I have never considered myself a small town girl.
I was born in Baltimore. That's real city, with millions of people.
We moved to just outside Washington, DC when I was little. That's again, a real city. There are people everywhere--in fact, although DC itself isn't very big, that's the best way to describe where we lived, since nobody's ever heard of Cheverly, MD.
When I was 6, or maybe 7, we moved to a suburb of Boulder, CO. Shortly after that, we moved to a suburb of Denver. There are millions of people in the Denver Metro Area--more than the whole state of New Mexico, I believe.
And then in high school I landed in Podunk. A town of 18,000. The nearest city doesn't even have a million people in it. I think the whole state has under 3 million. And I prided myself on being from a city. I hate the outdoors--I'd rather be inside a mall. I don't find nature relaxing; I find it dirty. I don't get joy at standing on top of a mountain; I get more joy yelling at the stupid drivers in bumper to bumper rush hour traffic (and I have actually driven in Baltimore and Denver and multiple other cities in such traffic, since we know NM will never see the likes of that!).
I always dreamed of returning to a big city to live. Well, I wanted to be in the suburbs, not the city proper. That is, until we went to Albuquerque yesterday for a doctor appointment, and had to experience the joys of parking garages with no parking and parking lots with no empty spaces. I couldn't believe how many people there were in all the spots. We ended up parking against the wall in the parking garage, so close that I got to climb over the center console and out the driver side. We figured since other vehicles were doing the same, perhaps we'd catch the tow truck on one of the other cars and could escape before we got towed.
And now I don't think I want to live in a place where there's no parking. And I'm afraid that maybe I'm destined to be a small town girl, and the city girl part of me has moved on.
I suppose I should be grateful that I don't know of a place here where parking has to be validated, so I guess nowhere in NM can't be THAT big.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
PhD. in Frustration
So you wander into work a whopping 2 minutes before your shift begins. I've had one of the longest shifts known to mankind, thanks to a major power outage with temperatures dropping below 9 degrees and a million old folks living in a tiny community. I'm dying to go home--one more call about what am I going to do to fix the temperatures/turn on the power/open an emergency shelter/handle other calls to those who are stupid enough not to know that half the town is without power and therefore all the pipes in the powerless part of town are about to freeze and nobody will make it through the night due to the cold, and I'm going to tell everyone just how much I really DO NOT CARE about their problems unless their lives are in serious immediate danger. I have spent hours holding hands, reassuring the elderly that we love them (and I normally do), trying to interpret weather forecasts, being yelled at by almost every citizen because I'm not the electrician myself, fighting with the utility company about how long this will last, arguing with the Emergency Management Coordinator about what his job entails, and preparing for emergency shelters and door to door evacuations of around 10 streets and up to 100 homes, just to have the night end with you meandering through the door sighing like your life sucks.
You stare at me as I answer another call for service at the exact minute your arse is supposed to be in the seat answering the phone, but since you didn't show up in time for me to log off, I'm the only one who can answer the bleeping phone. You can't believe I won't get out of your way. I finish the call, dispatch an officer, and try to brief you.
You announce that you don't know what I'm talking about, and then ask questions that had you a)shown up in time to be briefed or b)listened as I briefed you (in between phone calls, radio traffic, and trying to get out of your way), you'd know the bleeping answer to without me having to repeat everything twice.
You throw a fit because you and I are scheduled for training 6 weeks from now and may have to share a hotel room--not a bleeping bed, but a freaking ROOM--for 1 night and threaten not to go to the training. I want to say "good, don't go." You then proceed to tell me that I don't know when MY licenses expire or when MY certifications are in danger when you're the moron without a clue. I've been the blasted one in charge with keeping track of everyone's licenses, certificates, schedules, OT, training. I'm not an idiot. We're ranked the same. You are no better than me. I know my crap forwards and backwards and inside out. In fact, the mere fact that you apparently are threatened that I MIGHT know more than you should indicate to you that I'm not an idiot.
And you wonder why I understand when other people get frustrated with you? Holy crap. This isn't rocket science. But if it were, today I'd say I earned my PhD.
You stare at me as I answer another call for service at the exact minute your arse is supposed to be in the seat answering the phone, but since you didn't show up in time for me to log off, I'm the only one who can answer the bleeping phone. You can't believe I won't get out of your way. I finish the call, dispatch an officer, and try to brief you.
You announce that you don't know what I'm talking about, and then ask questions that had you a)shown up in time to be briefed or b)listened as I briefed you (in between phone calls, radio traffic, and trying to get out of your way), you'd know the bleeping answer to without me having to repeat everything twice.
You throw a fit because you and I are scheduled for training 6 weeks from now and may have to share a hotel room--not a bleeping bed, but a freaking ROOM--for 1 night and threaten not to go to the training. I want to say "good, don't go." You then proceed to tell me that I don't know when MY licenses expire or when MY certifications are in danger when you're the moron without a clue. I've been the blasted one in charge with keeping track of everyone's licenses, certificates, schedules, OT, training. I'm not an idiot. We're ranked the same. You are no better than me. I know my crap forwards and backwards and inside out. In fact, the mere fact that you apparently are threatened that I MIGHT know more than you should indicate to you that I'm not an idiot.
And you wonder why I understand when other people get frustrated with you? Holy crap. This isn't rocket science. But if it were, today I'd say I earned my PhD.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Hanging Like Mistletoe That's STILL Out
I realize I left you hanging with the woeful tales that make up my holidays :)
Okay, so Christmas ended up better than I thought. The in-laws were surprisingly...nice? Fairly friendly? Not so egotistical? I'm not quite sure the words to describe it.
"We" got up--and by that I mean I got Hubby out of bed at 0700 like a child, because, let's face it, I'd been up for hours by myself, working myself into a tizzy over the drama I was sure would ensue. So after a hundred rounds of "are you sure I can go with you to your parents at 1000?," I got my rear end in the car, and we went. Sure enough, there was a place set for me at the table--although I had been convinced that they would be shocked to see me there. We had a nice breakfast, opened gifts, and played games. It was very mellow, especially for an in-law gathering. And that was all I saw of them...and possibly all I see of them until next Christmas. No joke. Hubby had all the time off from Christmas through New Year's Day, and he saw them every day while siblings-in-law were here, and that seemed to satisfy him. He's actually going up to in-laws' house today to work on the car, so he's seeing them before Christmas '08 :)
I haven't really had time to digest the holidays, but obviously I'm in a better mood, despite working every stinking day (ok, so I did get a whole 30 hours off last weekend) and being icky-sicky for the past week plus. However, DT-day is approaching this weekend, and that's when I consider the holidays truly over.
DT-day is of course Downing the Tree day. It's when I force myself to locate all the ornament packages and storage containers and strip the tree of it's glory until next Thanksgiving. We have a new tree this year, so we no longer have to take down the lights. And we bought new ornaments and gave away lots of old ones, so there's not supposed to be as many. The tree comes down on the 12th day of Christmas, unless I can come up with a better excuse to be lazy. One year I got lucky and Hubby did it all for me...but to let that happen again--that would be wrong, right?
Okay, so Christmas ended up better than I thought. The in-laws were surprisingly...nice? Fairly friendly? Not so egotistical? I'm not quite sure the words to describe it.
"We" got up--and by that I mean I got Hubby out of bed at 0700 like a child, because, let's face it, I'd been up for hours by myself, working myself into a tizzy over the drama I was sure would ensue. So after a hundred rounds of "are you sure I can go with you to your parents at 1000?," I got my rear end in the car, and we went. Sure enough, there was a place set for me at the table--although I had been convinced that they would be shocked to see me there. We had a nice breakfast, opened gifts, and played games. It was very mellow, especially for an in-law gathering. And that was all I saw of them...and possibly all I see of them until next Christmas. No joke. Hubby had all the time off from Christmas through New Year's Day, and he saw them every day while siblings-in-law were here, and that seemed to satisfy him. He's actually going up to in-laws' house today to work on the car, so he's seeing them before Christmas '08 :)
I haven't really had time to digest the holidays, but obviously I'm in a better mood, despite working every stinking day (ok, so I did get a whole 30 hours off last weekend) and being icky-sicky for the past week plus. However, DT-day is approaching this weekend, and that's when I consider the holidays truly over.
DT-day is of course Downing the Tree day. It's when I force myself to locate all the ornament packages and storage containers and strip the tree of it's glory until next Thanksgiving. We have a new tree this year, so we no longer have to take down the lights. And we bought new ornaments and gave away lots of old ones, so there's not supposed to be as many. The tree comes down on the 12th day of Christmas, unless I can come up with a better excuse to be lazy. One year I got lucky and Hubby did it all for me...but to let that happen again--that would be wrong, right?
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Bah-Humbug
It's 0200 on Christmas morning, and I'm feeling like Scrooge still.
So we all know I work graveyards, and my regular schedule is Tuesday through Friday nights. I sleep for hours when I'm not at work so that I don't totally screw up my system. This weekend, though, I made an effort to screw up my system just so that this morning, Christmas, I could go and be with people that don't like me.
To put it mildly, my in-laws don't particularly care for me. I don't think I ever cross their minds, other than when it's the holidays and they realize that they have to tolerate me for a couple of hours. Hubby and I have been married for 7 years, and we were together for just over 2 years prior to getting married, so there's 9 years of resentment on my behalf. In-laws say things that I find rude and disrespectful to Hubby, and it makes me mad (things about him not having a real job and therefore he'd never understand travelling for work--this was like 6 years ago, and it still makes me mad). In-laws tell private jokes around me and don't include me--and since we only see them once a year or so (despite the fact that we live less than a mile away from them), it's hard to learn the jokes when you're having to guess at them. In-laws make comments about me not having a college degree, and therefore I'm stupid or wasting my life--never mind that I was the responsible one with a full time job and a home owner at 19; nor the fact that I'm the only one out of my sibling-in-laws and even Hubby that has never lost a job.
Hubby and I had a really rough couple of years, and even separated for a while. Of course, according to in-laws, it was my fault--and they even knew most of the story. That Christmas, Hubby was invited to go to Colorado to be with them, but I wasn't--although we were trying to work on our marriage, and we were still married. I haven't seen the in-laws for more than say a half hour since we were separated, and it's been a couple of years now. But I'm sure I'm the paranoid one and it's not that they hate me.
So anyway, this year, we were supposed to go to Colorado for Christmas. We weren't invited, it's more like Hubby told his mom that I got the time off and we were planning to join them up there for the holidays. I did get the time off, and they moved Christmas back here. I then sort of felt guilty for taking the week off, and we lost someone at work, and I was assigned a trainee that would have had to just sit there all week long, so I agreed to give up my leave and work all week. Trouble began to rear its ugly head when I remembered that in-laws celebrate on Christmas morning...and I ended up with extra hours at work on top of my regularly scheduled 40 hours.
Hubby asked in-laws if this year we could have brunch and I would be up and functioning by 1100. In-laws called yesterday to say that they were having brunch at 1000 and Hubby said he'd be there. Is it me or is this really like a rude gesture? What the heck is wrong with waiting one more hour? I seriously am offended. And what's wrong with Hubby that he didn't say to them, gee too bad--Kate and I will be there at 1100 like I told you we could be. Hubby tells me that this is much later than they wanted it to be--and I told Hubby that he should have just told them to do whatever they really wanted since one hour obviously meant the world to them. Considering that I am the one that's responsible for providing police/fire/EMS to the whole freaking community, I don't think it's wrong of me to want to have at least 5 hours of sleep in me before going in to work for a 12 hour shift. I think it would be incredibly irresponsible and WRONG to not sleep and then I put the community--and much more importantly, my officers and firefighters--in harms way when I'm falling asleep at work and am sluggish.
So I have spent this whole weekend trying to readjust to day time, which is futile. I was awake all night long on Saturday night, and went to sleep around 0700. Then Sunday night I was awake all night long and went to sleep around 0800. And I spent most of yesterday in bed, sleeping until 1600 and then falling back asleep at 0900--and so now it's 0200 and I'm wide awake. I have to work tonight from 1830 until tomorrow morning at 0630, and I'm thinking things don't look good. There's not enough energy drinks in the world to propel me through 26 hours of life and to keep me a reasonable human being.
And now there's the whole in-law dilemma. They got their way of keeping me out by having the blasted brunch earlier than I said I could be there--and Hubby told them I wouldn't actually come until after noonish--but if I'm awake, can I really let Hubby go without me so I can sulk for a couple of hours? Or do I go to show them? Do I go and leave right after to go home to bed? We're supposed to go to my parents' house around 1630 for presents and dinner before I go to work--a place that we're both welcome and always have been welcome even in the midst of crap--and I'd much rather just go there and skip the in-laws. Who wants to go somewhere they're not welcome and are treated poorly when they could be at a comforting place?
And who says that Christmas has to be spent with family anyway?
So we all know I work graveyards, and my regular schedule is Tuesday through Friday nights. I sleep for hours when I'm not at work so that I don't totally screw up my system. This weekend, though, I made an effort to screw up my system just so that this morning, Christmas, I could go and be with people that don't like me.
To put it mildly, my in-laws don't particularly care for me. I don't think I ever cross their minds, other than when it's the holidays and they realize that they have to tolerate me for a couple of hours. Hubby and I have been married for 7 years, and we were together for just over 2 years prior to getting married, so there's 9 years of resentment on my behalf. In-laws say things that I find rude and disrespectful to Hubby, and it makes me mad (things about him not having a real job and therefore he'd never understand travelling for work--this was like 6 years ago, and it still makes me mad). In-laws tell private jokes around me and don't include me--and since we only see them once a year or so (despite the fact that we live less than a mile away from them), it's hard to learn the jokes when you're having to guess at them. In-laws make comments about me not having a college degree, and therefore I'm stupid or wasting my life--never mind that I was the responsible one with a full time job and a home owner at 19; nor the fact that I'm the only one out of my sibling-in-laws and even Hubby that has never lost a job.
Hubby and I had a really rough couple of years, and even separated for a while. Of course, according to in-laws, it was my fault--and they even knew most of the story. That Christmas, Hubby was invited to go to Colorado to be with them, but I wasn't--although we were trying to work on our marriage, and we were still married. I haven't seen the in-laws for more than say a half hour since we were separated, and it's been a couple of years now. But I'm sure I'm the paranoid one and it's not that they hate me.
So anyway, this year, we were supposed to go to Colorado for Christmas. We weren't invited, it's more like Hubby told his mom that I got the time off and we were planning to join them up there for the holidays. I did get the time off, and they moved Christmas back here. I then sort of felt guilty for taking the week off, and we lost someone at work, and I was assigned a trainee that would have had to just sit there all week long, so I agreed to give up my leave and work all week. Trouble began to rear its ugly head when I remembered that in-laws celebrate on Christmas morning...and I ended up with extra hours at work on top of my regularly scheduled 40 hours.
Hubby asked in-laws if this year we could have brunch and I would be up and functioning by 1100. In-laws called yesterday to say that they were having brunch at 1000 and Hubby said he'd be there. Is it me or is this really like a rude gesture? What the heck is wrong with waiting one more hour? I seriously am offended. And what's wrong with Hubby that he didn't say to them, gee too bad--Kate and I will be there at 1100 like I told you we could be. Hubby tells me that this is much later than they wanted it to be--and I told Hubby that he should have just told them to do whatever they really wanted since one hour obviously meant the world to them. Considering that I am the one that's responsible for providing police/fire/EMS to the whole freaking community, I don't think it's wrong of me to want to have at least 5 hours of sleep in me before going in to work for a 12 hour shift. I think it would be incredibly irresponsible and WRONG to not sleep and then I put the community--and much more importantly, my officers and firefighters--in harms way when I'm falling asleep at work and am sluggish.
So I have spent this whole weekend trying to readjust to day time, which is futile. I was awake all night long on Saturday night, and went to sleep around 0700. Then Sunday night I was awake all night long and went to sleep around 0800. And I spent most of yesterday in bed, sleeping until 1600 and then falling back asleep at 0900--and so now it's 0200 and I'm wide awake. I have to work tonight from 1830 until tomorrow morning at 0630, and I'm thinking things don't look good. There's not enough energy drinks in the world to propel me through 26 hours of life and to keep me a reasonable human being.
And now there's the whole in-law dilemma. They got their way of keeping me out by having the blasted brunch earlier than I said I could be there--and Hubby told them I wouldn't actually come until after noonish--but if I'm awake, can I really let Hubby go without me so I can sulk for a couple of hours? Or do I go to show them? Do I go and leave right after to go home to bed? We're supposed to go to my parents' house around 1630 for presents and dinner before I go to work--a place that we're both welcome and always have been welcome even in the midst of crap--and I'd much rather just go there and skip the in-laws. Who wants to go somewhere they're not welcome and are treated poorly when they could be at a comforting place?
And who says that Christmas has to be spent with family anyway?
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Holiday Spirit
You know how people are always saying "in the spirit of Christmas" or something of the sort? Here's my horrid thoughts on it this year.
We took my parents to see "Christmas in Dublin," a show in Albuquerque that was to feature the Three Irish Tenors, the Irish Divas and maybe something else...I can't really remember any more. The day started with the long drive down, which we did separately because I of course had to go into work immediately following the show (although it was my day off--this is an increasingly common theme). This meant that we had to go to lunch with the 'rents instead of dinner with them, and we didn't get to invite my brother to join us because lunch is WAY before his waking hour. So we go to lunch (I of course have had 2.5 hours of sleep because I worked extra the day before), and then we head off to the parking structure. My parents drive a bug...a little electric blue Volkswagen. They were directly behind us. Hubby zips into a parking space, and Dad takes the bug the other direction and throws it into reverse to back into a spot one up from us. As the reverse lights come on the bug, a huge donkey (of course that's not really the word I want to use to describe him) in a large sedan pulls up and goes into the spot that Dad was beginning to back up into. Never mind that all over the parking structure, other New Mexicans with an ounce of common courtesy are waiting for other vehicles to back into the parking spaces as Dad was intending to do because it makes it much faster when it's time to filter out of the spot if you can just pull out into the line. Anyway, Hubby has gone to get the tickets from the office, and Donkey says to me "Wonder who gave that guy his license" referring to Dad who is now trying to back up into the spot next to the large sedan Donkey has parked ONE THE WHITE LINE (and that drives me nuts--even if Donkey hadn't already just shown terrible driver etiquette, he would have teed me off with the parking on the white line). So I say sweetly to Donkey "THAT man is my father, and he was reversing into the spot you just raced into." Donkey doesn't even look ashamed. Donkey's wife is trying to unload Grandma out of the back seat with the door flung open into the spot Dad is now trying to back into. Donkey's wife is glancing at Donkey and I and shaking her head as if the whole dilemma is Dad's fault. Here's another thought--we were like 35+ minutes before the show even was scheduled to start. It's not like an extra 5 minutes would have made anyone late for the show.
The other issue is that my family motto is "don't get mad; get even," so Dad comes raring out of the bug (he's 6'2 and I'd guess around 350 lbs., so take a minute to picture this climbing out of a bug) and is ready to charge the Donkey and his family. I too am mad, but then it occurs to me that Grandma had a walker and we have handicapped seating inside the theater, and what if we now have to sit next to Donkey? I was in total fear of this possibility--but that didn't happen. What was the point of holding onto the anger really? Everybody attending had spent good money for the show, it was about Christmas, and it was lovely. I guess the whole incident had me thinking that common sense and courtesy has totally escaped the world and I don't know why. And I'm having a hard enough time feeling the love of the season (let me be clear--I love the Reason for the season, and I know He loves me and I'm not doubting that--I'm doubting the rest of humanity) without spending my fun family holiday time with a Donkey and his attitude.
Of course my terrible thoughts about the holiday spirit are that really the world has changed more into what can I get and not celebrating the birth of my Savior. I'm almost over the Santa Claus thing--I think he's pretty cute, and while my children will never wait for gifts from him or sit with him, he can be a fun thing like the Coke Polar Bears are a fun thing. To me, Christmas is about 1st) the birth of Christ; 2nd) time with family and friends; and 3rd) Christmas letters and cards.
I love getting Christmas letters because let's be honest, I like to see what everybody else has been up to, and these letters are the perfect brag time. There's almost always a common theme, and when I write a letter/posting, I feel that I have to do the same thing. Sentences are always such as the "We traveled the whole world twice and are ready to embark on our third trip"; "we've adopted a third world child and have singlehandedly rebuilt a village in her honor;" "little James has completed college at the age of 4 and is beginning medical school next year;" "we have built our new home and it is called the Taj Mahal III;" "Hubby has promoted so much that he's now known as Lord and Master instead of just Hubby at work;" and pictures of everybody's too cute for words children are always included. I love to see the children--I've always loved kids. I love to hear that others are achieving their goals and that it's been a good year for them. I joke with my mom that I may just borrow a line from everyone else's Christmas letter and send it out as my own, because I think my life is truly too boring to be relayed. If I had kids, maybe I'd have more fun stories. I don't know. In all honesty, when I start to write a letter, it occurs to me that there is so much else that we should have been focusing on throughout the year, and ways that we should have been spending our time, and then I get bummed, and then slowly and surely the spirit sneaks out of me bit by bit.
You wouldn't know that this is my favorite time of year by the way I've been feeling/acting this year. I guess this post is a definite example of that. I've been assured by many of my officers that the best way to get into the holiday spirit is with "spirits" (you know, Jack and Jim), but I'm hoping that it's more like when I see my family and friends, the true meaning of Christmas will wrap me up and propel me to a happier mood. And I hope it also promotes a better attitude towards Hubby's family that in going on 10 years with Hubby I've been yet to find. If it doesn't, you'll see a spirit of fire about me on the 26th :)
Happy Holidays!
We took my parents to see "Christmas in Dublin," a show in Albuquerque that was to feature the Three Irish Tenors, the Irish Divas and maybe something else...I can't really remember any more. The day started with the long drive down, which we did separately because I of course had to go into work immediately following the show (although it was my day off--this is an increasingly common theme). This meant that we had to go to lunch with the 'rents instead of dinner with them, and we didn't get to invite my brother to join us because lunch is WAY before his waking hour. So we go to lunch (I of course have had 2.5 hours of sleep because I worked extra the day before), and then we head off to the parking structure. My parents drive a bug...a little electric blue Volkswagen. They were directly behind us. Hubby zips into a parking space, and Dad takes the bug the other direction and throws it into reverse to back into a spot one up from us. As the reverse lights come on the bug, a huge donkey (of course that's not really the word I want to use to describe him) in a large sedan pulls up and goes into the spot that Dad was beginning to back up into. Never mind that all over the parking structure, other New Mexicans with an ounce of common courtesy are waiting for other vehicles to back into the parking spaces as Dad was intending to do because it makes it much faster when it's time to filter out of the spot if you can just pull out into the line. Anyway, Hubby has gone to get the tickets from the office, and Donkey says to me "Wonder who gave that guy his license" referring to Dad who is now trying to back up into the spot next to the large sedan Donkey has parked ONE THE WHITE LINE (and that drives me nuts--even if Donkey hadn't already just shown terrible driver etiquette, he would have teed me off with the parking on the white line). So I say sweetly to Donkey "THAT man is my father, and he was reversing into the spot you just raced into." Donkey doesn't even look ashamed. Donkey's wife is trying to unload Grandma out of the back seat with the door flung open into the spot Dad is now trying to back into. Donkey's wife is glancing at Donkey and I and shaking her head as if the whole dilemma is Dad's fault. Here's another thought--we were like 35+ minutes before the show even was scheduled to start. It's not like an extra 5 minutes would have made anyone late for the show.
The other issue is that my family motto is "don't get mad; get even," so Dad comes raring out of the bug (he's 6'2 and I'd guess around 350 lbs., so take a minute to picture this climbing out of a bug) and is ready to charge the Donkey and his family. I too am mad, but then it occurs to me that Grandma had a walker and we have handicapped seating inside the theater, and what if we now have to sit next to Donkey? I was in total fear of this possibility--but that didn't happen. What was the point of holding onto the anger really? Everybody attending had spent good money for the show, it was about Christmas, and it was lovely. I guess the whole incident had me thinking that common sense and courtesy has totally escaped the world and I don't know why. And I'm having a hard enough time feeling the love of the season (let me be clear--I love the Reason for the season, and I know He loves me and I'm not doubting that--I'm doubting the rest of humanity) without spending my fun family holiday time with a Donkey and his attitude.
Of course my terrible thoughts about the holiday spirit are that really the world has changed more into what can I get and not celebrating the birth of my Savior. I'm almost over the Santa Claus thing--I think he's pretty cute, and while my children will never wait for gifts from him or sit with him, he can be a fun thing like the Coke Polar Bears are a fun thing. To me, Christmas is about 1st) the birth of Christ; 2nd) time with family and friends; and 3rd) Christmas letters and cards.
I love getting Christmas letters because let's be honest, I like to see what everybody else has been up to, and these letters are the perfect brag time. There's almost always a common theme, and when I write a letter/posting, I feel that I have to do the same thing. Sentences are always such as the "We traveled the whole world twice and are ready to embark on our third trip"; "we've adopted a third world child and have singlehandedly rebuilt a village in her honor;" "little James has completed college at the age of 4 and is beginning medical school next year;" "we have built our new home and it is called the Taj Mahal III;" "Hubby has promoted so much that he's now known as Lord and Master instead of just Hubby at work;" and pictures of everybody's too cute for words children are always included. I love to see the children--I've always loved kids. I love to hear that others are achieving their goals and that it's been a good year for them. I joke with my mom that I may just borrow a line from everyone else's Christmas letter and send it out as my own, because I think my life is truly too boring to be relayed. If I had kids, maybe I'd have more fun stories. I don't know. In all honesty, when I start to write a letter, it occurs to me that there is so much else that we should have been focusing on throughout the year, and ways that we should have been spending our time, and then I get bummed, and then slowly and surely the spirit sneaks out of me bit by bit.
You wouldn't know that this is my favorite time of year by the way I've been feeling/acting this year. I guess this post is a definite example of that. I've been assured by many of my officers that the best way to get into the holiday spirit is with "spirits" (you know, Jack and Jim), but I'm hoping that it's more like when I see my family and friends, the true meaning of Christmas will wrap me up and propel me to a happier mood. And I hope it also promotes a better attitude towards Hubby's family that in going on 10 years with Hubby I've been yet to find. If it doesn't, you'll see a spirit of fire about me on the 26th :)
Happy Holidays!
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