Mega Family Pack, $5 Off!

So I made it home. My plane left at 6am Christmas Day, I got in a bit past noon, nothing was delayed, but seeing as how I arrived home on the Day of Days, and was thus expected to play and love and frolick and Christmas along with the rest of the fam. So I did, and it was lovely. Low-key, but lovely. Everyone was delightful.

I was supposed to sleep on the air mattress in the big bedroom downstairs, but that has a hole in it. Instead I slept on the couch downstairs. So it goes. While I slept, everyone else woke up, had breakfast and lunch, did some vacuuming, moved the other couch around looking for a lost wallet, went shopping, showered, did laundry, watched an entire movie, and probably practiced a synchronized dance routine for all I know. I slept long and hard and fitfully, and when I woke up, my back was killing me and I had one hell of a headache. So it goes.

Today, I went to Half Price Books, one of my most favorite stores in the world, used my gift card Christmas present, since there aren't any stores near Provo, and eventually ended up at Dino's, a Greek fast food place behind my house. Even though it wasn't Sunday, the nice lady at the counter gave me and Chris the Sunday Special at the Sunday Special Price, and so we got 6 pita breads, 1 pound of lamb cuts, some tomatoes and onions, a large Greek salad, and 2 boats of fries for $21. Awesome. Look at Chris's face: pure joy.

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Wintertime Winds Blow Cold the Season

Well, blog readership of mine, I am in a sour mood today. There are plenty of reasons for this--like waking myself up multiple times last night by sneezing--and plenty of repercussions, too. Namely, I have ashamedly been enjoying talking a lot of shit about quite a few people.* And about quite a few people more, I have been (not uncharacteristically) blunt (but uncharacteristically to the point where it's just downright rude). Which only makes me feel worse. For example, if someone of whom I am not particularly fond were to ask me what I think of them, there is a very great chance that I might say something along the lines of, "You are a bossy, controlling bitch who puts her nose into other people's business and you are constantly trying to exceed to go beyond the scope of your job description to the point where someone could sue the hospital over your unwarranted behavior. You try to one-up everyone around you, and you will not hesitate in bringing other people down in order to make yourself look better to the bosses." That is almost a quote taken from almost reality. If, though, you consider, for instance, the brain processes required to create thought but not to voice those thoughts to in fact be reality, then you can remove that second almost.

*: Don't worry, they deserve it. Or, at least, I consider these people worthy of my disdain.

Now, I do not wish to make my blogship feel uncomfortable by this. Rest assured, Dear Friends, that because I consider you (or I would figure, at least the vast majority of you since I have no exact stats on who frequents this internet address) Friends Indeed, and therefore I would not speak ill of you. Of this I affirm with an Oath. This Oath goes something like this:

I do not shit-talk my friends.

It's pretty simple, but it gets the job done. Having said that, I must confess that I cannot pinpoint the source of my dour spirits. Is it the oppressive cold? The complete lack of other human beings in my house? The anxiety of an upcoming vacation? The drudgery of a State job? This incessant sniffling and nose-blowing? Who knows, mayhap my planets are simply out of line. In that case, I yell to the Universe with all the Powers I possess,

Fuck you, Planets! Fix this shit right now, damnit!

Because seriously, I am getting tired of this real quick. Why can't everyone be happy and warm-weathery-feeling again? A firm believer in SAD (not SADD, though, because mostly their parents put them up to joining that, I would presume, and just like Boy Scouts, most things your parents force you to join are complete bullshit to those forced), and a firm believer in the fact that I do not have it, I just hate being constantly chilled virtually everywhere I go, I would hope that this pervasive testiness--noticeable in many of the people I associate with and even casually run into, like the cashier at the gas station--will disappear in the birthing dawn of the New Year. This way, everyone can be happy for my birthday before another panoptic malaise can set in. Is it a foolish sin to wish for everyone to be happy for just one damn day?

Gear Change: let's take it back from the world-encompassing fifth and drop back into second or so. On a fairly rapid basis, I seem to be cycling in my opinion of this God-blessed-God-damned city between "oh, it's not that bad" and feeling like those girls that jumped from the 10th floor of the Triangle Shirtwaist Company building, the actual, suffocating fire exchanged for the constructed-yet-still-suffocating fire of the very atmosphere of Provo.
Not that I would actually jump from the heights of any building or try to snuff myself out by any means, but I can empathize with those ladies' desperation to escape a lethal situation. To those of the Provo Diaspora, then, I tip my hat and salute you in congratulations, and I assure you, Comrades, that I will be joining your ranks soon. I do not completely disparage my time here in the shadow of Prophet Young, however: Provo has given me the love of my life, a squad of dearly beloved friends, a bachelor's degree, and an invaluable disillusionment/disenchantment experience. For which I am all grateful. Without which I surely would have gone insane.

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Thingsssssssssss

I realized the last time I posted, it was my little sister's birthday. I did not forget that her birthday was coming up, I just always think it's on the 10th, not the 1st, of December. Fear not, though, I called her up and told her happy birthday, and because she is only 9, I am hoping that she was not able to pick up on the fact that I had forgotten the exact day. However, I did not forget to get her a present, which is a cute red-and-white leather case for her Nintendo DS, which happens to be her most favorite toy. Can't blame her: when my grandma* gave me one of those original, brick-sized Gameboys when I was nine, I was g-l-u-e-d to it and Super Mario Land and Mortal Kombat. Also, we are celebrating Stephanie's birthday tomorrow (including a piñata! Because she's Mexican!). Also, I saw on the facebook that one of the Dead Ones had a birthday today, and so for her birthday, I removed her from my friends. The beginnings of a dark orange ball of hate almost start to well up every time she does something that makes it to the News Feed. But that is beside the point.

* This grandma, Lily Martha, is my mom's mom, who recently received some bad news in the cancer department. I was debating whether or not to share that, but I think that it is indeed appropriate, not because it is an attempt to garner attention via pity (rest assured, it most definitely not that), but rather because the people that read this blog are some of my most beloved friends.

Today is also International Human Rights Day. What a glorious thing to be celebrating! Human rights are great. I firmly believe that the human race is a most extraordinary thing, capable of great good and caring and love and understanding. I sincerely hope the best of humanity, and for humanity. I would continue here with a thoughtful, witty, and heartfelt discourse on human rights that could very well touch the souls of many, but unfortunately, tonight my heart is not in it.

Over the past few days, say, starting on the 1st, when I found out about Lily Martha, I have literally been wrung through the wash of every single possible emotion (except hatred--I don't really do that one, even though I sometimes say that I hate people. Hate is something so ugly that I don't want to touch it), and it has left me exhausted. Add to that running the gamut of graduate school applications, and you can imagine the state I'm in. Thankfully, I have a weekend to recharge, cleanse, refresh, and decompress. Hopefully I can do all four.

My boss, the UND, has come in solid for me. She has finagled a way to get me from Christmas to the 30th off, allowing me to take a trip back out to the Middle West and see some family(ies). Oh, to escape the vortex of Utah Valley: a happy thing indeed. Seriously. Right now, as I am writing this, I am almost shaking. I need a vacation. And, I will be able to spend Christmas Day with my siblings, which I haven't gotten to do for 2 years. That will be nice. Having to work New Year's Eve and then a double on New Years Day won't be too peachy, but I'll take the trade any year.

Now, to the nitty gritty, the heart and soul of what I aim to say right here, right now. Are you ready? You better be.

I feel like I am in a place in my life, at a time in my life, where I am finally starting to figure things out, where things are finally starting to fall into place. This hasn't been an issue so much in the past, because nothing really has been going on. I'll explain: my undergraduate education was a process that I was planning on, and also one that, once started, I knew would take a few years to accomplish, see to the end. Those few years have now expired and I have the degree to prove it. My mission was another thing: an unstoppable two-year process, that, once started, I was determined to see through to the end, and to enjoy myself while doing it. Now that, too, is over, and has been for more than two years. Relationship-wise, previous to dating the marvelous Miss Vaggalis, friends and dating partners sort of came and went in a more or less fluid process. Now, friendships and relationships seem to be coalescing into -ships more certain, more solid, as if it has taken me quite a while to find the groups and people whom I will love and friend always. Which brings me to my current place: I am filling out the applications that will let me into the schooling I need-want to achieve the career I have chosen and want and love. I have found the woman I love and adore so deeply that I never want to leave, and who I never want to leave me. While I still have a lot of things, internally and externally, to deal with and process and figure out and ultimately decide, I definitely have the feeling that I am moving in the right direction.

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This Just Happened

12:16pm, Tuesday, 1 December 2009

Event:
ME: Yeah, I'd like a Caesar Side Salad.
WENDY'S MAN: Okay, would you like ranch with that?
ME: Um, no. Caesar. It's the Caesar Side Salad.
WENDY'S MAN: Fine. I'll have your total at the first window.

Commentary:
When your sole job responsibility is to listen to people's orders then grab what they want out of the fridge, I would think--nay, hope--that you would in fact be listening. And then, when should you by chance get the order wrong when you repeat it back, I would also hope that you wouldn't get a fucking attitude with me, you prick.

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