Here we go:
The Mission:
Complete 101 preset tasks in a period of 1001 days.
The Criteria:
Tasks must be specific (ie. no ambiguity in the wording) with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Tasks must also be realistic and stretching (ie. represent some amount of work on my part).
Why 1001 Days?
Many people have created lists in the past - frequently simple goals such as New Year's resolutions. The key to beating procrastination is to set a deadline that is realistic. 1001 Days (about 2.75 years) is a better period of time than a year, because it allows you several seasons to complete the tasks, which is better for organising and timing some tasks such as overseas trips or outdoor activities.
Some common goal setting tips:
1. Be decisive. Know exactly what you want, why you want it, and how you plan to achieve it.
2. Stay Focussed. Any goal requires sustained focus from beginning to end. Constantly evaluate your progress.
3. Welcome Failure. Frequently, very little is learned from a venture that did not experience failure in some form. Failure presents the opportunity to learn and makes the success more worthy.
4. Write down your goals. It clarifies your thinking and reinforces your commitment.5. Keep your goals in sight. Review them frequently, and ensure that they are always at the forefront of your thinking.
MY START DATE: October 1, 2009
MY END DATE: June 28, 2012
MY LIST:
FEATS OF STRENGTH
1. Run the marathon
2. Drink only water for a month
3. Try yoga
4. Work out everyday for a full month
5. Learn entirety of "Single Ladies" dance
6. Lose 20 pounds
7. Go 30 days without any sweets
8. Try a spin class
ADVENTURELAND
9. Go to West Coast
10. Look out the window when I fly
11. Get a psychic reading
12. Go whale watching
13. Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center
14. Milk a cow
15. Go a week without buying anything
16. Go to a Bingo night
17. Learn to do a cartwheel
18. Try a Hot Toddy
19. Do a 1000 piece puzzle
20. Climb Charles Mound (highest natural point in Illinois)
21. Climb a mountain
22. Swim in the ocean again
23. Buy scalped tickets to a ridiculous concert
24. Go to Sonic
25. Attend a burlesque show
26. Go to Field Museum
27. Sing karaoke
28. Go to a different country
29. See an opera
30. Go to 3 new states
31. Watch all of James Stewart's movies
32. Watch all Best Picture winners
33. See the Nutcracker ballet
34. Go to a football game
I'M VERY LITERARY ANYHOW
35. Read and finish a book I know I will hate
36. Read Faulkner
37. Read all the books I own but haven't read yet
38. Read Lord of the Rings books
I THINK NORMAL PEOPLE DO THESE THINGS ANYWAY
39. Go to the dentist twice a year
40. Get a massage
41. Learn to cook five meat dishes
42. Learn to tie a tie
43. Go to a Blackhawks game
44. Take pictures in front of ten major Chicago landmarks
45. Have dinner in Pilsen or Bridgeport
46. Watch an entire series on DVD
47. Go apple picking
48. Open a savings account
49. Catch up with all the work in my inbox
50. Get my passport
51. Make a basic will
52. Pay off a credit card
53. Get a pedicure
54. Get fitted for running shoes
55. Buy a bathing suit
I'M KIND OF AN ARTIST
56. Take Annoyance classes.
57. Audition for three things a year
58. Play Freeze
59. Be an extra
60. Take and frame a photgraph (not of people)
61. Get headshots done
62. Print out all important pictures
63. Make a wedding cake (wedding optional)
64. Learn an authentic Regency dance
65. Finish Britney show
66. Sell a cake
67. Make a pumpkin pie from fresh pumpkin
68. Make bread from my mother's recipe
69. Coach
I'LL MAKE SOME MAN VERY HAPPY SOME DAY
70. Complete a separate list of ten items
71. Organize closet
72. Paint dining room chairs
73. Learn to knit
74. Make a sweater
75. Try 101 new recipes
76. Make my own Christmas cards
77. Purchase a Kitchen Aid mixer
78. Sew something wearable
79. Learn to grill
YOU MAKE ME WANT TO BE A BETTER MAN
80. Send my mother flowers
81. Send my sister a surprise
82. Give five "just because" gifts
83. Send 25 cards/postcards
84. Tell someone who deserves it to f off
85. See a sing-a-long movie
86. See an old movie in the theatre
87. Learn to play poker
88. Donate toys for Christmas
89. Grant someone a wish
90. Take a baby I know on a baby date
91. Tip the cost of a meal
92. Call one old friend a month
93. Donate blood
94. Volunteer for Obama campaign in 2012
95. Volunteer 40 hours
96. Make scarves and hats for the homeless
97. Jet ski
98. Organize papers/memory crap but not into like a scrapbook, ick
99. Paint something
100. Save $5 for every task completed
101. Donate five dollars for each item on list not completed
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
101 Things in 1001 days, or "My Own Bucket List"
Kara and I have decided to do 101 Things in 1001 days.
Basically, as Kara explains this, you have a list of 101 things you want to accomplish in the next 1001 days. These things range from small to big things. She said the last time she did it, she had "return library books" on it but also "travel to Europe." Makes sense.
I think this is a good idea, as I have no goals and could probably use something motivational in my life. So I have jumped right on this idea. I also decided to reactivate my blog in order to document this process, because that is what the internet is for.
So, list is forthcoming as we will begin work on October 1st. We're also open to others who'd like to join in. Rock.
Basically, as Kara explains this, you have a list of 101 things you want to accomplish in the next 1001 days. These things range from small to big things. She said the last time she did it, she had "return library books" on it but also "travel to Europe." Makes sense.
I think this is a good idea, as I have no goals and could probably use something motivational in my life. So I have jumped right on this idea. I also decided to reactivate my blog in order to document this process, because that is what the internet is for.
So, list is forthcoming as we will begin work on October 1st. We're also open to others who'd like to join in. Rock.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
An Open Letter to John Mayer
Dear Grammy Winning and Multi-Platinum Columbia Recording Artist John Mayer,
I hope this Twittering about welding a ring for your girlfriend is a publicity stunt for your highly anticipated (by me and Molly) variety show, or better yet, not even you. How many John C. Mayers are there in the world? Probably more than one. I can't even get any kind of variation on Mel Evans as an e-mail address, never mind mevans, so I kind of doubt the famous John Mayer got the Twitter account of their own name. Or maybe they hold it for famous people, what do I know.
The point is: you don't want to get into this marriage thing, and we've talked a lot about your taste in women, and I think you particularly don't want to get into this marriage thing with someone who, chances are, might possibly have some marriage issues. I am just saying. Not telling you how to live your life. Because really, you're just going to go straight from her to some twit on the new "90210," am I right?
I hope you haven't gotten far enough in your self-Googling to read my blog,
Melissa Kate Elaine Evans
I hope this Twittering about welding a ring for your girlfriend is a publicity stunt for your highly anticipated (by me and Molly) variety show, or better yet, not even you. How many John C. Mayers are there in the world? Probably more than one. I can't even get any kind of variation on Mel Evans as an e-mail address, never mind mevans, so I kind of doubt the famous John Mayer got the Twitter account of their own name. Or maybe they hold it for famous people, what do I know.
The point is: you don't want to get into this marriage thing, and we've talked a lot about your taste in women, and I think you particularly don't want to get into this marriage thing with someone who, chances are, might possibly have some marriage issues. I am just saying. Not telling you how to live your life. Because really, you're just going to go straight from her to some twit on the new "90210," am I right?
I hope you haven't gotten far enough in your self-Googling to read my blog,
Melissa Kate Elaine Evans
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Basic Eight Challenge Days 1 - 5: You're lucky to be alive
My dear Dice and I were lamenting one day in late December how we would like to cut out some of our vices. Dicey wanted to cut back on the drinking, and I said I would like to quit smoking. If only, we said, someone would pay us to do that! We decided to have a contest with each other: we'd quit our respective vice and whoever gave in first would have to buy the other one dinner. We asked the rest of the Basic Eight to join in, and The Basic Eight Challenge was born.
If you're keeping score at home, Curt is challenging himself to run 25 miles a week, Kara is challenging herself to do six hours of cardio a week, and Amy is challenging herself to work out five times a week. This is all on the honor system. I have already cried over it once. Don't worry about it.
So, we started the Challenge on January 2nd. I smoked my last cigarette on January 1st at about 11 PM. And it was probably sometime around 7 PM on Saturday that I started plotting murders.
Friday was okay. It's easy enough not to smoke for a few hours, and I was doing stuff all day, so that was fine. I ate nine cupcakes over the course of the day, but I was still okay.
Saturday not so much. I cut it down to only five cupcakes, but I was still a little testy.
Sunday, shit went down. People got yelled at for no reason. I cried for about ten minutes before Jane Austen rehearsal, for no reason, but realizing the entire time that I had to get it in before rehearsal actually started, because when we cry in rehearsal, our coach gets very "League of Their Own" about it. He doesn't yell at us, but I mean, come on, the coach isn't going to like ladies crying during rehearsal any way you slice it. I cut it down to two cupcakes, and thanks to Improvised Jane Austen, that was the end of my cupcakes, but I did eat a piece and a half of cheesecake. The nicotine is, by the way, officially out of my system on this day.
Monday was just as bad. I cried at work thanks to some confusion with the rules of the Challenge (I did NOT smoke a cigarette though), I had a psychosomatic heart attack (common occurrence when I quit smoking) and I started openly threatening to hit people. I go home, find the elliptical occupied when working out is the only thing that makes me feel normal for a few minutes, and go to my room, cry, and work out to a Billy Blanks video instead. Note: Billy Blanks sucks now that he is all Zen. I want to punch some shit. Also, it's hard to do Tae Bo when you have exactly four square feet available to you. I spend the day hazy and cotton-brained, and go to sleep as soon as the opportunity presents itself.
That brings us to Tuesday, today, I think. I am still full of blood lust, and I still want to punch. I have not eaten any cupcakes. I have also not smoked a cigarette. I am starting to think I deserve more than some Pad Thai for this torture though. And that is coming from someone who is going to weigh 500 pounds by the end of the month.
If you're keeping score at home, Curt is challenging himself to run 25 miles a week, Kara is challenging herself to do six hours of cardio a week, and Amy is challenging herself to work out five times a week. This is all on the honor system. I have already cried over it once. Don't worry about it.
So, we started the Challenge on January 2nd. I smoked my last cigarette on January 1st at about 11 PM. And it was probably sometime around 7 PM on Saturday that I started plotting murders.
Friday was okay. It's easy enough not to smoke for a few hours, and I was doing stuff all day, so that was fine. I ate nine cupcakes over the course of the day, but I was still okay.
Saturday not so much. I cut it down to only five cupcakes, but I was still a little testy.
Sunday, shit went down. People got yelled at for no reason. I cried for about ten minutes before Jane Austen rehearsal, for no reason, but realizing the entire time that I had to get it in before rehearsal actually started, because when we cry in rehearsal, our coach gets very "League of Their Own" about it. He doesn't yell at us, but I mean, come on, the coach isn't going to like ladies crying during rehearsal any way you slice it. I cut it down to two cupcakes, and thanks to Improvised Jane Austen, that was the end of my cupcakes, but I did eat a piece and a half of cheesecake. The nicotine is, by the way, officially out of my system on this day.
Monday was just as bad. I cried at work thanks to some confusion with the rules of the Challenge (I did NOT smoke a cigarette though), I had a psychosomatic heart attack (common occurrence when I quit smoking) and I started openly threatening to hit people. I go home, find the elliptical occupied when working out is the only thing that makes me feel normal for a few minutes, and go to my room, cry, and work out to a Billy Blanks video instead. Note: Billy Blanks sucks now that he is all Zen. I want to punch some shit. Also, it's hard to do Tae Bo when you have exactly four square feet available to you. I spend the day hazy and cotton-brained, and go to sleep as soon as the opportunity presents itself.
That brings us to Tuesday, today, I think. I am still full of blood lust, and I still want to punch. I have not eaten any cupcakes. I have also not smoked a cigarette. I am starting to think I deserve more than some Pad Thai for this torture though. And that is coming from someone who is going to weigh 500 pounds by the end of the month.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
2008: A Year of Tears in Review
I figure I should probably do this. It is not very interesting. OBAMA!
January
This month is notable because Dice and I spent the bulk of it singing Timbaland’s “The Way I Are” to each other.
February
What a month! Tucker Max had a bachelorette auction, and shockingly, someone paid money for me. Also, I wore a really awesome dress. It involved fringe. Tucker Max was doing so specifically to raise money for DSIF, which we closed out the month by attending. It was fun. We had good barbeque and political discussions. And Basic Eight did a show that included scenes involving a Mystery Flavored Dum-Dum and a gay club that Mary Beth still talks about. The Movie finishes its run at iO, sadly. Shit goes down at work, and I cry a lot.
March
My Harold team Swoon is cut and then, I am cut. I cry in the box office while eating a Power Bar. I am put on the Rabble. Birthdays were celebrated this month, including Amy’s, which was marked by Christopher making the biggest pot of chili known to man. I run the Shamrock Shuffle, after never having run more than two miles continuously in my life. And my time is nothing to sneeze at either.
April
I am sure something exciting happened this month, but I cannot remember what that could possibly be. I don't go home for Easter; my mother and I cry copiously over this. I spend the holiday with the Basic Eight instead. We enjoy Celebrity.
May
I traveled for the first time ever for work. I went to scenic Virginia. It was boring. I aced my Manville training and test though, I will tell you. I am glad I traveled approximately 800 miles to do so. Also, my mama has her birthday and Baby Daniel turns the big 1.
June
I am sure something interesting happened this month, but it’s mostly been edited for content.
July
The 4th of July! The Riot has a fun party at the Playground for which the Basic Eight recreates The Crucible. I see John Mayer in concert for the third time, and I think I walk away a better human being for having seen him play Van Halen’s “Panama” sans shirt.
August
A busy month. I go home for a week before and after the Del Close marathon, which results in me getting pictures with Baby Daniel in my Mythbusters shirt. Also, my mom and sister get to see me improvise. Tigers tear it up at Del Close. Michael Phelps, who I have followed for the past eight years, wins eight gold medals, and I think I can die happy. Alexander de Pate, on the other hand, does not win gold. But is still my favorite diver. I run Race Judicata just to prove I still can run. I also watch the Democratic National Convention and weep with pride for New Jersey, and for Barack Obama, and even Hillary Clinton.
September
Shit gets real this month. Lauren gets into her accident. Other crap that has been edited for content happens. I exit the month of September ten pounds lighter, more than slightly sleep deprived, and prone to tears.
October
The Halloween show opens and it gives me great joy to share the stage with Dice and all five of his polo shirts every week. And I sing! A line! On stage! That never happened before – they cut my solo in my high school production of “Bye Bye Birdie.” (Seriously. They made it an ensemble piece.) I also begin volunteering for Barack Obama’s campaign, canvassing in Indiana and Michigan and phone banking whenever possible. I have never volunteered for an individual politician before. And I come from a political family. [of Republicans.] That is how firmly I believe.
November
Obviously, I am proud to vote and see Obama elected and spend Election Night in Grant Park. I can say without hyperbole that it is one of the most amazing days of my life. Everyone is talking about it; we know. It’s history. We saw it. It is the most special thing to happen all year.
Unrelated to that magic though: The Rabble is cut. It is very sad. I am put on a new team. I go home for Thanksgiving; dinner is transported in a red wagon.
December
We stepped into Christmas and Basic Eight started working on our first written show. My sister celebrates her birthday. Baby Tommy Hennessy was born and Auntie Rose passed away at 92. Mike Click was finally absolved of the Justin Timberlake incident. RBG has an amazing first show, through no fault of my own. And overall? Things are looking better. Much better.
Incidentally, my horoscope this week said that "2009 will be more joyful and less tearful than 2008." I am not making that up. And I think it will be.
2009 will be just fine. Fingers crossed.
January
This month is notable because Dice and I spent the bulk of it singing Timbaland’s “The Way I Are” to each other.
February
What a month! Tucker Max had a bachelorette auction, and shockingly, someone paid money for me. Also, I wore a really awesome dress. It involved fringe. Tucker Max was doing so specifically to raise money for DSIF, which we closed out the month by attending. It was fun. We had good barbeque and political discussions. And Basic Eight did a show that included scenes involving a Mystery Flavored Dum-Dum and a gay club that Mary Beth still talks about. The Movie finishes its run at iO, sadly. Shit goes down at work, and I cry a lot.
March
My Harold team Swoon is cut and then, I am cut. I cry in the box office while eating a Power Bar. I am put on the Rabble. Birthdays were celebrated this month, including Amy’s, which was marked by Christopher making the biggest pot of chili known to man. I run the Shamrock Shuffle, after never having run more than two miles continuously in my life. And my time is nothing to sneeze at either.
April
I am sure something exciting happened this month, but I cannot remember what that could possibly be. I don't go home for Easter; my mother and I cry copiously over this. I spend the holiday with the Basic Eight instead. We enjoy Celebrity.
May
I traveled for the first time ever for work. I went to scenic Virginia. It was boring. I aced my Manville training and test though, I will tell you. I am glad I traveled approximately 800 miles to do so. Also, my mama has her birthday and Baby Daniel turns the big 1.
June
I am sure something interesting happened this month, but it’s mostly been edited for content.
July
The 4th of July! The Riot has a fun party at the Playground for which the Basic Eight recreates The Crucible. I see John Mayer in concert for the third time, and I think I walk away a better human being for having seen him play Van Halen’s “Panama” sans shirt.
August
A busy month. I go home for a week before and after the Del Close marathon, which results in me getting pictures with Baby Daniel in my Mythbusters shirt. Also, my mom and sister get to see me improvise. Tigers tear it up at Del Close. Michael Phelps, who I have followed for the past eight years, wins eight gold medals, and I think I can die happy. Alexander de Pate, on the other hand, does not win gold. But is still my favorite diver. I run Race Judicata just to prove I still can run. I also watch the Democratic National Convention and weep with pride for New Jersey, and for Barack Obama, and even Hillary Clinton.
September
Shit gets real this month. Lauren gets into her accident. Other crap that has been edited for content happens. I exit the month of September ten pounds lighter, more than slightly sleep deprived, and prone to tears.
October
The Halloween show opens and it gives me great joy to share the stage with Dice and all five of his polo shirts every week. And I sing! A line! On stage! That never happened before – they cut my solo in my high school production of “Bye Bye Birdie.” (Seriously. They made it an ensemble piece.) I also begin volunteering for Barack Obama’s campaign, canvassing in Indiana and Michigan and phone banking whenever possible. I have never volunteered for an individual politician before. And I come from a political family. [of Republicans.] That is how firmly I believe.
November
Obviously, I am proud to vote and see Obama elected and spend Election Night in Grant Park. I can say without hyperbole that it is one of the most amazing days of my life. Everyone is talking about it; we know. It’s history. We saw it. It is the most special thing to happen all year.
Unrelated to that magic though: The Rabble is cut. It is very sad. I am put on a new team. I go home for Thanksgiving; dinner is transported in a red wagon.
December
We stepped into Christmas and Basic Eight started working on our first written show. My sister celebrates her birthday. Baby Tommy Hennessy was born and Auntie Rose passed away at 92. Mike Click was finally absolved of the Justin Timberlake incident. RBG has an amazing first show, through no fault of my own. And overall? Things are looking better. Much better.
Incidentally, my horoscope this week said that "2009 will be more joyful and less tearful than 2008." I am not making that up. And I think it will be.
2009 will be just fine. Fingers crossed.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas Comedy of Errors (parts five through ten)
Christmas is a completely different experience when there is a child involved. I don't have a baby, and yeah, Christmas is always about the Baby Jesus away in a manger with no crib for a bed, but I am talking an actual child. Physically with you. Taking your hand in his little paw and leading you to his playroom so he can throw balls at your head.
As you may have already gleamed, I know a baby. He is the most precious angel baby ever in the whole wide world. (And tomorrow, he will be a big brother.)
Also, this baby is eighteen months old, and so, naturally, he is terrified of Santa.
Now, this baby belongs to my cousin. My aunt and other cousin are on the first aid squad in town. My town has a tradition -- the families of the volunteers receive a personal visit from Santa on Christmas Eve. So, as a result, the most precious baby ever came face to face with his worst fear.
When Santa arrived in an ambulance.
Keep in mind, please, my cousin's wife fell down the stairs and broke her ankle not a week ago. So my aunt ran right away and got the ambulance. I am sure there is a bad association somewhere here.
Fortunately, Baby Daniel did not see Santa arrive in the ambulance -- he just saw him coming up the steps and tried to make a run for it. Luckily, his mommy got a pretty good grip on him from her wheelchair. Poor little guy screamed his way through Santa's visit, until presented with a Wow Wow Wubbzy, which he proceeded to cling to throughout dinner. Things brightened up when the entire family sang Christmas carols solely for the baby's amusement, and he was further presented with a) Jell-O and b) several other Wow Wow Wubbzys, a tent and ball crawl combination, and a pile of foam balls. He was in hog heaven. So much so that it became a debacle actually trying to put him to bed.
Children. They're what Christmas is all about, am I right?
On Christmas Day, we do not have the luxury of a baby to drive conversation and create jolly sing-a-longs. Said baby has to go to his other grandma's house. So it is just my mom and sister and I, and my aunt, uncle, and other cousin. This is fine too, because it gave an opening for the political discussion I have been hankerin' for since November 4th.
Luckily, I got it. (I might have been asking for it when I listed our new president amongst the things I am grateful for during grace.) Unfortunately, because my extended family are all very conservative Republicans, this conversation really leaned more towards how children in urban areas do not deserve an equal education and how people who are not born in America do not deserve jobs in America. (These thoughts are not reflective of my own.) My uncle, being really a fair and just man (who admitted several times to watching MSNBC, which, really, I consider to be one of my Christmas gifts) said repeatedly that he hopes the best for the Obama administration, because the country is in a heap of trouble and someone has to get us out. My cousin, on the other hand, announced to the table that she knows Sarah Palin will be the one to fix all the country's troubles in 2012. Oh, how I laughed. And ran out of the room to relay this message via text to all my friends. (Curt's response: "How, with her talk show?")
Of course, the conversation wasn't really given to singing the praises of Barack Obama, because whenever his name was mentioned, my cousin immediately brought up Blagojevich and how he has marred Chicago politicians. My cousin also wanted to talk primarily about how we need to work to get our own education and no one ever got anywhere from receiving handouts. I introduced her to the kettle. (Kara's response: "Throw a drink in her face. Your family will talk about it for years.") I personally found it difficult to have a conversation when I was simply being preached at, but found it generally delightful to have the firsthand opportunity to see something I thought only existed in stories. Like a unicorn!
The conversation soon turned to the possibility of our neighbors poisoning all the neighborhood cats, and my mother and sister and I soon got the house to ourselves to watch the best of General Hospitals past. I am looking forward to tomorrow, when I will have two babies to spoil, and to hope that they will get every possible opportunity due to them. Because they are white middle-class American-born boys. (Maybe. It could be a girl. We don't know.)
Merry Christmas, everyone. And Whatever Higher Power You Choose To Believe In bless us, everyone.
As you may have already gleamed, I know a baby. He is the most precious angel baby ever in the whole wide world. (And tomorrow, he will be a big brother.)
Also, this baby is eighteen months old, and so, naturally, he is terrified of Santa.
Now, this baby belongs to my cousin. My aunt and other cousin are on the first aid squad in town. My town has a tradition -- the families of the volunteers receive a personal visit from Santa on Christmas Eve. So, as a result, the most precious baby ever came face to face with his worst fear.
When Santa arrived in an ambulance.
Keep in mind, please, my cousin's wife fell down the stairs and broke her ankle not a week ago. So my aunt ran right away and got the ambulance. I am sure there is a bad association somewhere here.
Fortunately, Baby Daniel did not see Santa arrive in the ambulance -- he just saw him coming up the steps and tried to make a run for it. Luckily, his mommy got a pretty good grip on him from her wheelchair. Poor little guy screamed his way through Santa's visit, until presented with a Wow Wow Wubbzy, which he proceeded to cling to throughout dinner. Things brightened up when the entire family sang Christmas carols solely for the baby's amusement, and he was further presented with a) Jell-O and b) several other Wow Wow Wubbzys, a tent and ball crawl combination, and a pile of foam balls. He was in hog heaven. So much so that it became a debacle actually trying to put him to bed.
Children. They're what Christmas is all about, am I right?
On Christmas Day, we do not have the luxury of a baby to drive conversation and create jolly sing-a-longs. Said baby has to go to his other grandma's house. So it is just my mom and sister and I, and my aunt, uncle, and other cousin. This is fine too, because it gave an opening for the political discussion I have been hankerin' for since November 4th.
Luckily, I got it. (I might have been asking for it when I listed our new president amongst the things I am grateful for during grace.) Unfortunately, because my extended family are all very conservative Republicans, this conversation really leaned more towards how children in urban areas do not deserve an equal education and how people who are not born in America do not deserve jobs in America. (These thoughts are not reflective of my own.) My uncle, being really a fair and just man (who admitted several times to watching MSNBC, which, really, I consider to be one of my Christmas gifts) said repeatedly that he hopes the best for the Obama administration, because the country is in a heap of trouble and someone has to get us out. My cousin, on the other hand, announced to the table that she knows Sarah Palin will be the one to fix all the country's troubles in 2012. Oh, how I laughed. And ran out of the room to relay this message via text to all my friends. (Curt's response: "How, with her talk show?")
Of course, the conversation wasn't really given to singing the praises of Barack Obama, because whenever his name was mentioned, my cousin immediately brought up Blagojevich and how he has marred Chicago politicians. My cousin also wanted to talk primarily about how we need to work to get our own education and no one ever got anywhere from receiving handouts. I introduced her to the kettle. (Kara's response: "Throw a drink in her face. Your family will talk about it for years.") I personally found it difficult to have a conversation when I was simply being preached at, but found it generally delightful to have the firsthand opportunity to see something I thought only existed in stories. Like a unicorn!
The conversation soon turned to the possibility of our neighbors poisoning all the neighborhood cats, and my mother and sister and I soon got the house to ourselves to watch the best of General Hospitals past. I am looking forward to tomorrow, when I will have two babies to spoil, and to hope that they will get every possible opportunity due to them. Because they are white middle-class American-born boys. (Maybe. It could be a girl. We don't know.)
Merry Christmas, everyone. And Whatever Higher Power You Choose To Believe In bless us, everyone.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Christmas Comedy of Errors (Parts 2 through 4)
I am annoyed at United. I have to check a bag, which is going to cost me 12 bones. I did not want to do this, but I have been forced to thanks to a Christmas miracle involving the refund for my company Christmas present being exactly the same amount as what my cousin asked for in the Christmas grab bag. Exactly. Thus, I am hauling home something that rhymes with Firt Fevil (do not open till December 25th!) and as a result, have to bring home my HUGE suitcase, because it is the only one it fits into.
I was considering bringing a smaller bag in my HUGE suitcase and using that to go back to Chicago, since I do not expect any large gifts this year, since everyone knows I travel and buys me gift cards. Then I remembered I am using my HUGE suitcase as a makeshift dresser, since the untimely demise of my own. On a side note, it is impossible to buy a new dresser if you don't have a car. So, you know...that happened.
My mother keeps telling me to bring the Firt Fevil (shhh!) on as a carry-on, but then I still have to check a bag, or otherwise I don't, you know, bring clothes with me. Any solutions to this would be appreciated. Actually, no, since I already paid the twelve dollars to check the stupid Dirt Devil.
* * *
My co-workers and I all got our supervisor a Starbucks gift card. The woman drinks a huge cup of non-fat chai tea everyday. It is the only thing we see her consume. It is actually a thoughtful gift.
We decided to present the gift card collectively after our morning meeting. One co-worker sent out an e-mail to meet at her cubicle, so we all headed over there. Except for one. Who was on a personal call. So we waited. And waited. And stood around and chatted. Finally, my supervisor came out of her office and said, "Why is everyone standing around and talking?" One co-worker said with a sigh, "Just give it to her now." Some presentation.
* * *
I made a million cookies for Tucker Max and Reggie, our concierge, who told me not to waste my time on boys who are no good for me. Reggie is healing. Unfortunately, Tucker Max cancelled rehearsal and Reggie is on vacation this week. So I have a million cookies.
I was considering bringing a smaller bag in my HUGE suitcase and using that to go back to Chicago, since I do not expect any large gifts this year, since everyone knows I travel and buys me gift cards. Then I remembered I am using my HUGE suitcase as a makeshift dresser, since the untimely demise of my own. On a side note, it is impossible to buy a new dresser if you don't have a car. So, you know...that happened.
My mother keeps telling me to bring the Firt Fevil (shhh!) on as a carry-on, but then I still have to check a bag, or otherwise I don't, you know, bring clothes with me. Any solutions to this would be appreciated. Actually, no, since I already paid the twelve dollars to check the stupid Dirt Devil.
* * *
My co-workers and I all got our supervisor a Starbucks gift card. The woman drinks a huge cup of non-fat chai tea everyday. It is the only thing we see her consume. It is actually a thoughtful gift.
We decided to present the gift card collectively after our morning meeting. One co-worker sent out an e-mail to meet at her cubicle, so we all headed over there. Except for one. Who was on a personal call. So we waited. And waited. And stood around and chatted. Finally, my supervisor came out of her office and said, "Why is everyone standing around and talking?" One co-worker said with a sigh, "Just give it to her now." Some presentation.
* * *
I made a million cookies for Tucker Max and Reggie, our concierge, who told me not to waste my time on boys who are no good for me. Reggie is healing. Unfortunately, Tucker Max cancelled rehearsal and Reggie is on vacation this week. So I have a million cookies.
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