Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Miles and Miles

To be honest, this probably won't be a very interesting one.

It's kind of a shame, because this really has been one of the greatest years of my life; however I summed it up best in the letter I sent to the nine million people I've met this year.

But all I've done during this holiday is spend some very valuable time with the people whom I love and sleep an embarrassing amount of hours per night and solve a monstrous amount of Sudoku puzzles. And all I'm going to do for the rest of the holiday is spend more valuable time with the people whom I love and go to a funeral and wait to move out again and dance the night away and solve even more Sudoku puzzles.

It's easy to sum up my life by only looking at the present and recent past. It's even easier to put myself in the boxes that I see myself belonging in. What is hard is avoiding impending laziness.

But Williamston has caught on fire a total of three times over this holiday. At least I have my home town to interest me.

It has been a marvelous 2008.


Thursday, December 18, 2008

Weary is the World

I desperately needed to leave the house this morning, be it because of the constant symphony of birds-hitting-windows that was driving me crazy or perhaps the mere fact that I needed groceries. Henceforth, I attempted to spice up my life by writing my shopping list in Irish, brewed some rather weak tea, and set off.

But at a busy, Christmas-infested Wal-Mart, upon feeling my own sunken face as if it were composed of so much melted wax, I noticed the rest of the world. I noticed all of the tired, weary faces around me and couldn't help but think that nobody really wants to celebrate the season; nobody wants Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, holidays. Nobody. We only do it for the children.

So upon leaving the store, I sheepishly crammed a crumpled dollar into the Salvation Army bucket in a pathetic attempt to salvage any holiday spirit left in the atmosphere. Upon witnessing this awkward demonstration, the bell ringer, probably the most kind and polite soul I will encounter today, asked God to bless me and sent me on my way. And I pitifully fa-la-la-ed my way to the car, serenaded all the way by a screaming, crying child that we are doing all of this for.

An hour later, after checking half of an item off of my List of Things to Do Before I Die, I returned home.


Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Stance on a Pumpkin

For once in my life, I decided subconsciously to do something innocent. I thought I'd be neat and tidy and chuck the rotten obnoxiously-decorated Halloween pumpkin into the woods; the one that has been sitting next to the coffee pot in my dorm room for a month and a half.

So I made it easy on myself.

Despite the blizzard, I slipped on some flip flops and leukophobia-minimizing sunglasses (hah) and burst out the back door with my All-American rejects t-shirt on and freshly straightened hair, pumpkin in hand. I trudged through the snow, toes exposed, and threw that little pumpkin towards the "rape trail" and made my way to the front door of Holmes Hall.

Now usually when I dress myself, according to my father, it's more like putting on a costume. And usually, I do this consciously and proudly. And usually, I do it because it's part of my...loud personality.

But I was just in a t-shirt and flip flops and sunglasses, just taking care of the pumpkin corpse, just making my way back to the dorm. I wasn't cold, because cold is a learned behavior.

But I guess a girl just can't wear a t-shirt in December without people thinking that she's making a political statement.

"Honey, you know it's winter, right? Just putting that out there..."

So they subconsciously encouraged me. So I did pull out my strut. So I did pretend I was making some sort of ludicrous statement.

You know why?

Because I am an actress who has been denied a theatrical stage for almost four months.

My stage is this dorm, my script is my life, and I am my own director.