This morning, I felt Christmas.
Every year, I anticipate what it will take to evoke my holiday spirit. Sometimes, just one Santa jingle can do it for me, but this year my holly jolly has been especially stubborn. The usual suspects were all present: stockings on the fireplace (one for each roommate!), Hershey’s kisses with candy cane bits, metallic Christmas trees on display at UO, but I was still stuck in that pergatory I like to call ‘Nocember.’ Thanksgiving is definitely gone, but I have still been patiently awaiting Christmas’ arrival.. that is, until this morning.
…and it didn’t take much. Starbucks peppermint mocha, chilly weather, Uggs, and a Christmas tree in the lobby at work. I guess my holiday spirit is somewhat low maintenance, although unpredictable. Go figure!
I wonder when I’ll start to feel Hanukkah and Kwaanza.
With stomach growling and fingers tapping out the minutes until lunch, I finally decide to sign up for a blog. By new start, I refer to my migration over from Xanga (after a now permanent hibernation), and by old person, I refer to my now 22 1/2 year old self.
The way I see it, Xanga was for the adolescent jennwang. With such a silly — for lack of better word — name, it brought out the silliness — once again for lack of better word — in me: emo cries for help, inability to capitalize the first words of my sentences (perhaps disregard for any decent grammatical obligation at all), and words which were only used to inadequately enhance photographs. I took 6th grade English really seriously (grammar girl in the heeeeeeeezay!) and dare I say I was quite the English teacher’s pet. If she ever ran across any of my Xanga entries, I’m sure she would have to exercise corporal punishment — English teacher style. You know, nails on chalkboards, 100 word spelling tests, that type of thing.
Now WordPress is a different story. In fact, I aspire that it will be a lot of stories. WordPress.. well, it will press me for words. Har har. Photographs here, if any happen to make their way at all, will be used to enhance words, give structure to my paragraphs, or become words. Traditionally, I think the rule is that a picture is worth a thousand words, but unfortunately, my talent as a photographer is not quite up to par, so my ratio may be lower than expected. Let’s say my pictures will be worth only two hundred words, and even that may be a generous assumption. Anyway, self-degredation is not something I want to practice anymore (that was sooo Xanga), so moving on..
I’ll have to admit to you, dear reader – and yes that is reader singular for now (shout out to Andy Chen! and possibly the folks downstairs in MIS monitoring my internet usage) –that I rush to the front lines of writership for completely selfish purposes. I’m not here to entertain or hope that you keep in touch. I am, to bluntly say, spittin’ words to pass the time at work. Fashion industry, off-season, dim-witted peers, KIIS FM on repeat, brain rotting.. enough said?
Fortunately for me, today is the coveted ‘Noodle Soup Day’ in the lunchroom at work, which occurs every other Wednesday, so on that note, I am going to lunch a little early to avoid the quickly growing line. When the lunch menu becomes the highlight of my work day and developing strategies to devour these tasty treats turns my cranial gears more than my work does, it might be considered a sign — a sign that I could be doing something more with my life. But until then, happy eating!
