Holiday highlights

I think it'll be a lot easier for everyone if I attempt to do this in an abbreviated version we can all appreciate- with pictures.

• As you may or may not know, my car died, but I think I may have a new (to me) one:

It looks black, but the color is actually "evergreen mica".

• I met up with several good friends:

We like delicious dairy treats.

They have Disney eyes.

• I also had the opportunity to exchange presents with friends and family:

Kate is a straight up delight and I will throw 
down with anyone who says differently.

The cover of that book says, "Grandma's dead."  Grandma, by the way, was sitting to his right.

• Finally, Lisa (also known as the Blonde Blogette) and I traveled to Chicago to see the best musical of 2008:

IN THE HEIGHTS

Actually, the story of how Lisa and I got to Chicago is rather entertaining, but I'll save that for another time.

That's what I've been doing for the last two weeks.

So- what's up with you?

P.S. I need a name for my car.  Aaaand..... GO.

What? Sexy? You are, shut up.

Welcome, my little chinchillas!

If you are here from SITS, thank you for visiting on this momentous occasion.

For those of you non-SITS affiliated, I have the honor of being today's featured blogger.  In simpler terms, I'm important today and I invite you all to bask in my radiance.

Allow myself to introduce... myself.

I am a grad student in North Carolina but primarily hail from Indiana.  I like Thai food, pajamas, books, black coffee, Ella Fitzgerald and pie.

I'm generally good-natured and low-key, but I do fancy a good rant, accompanied by some less than exemplary behavior.  However, I have created rules for just such an event:

Throwing things always seems like a good idea at the time...

I also find it terribly cathartic to make confessions to the world wide interweb:


Time to come out of the non-gay closet!

And what would be the point of all this without a night at the theater?:


Oh, Mr. Bones, that's terrible!


In conclusion, I prefer to see the humor, irony or straight up stupidity in life.  If you're looking for inspirational messages or heartfelt anecdotes, I don't really get up into that cookie.

I do, however, have a tendency to swear.  In the spirit of SITS, however, I'm being good today.

You don't believe me?  See below.

Seriously.  Maybe you really should check your donkey door.

Son of a Nutcracker!

I don't know if I've made this clear, but I am a Fanilow.

Not familiar with the term?

Well, first of all, shame on you.

Second, isn't it obvious?  I am a fan of the Manilow.  FANILOW.

For my money, he really does write the songs that make the whole world sing.

However, I caught a glimpse of him on the Today show this week, and boy howdy, does he look like he's been saran wrapped.

Even better, I found this fantastic video of him singing Rick Astley's hit, "Never Gonna Give You Up".

He can still sing, bless him, but it looks like he can't really move his face.

(The Man won't let me post it on here, so if you're so inclined, please observe.)

What really disturbs me is that the older he gets, the more he looks like Anne Murray.  Lookit:

 

Which one is which?

You tell me.











On another note, I have given in to the holiday spirit.

My roommates and I got our tree yesterday.  The whole experience was far less romantic than I imagined.

In this part of North Carolina, we grow us some pretty bitchin' trees as it turns out.

Look!  Nature!

We tromped around the grounds of one such place, assessing height and shape.  Having never been in such a place, I was overwhelmed with the fantastic smell and was all but taking hits off the branches.

He was a fatty and we liked him, but alas, too tall.

When we had chosen our tree, someone came and cut it down.  With a chainsaw.  Then he dragged it away, tossed it on his little cart and drove it to our car.

No pomp.  No ceremony.  All business.

I was sort of hoping he'd cut it down with an axe, while whistling "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas", then pull his corn-cob pipe out of his jacket and smoke it while telling us a story from his childhood.

He did not.

Either way, the tree is up! 

Um... it's a little too tall.  What to do?

So, what happens when your tree scratches the ceiling?  One retrieves one's hatchet, of course!

  Yeah, this really happened.

After James killed it and we got it all set up, we decorated.

  I named him Hugh.

After that, I made James put his hatchet back in his car.  He seemed confused as to why I was so uncomfortable with a MINI AXE IN THE HOUSE.

Idon'tlikeitIdon'tlikeitIdon'tlikeitIdon'tlikeit.

 

The soundtrack to Elf is currently in the CD player of my car.  It's the next best thing when your mom steals your copy  you can't find your copy of the DVD.

"I have two ears and a heart, don't I?"

I have a research paper that is due tomorrow.

I haven't started.

I have another paper and project due next Friday.

Haven't started on that either.

We talked about domestic violence and battering today in class.

My heart broke.

What is making all of this okay so that I'm currently able to function?

One word:

GENESIS.




I challenge you- nay! I dare you to listen to "Invisible Touch" without your toe tapping, your head bobbing and/or your heart filling with tree nymphs and pixie dust.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to the land of confusion.

Dip it, pop it, twerk it, stop it.

I don't wake up well in the morning.

This shouldn't be too much of a surprise, but I think it provides context for the following.

So, you know when you get in your car and a song you haven't heard in "like, forever" comes on the radio? Um, don't you love that?

Most days, I stumble out of bed, doze off in the shower and blindly grasp for my favorite coffee mug (it's red with white snow flakes). When I get in the car to head to work, I screw around with my preset radio stations to find something I don't hate (Soulja Boy does not fall in that category).

Sometimes, however, I come across a song that I haven't heard in a few years and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make my morning.

It could be Tom Jones's "It's Not Unusual", "(I Love You) More Today Than Yesterday" by Spiral Staircase or Beyonce's "Check On It". It doesn't matter. The veil is lifted and I come alive! Well, at least until the song is over.

Then, because of the natural order of the universe and its desire for balance, something equally sucky has to come on to right the cosmic forces once again. So, this means that if I'm treated to Queen, I then must be subjected to Taylor Swift.

Generally, it works the other way around, too. If I can hold on through Fallout Boy or ...oh, what's that other band that gets a lot of airplay but makes me want to die? Come on, you know it! The lead singer's voice sounds like a bunch of gerbils being run through the dishwasher and all the songs sound the same... NICKELBACK! Got it!

Wait, what was I saying?

I forget, but the point is, I need to start putting more CDs in my car.