from one roaring woman to another...

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Sickness, Roobais Tea, and the Polar Express.

Wintertime is probably my favorite time of year for multiple reasons. First, I can break out my collection of scarves numbering in the hundreds. What's wrong with wearing the same outfit everyday if you can wear a new scarf with it? Absolutely nothing, by god. Secondly, you can get lost in so many layers that your body mass index goes up to obese when you step on a scale clothed.


par example

Thirdly, oh by gosh by golly its time for jingle bells and holly! Christmas music. Sometimes it drives you crazy, to the point of eating poinsettia petals in desperation for an end. However, sometimes the jams soothe you, and really get you ready for the holidays. So attached to the music comes Christmas itself. Christmas shopping, Christmas carols, Christmas movies, Christmas sales. It's great. Let's be honest there's not even a religious stigma here anymore, because for the most part the holiday has turned into commercialistic family hour.



This makes Glenn Beck cry.

Buuuut, anyway not getting caught up in that political/religious argument, no one can deny the holiday pull towards happy warm fuzziness. Just get over it, winter is great. Skanky girls with belly button piercings and tans are freezing their body fat-less asses off, and the rest of us are snowball fighting while they complain about how much better summer is. False. Winter is clearly the best time of year.

There are some downsides however, such as colds. Colds blow. Literally, you blow your nose, you blow sneeze juice everywhere, you blow up. No one enjoys having mucus clogging every portal to the outside world your face has.



this is not a face of joy, I tell ye.

There's also holiday traffic, as if regular traffic were not frustrating enough. Also, there's pretending to enjoy presents you clearly don't when family members insist on buying you something practical that's not on your list. There's a reason for a making a list people!

Either way though, I like winter the best. Even as I snuggle under my blankets and am bed ridden due to mucous infiltration to my brain, I'm going to continue to chug gallons of tea, and think about how much I wish it were snowing.

Now, my children, let me tuck you in for the night with a little story. Recently, I was absurdly lucky to have an interesting life experience. Yes, that's correct, something not mundane and dull occurred near me, I too was shocked. I was driving home very late from a rendezvous with a mysterious and handsome man. Enjoying some soft music I was lazily making my way home when red lights reflected on my windshield. A train was approaching the tracks, setting off the rail road lights. On multiple occasions these lights have deceived me, so I rolled my windows down a pinch and looked out expecting to see nothing but empty tracks. Gingerly, the majestic nose of a freight train pulled itself into my periphery, creeping slowly across my plain of vision, until it stopped itself dead in front of my car. After about 5 minutes of staring at the beast of metal and lights, I felt unnerved, should I turn around? As if in reply to my thoughts the train creaked and bellowed itself backwards. Now I must be dreaming, a train is backing up, to let me through? A giant magnificent train is inching back to let my homely self through? As I drove away all I could think of is where is that train going next?
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Sunday, November 22, 2009

Productive Procrastination

Isn't it mind baffling the amount of other more productive things we can come up to do with before doing the one actual thing we should be doing? I'm musing about this as I am in a caffeine stupor at 11:30 at night. Suddenly, there are fifty things I didn't know I needed to do that I need to do. I sweep into action organizing small things, redecorating, and rearranging things. There's always cleaning to do when there's a paper on hand. What is it that drives us to waste our time so productively instead of cutting to the chase? I could just be playing DS and watching TV at this point as well, yet I continue to upload CDs onto Itunes, rearrange my class folders, update my check book, and do a myriad of other busy tasks. Perhaps, its the ability to feel like we're “doing something” which translates directly into “bullshitting” to ourselves. And all the while the laundry spins... to clean or not to clean, that is the question.
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