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Category Archives: memories

December 31, 2012

Last year’s words belong to last year’s language

By lucysfootball

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

New Year’s Eve always makes me all reflective. Like those strips on your running shoes so cars don’t hit you in the dark.

Super-reflective and artsy as shit.

Super-reflective and artsy as shit.

Tomorrow is for looking forward; today is for looking back.

2012. What can we say about 2012?

2012 was a roller coaster of a year. And listen, it is a fact about old Lucy’s Football that she HATES roller coasters. They make your stomach hurt, they bounce your head all around, they dig your earrings into your neck and they make you dizzy. I’d rather walk through the animal barn at the fair or something, that’s less distressing and sometimes you get to pet some sheep with their warm fleecy wool and soft noses.

Aw, sheepers! *pet*

Aw, sheepers! *pet*

There were good things this year and there were bad things this year and I’m still not sure if I consider it a win or a loss, to be honest. I’d like to say it’s a wash, but I don’t know if that’s the case, even.

But let’s not make this TOO depressing right out of the gate, right? I mean, do you come here for total depressing navel-gazing? What’s that? Sometimes you do? FINE, never let it be said I don’t deliver.

Let’s go through the highs and lows of 2012, yeah? It’s the day for it if there ever was a day. Tomorrow we can optimistically opine about 2013 but today we can look back on the year that was.

Fired. There is really nothing like being called into a conference room with your boss and the HR rep and to be told you are not only being fired, you need to be out immediately. And then being escorted to the door because you’ve possibly become a scary liability who might cause some sort of scene. In this economy, it is one of the most frightening things ever. Especially when you totally kind of brought it upon yourself because the reason you were fired was ostensibly for too much internet usage and also blogging at work even though you kind of weren’t REALLY blogging at work, only writing the drafts there and setting them to publish during work hours once you got home at night, and the only reason you were using the internet at work at all was because there was very seldom enough for you to do and the days stretched out looooong in front of you.

However, when you hated the job – and I mean hated, hated, HATED, to the point you had to pep-talk yourself into going in every morning and not sit in the car weeping, you kind of think, huh, maybe this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened, on some level. Then the unemployment stretches for about four and a half months, and you spend a month of it sitting on the couch so depressed you can’t take a full breath or move and all you want to do is sleep, and the remaining three and a half months working 50-60 hours weeks just to pay the bills…well, you get tired. July to December was a very long stretch, and a good third of my year. It’s hard to look back on 2012 without thinking of it as the year I lost a third of it to working too hard and being technically unemployed and worrying. Constantly. From the minute I woke up to the minute I fell asleep.

It’s not all bad, though. If I hadn’t had that part-time job that became full-time when I needed it to, I would have been living in my car, or back home with my parents. I was lucky to have it. It saved my life and sanity.

Hired (x2). But for every bad, there’s a good. Finally, after months and months of worry and work and toil and trouble, I was lucky enough to find not only a full-time job, but a wonderful full-time job, with people I love, doing something I enjoy, at a location I really like, getting paid enough money to not only live on, but live on comfortably. I pinch myself daily. I’ll never think I deserve nice things, and when they happen, I always wait for the other shoe to drop. I still wait. I have one ear out for that other shoe at all times. I feel like it’s going to be a very loud, very clunky platform sandal of some sort.

Or a big ol' loafer.

Or a big ol’ loafer.

Not only did the amazing job come through (thanks to theater friends) but ANOTHER job came through thanks to theater friends and I now can say I write for the paper. And I get to see plays for free, and review them, and people can read what I’ve written, and how much that actually influences people, I don’t know, but it’s what I do that I love more than anything else. When you have a job that doesn’t at all seem like work…well, you might be the luckiest person alive. It’s what we all want, isn’t it? It’s what I always dreamed of for myself, a job that I loved, that I’d do even if they didn’t pay me. And I have one now, even if it’s very much part-time.

Friends. Any recap of 2012 would not be complete without mentioning the friends that have walked through it by my side. I’ve made friends this year (one of whom is, I’m quite sure, my sister separated at birth – sj, my love, what would I do without you? I can’t even imagine) and become closer than I ever thought possible to others (Andreas, my beloved Science Fellow from the land of the Finns, you are a blessing I will never stop being thankful for), both near and far. I know some of the best people in the world, both that I’ve met with my face and that I’ve yet to meet but talk to on a daily basis. I’ll never stop being grateful for this; I’ll never stop being a little tearful when I think of how lucky I am.

I have also lost friends this year. It’s the way of the world, I think. Life’s constantly changing; things happen, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the…well, not-better. People change. You change. Whether you want this to happen or not. Sometimes you can fight this; sometimes you can win. Sometimes it’s beyond your control and you lose, or you’re just so tired of fighting the inevitable you just give up. Sometimes the loss is a good thing. Sometimes the loss leaves you unable to breathe and with a heart so filled with sorrow and regret and memories that sneak-attack you when you least expect it that you don’t know how you’re going to pick yourself up from it because you never imagined a life without that person in it. But you do, of course. Pick yourself up from it. Of course you do. Life goes on. It’s what life does, right? No matter how shattered you are inside, life just keeps on truckin’. And every day things hurt a little less, until the most hurtful thing that’s left is how something that once mattered so much is now no more than a distant ghostly memory.

Sometimes being an adult is all eating chocolate for dinner and staying up past your bedtime and sometimes it’s the deepest sadness you can imagine. We don’t tell our children this when they’re little. Otherwise they wouldn’t want to grow up, now would they?

Book. For all of the other things it was, 2012 was the year I finally had a book I’d written published. It is possibly my proudest moment of not only the year, but of my entire life. Holding a book in my hands I’d written…hearing from people who’d read it, talking to them about words I’d written and labored over and worried about and lived…seeing reviews of it go up, seeing it hit number one in the Kindle store, even if for a very brief period of time…absolutely amazing. All of it. I’ll never get over that as long as I live. Thank you to all of you who bought it and told people about it and geeked out with me about it. You helped make a dream come true. Someday maybe I’ll do it again, who knows? Life’s a funny place, really. You never can tell what will happen.

That’s one big apple. It wasn’t a year of much bon vivantery, but the teeny amount I got to do was awesomeness. I got to go to my favorite city in the world and meet one of my favorite PEOPLE in the world, my wonderful Susie. And we had a day of adventure and walking and talking and shopping and eating and so many things. Say what you will about the interwebs, but if you do it correctly, you can meet the best people the world has to offer. My Susie is one of those people, and meeting her in person just proved that. Love you, Susie!

Blog. What would a year-in-review be without talking about what takes up a majority of my free time, this here thingamabobber? The day in 2011 when I decided, “what the hell, let’s start a blog, Ms. Amy, what have we got to lose, really?” will live in infamy as the day a very silly off-the-cuff decision led to rewards beyond imagining. Without the blog, where would all these words in my head go? Without the blog, how would I have met all you wonderful people? Without the blog, how would I be this person I am now? The answer to all of those questions is a big old, “I don’t know.” A lot can live in an “I don’t know.” A lot of emptiness and sadness. I love it here. I love what we’ve all built. I love every bit of this. Thank you all for being part of this. Without you, it’d be a lot less fun, now wouldn’t it?

Half an hour trumps three and a half hours. As of two days ago, The Nephew and his mom have officially moved half an hour away. Half an hour is much better than three and a half hours, visiting-my-favorite-person-in-the-world-wise. I’ll be polite. I’ll give them some time to settle. Then I’m going to show up like the magi bearing gifts and I’m going to read him books and play with him on the floor and giggle with him and tell him stories and big words that thrill him and I will be happier than all the things in all the land.

So if we weigh the good and the bad…well, I guess the year was a wash, all-told. But not the awesome kind of Wash like on Firefly.

More than ready for my 2013. Big plans for you, year. BIG OLD PLANS. Starting with a whole day off tomorrow in which I will do whatever the hell I want.

Hope you all had the best 2012s known to man, and that your 2013s are amazing wonderful sparkly affairs full of wonder, mystery and magic. It’s all I want for you, really. It’s not too much to ask, right? Right.

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28 comments | posted in analysis, best-of, blogs, friends, history, holidays, Internet, Jobs, memories, nephew, real life, thoughts, work, writing

December 17, 2012

Hey, I always notice that bored look in their eyes, alright?

By lucysfootball

I’m having a very lazy day. I probably should be doing a million billion things, but mostly what I decided was a good use of my time today was to watch Chasing Amy and blog. And play with the internet. I feel like a sloth. A super-slothful slothy sloth. I will have you know that I did change out of my pajamas about an hour ago. It was kind of the biggest thing I did today and utterly exhausted me.

Also, can I just say that I could watch this movie a billion times and never get tired of it? There are a lot of reasons for this, but let’s be honest. The main reason is young Jason Lee. Oh, young Jason Lee, before he got all puffy and weird and Scientology-obsessed and named his child Pilot Inspektor; so, so Amy’s perfect movie-boyfriend.

All damagey and potty-mouthed and insanely loyal and beardy and artsy and those EYES. Sigh. (I also love Mallrats Jason Lee, but the movie’s not as good. It’s fine, I like it just fine, but there aren’t enough serious bits. I like the serious bits the most, you see.)

ALSO, can I just say, I refuse to accept that Kevin Smith decided that Banky was gay all along in Chasing Amy and announced that to the world in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back? No, thanks. It was better when it was up for interpretation. I don’t think Banky in Chasing Amy was gay; I think at the end of the movie, when he agrees to the threesome, he’s doing it because he’s staying true to the character he spent the movie creating; he’s a loyal friend, he loves Holden, he’s been Holden’s best friend for twenty years, and he sees that his best friend is close to breaking. When someone you love that much is close to the edge, you’ll do pretty much anything to pull them back, even if it’s not in your own best interest, because your own best interests need to take a backseat right then. Especially if you’re one of my tribe: my loyal-to-a-fault tribe. So, sure, Kevin Smith, if you say Banky was gay and that was the impetus for his actions in the movie, I guess I have to believe you, but I don’t think that was the character that Jason Lee was playing, and I think it’s unfair to the fans to decide that for them.

Retcon it if you want, but I've seen this movie a billion times, and this is a friendship to me. Pure & simple.

Retcon it if you want, but I’ve seen this movie a billion times, and this is a friendship to me. Pure & simple.

I may have spent a bit of time thinking about this.

Oh, shush, I have other plans today. I’m going to actually leave the house at some point and head on over to the library to get some books and return some books; I actually read a whole play this morning (I have like 25 of them to read this month; we’re in the middle of play selection for next season at the theater, so when I’m not doing one of my million other things, I’m reading reading READING all the plays, some of which are more successful than others) and at some point I have to make some food, or order some food. That’s still up in the air. You know what’s nice? Having money so I can make this decision. It’s the nicest. This is a very nice day off of laziness.

I want a BEBE SLOTH NECKLACE! ZOMG. This is the BEST.

I want a BEBE SLOTH NECKLACE! ZOMG. This is the BEST.

The cat is still under the tree. This is ok as long as he doesn’t decide he needs to groom himself. When THAT happens, the whole tree starts bopping around like it’s possessed and I have to say “DUMBCAT STOP DUMBCAT STOP GET OUT FROM UNDER THE TREE TO LICK.” And he doesn’t. He doesn’t take direction well, my boy. So I have to shoo him when that happens.

Here is a Dumbcat story. Did I tell you this? Over the fridge there is a little cabinet. It’s where I keep things I don’t use often. I think there are some vases in there. And maybe the popcorn popper, and the mixer. So one day a couple weeks ago I came home from work and that little cabinet door was standing open. I never open that door, so either I have a ghost, or…DUMBCAT!

It's kind of like this cabinet, only a lot less fancy. I don't live in a nice place, you see.

It’s kind of like this cabinet, only a lot less fancy. I don’t live in a nice place, you see.

So in order to get there, he’d have had to jump up on the kitchen counter (that’s probably…4 feet up? maybe a little more? I’m terrible at estimating height, I assume all women are 5’5 and all men are 6′ tall, it just makes things easier. I also can’t guess weight. I guess I’d make a terrible carny) and then hop up on the fridge (another couple of feet) and then move things out of the way (there’s a bag of cat toys and treats on top of the fridge, plus a box of napkins and a bottle of this vanilla coffee flavoring stuff Mom bought me once I have never used) and open the cabinet (it’s not so easy to open – but he has his polydactyl thumbs, you see. He can get into all kinds of cupboards. How do you think he gets into the pots and pans cupboard? He levers it open with his little thumbs. I’m not even kidding. When I lived with roommate C., the other cats used to look to him to get them into things. He’s like the more evolved version of a cat. Well, thumbs-wise, anyway. Brain-wise, he’s on the low-end of the spectrum. BUT HE IS BELOVED DAMMIT.

You could open cabinets, too, if you had boss thumbs like this. (NO, this isn't Dumbcat. But he has thumbs much like this.)

You could open cabinets, too, if you had boss thumbs like this. (NO, this isn’t Dumbcat. But he has thumbs much like this.)

So the first time, I was all “Aw! Dumbcat! Did you jump up like 6 feet and for some reason get into the teeny cupboard over the fridge? That’s…weird. Adorable, but weird. You’re so fat, how did you even fit in there?”

Dumbcat wants you to all know he’s not fat, he’s big-boned, and he resents that implication.

Then the next day the door was open again. And again the next day. And again and again. And a few days later, he’d apparently fallen off the fridge, because everything was knocked off the top of the fridge and every single thing I have on the fridge – magnets, things I’ve hung up there, all my fridge-crap – was on the floor.

“DUMBCAT! This is ENOUGH!” I said. He looked at me with wide Dumbcat-eyes. So I blocked off his pathway to the cupboard of his obsession with more things and strategically-placed items and it seems to have worked because nothing’s been moved since.

This is a weird cat. Do you think he was this weird when I got him, or it was the living with the weird human that made him weird? What came first, the weird-chicken or the weird-egg?

Chasing Amy is still happening. Things like “If this is a crush, I don’t think I could take it if the real thing ever happened” kind of still get to me. Dammit, Kevin Smith, this movie makes me all squishy. Is this really only fifteen years old? Good grief. Everyone in this looks about 14 years old and everyone’s smoking in public. I feel like maybe I’m super-old. I was just barely legally able to buy LIQUOR when this movie came out, I mean, seriously.

I know it's sappy. Shush. I'm a fan of movie-sap, sometimes. It's a thing about me.

I know it’s sappy. Shush. I’m a fan of movie-sap, sometimes. It’s a thing about me.

(Also, I know it was became very trendy to hate Ben Affleck for a while, and then now we’re all tentatively liking him again now that he’s legitimate and directing excellent intelligent movies. However, I never hated Ben Affleck, even when he was embroiled in that Bennifer nonsense. The reason was his collaboration with Kevin Smith. I could never hate Ben Affleck because of his work in this movie and Dogma. He won me for life with those two movies. Apparently my weirdo loyalty extends to celebrities as well. Although I have to say, his hair looks RIDICULOUS in this movie. IT IS SO TALL! It’s a PUFF of man-hair. It’s ARCHITECTURAL, this hairdo!)

OK, this is short, and very random, but it’s library-time and also I’d like to do some other things today, like maybe write something else, and send email to some people I love, and call Dad and see what’s up in Dad-land, and do some food-related preparation, and think about work next week, and start working on my top-secret Christmas plan that I want to have done for a week from Monday (shh, SECRET PLANS AND SCHEMES! My favorite kind!) and also maybe at some point I might want to start thinking about doing Christmas cards, maybe. SO MANY THINGS.

So this is what lazy days are like, right? Huh. I could get used to this. Easily. EASILY. Maybe Ken is onto something with this idling-being-awesome thing. Hmm. I should probably heed him more often, right? Shh, don’t tell him, though, he’ll get all full of himself. We wouldn’t want THAT, now, would we?

What’s that? He’s probably going to read this?

Ooh, crap, whoops.

25 comments | posted in Cats, Chasing Amy, Christmas, Jay & Silent Bob, Kevin Smith, memories, movies, Sunday

December 16, 2012

So deck those halls, trim those trees, raise up cups of Christmas cheer

By lucysfootball

Well, I finally did it.

No, not that.

NO, not that other thing.

I DECORATED FOR CHRISTMAS.

And now I am exhausted and I need a nap.

HOWEVER, I thought you’d all like to see the journey to Christmas cheer, Lucy’s Football style.

You would, right? Sure you would. Plus you kind of get a backhanded tour of my teeny-tiny totally messy home with things all over the place in it because I don’t know how to clean up and/or put things away and there’s no room for anything.

DRUMROLL PLEASE!

(Plus cue the Christmas music. Or put on a Christmas movie; I’m watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I had to keep stopping to watch it. Mostly the scene where they kiss for the first time. Oh, I like that so much.)

THE JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS CHEEEEEEEEER (ZOMG)

First I had to do the little things. I was working my way up to the tree. The thought of the tree was tiring. I worked all day today. And people were SHOUTY. And we had a lot of calloffs. And it was busy. And I have a headache, I can only assume due to not enough sleep this week. I hope to sleep for a billion hours tonight.

These are some candles. But they aren’t REALLY candles. They are ELECTRIC. Friend R. sent me these one year. I like them because they are cheery so I put them out in front of the television.

This is a weird snowman-thing. I don’t know where I got this but I found it in the Christmas crate and I was like, whatever, it wants to come out so it did. Also, there’s some bubble wrap. Andreas is totally jealous right now because he wants some bubble wrap to play a work-prank with. Sorry, Andreas, if you lived closer you could have that.

This is a random jingle bell I hang on the doorknob. It fascinates the cat and makes him go crazy. He thinks it means an angel is getting its wings, apparently, all season long or something, I don’t know. But whenever I come in or out, he RUNS over and looks at it like it’s the second coming. It’s quite worrisome.

This is Dumbcat looking up at the sound of the jingle bell. See? OBSESSED. That thing on the floor is his catnip fish. He used to love that until he licked out all the catnip smell so now it’s just a faded memory of something he used to love.

These are Christmas magnets on the stove. Why? I don’t know. Someone gave them to me once, and I was all, what the hell, the stove is metal.

christmas2012 007

THESE ARE MY MISTLETOADS.

Now, I love all things frogs and toads (and also turtles.) My mom knows this. So one year, she bought me this thing, and it’s HORRIBLE, yet I LOVE it. These are toads that have some wacky wordplay involved and they have plastic mistletoe over them. I think you’re supposed to kiss people under this. I’ll let you know if I ever get someone kissable in my house.

I love my mistletoads. You be quiet.

This is my stupid card-holder thing. It looks better once it’s filled with cards. There’s a turtle over it because the rest of the year, that’s where the turtle lives and I’m not going to move him for a month just because Santa is here, that’d be absurd.

Here, here’s what it looks like with cards in it. (I’ve gotten quite a few cards over the past month but wouldn’t open them until I hung this up. Here are some thing I learned when I opened them: one had a lot of money in it, and two were so covered in glitter there is now glitter all over where I eat my breakfast. One of these things was delightful yet a little worrisome and the other made me FURIOUS. Who thinks a card covered in glitter is a good idea? It’s like they HATED me for Christmas.)

I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the flash, so ignore the glare. See? With cards in it, it’s not as heinous. (I have another one of these around the corner from this one. It’s not this fancy. That one’s for overflow cards.)

This is my stocking. I just hang it up because it’s green and fuzzy. I can assure you I don’t assume Santa’s coming. It’s hanging from my turtle instrument thingy that The Nephew’s mom sent me from Jamaica. I don’t know how to play that thing but sometimes I make it make music and it makes Dumbcat come over and glare at me. So apparently it’s not pleasing music, then. That house-thing over it is supposed to tell you the weather but it’s broken so it always says it’s a heat wave. But my grandmother had one when I was little and I loved it, so I keep it around even though I can assure you the current temperature of 27 degrees is not a heat wave.

Ugh. That’s all the little crap. Now it’s time for the tree. Grumble grumble.

My cheap plastic tree is in two parts. Here’s the bottom part. And the best part of this photo is that I’m being stalked by the cat in the corner of the photo. With his evil glowing eyes. He totally wants to eat my soul.

Here’s the tree all plugged in. What, it’s pre-lit. I AM NOT SCREWING AROUND WITH YOU, CHRISTMAS. Also, putting lights on a tree is tiring. That’s a photo of my mom from high school up there. She had a bouffant. It makes me laugh. Also, we have the same smile.

Now, it’s time for…

What could it be? It looks OLD.

Hmm. It IS old. It was purchased from Ames, which went out of business about ten years ago. (If you are my grandmother, you called Ames “t’Ameses.” As in, “We’re going t’Ameses to buy some undershirts.”) And it cost $1.04. What the hell costs $1.04 nowadays? Nothing does, is what.

Wait, that’s not even the best thing about this.

christmas2012 017

It was made in WESTERN GERMANY! Well, THAT’S exciting. Kind of vague and could be anywhere in Western Germany, but I feel like this mystery thing traveled a long way to make it to me.

You’re so curious about this right now, aren’t you?

Ready? Ready to meet the best thing?

Well, wait no longer. Please let me introduce you to:

THE JAVELIN

This is THE JAVELIN. My brother and I call it this because one year, my mother replaced our traditional Christmas star on top of our tree with this thing. And my brother was all, “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. Where is our star? WHY IS THAT THING UP THERE?” And Mom was all, “I found this upstairs, I thought we’d change things up this year” and I said “Yeah, nothing screams Christmas cheer like topping your tree with a javelin.” Then my brother and I had an inappropriate giggle-fit for like an hour and every time we’d walk past the tree we’d be all “javelin!” and then laugh and laugh and Mom was all “STOP THAT” and then it went away and never came back until I bought my own tree and my Dad snuck this into my Christmas stuff so when I unpacked when I got home I was all “I OWN THE JAVELIN NOW!”

Also, it’s kind of an antique and it’s made of blown glass and I’m shocked I haven’t broken it yet.

And shh, don’t tell my mom, but it’s really kind of pretty. And I like that it’s German. It makes me feel all bon vivanty.

This is the tree topped by THE JAVELIN. See? It’s kind of nice. And also would be a very good weapon, in a pinch.

Then I had to take out all the ornaments. This takes a very long time and also means there’s a lot of reminiscing and also some giggling. You’ll see.

This is a Christmas cactus that BFF sent me. Aw, BFF. I love you and your joyous lit-up cactus.

This is a plastic Grimace from McDonalds they were giving away in 1983 (I only know this from the back of the ornament, it’s not like I’ve memorized this) in Happy Meals. It’s SO TACKY. Which is why when my mom was throwing it away, I was all, NO DON’T YOU EVEN DARE and I ganked it from the trash. A purple plastic 80s Grimace! Who has one of these on their tree? Probably only me. I’m ok with that.

christmas2012 026

Friend R. made me this one year. It’s an ark! With my NAME on it!

christmas2012 025

She also made me this. I think this penguin is supposed to be eating a fish but mostly it looks like there’s some naughty interspecies blowjobbery going on. It’s a Christmas EUPHEMISM.

This is the best thing, because see how it’s all blurry? That’s because you plug it into a Christmas light and Winnie the Pooh and friends go around and around in the little snow globe thingy. It makes me smile.

This is my leg lamp that friend Mer gave me last year. I love it irrationally. Also, this photo is very artsy and I think should win awards.

This is a Christmas frog wearing a scarf. I have six of these things. Did I mention I like frogs? Because I DO.

christmas2012 034

This is a very adorable penguin that I love. Look at that face. Aw, you GUYS!

I find things like this in some of the ornaments and then I cry a little every year. See, my grandmother loved Christmas. Loved, loved, LOVED. She went all out every year. She decorated better than anyone in the world. And we’d all give her ornaments as gifts. And she’d write things in them to remind her who gave her each one. So I got some of them when she passed away, and when I open some of them I find notes in my grandmother’s handwriting, and then I feel like she’s here with me. I miss her the most. She was joyous, my grandmother. And brave and wicked and funny and intelligent and she loved me so ferociously. I miss her at Christmas the most.

Then I found this, and I was lost; ALL the tears. Because last year I thought I’d lost it but really it was under another thing and I found it.

My grandmother had these things made for each of her grandkids when we were born. Then every year, it was a tradition for her to have us each put up our own ornament with our name on it when we came to her house for Christmas Eve. She’d say, “did you put up your ornament?” and as we got older, we’d roll our eyes, but we always did it. (We were too cool for school, you see.)

So when she passed away all the grandkids got their own ornaments and now I have my own ornament and I put it up on my own tree and last year I thought I lost it and I was kind of heartbroken but then I found it. Look. It’s a Christmas miracle. I don’t think we’re supposed to be crying while we decorate the tree, are we? Probably not.

Let’s talk about something happier. This is my best thing. Every year I take this out and I laugh and laugh. And it’s another thing my mom was going to throw away. That makes me mad. Why doesn’t she care about heritage, I ask you?

When my brother was little, he hated all things artsy. Like chorus and art class and pretty much anything but gym and maybe learning a little math. School was not my brother’s favorite.

So one year, at Christmas, they “forced” (per my brother) the class to make ornaments for their parents. Here’s my brother’s. He was probably 4 or 5 at the time.

IT IS THE PISSIEST SOLDIER EVER.

Look at this thing’s mad face! SO MAD! It also perfectly sums up my brother in one little craft. This is the face my brother makes most days. I like that thirty years or so ago, my brother was already this little cranky person, AND HE HAS NOT CHANGED.

I put this on my tree every year. Happily.

NOW WE ARE DONE. The tree is decorated! WAIT! You want a big picture, right? Sure you do.

From far away…

Artsy closeup shot…

So pretty, right? SO PRETTY.

Then, THEN, the MINUTE I WALKED AWAY, this happened.

He’s been under the tree since I finished with it. He is currently sound asleep under it. He apparently has more Christmas spirit than ANYONE. He’s in LOVE with the tree. In LOVE.

There you go. MY HOUSE IS DECORATED. And at the end of the month, I have to take it all down. I don’t…let’s not think about that right now.

MERRY NINE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS MY LITTLE PETITS FOURS!

16 comments | posted in Cats, Christmas, holidays, memories

December 8, 2012

What do you want to be?

By lucysfootball

“When you’re drowning you don’t think, ‘I would be incredibly pleased if someone would notice I’m drowning and come and rescue me.’ You just scream.” –John Lennon

I did this last year. I’m not going to do it again this year; I’m happy with how it turned out last year, and I honestly don’t have anything else to say that I didn’t say last year.

Every year, December 8 hits, and every year, I get a mean case of the blues. It’s not like I don’t know it’s coming and it’s not like I can avoid an entire day. Well, I suppose I COULD, but I have to go to work and live life and such. It’s generally frowned upon to drop off the map for 24 hours, I suppose.

I guess I would have the blue meanies, then. These things always freaked me right out.

I guess I would have the blue meanies, then. These things always freaked me right out.

So instead of me repeating myself, you can just read last year’s post (for the first time, some of you, and again, if you want, the rest of you, I suppose) and I’ll just give you three Beatles songs to listen to. I don’t know if they’re my favorites, but they’re the ones I’ve had in my head for the past couple of weeks. (A secret about me? I almost always have a Beatles song rolling around in my head. Even if I’m thinking or doing or singing something else. True story.)

And what’s funny is, every time one of these songs pops up, not just these, but the others, so many beautiful others, and starts rolling around in my head like a snowball getting bigger and bigger – it’s like a whole new song. But it’s not a whole new song. It’s me that’s changed. The song stayed exactly the same, waiting for me to get to the point in my life where I was ready for it to mean this exact thing for me. I love that. I don’t know that there are too many other bands, or even musicians, that do this for me. Which is probably a failing more in me than the music, but that’s really neither here nor there, now is it?

Then I will give you two things that will make you giggle. Because we all need a laugh now and then. I know I do, today.

“You know I can’t sleep, I can’t stop my brain
You know it’s three weeks, I’m going insane
You know I’d give you everything I’ve got for a little peace of mind”

This has been my song for months. It’s gotten better since new job started, but I still have “can’t stop my brain” nights. And I often would give everything in the whole world for a little peace of mind. It’s the curse of those of us who can’t turn our brains off. Brains don’t come with off-buttons.

“How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?
Now that you know who you are, what do you want to be?”

I listened to this one a lot in high school. A LOT. But I wasn’t this person then. And then just recently, I listened to it again and this line just knocked the air right out of me. Because I do know who I am now. And this is giving me permission to figure out what I want to do with that.

I don’t know that I’ll ever be one of the beautiful people. But knowing who I am is so much better than that for me, anyway. Suck it, beautiful people.

“I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me…”

This song, man. The melancholy in this song gets me every time. This one’s been in my head a lot lately. It does that. It goes away and comes back and I’ll get “this bird has flown” circling around my mind and it’s like the swallows coming back to Capistrano or something.

Aw, hi, little swallow.

Aw, hi, little swallow.

There. Those aren’t the happiest songs ever but I’m pretty sure you’re all internet-savvy enough that if you want something happier, you know how to YouTube it yourself. I have every faith in you. (I don’t have anything against happy songs. They’re just not in my head today. I’m sure I’ll get something more upbeat all up in there any day now.)

I promised you cheery, didn’t I? I don’t like to lie to you, my little tater tots. Here, I found these things for you. They should take some of the sting out of the terrible waste of the day that is today.

Apparently, someone (or multiple someones, I don’t know) have been taking Beatles pictures, captioning them with Mean Girls quotes, and things like this happen (which is going to only be funny for those of you who know/love Mean Girls, sorry, Ken, I think you’re out of this one…unless you’re going to surprise me with “Amy, I’ve SO seen Mean Girls” like the time you surprised me with your extensive knowledge of Pauly Shore’s tour de force, Son-in-Law):

SHE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE!!!

SHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE!!!

Click the link up there for more. Again, I don’t know how many Mean Girls-slash-Beatles fans you’re going to find in the world – seven? I’ve made up that number and that number is seven – but they’re kind of oddly entertaining for the seven of us there are.

Then I found this one, and…um. HAND CROTCH SLACKS!

Apparently years ago Yoko Ono made a men’s wear line for men built like John Lennon, and now it’s being sold. These pants are only $335. And they come with a HAND. Right on the crotch-area! Which is handy (heh, handy) if you wanted to give someone some direction as to where to grab, I suppose. Or if you wanted to say, in an understated way, “I’m a huge douchecanoe.”

There are other things. You should click the link. Highlights are a thing you wear around your neck that looks like a sandwich board made of Plexiglass with bells on it and a pair of slacks with a mesh cutout in the ass-area. I don’t know, either.

It’s nice to know that good old Yoko is still kooky and thinks of things like hand crotch slacks.

I’m going to listen to some Beatles music now and be a little sad. It’s December 8. That’s what I do today. Love your faces. Thank you to my people who save me when I’m drowning. I wouldn’t even have to scream. Please be nice to each other, everyone, ok? Every day, but maybe just a little more today? Thanks.

8 comments | posted in anniversary, death, memories, music, sad

December 6, 2012

Christmas, mangled up in tangled-up knots

By lucysfootball

Last night I was sitting at home and writing (as one does) and Elf came on. I haven’t seen it in a while so I watched it again. It still made me happy. That was pleasing, because sometimes I re-watch something and I think, “hmm. I must have been ovulating when I watched that the first time because WHAT THE HELL, ME.”

I’m not one of those “I HATE CHRISTMAS GRUMP GRUMP!” people, but I’m not a huge fan of most Christmas movies. Christmas movies are usually way too sappy and make me want to strangle kittens and throw cookies at the screen. WHAT A WASTE OF COOKIES. They’re always about things like finding the true meaning of Christmas and there is always an adorable child and someone always saves the day and everything’s always so damn PERFECT. I don’t like perfection. I like messy. My life’s messy, why do I want to watch something that’s all perfect and everyone’s coming home for Christmas and everyone’s all happy-happy joy-joy? NO THANK YOU.

PERFECT CHRISTMAS! Blergh.

PERFECT CHRISTMAS! Blergh.

I do have a handful of Christmas movies I actually really like and watch every year. Well, movies and cartoons. I lump them all together into one. They’re CHRISTMAS-STUFF. Every year, I watch these things during the Christmas season; every year, they make me happy. Or at least less grumpy. Less filled with holiday malaise, I guess.

This year Christmas is going to be weird; I haven’t put up the decorations yet (because the maintenance men have been in and out of here so much and my silly tree would be all in the way so I’ve waited until they were done; I think they’re done now, though, so I suppose I can start decorating. It just seems like such a waste of TIME, though. I have to take it all DOWN at the end of the MONTH, you know? SIGH SIGH) and I’m not going home for Christmas and although that’s fine, and this year it’s what needs to happen, it’s only the second time I’ve had to do that, and the first time was pretty melancholy, so I can only assume this time will be, too. Although it will be nice to have a whole day off just for me where I can be slothful. I will miss seeing The Nephew at Christmas, though. Kiddos at Christmas are magical, all big eyes and excitement. Especially the ones in your family. I mean, maybe other people’s children are adorable, too, but I only care about MINE. And the ones belonging to the people I love, of course. Sorry, all others, my heart only stretches so far.

Oh, sorry, kid, I'm sure you're lovely. I SAID I WAS SORRY. STOP CRYING ALREADY.

Oh, sorry, kid, I’m sure you’re lovely. I SAID I WAS SORRY. STOP CRYING ALREADY.

However, I have PLANS, and SCHEMES, about how I’m going to spend the day. I cannot say what they are because they relate to people who are most likely READING THIS RIGHT NOW so shush, me. See, Christmas has to be postponed for me, gift-shopping-wise, this year, because I don’t get my first paycheck from the new job until RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS ZOMG? But it’s going to be a GOOD one. So I’m going to spend my Christmas day working on my epic “Christmas in January” plans for my loved ones. Exciting, right? Also, I have some people who are getting internetty things for Christmas so I will be working on THOSE that day, too. So the day will be CHOCK FULL OF FUN.

ANYWAY, here’s a list of my Christmas must-sees. We talked about some of these a little last year, but when better to talk about them AGAIN. (And as much as I loved Elf, and Will Ferrell will always make me giggle, I don’t know if it made THE LIST. Will Ferrell was great, but the jury’s still out as to whether or not it’s a repeated classic or not. Although Will Ferrell telling the false Santa he smells like beef and cheese and that he sits on a throne of lies is undeniably awesome. And also when he says he loves smiling and smiling’s his favorite. That makes me giggle every time. And nod, because smiling is also MY favorite! ALSO PETER DINKLAGE AND AMY SEDARIS ARE IN IT. So that’s the best. We’ll see what happens next year, now won’t we? So Elf’s NOT on the list, but it’s not being OFFICIALLY left off. Consider Elf being in the imaginary footnotes or something.)

It’s a Wonderful Life – sorry, I’m a huge old sap and I love this movie like crazy. I have to watch it twice a year. Once while wrapping gifts and once on Christmas Eve. I’m not 100% sure what would happen if I didn’t do this. Maybe the world would stop spinning, I’m not sure. But I’m sure as hell not risking it. I love George Bailey and I love how effing NOBLE he is and every time he almost gets to get out of Bedford Falls but things fall through, I cry. EVERY DAMN TIME. And I love the scene where he and Mary kiss for the first time and I love how grumpy he is at the beginning of it with his “I see it still smells like PINE NEEDLES around here.” And I love the end. Oh, do I love the end. The end makes me just weep. When his brother comes in, and George realizes his brother’s not dead after all? When everyone comes through with the money? When he’s the richest man in town? Shut up, I’m all weepy just WRITING this. It’s my best Christmas movie. BEST BEST BEST. If any of you ever watch this with me, you’re going to see me weeping. Fair warning, and I’m not even apologizing for it.

I don’t want any PLASTICS and I don’t want any GROUND FLOORS and I don’t want to get married EVER, do you hear me?

How the Grinch Stole Christmas – now, just so we’re CLEAR, there is only ONE version of this. I refuse to even ACKNOWLEDGE that terrible Jim Carrey nonsense. He looked like he was wearing a green BEAR suit. A CREEPY green bear suit. No, the only version that matters is the one with cartoons and Boris Karloff’s creepy wonderful narration. With the Grinch slithering around stealing the gifts and whipping poor reindeer-Max to make him run faster and his HEART breaking the MEASURING DEVICE and his Grinch-feet getting cold in the snow and little Cindy Lou Who, who was no more than two. THAT’s the only Grinch. I own it. I also watch this one at least twice a season. It makes me weepy, too. “Maybe Christmas, he thought, meant a little bit more.” “And he, he the Grinch himself, carved the roast beast.” I can’t hear the first lines – who knows them? Quick, no Googling? TOO SLOW! “Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot. But the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, DID NOT” – without getting chills. Sorry to give you false impressions, but sometimes the things you grow up with are still the best. And every Christmas, I need to watch a pissy green monster learn the true meaning of Christmas from a bunch of overly-loud pious gibberish-spouting alien-people.

A Wish for Wings That Work – I mentioned this last year and I’m going to be very surprised if any of you have seen this. It’s virtually impossible to find now, and as far as I know never made it to DVD. (HOLY HELL IT’S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE! It IS on DVD! I know what I’m buying with one of my hoarded Amazon gift cards this year!) My copy was illegally recorded from a videotape when I worked at the video store in grad school and the quality isn’t stellar. I still watch it every Christmas. I still weep over it every Christmas. (Are you sensing a theme? The top four movies/cartoons make me cry. The bottom two don’t, I just like them. Promise.) This is a cartoon by Berkeley Breathed about Opus the Penguin and Bill the Cat and how the only only ONLY thing that Opus wants for Christmas is to be able to fly. And it’s HEARTBREAKING. And also hopeful. And very very funny. (I still quote this cartoon sometimes. It has some very good lines. Luckily, no one else has seen it so they think I’m just being witty and intelligent.) Also, you GUYS! It’s about a PENGUIN! Who has wings that only SPUTTER (not flutter!) If you can find it somewhere, I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Love, Actually – oh, shush, I know, it’s SAPPY and it’s ROMANTIC and it’s probably making you all disgusted in me but I love it so much. Even my coal-black heart cannot help but be moved by Andrew Lincoln holding up the signs for Kiera Knightley and then WALKING AWAY FROM HER. Because it was for the BEST. Come on already. SO MANY TEARS. Or Liam Neeson’s sad dead wife! Or the awesomeness of Bill Nighy! Or the PRIME MINISTER OF ENGLAND going DOOR TO DOOR looking for his lost love! Or my beautiful Colin Firth and his inability to talk to the woman he loves! Come on. This is a heartbreaking movie. I even love the weird porn plot because it has my Martin Freeman in it and he’s so adorably awkward. I know it’s only remotely Christmas-related but it’s one of my Christmas movies. It gives me hope. SHUSH I SAID.

Oh, eff. This gets me EVERY TIME. SHUSH I SAID!

Oh, eff. This gets me EVERY TIME. SHUSH I SAID!

A Miracle on 34th Street – only the original here, please. The remake was fine, but give me the original with the luminous Natalie Wood every damn time. This movie doesn’t make me cry (well, ok, maybe a LITTLE, at the END, with the HOUSE that SANTA got for her, come on, just a FEW tears, with her running around with her adorable wide eyes and she finally believed and it’s kind of magical) but I love it. I love the courtroom scene and I love Santa and I love that it’s set in New York City and I love when Santa sings to the little Dutch girl in her own language and I love when he hits the douchebag psychiatrist over the head with his cane and I love when he gets gum in his beard and I love when he teaches little serious Natalie Wood how to pretend and I love when she says, in this totally adult dead-soul voice, “I believe, I believe, it’s silly but I believe” and her mother realizes she’s done an injustice by not allowing her daughter to have any dreams. And listen, I’m so not a fan of old movies. Not at all. But this one’s special. I don’t watch this one EVERY year, but if I happen to catch it on TV, I watch the whole thing. Every time. Can’t help myself.

A Christmas Story – it’s just not Christmas if I don’t watch this on the TBS marathon at least once. I need to see Ralphie beating up Scut Farkus (who, by the way, turned out PRETTY, yo, I do so love my ginger boys)…

Seriously, right? RAWR.

Seriously, right? RAWR.

…and cussing and cussing; I need to see Randy wearing so many layers that he can’t get up HE CAN’T GET UP!; I need to see Ralphie going blind from SOAP POISONING!; I need to see Ralphie shoot his eye out. I’ve seen it so many times I probably know most of the lines by heart. Don’t care. It’s comforting and it makes me happy. It’s been part of my Christmas for years.

Show me how the little piggies eat!

Show me how the little piggies eat!

This has gotten very long. ANYWAY. On my Christmas of sloth and laziness (which, let’s be honest, I always SAY my days off will be filled with such but I haven’t just SAT and done NOTHING for YEARS, I’m sure things will be as busy as always, but with more ho-ho-ho-ing and the ability to tweet since I’m not at work) (NOT THAT KIND OF HO HO HO-ING THAT IS NOT WHAT CHRISTMAS IS FOR) (well, maybe it’s what YOUR Christmas is for, I don’t know your life) I’m sure I’ll be watching at least one of these. If not more.

Nineteen more days! I think I need some Grinch soon, though. It’s getting to be around that time. His brain is full of SPIDERS! He has garlic in his SOUL!

37 comments | posted in Christmas, holidays, lists, memories, movies

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