Seriously, I work in the only profession that actually has to work on both Christmas and New Year's Day... and Easter. Someone should tell my employer that these are religious holidays and they need let me have the day off and stop persecuting me for my beliefs.
I've pretty much narrowed it down to two courses (coarses Molly) of action. Either I will begin the New Year's Day church service with a bang, or a joke in poor taste. Picture this...
I want to come out at the beginning of service with sunglasses on and pillow hair. I will then quietly say, "sssshhhhh...ssshhhh... Hey, can we bring the lights down. Okay, we are going to sing this morning, but very soft... I have a killer headache. Nobody make an sudden movements or loud noises... yeah go ahead and bring the lights down a little more."
Or
I will simply start blaring rock music and pointing at people with the headaches. The video screens will read, "I know what you did last night." What will be funny is the old people won't know what to do. Do they cover their ears and indicate that they were drinking, or do they just bare the music that drives them nuts even when they are sober?
Needless to say, New Year's Day will be extremely spiritual... or judgmental. Hey if I have to be there and tired you should too.
Don't Be Hung Over For Church
From Indian Lakes
I don't want to be here.
I don't want to go next year.
I don't even want to be near him.
Twas The Night Before Christmas Party...
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house.
Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
The stockings were all hung by the chimney with care.
Even one for Luc's girlfriend, who would not be there.
I couldn't believe it. I went to my parents house last night for our staff Christmas party. It promised to be a fun filled event with food and a gift exchange. I got there early to start dinner, because mom and dad were busy. So as I'm getting the ham in the oven, I glance over into our living room. It looked like Father Christmas threw up everywhere. Our entire living room was transformed. The tree was up and decorated with all our ornaments. (BTW: Each ornament has a story. And if you're not careful, my mom will tell you them one by one.)
But one thing particularly caught my eye. There are six stockings on the fire place. Six. Mom, Dad, Lucas, Josh (brother), Christy (sister-in-law)... We don't have any pets... Josh and Christy don't have any kids... Maybe my parents have a Christmas Gnome. So when my mother gets home I ask, "Hey mom, what's with the extra stocking?" She replies with this story.
Kathy: Well, last Christmas I bought new stockings when they went on sale. I bought six because I was hopeful... that you would have... you know... someone this Christmas.
Lucas: Okay, but why put it out?
Kathy: Well, I bought those pretty mantel hangers...
My mother hung an empty stocking to pay tribute to my singleness this holiday season. A moment of silence please. My date for the party had backed out on me, and I was too apathetic about the whole thing to get another one. Too much drama involved. This awkward situation was perpetuated throughout the evening as I knew which table I was to sit at, because it was the one with the odd numbered place setting. I was my mother's partner in the game, as my Dad was the officiate. (We won.)
I just find the whole situation ridiculous. I'm not dating any more. I give up. It sucks. Especially during the holidays. Everything is couples, but you can't get a date because nobody wants to meet the family on the first date. And no one wants to be a friend date or safety date during the holidays, they want to actually be in a romance. So I say F U dating. I'm getting married. I haven't worked out the logistics of this plan, but I think I could arrange a marriage. I may have to trade my Ipod.
These Stories Are Unrelated
First Day Back
I went snowboarding on Tuesday. I wanted to die on Wednesday. I did pretty well, I didn't fall much, but I was on black diamonds and I even did some five foot ramps in the terrain park. I was going to try a rail, but Eric fell right in front of me and I chickened out. I believe his exact words were, "Man, I actually could taste the blood on that one." But being the first day back this season... I'm so sore I can't move. Who wants to go snowboarding next Tuesday?
King Kong Wrong
I kidnapped Jason last night. His apartment was raided by pirate wenches. It was a long siege, but... sorry wrong story. Bethany (Jason's sister not ex-girl friend) won a drawing at a bridal show for a free pleasant pampering party particularly for persons of the female persuation. But it had to be in the Chicagoland area so Jason graciously gave up his apartment to his little sister. No matter how pleasant this particular pampering party was promising to be, Jason did not plan to partake in the peculiar pastes perpetuated by the person preparing the pleasureable pampering party. So he called me to rescue him. So I braved the two feet of slush (gross) and we went to AMC to see King Kong. We sat through at least twenty minutes of "pre-show entertainment" and four previews before the screen went blank and you heard the sound the jukebox makes when it goes down in movies. (that slow, power down noise). Everyone was trying to keep their cool, but inside we were all thinking the same thing, "I better get some free popcorn out of this." Then twenty minutes when by.... things started to get tense. I'm pretty sure at one point the guy in the projector room was mummified in the actual film. So they sent this poor guy to tell us they almost had it fixed, but it wasn't really. They started trying to show the movie and it was like watching someone try to start a car that hasn't run in years. The movie would start and then die, start and die. "Give it some gas!! No you're flooding it!!" So after waiting an hour (that I'll never get back) they just gave us a free ticket and sent us on our way. I wanted to beat someone senseless. Instead we got a milkshake. Not as satisfying as the beating.
Yellow Snow
I like to poor out Mountain Dew in strange places... like in front of people's cars in my apartment complex.
Spectacles, Testicles, Watch, and Wallet
5643
I went to St. Mary's Catholic Church last night.
In relation to Big Church vs. Small Church thinking, there are still some parts of small church that I really enjoy. In enjoy them half because I find them ridiculously funny, and half because I just really like them. In our town the churches get together at Christmas time to have a choral service. Basically, each church has a pastor read a portion of the Christmas story and then the choir from that church sings a piece. This is one of those events that you would never go to unless you HAD to be there, but once you're there it turns out to be really good.
Now when I say "good", I don't mean that the music is good. Or that the choirs are good. Or that the service order is good. I mean it's "good" to have someone sit next to you that you can crack jokes with and then try to muffle your laughter as to not disturb the entire service. It was hilarious to watch our choir try to keep it together as the CD kept skipping and jumping around. I wanted to stand up and say, "And now our choir will be singing Celebrate, a piece written in B flat by Clydesdale & Johnson, part of the musical A Time For Christmas..... The Remix." The United Methodist Church did a happenin' number that everyone desperately wanted to clap to, but didn't because we were at the Catholic Church. And of coarse the Mormon "Community" church had one family come up and do a Christmas carol. I'm pretty sure they had the loudest applause, in a good effort, Gold Star kind of way. (But I can't say anything, at least their piano player didn't skip.)
On the flip side of this fiasco... I really enjoyed it. It was interesting to watch. In one way it was cool to watch like car accidents are, but in another way I enjoyed seeing seven churches with very little in common come together to celebrate the birth of our Savior. Different people, different styles, different Bible translations... I listened to the Christmas story in NIV, NLT, NASB, NKJ, KJ, the Message, and the "No Gender" Bible... I heard organ numbers, piano music, CD Tracks, and pitch pipes. All of it came together in a small white Catholic chapel with stained glass windows, a large alter up front and almost cartoonish statues of Christ everywhere. And when we sang O Come O Come Emanuel as ONE congregation, really as ONE choir with the organ... it was beautiful. The Kingdom of Heaven is near.
Isn't This My Space?
I consider myself a member of the "blogging community". My blog isn't famous or published, but I would still say that I am a consistent blogger. But recently, I've been thinking that I am less a part of the blogging world, and more just a "blogger". Allow me to clarify.
In the blogging community there is a veritable smorgusboard of weblog servers. There is Xanga, Myspace, Topix, Face Book, and of coarse BLOGGER. All the weblog servers are different and have their own particular flare. Myself, I have four blogs. FOUR. One is just what I use to try out templates I create in my side business Blogskins by Lucas. One is for picture storage and I happen to write in this one that you are reading.
A couple of my friends have Xanga sites. I of coarse don't comment on them, because you have to have your own Xanga account, and I will not be sucked into that... again. But Xanga sites are perfect for the multitasking, random blogger. Each blog is sectioned up and you get to know everything from the CD they are playing to what is in their pocket to the gossip they overheard. So you can actually have five separate blogs in one.
But I also have a Myspace account. Why do I have a Myspace account? Because sometime, someone asked me to check out their Myspace blog. Of coarse, you can't read their blog unless you have your own Myspace account. Not only that, but you have to APPLY to be "added" to their "Myspace friends". So I make my profile and read their blog... no big deal. But then it starts to happen. People see my profile on myspace and assume that I will blog on it and have interesting pictures and stories. They APPLY to be "added" to my Myspace. I now have 33 "Myspace friends". I went two years not updating my blog and people still wanted to be added. I don't know if they are just trying to run up their friend points or whether they are trying to change their bad karma or what. I started to feel so bad about it that I have now started posting some of my old BLOGGER posts on it and now I have to maintain two blogs. I find the whole process annoying. I don't even like Myspace. I like Blogger.
I admit it. I am a Blogger snob.