So I guess, like, Merry Christmas and stuff.
My favorite Christmas Carol is "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman." It is probably no coincidence that this is also the only actual Christmas carol mentioned by name in "A Christmas Carol." The Christmas in my head is a decidedly English affair, and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen strikes me as the most English of carols.
I got a yen to hear my favorite Christmas song earlier today, so I headed on over to iTunes to buy myself a copy. I was hoping for a version sung by fat, jolly English baritone types, possibly with an orchestra. This is what I got.
I ended up buying the one by the Chieftans, as a lesser of all evils, but I'm not even entirely sure that scratches my anglophile itch. Vexing.
On a happier note, Merry Christmas everybody! Wishing you and yours the best this holiday.
Nothing reminds you of all your weird single-person-who-lives-alone quirks like having a guest for an extended period of time. Kelli's here for the holidays and I pity her having to deal with me. I sing. A lot.
Every once in awhile I remember that someone else is here and I feel like this:
And mostly when I notice I'm singing, I've been singing this:
Merry Christmas!
On June 6, 2010 it will be 20 years since I graduated high school. You know what that means, right? Yeah, yeah I'm old. I don't fucking care. It also means that this summer is my 20th High School Reunion an auspicious event rendered totally pointless and infinitely more annoying by the advent of Facebook.
Tonight I've put up with the incessant nagging of someone I don't even remember. Apparently this yahoo has scanned in our senior yearbook and was puzzled that he couldn't find my picture. I told him I was too busy designing the yearbook (nerd, I know) to get my picture taken. He was convinced I had a maiden name I was unwilling to reveal.
I never thought I'd be that person, but here I am. The person who has absolutely no desire at all to attend any of their high school reunions. People tell me I'll regret not going that I should totally go, it's so fun. Maybe I'm close-minded but I don't see how hanging out in some godforsaken bar in East Fucking Bethel, MN with people I don't know is going to be fun.
And really wasn't the whole point of the reunion to see who married whom, who got fat and how many kids they had? I know all that already, from Facebook. I like Facebook infinitely more than I liked high school. And thanks to Facebook I won't have to drive to East Fucking Bethel, MN to attend the reunion, I'll can just look at all the pictures and judge people from the comfort of my own home.
The Greater Washington Metropolitan area suffered a snowpocalypse this weekend, and I've been apartment-bound with CarrieNation for going on 36 hours now. If Facebook is any indication, people are just beside themselves about all their lost productivity during The Great Blizzard of 2009, but we think it's just dandy. I don't know how long it would take me to get bored of hanging out with my wife, watching movies, reading books and playing video games, but I'm willing to find out.
Their dog is a lot like our old family dog--before they had these designer breeds. Ours was a mix of a poodle
and a german shepherd. We got it from gas station man as owner was in jail. So cute! Animals don't say
hurtful words that challenge your self-esteem.
I've never been a big fan of dance music. It might have something to do with the fact that I can't dance...or that most dance music sucks, or maybe it's a little from column A and a little from column B.
Not only have I never been a big fan of dance music, but there has also never been a time in my life at which I've had less use for it. I was never a big clubber (clubbite) even as a young single fellow. Now that I'm married I can think of approximately 7,000 things I'd rather do than go to a dance club, including #4,506 (staring into middle space) and #5,092 (flicking around a ball of lint).
So it is a little surprising to me that my new favorite artist is kabillion-selling dance-pop sensation Lady Gaga.
It started when I downloaded her ubiquitous hit Poker Face in an effort to make our wedding playlist more relevant to the young folks. Unlike most dance music, which I find gets worse with repeated listening, I found myself coming back to Ms. Gaga's weird ode to whatever it is she's singing about. Lately I've been scouring YouTube for more gaga clips, including my latest favorite, Bad Romance.
Even though I babysit the Tibbles every Friday, I rarely get to see my nephew Cade. He's at school by the time I get there and I leave before he gets home. I spend the time in between talking about bats with Nolan and listening to Liam tell me everything I say is boring and that he likes Katie Lou much better (this, of course, cracks me up and I argue with him incessantly about it).
Yesterday Cade and I passed briefly in the living room.
He stood in front of me wrapped in his snow gear, backpack still affixed to his back. "Did you want really want an electric pencil sharpener for Christmas?" He asked, looking up at me from under the Superman hat.
"Yes."
"Good!" He pointed at the Christmas tree. "That's what we got you."
Sweet!
