twice. I still haven't made my final return and frankly, I'm not going to. Everyone can just deal with getting the rest of their presents after New Year's. 

THEN, I got sick. So now, I am sick, coughing, sniffling, not-sleeping, and achy. And my leg is still bad. My physical therapist ripped me a new one yesterday, so I'm sorer now than I've been in a long time. THANKS, GUYS. 

So even if I could muster up the energy (and swallow enough DayQuil) to go out and finish my things, my leg's too sore. And I'm hacking up a lung. 

I went back to work for like, 2 days and it was glorious. But apparently, two days is more than my ridiculously puny system can handle, so now I'm back to invalid status. 

*sigh*

I am very patient with others. It's a good trait. But I am ruthless with myself. I am angry with myself for getting hurt in the first place. I'm mad that the injury so lowered my immune system that I got sick on top of it. I'm mad that I went into shock and wasn't braver, and as a result I'm not producing enough serotonin and I feel depressed when I should be making jokes about the irony of the situation. I'm mad that I didn't get my Christmas shopping done sooner. I'm mad I don't make more money (which would have facilitated getting shopping done sooner). I'm mad that there's still time to make sure everything is perfect, and instead, I'm in bed, looking like hell, again. I'm mad I'll miss my family's Christmas dinner tomorrow because I had a blast seeing everyone on Thanksgiving. I'm mad I had to cancel meeting up with Bethany to exchange gifts. I'm mad I haven't seen The Hobbit yet and won't until probably after New Year's.

I'm just a little miffed. 

So, that's my whiny time. I'm just bummed because I tend to be a perfectionist. I want everyone to be healthy and happy on Christmas, with the perfect presents wrapped perfectly (I skimped on wrapping this year, too, because getting down on the floor to wrap is one thing. Getting up is an epic of Beowulf proprotion.). I feel like I'm letting down my friends and family by not getting to see them, like somehow they might think I'm making things up to get out of social things, which I'm not. 

Hopefully, this cold will pass without becoming bronchitis, and I'll feel halfway decent on Christmas. 

On to the Things For Which I Am Thankful:

-That I didn't need surgery.

-For Bixby, who literally makes me smile and/or laugh every day even if I feel crappy.

-For my parents, who are nice enough to let me live with them, assure me that Christmas will continue even if I don't do ALL THE THINGS, and are helping me and taking care of me.

-For my bed. I mean, if I'm going to be stuck somewhere on and off for a month at a time, it might as well be somewhere I love, right?

-For the extended editions of the Lord of the Rings DVD's, the special features of which I've been systematically watching while I'm down and out.

-For books, for keeping me sane.

-For the friends who've stopped by and brought cards, flowers, encouraging emails and texts. You guys mean everything to me, and I'm so grateful for your love and support and well-wishes.

-For my job. Here's how you know your boss is awesome: you call her from the emergency room to let her know what happened and her first question is, "Are you there alone? Do you need me to come over there?" Seriously, I was totally morphined up, but I almost cried. Secondly, they've allowed me to do some telecommuting from home, and have basically said, "make your own schedule while you're recovering." Thirdly, every single one of my co-workers got each other Christmas gifts, even if it was just little things from the Dollar Store or homemade cookies. It's just so sweet. Fourthly, when I came in earlier this week, they had literally moved my entire desk and workspace downstairs for me so I don't have to trudge up the stairs. Seriously??? My job is amazing, and I thank God every day for the people I work with and for allowing me to be there with them.

-For Christmas. Because even if it's not the perfect, soft-focus event I imagined in my mind, we're still allowed to celebrate it however we want to or can in this country. And I'm so glad I have a savior who reminds me every once in a while to be a Mary, not a Martha, and just sit at His feet and be in His presence, especially at this time of year. And it's okay to sit, and be still, and know that He is God. 

"Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world."

Thankful List

• Topping the list this year is my job. First of all, I'm glad I even have a job. Secondly, this time last year, I was worried I was going to be a secretary forever, and actually cried (tears of joy) when one of my co-workers came up to me to discuss The Secret Garden which she had recently read. I realized then (more than ever) that I needed to be working among books and with other bookish people. God heard my prayers and placed me in a job that's perfect for me, and with people I really enjoy. I'm so grateful that the Director decided to take a chance on "the coupon girl with no experience." It's changed my life!
• I'm grateful for my family, who are wonderful. Especially my Mom, who no matter what life throws at her deals with it gracefully and with dignity, and no matter how hard her own battles are, touches everyone she meets and knows with kindness and generosity. I'm grateful for my Dad, who's not only brilliant, hard-working, and generally the best guy I know, but for giving me impossibly high standards when it comes to dating guys, because I know what the best is, and won't settle for less. And for Michael, who is such a hard worker, is so smart it actually makes me sick, and is, comparatively speaking, a really good kid and great brother. 
• I'm grateful for my mom's older sister who's really stepped up and helped us out this holiday season. And for my paternal grandmother, who's like the glue who holds us all together and is always welcoming and awesome. I'm also grateful that as my cousins and I move towards adulthood, we're able to reconnect in a way we couldn't when we were little kids with years between us. Being five years older is the difference between kindergarten and 5th grade when you're little. When you're older, it totally doesn't matter anymore. 
• I'm grateful that I have a heavenly Father who loves me and forgives me, and doesn't expect me to be perfect. He just wants me to be me. 
• I'm grateful for America, and even though our we're facing difficulty, we still live in the greatest country in the world. (Mostly because I get to have a blog where I can talk about God and government and not have to worry about getting shot for it. *_~)
• I'm grateful for Bixby, Sherman, and all the animals we're blessed with on this planet, both wild and domesticated. Seriously, animals are great. ALL of them. But especially pugs and manatees and narwhals.
• I'm grateful for being relatively healthy, asthma and monthly colds aside (which are due, mostly, to the fact that I work with children, who are well-recognized germ bags. Adorable and hilarious, but germ bags nonetheless). 
• I'm actually grateful that I'm strong enough to be single in a society which tells me that I'm worthless if I don't have a guy at my side or a ring on my finger. I'd rather be happy, like I am now, and single than stuck with somebody I can't stand. 
• I'm grateful for all my friends and acquaintances, even if we just talk on Facebook, because you make me feel loved and not as weird as I think I am in my head. But I'm especially grateful for Bethany, because we met when we were 15 and we'll both be 25 this year, which means she's been my bestie for 10 years. It's really nice to have someone grow up beside you, and know all your stories so you don't have to explain it all to them. Actually, she could probably finish all my stories for me with better accuracy than I could. 
• I'm grateful for books, literacy, and imagination.
• Food. Enough said. 

I know I've missed a lot, because I have so much for which to be grateful. Thank you, if you're reading this, for being here and being awesome. And Happy Thanksgiving!

(Or, as they say in the south with the emphasis on "thanks" and no "g" at the end, THANKSgivin'!)

Literary moms.

I wanted to do a list of my favorite mothers/mother figures from literature, but decided to do a picture collage instead.

August Boatwright, The Secret Life of Bees; Charlotte, Charlotte's Web; Mrs. Bennett, Pride and Prejudice; the entire Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood; Marilla Cuthbert, Anne of Green Gables; Catherine Earnshaw, Wuthering Heights; Lily Potter, Molly Weasley, and Narcissa Malfoy, Harry Potter. 

Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms, grandmoms, aunts, dog-moms, moms-to-be, and moms-who-aren't-actually-biologically-related-but-might-as-well-be! 

Just typical dinner conversation with the Daniels'.

You've lost your muchness.

(Image credit with help from PhotoFunia.)

I feel as though, lately, I've lost my muchness. I can't really describe what "muchness" is, but I think everyone has a general idea of what it means to them.

I've been coasting lately. I'm terribly complacent with my life, which isn't the most terrible thing ever, but I dislike it. I don't like feeling just "okay." The other day I was trying to verbalize what was wrong or missing in my life, and the word that came to mind was "inspiration." There is nothing around me that inspires me. I'm stuck listening to the same old songs, seeing the same few people, going the same places...there is very little "scope for the imagination," as Anne of Green Gables put it.





I figured with my lack of inspiration, and therefore decent blog posts worth reading, it was time for me to be completely honest with you, my readers. I feel like lately my blog's been a lot of BS, and I HATE that because when I started it I never wanted it to end up at that place. And it has.

When I started this blog, I made two Cardinal Rules which were never to be broken:
1. Do not blog about family.
2. Do not blog about work.
I've held to those pretty well. I don't write about family (apart from the odd mention or quote here and there) because I love them, and my extended family reads this, too, and I'd hate to inadvertently offend or overexpose someone. Also, it's really none of your business whatsoever what my family does.
And I NEVER complain about work on this blog unless it's something that I've brought to my boss's attention. If you can't bring a complaint to the higher-ups, then you either have a) a crappy boss or b) an illegitimate complaint. I know people who've complained online about their jobs and then promptly lost them. And I DON'T want that to happen to me.

Herein lies the problem: my life, right now, is centered around family and work. My friends all live far away, so I rarely get to hang out with them even though we talk daily. The only places I really go are work, church, and errand-running. I have an incredibly active imagination which usually serves me very well as far as inventing things to write about. But lately, my imagination has been dormant. I imagine it to be like a fat guy who hasn't had the proper diet and exercise--it's there, it's just being terribly lazy and not getting the right treatment. Which is all my fault.


We've also had some trying times family-wise which have taken up a lot of my time and mental space right now. I won't get into the nitty-gritty, but on Christmas Day, we got a call that my grandma had been admitted to the hospital in North Carolina. She's lived alone on a mountain since my grandpa died 15 years ago, so we've always been concerned. The day after Christmas, my Mom and Dad drove up and brought her back here, presumably to live with us. After a day or so, she had another bad turn and ended up in the hospital here. She was just released on Tuesday into a nursing and rehabilitation center down the road. She won't be returning to NC and will probably be in this area in some sort of assisted living facility for the rest of her life.

This, naturally, has been extremely trying for my family. However, I feel better about her being here. As she gets older, it's simply not SAFE for her to be alone in a massive forest (it's not safe for anyone, really, regardless of age), and it'll be better for her to be here getting the care she needs and deserves. Also, we get to see her more, which makes us all happy. :)
But it has been hard the last couple of weeks, especially on my mom. If I've been quiet around here it's because I've been doing all I can to help out my family. Seriously, I'll be 23 in two months and I don't pay rent. The least I can do is help out.

I've also been fighting the world's most epic flu/sinus infection during all of this. I had a fever of about 101 for three days straight and felt absolutely MISERABLE--like, to the point where I couldn't even watch TV. You KNOW you're sick when you can't even rot your brain properly.

So that's why things have been quiet here in the Sea of Snark. I beg your understanding, dear Readers. I know you're a forgiving lot. :)




So ANYWAY, while I don't condone making New Year's Resolutions, my resolve this year (in between looking for a career to jump-start my so-called adult life, helping my family through their transitional time, and generally being awesome) is to find something I'm really passionate about. It'll probably be something totally stupid. But if it makes my heart race when I'm doing it and if I think about it when I'm not, I'll know I've found it. I want to find something that inspires me; something that inspires me to write again.

I thank you all for bearing with me on this journey and for reading my blog even through the awful dry patches. You guys are the BEST and I appreciate each and every one of you!


For further reading, Miss Gala Darling has, once again, a perfectly timed article on regaining your "spark." Or, "muchness" as the case may be. ;)

(Image credit.)

"I can show you that when it starts to rain, everything's the same."

Once again, a conflict has arisen between myself and my mother, today regarding my outfit of choice.

This morning, Mom and I decided to go garage sale-ing, and it was wet and rainy, so I decided to wear my rain boots (practical, right?). And the only way to wear rain boots is either with pants or leggings/skirt/dress. Well, part of the downside of being only slightly over 5 feet tall is the fact that your pants ALWAYS drag on the floor. It being wet outside, I didn't want sopping, muddy hems, so I opted for a skirt and leggings. Then I added my raincoat, and a hat because I didn't feel like bothering with my hair.

Also: GARAGE SALES. Who am I dressing up for anyway??

My clothes:


Well, about halfway through our expedition my mom goes, "Well, that's a colorful little suit you have on today, Mary." And then it's like she couldn't let it go.

Things My Mom Said To Describe My Outfit:
-that it looked like I had a dish rag/pillow case on my head
-I went into my closet and wore ALL THE THINGS (my mom DOES read Hyperbole and a Half. WINNING)

-it's no wonder old people think I'm cute, because it looks like I raided their wardrobes
-this face:


What My Dad Said To Describe My Outfit:
"The top half looks like eastern, Russian orthodox, and the bottom half looks very British mod."

What Bixby Said To Describe My Outfit:
"Snuffle snuffle snort lick." Which means, "Oh Mary! You look beautiful!"

The opinions of my dog and dad aren't really important because they're kind of neutral (Bixby ALWAYS takes my side, so it's not fair to take his thoughts into account). So here's the question:

With whom do you agree: me or my mom?

"I am no bird, and no net ensnares me."

{Illustration by Dame Darcy for Spanish edition of Jane Eyre.}

I am a thistle sifter. I sift thistles.

My mother and I had a disagreement about the above ad. Or rather, the model in the ad. The male one.

According to her, he is hot and she thinks that I should be, and I quote, "locked in a room with him for 4 days." My reaction?


He looks creepy! He looks like a total tosser with no personality and fewer brain cells. Also, his quasi-beard-thing looks like it could potentially injure you. Also his chest hair weirds me out. I don't know. He just does NOTHING for me.

SO, who do you agree with? This is purely out of curiosity.

Is this guy hot or not?

Somewhere a band is playing.

-Ray Bradbury

I just finished reading Bradbury's novella Somewhere a Band is Playing. It only took me about 50 minutes to finish, but boy, was it worth it. I loved Bradbury for his science fiction, but this wasn't exactly sci-fi. It was completely strange, but beautiful. Like Vonnegut but without the humor. Also, I chose the pic of Spectre because the whole thing just reminded me SO MUCH of Big Fish. I highly recommend it to lit people. My math and science and logical friends would abhor it.

In other news, my Mom's been converting all of our old VHS tapes to DVD's. And may I just say: it is a DARN good thing my parents did not leave me as an only child or I would have been a MENACE to society. All the worst aspects of my personality manifested themselves in three year old pre-Michael me. It's pretty appalling. But hilarious at the same time.

Also, kudos to my parents for coming up with an extremely creative story as to why Santa Claus couldn't bring me a "magical horse" for Christmas. Apparently this was the only thing I wanted. But I wanted a REAL magical horse. Some things absolutely never change.

"We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend..."

My Mom and I came across a really cool website/organization called Anysoldier.com. It's such an incredible thing that I had to share it with you guys.

Basically, it's an organization wherein the troops can write in and request things that they need--and you'd be surprised with how little they've actually been provided. It's really neat, too, because you can give them your email address and they'll send you letters and photos and stuff if they have the time and capability. All branches of the military can write in (Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force and Coast Guard) and you can search for a troop to support using all sorts of criteria--where the troop is originally from (my Mom was insistent her group be from Florida), if they have women/men/both, what branch of the military, what they need (ie: books, hygiene products, etc.). It's pretty cool.

It's also really, really eye-opening. You know that life is going to be hard in the military, but what you don't expect is for these people to be requesting basic things like food, socks, tampons (SRSLY?? NO ONE GIVES YOU THESE??), razors, etc. These are all the things that we here just take for granted, and they have to go for MILES through land mines and sandstorms to get to their PX (the general store on bases), and even if they do go oftentimes these items are either way expensive or unavailable.
{I'm not even joking about the sandstorms and land mines. Those are legit from letters I read this morning.}

Some of the troops are 1000 strong and living in a relatively decent base with electricity, the capability to cook, televisions, etc. Others are literally three people living in a hummer and crossing the desert (I read one such letter today). It's just really...I don't know. It kind of leaves you speechless. It's certainly humbling to realize that these people are living worse off than my guinea pig, and I owe everything that I enjoy to them.

All this to say: PLEASE check out the website. Also, I'm going to have an ongoing box to fill up with stuff gradually. If you have ANYTHING you can or want to contribute, please let me know in the comments and I'll hook you up with my email address. I'll even come pick it up from you. Just please don't hesitate to let me know if you have anything you're willing to send over there.

Commonly requested items:
-Deodorant (men and women)
-Sunscreen
-Body spray (women)
-Dryer sheets
-Snacks such as dried fruit, nuts, crackers (like Goldfish and Cheezits), microwave popcorn (for those with a micro) and non-meltable candy (gummy bears, Twizzlers, etc.)
-Razors
-"Feminine products" (we all know what this means)
-Gold Bond or baby powder
-Socks (the high kind...they wear boots)
-T-shirts in all sizes
-Books
-Magazines
-Movies
-Card games (like Phase 10 or Uno)
-Stationery and envelopes
-Chap stick

Even if you guys have like A bag of popcorn, or a travel size body lotion you've used once, or a bag of razors you never opened...let me know. I'd be more than happy to come and grab it from you to throw in a box.

The other most HIGHLY requested thing is letters--they LOVE letters more than anything else. So even if you can't afford to spare any physical items, PLEASE consider getting an address and just sending some letters to these people. Or write a letter and let me know if you want me to send it over.

Anyway, this is kind of a big deal and I really think you should at least consider doing something for our troops (especially with the 4th of July coming up. COME ON.). As I've mentioned before, PLEASE comment if you have any questions, comments, or things to donate and I will get in touch with you. Thanks, generous readers!

"Instructions" for grads.

Hit "play," then read along. What better way to experience a poem than when it's read by the author? (And Neil Gaiman has a sexy British voice, so who's complaining?)


"Instructions"
by Neil Gaiman

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never

saw before.

Say "please" before you open the latch,

go through,

walk down the path.

A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted

front door,

as a knocker,

do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.

Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat

nothing.

However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,

feed it.

If it tells you that it is dirty,

clean it.

If it cries to you that it hurts,

if you can,

ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the

wild wood.

The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's

realm;

there is another land at the bottom of it.

If you turn around here,

you can walk back, safely;

you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the

wood.

The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-

growth.

Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She

may ask for something;

give it to her. She

will point the way to the castle.

Inside it are three princesses.

Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.

In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve

months sit about a fire,

warming their feet, exchanging tales.

They may do favors for you, if you are polite.

You may pick strawberries in December's frost.

Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where

you are going.

The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-

man will take you.

(The answer to his question is this:

If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to

leave the boat.

Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.

Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that

witches are often betrayed by their appetites;

dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;

hearts can be well-hidden,

and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of your sister.

Know that diamonds and roses

are as uncomfortable when they tumble from

one's lips as toads and frogs:

colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.

Remember your name.

Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.

Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped

to help you in their turn.

Trust dreams.

Trust your heart, and trust your story.

When you come back, return the way you came.

Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.

Do not forget your manners.

Do not look back.

Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).

Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).

Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is

why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your

journey started,

you will recognize it, although it will seem

much smaller than you remember.

Walk up the path, and through the garden gate

you never saw before but once.

And then go home. Or make a home.

And rest.





I think this is such a beautiful poem. I read it at Barnes and Noble a few weeks back and it's been in my mind ever since.

To all the grads out there: Congratulations on completing one of the most grueling and formative chapters in your life. The entire world is at your fingertips. Never forget that hard work and kindness really can beget all the things you've ever imagined, and then some.

And to everyone out there who's already graduated: even though the world is a hard, cruel place, there are some things worth fighting for. Never lose sight of that excitement you felt at 17 or 18. I truly believe it's never too late to harness your strength and courage and make your dreams a reality. Remember your roots, reconcile your past with your present, and walk determinedly towards the future.

Highlights of 2010.

Here are some pics of the highlights of my year in no particular order:











































Overall, not too shabby! Took a cruise, went to Ft. Myers, spent lots of time with my friends, met my online penpal (not once, not twice, but THREE times this year!), had a flood, got a new kitchen and bathroom, turned 21, and most importantly of all GOT BIXBY. :)

I hope you all had a wonderful 2010 and if not, fear not! A whole brand spanking new year lies JUST on the horizon! Have a fantastical (and safe!) New Year's Eve!!