Pretend Christmas...

December 29^th and Christmas has finally passed. It took a long time to get here, but I am glad it is over. The whole Christmas thing for our family started on the 23^rd. We went over to visit all of my Dad’s brothers and sisters. I was the youngest one there by 7 years, so it was a little hard to feel included, but I survived. I mostly sat and listened to people talk. And they are such great talkers. My dad likes his Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. And back in the day, so did my dad’s brother Steve. So they would sit and drink and talk and play card games. Now this was a regular thing when they were younger. And after tossing back a few, Steve would have troubles telling which can of PBR was his. But my dad always seemed to know. He would pick up both cans, swirl them around a bit and very definitively say which can was his. So here we are, years later, and Steve is still baffled and amazed that my dad could always tell which was his. Well to this my dad replies, “ I never knew which was which, Steve, I always just picked the can with the most beer left and told you it was mine.”

So after the 23^rd, I there was the 24^th. Which we watched miracle on 34^th street and then it’s a wonderful life on TV. Then on the 25^th we went to Granma’s and had lunch and then had what was left of lunch for dinner. The 26^th came and now, mom start to get the Christmas feeling she blasted Christmas music all day long. Why the hell she would wait till after Christmas to start played the appropriate music I’ll never know. We spent all day cleaning house. Then on the 27^th we went to C-bus to pick up my sister, Katie and her boyfriend Van, from the airport. They live in D.C. so it is difficult for them to always come home exactly on the holiday.

Now comes the 29^th. Pretend Christmas. My mom and Gran’ma are far more religious then me. They are both Christians and me, not so much. Around this time of year, I can buy into about half of all the holiday stuff… Santa, reindeer, Frosty, the Grinch…they all go down smooth, but all the stuff about Jesus’ birthday? That’s just ridiculous. And thusly I am a bit cynical about the holiday. So this year I’ve been calling it Santa’s birthday. Being cynical, and wanting to stir the pot a little bit, I asked mom, if celebrating my dad’s birthday (Dec. 22^nd) on the day that we were celebrating Christmas would take away from Jesus. Mom told me that the 28^th is only pretend Christmas, so it doesn’t really matter. So on pretend Christmas, we opened presents and had dinner her with Gran’ma and Gran’pa. It was fun. I enjoyed all the food and all the family that surrounded my on that day.

Now I’m off to enjoy the rest of my break, only 4 days till I go back to school. Better make them last.

home.

I've been home 4 hours and already i have done nothing but eat. Home made buckeyes, chocolate chip cookies, bagel bites...

i don't know what it is about being home, but there is always so much food at my fingertips, so many sweets and candies, that i want to do nothing more then eat and get fat. It's disgusting, but right now, it seems like such a good plan. here's to good food and and to my inevitable weight gain.

cheers

Day 7...

I have 6 more hours and counting. I am still bored out of my skull. I am still tired. I am ready to leave. The girl I’m working with is watching Elizabethtown, and I am preparing myself to watch Orlando Bloom kill himself in the most spectacular way. I have a feeling he’s going to hufflepuff his way out of it.

I have 5 days till Christmas and I have yet to get into the spirit of things. I’m not really a scrooge, I’m not a holiday hater, although it does bother me when people take it too seriously or put to much stock in it religiously. I just don’t feel the magic of the season. What happened? It used to be sparkling with magic, wonder and amazement. It was the one time of year where I actually thought that people were better just because of the proximity of a certain date. Some arbitrary day, and the entire month leading up to it, could change people. Not just one person, not just a group of people, but everyone on earth. Every human was a better person. Everyone became a little more friendly, a little more giving and a little more loving.

Now, Christmas is just a day. Albeit a day where people give each other presents, but a day nonetheless. I don’t know, maybe I just remember the way silly cartoons about yogis’ first Christmas or a balding 3^rd grader and his beagle seemed to sum up the holiday spirit so perfectly, and that was what was important. And maybe I miss that. Maybe I want to recapture those moments in my life when I still believed a single day could make people nicer and treat one another better then on any other day of the year. Recapture the unwavering faith of childhood. Unfortunately, I think that I will probably never feel that way again.

Here is what I do think. I think that those who do decide to be good this month. To be a better person because of some random date. I think those people make the holiday worth celebrating. These people offset the bad seeds in the world. Those who never want to be friendly or be giving or caring. And the world, which I believe is usually an even keel, tips in favor of what is positive and right and good. For 11 months out of the year, I believe that for every act of evil, someone out there counterbalances it by doing something good, but in this final month, there is enough good will and enough people with a desire to be caring and giving, to make the world better. Everyone might not be a better person, but the world can maybe, just maybe, be a better place.

Day 6...

Still workin’. Does the phrase ‘another day another dollar’ apply to people working third trick? I hope so, wouldn’t it be nice to have a cliché to justify a 70 hour work week? After I finish work at 7am on Wednesday morning, I get to squeeze in a few hours of sleep and then go home. I’ll be home for about 2 weeks, till at few days into the new year when classes will begin again. I am looking forward to being home. Home is the greatest.

This is what I am looking forward to when I go home. I am looking forward to doing nothing, sprawling out on the couch watching rented DVDs with my Dad. I’m looking forward to playing my guitar, blasting my way through ‘wild thing,’ ‘jumping jack flash,” and others, while my mom has to listen, (it’ll remind her of when I had a garage band in high school, she say she’ll miss the boys coming to her house and causing a racket.). I’ll get to eat my dad’s famous, (well, they ought to be famous) soft sour cream sugar cookies. These cookies, I’m not ever allowed to decorate. I have a problem when it comes icing, and candy. The family and I have differing opinions on how many M&Ms are too many.

I’m looking forward to seeing my Grandpa try to hide his smile as family gathers around in the living room to talk after lunch. He always tries to be the big, strong, stoic man, but when it comes to his grandkids, he can never quite keep his lips from curling upwards. I’m looking forward to playing scrabble with my mom and sister and her boyfriend. I’m looking forward to not working, and not missing the sun. I’m looking forward to sitting at home, with no obligations, no agendas, and to be able to enjoy my family. ‘Cause I figure, Christmas is about family. Above all the peace on earth, goodwill to men, that everyone preaches. Above all the religious mojo jojo. To me. It’s all about family, and the love that keeps you together. And I am going to take full advantage of the time I have with them.

Day 5....

Yep, you guessed it. I’m at work. Again. The girl I’m working with is off in the lobby watching some special on the secret lives of Jesus. And I am manning the desk on my own for an hour or so. 15 minutes in and I’m already bored. So here I am, on the blog again. Here was my evening…

So I don’t know if you know this or not. But OSU is home to about 50,000 students. It does rank as one of the largest universities ever. But in the middle of winter break there is not a soul here. And it creeps me out. This giant campus, which during the quarter, is pulsating. People everywhere, going about their business, going from building to building, class to class. But now? Lifeless. Dead. Caught in the middle of campus at night, and there is not a trace of life for a mile on all sides. Eerie. To me it feels like the end of the world. It feels like I’m trapped in a twilight zone episode. You know the one. Where the guy wakes up and he can’t find anyone, not his friends, or family or even his neighbor who likes to borrow his tools and never returns them. The feeling of being somewhere otherworldly and strange is only amplified by the fact that this is the third day in a row that I have missed the sun. I go to bed before it rises and wake up after it has already set. So here I am, standing in the dark, and I’m utterly alone.

At the end of the world, my i-pod paints a melancholy picture. Sure, I could try to find something cheerful to listen to, but every time I click for a new song, the music gets creepier and creepier. I sing out, trying to provide myself with company, but my screams echo off the glass and brick and mortar of the buildings. I pace the pathways and streets under the black sky, hoping to catch some sign of life. The street lamps are glowing; traffic signals flash and change colors as they’re supposed to. But there isn’t anyone to obey the commands.

It’s just creepy. I shove my fists deep into my pockets and to fight off a chill. I look at my watch. I have two hours before work. I choose a direction and head off to find my dinner.

The first post...

“I think a Blog is incredibly pretentious. To think that there are people out there, who don’t know you, but would care to read about your thoughts and opinions and day to day happenings is just plain pretentious.”

These are words. They are my Words. And I am eating them.

I have started a blog. The temperature in hell is about negative 3 degrees Fahrenheit. In fact, I think I can see Satan building a snowman. And now that I have revealed to everyone on the interweb that I’m a hypocritical jerk; I’ll plead my case.

I am on the fourth night of working 9p.m.-7.a.m. at the front desk in the dorm where I live. I am bored. I am tired (I threw that in there as an excuse for the typos). And maybe I wanted to see if anyone out there cared. It’s not likely, and my hopes are not held high . But one never can tell. I started this blog as my own entertainment, a place where I can let my thoughts escape to. And if some one decides to read it and enjoys it, I will be very flattered. And I figure with my short attention span, I’ll prolly get bored after 5 posts and then never post again. But like a said, you never can tell. Perhaps I will stick with it and become the voice of a generation? Nah.

If I am pleading a case, I need to make a closing argument. Sum up my case. Then leave it to the world to pass its judgment on each and every post I submit for its consideration. So…

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I claim to not be a pretentious jerk, because in starting my blog, I was looking only at my own entertainment, and those who decide to read, and follow my posts, I’ll take that as a compliment. And if no one decides to read it, then…well, I guess I really don’t care.