Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

The End is Near

As evidenced by the dwindling number of stress-induced zits marring my face, the much be-groaned finals week has come to an end! Which means (drum roll, please... or rather, victorious trumpet fanfare) I'm on to my LAST SEMESTER OF SCHOOL for the foreseeable future!

I have eight more credits to complete before earning my undergraduate degree. Next semester, between advanced creative writing and my senior project, will be all about finishing a FULL DRAFT of my novel so that I can start sending out queries over the summer... with the promised guidance of Skipping Stone! Many great things lie ahead, and I can't wait to get started - but not before I've indulged in the annual Christmastime month of hibernation and, of course, the chaos known as holiday shopping, which promises to be even more chaotic than usual.

I had the great misfortune of leaving my debit card in an ATM and, consequently, having it shredded, just a few weeks before the biggest gift-giving extravaganza of the year. I finally got a new one this week, which I have been unable to take advantage of due to final projects, papers, and portfolios (although, thankfully, no formal exams). So now, with a week to go until Christmas, I have to purchase stuff for just about everyone I know and find time to hand-make gifts for the rest of the people I know.

The homemade gifts are actually the easy part. It's the grandmas I can never figure out. One of my grandmas I hardly even see except when she turns up on birthdays and Christmas to hand out $25 Macy's gift cards. The best thing I ever bought with one was a toaster oven. As great a purchase as that was (and I truly mean that; I use it every day in my apartment), I am always tempted to buy her a gift card she will find equally useless - to, say, Newbury Comics, which is my favorite store - and then offer to trade. But I suppose that would be rude.

Peace, love and white elephants,
Miss Rex

Ode to my baby sister

This weekend I had the enormous privilege of seeing my not-so-baby-anymore baby sister, Jay May, perform in her high school musical.

For reasons beyond comprehension, our clean-cut, suburban, 95% white school chose "The Wiz" for this year's show. And for reasons that I won't go into (cough*nepotism*cough), my brilliantly talented sister was not granted a lead, even though she is a junior and this will be her last high school musical, and therefore by rules of seniority alone she should have trumped some of the leads.

In the realm of talent, it could have been a one girl show as far as I'm concerned. The talent pool just isn't that big at a school as small as that. There were only 120 kids in my graduating class.

That being said, it was one of the better musicals I've seen my high school put on, and Jay May was just... stunning. She was Aunt Em, and she had a solo. The first one in the play. I couldn't believe how grown up she looked and sounded. She was so expressive, so confident. I found out later that she was nervous, but I never would have guessed it from watching her, which I've heard is the mark of a good performer. She hit all the high notes dead on and dipped to reach the low notes just right, too.

It was only after she sang that I realized how long it had been since she let me hear her sing outside of the shower. Years. She's had bit parts in the other musicals she's done in the past few years, and even though I could always pick out her voice, it was nothing like this. I'm so proud of her.

I've also learned that I am going to be a blubbering wreck when my kids grow up.

Peace, love and menthol,
Miss Rex

tl;dr

I dreamed I was in my apartment with one of my guy friends, but it was the middle of the night, and our school has a rule that you can't have visitors of the opposite sex in your apartment past a certain hour, so we were blatantly breaking the rules. But no one would have known a thing if my apartment mates (who were not the same as my real life apartment mates) hadn't suddenly brought a party into our living room. A very loud party with girls AND boys.

Of course we got caught. I stepped out of my room to be like "WTF guys?" just in time to get nabbed with the rest of them. But when I told the RD I had no idea why there was a party in my living room, he let me go without saying a word about the friend who'd been in my room. I was so relieved he hadn't noticed. When I got back to my room, they had transformed the living room into an all-out bar (another no-no - we aren't allowed to have booze on campus, nor are we allowed to turn out the lights in mixed company).


A bunch of us went down to the first floor, which is a guys' floor. Apparently it was all right to be down there if we stayed in the main corridor, which was easier said than done since all the walls and doors were gone; the place was transformed into a huge cafeteria. I saw someone I knew and went over to say "hi," but it turned out he was a zombie, so I went back to my other friends. Suddenly we realized we weren't in the main corridor and thus were technically in violation of visiting laws, so we scurried back to safe ground.

Seconds later I got a text. I didn't know who it was from, but whoever sent it said they'd seen what I'd just done and I should turn myself in for it. I couldn't even tell where the corridor turned into restricted territory, and I'd only crossed for a second! Like hell I was turning myself in.

But this person kept hounding me. Every time I looked at a screen, and sometimes just randomly in the air in front of me, his messages would appear. They were always on a grid of hash marks that flickered in and out like the screen was about to die. It had a very creepy feel to it, like this person that I didn't know and never saw was some kind of ghost or demon, or worse yet, a Fight-Club-esque alternate self. My techy friend was trying to help me figure it out, but he was never there to see the messages and I started to get the feeling that he and the sender were actually one and the same.


Next thing I knew I was being held hostage in my bedroom at home. There was a party going on in my back yard, like a birthday party or something with lots of young kids who might have been my mom's piano students. I was standing in my back window looking out, thinking about how far down it was. The grass was so green and soft that I knew I could jump the one story down onto it without getting hurt, and I was about to when I got kidnapped.

Now I'm in the back seat of a car. I don't know where they're taking me, but it can't be good. They are not good people. I am working on a diversion of some kind. I think it involves food. The last thing I remember is preparing to jump out the back door while the car is still in motion...

Good morning, Saturday.

Luckily things only got better as the day went on. I spent the afternoon with JW and his family. They had about 20, 25 people over for Thanksgiving: Round Two - and that was only about 5% of the family tree. It was so fun. Big families are great. Remembering all those names was good mental exercise, too.

Then I drove home to see Adam Ezra playing in the town next door, in fact at the same place we had my post prom party. I went with my daddy, and it was nice to go do something with him, even though he wasn't crazy about the headliner (and I would have to agree that Adam's music is more my type). But I did get to have a good long conversation with Adam that touched on his tour with Enter the Haggis, the band's new album, my finals, my internship, and fantasy literature, especially our mutual love for The Golden Compass and the fact that, unlike a lot of people who say "your book-in-progress sounds interesting, but fantasy's not really my genre," he actually seemed excited to read what I'm working on. We agreed that when he finishes his album and I publish my novel, we'll trade. Cool beans.

Peace, love, and sweet dreams,
Miss Rex

These are a few of my favorite things:

It's Thanksgiving Day, but I won't bore you with an essay of the same things everybody is thankful for today. I have amazing friends and an amazing family and an amazing boyfriend. I have a roof over my head and plenty to eat, I go to a great school, I have a great internship, and I always have something to wear (even when I despair that "I have nothing to wear!").

Of course I'm thankful for those things. But there are a lot of smaller, less cliché things that I am also thankful for, and I think they deserve some recognition. This Thanksgiving, I give thanks for...

Light bulbs.


Forks.
Text messaging.
Candles.
Single stream recycling.
Plungers.
Soy milk (picture from Urban Blah).


Bass guitar.
Flannel.
Scott Westerfeld.
Swiss Miss hot chocolate.
Dirty feet.


Neon Trees.
Tuning forks.
Trippy dreams.
Vodka sauce.
Stickers.


Jalapeños.
Hot showers.
String.
Blue jeans.
Semicolons.
Ear goggles.




What random things are you thankful for today? If anyone says "friends and family," I'm spamming your comments section with pictures of slow lorises!

This post is brought to you by my favorite fingerless gloves.

Peace, love and free-range turkey,
Miss Rex

It was nice, knowing everything there was to know.

Senior year of high school, my present writing voice began to emerge.

I finally accepted who I was and where I stood in the social structure - completely.

I had a lot to say about the topic I knew least about: love.

I became a passionate person. I was passionately Christian, passionately angry at a lot of people for a lot of reasons, passionately counter-culture, and even passionately confused.

So I guess not a lot has changed. I'm just passionate about different issues, or the same issues but from different angles.

Words from my seventeen-year-old self:

ON FRIENDS:

Ravin said i had big feet, so Ash decided to try on my shoes, so i stole his, and then i drove him home, and when i pulled into my garage, i looked down and realized..... that i was STILL WEARING his shoes. i mean, they felt EXACTLY LIKE my shoes but on a slightly larger scale. which makes sense, because i HAVE the exact same shoes on a slightly smaller scale.

i know that there are some of you who... attempted to make me "tall and stout" one year because you didnt think i could look fat, but you know what, i have just one word for you..... snowgear.

Kim gave me pocky and koalas. i love kim.

saturday night after the semi, we went to shaws with Ravin and Lonewlf to get juicy juice, and Lonewlf comes running up to us with a huge package of pads and goes, "LOOK! TAMPONS!" and we had to explain that those weren't tampons.

i escaped to the kitchen to call Ash and ask him about his koto, which was in my house for half a week and i never told him about.

i told [Erny] i was ryan ross, who is really a member of panic! at the disco... little did she know that Wanda and i invented ryan ross the sophomore and were really referring to her sister the whole time.

Lonewlf decided to wear his "hot pants" and nothing else. Lonewlf's hot pants are a pair of girl jeans cut so short that you can see the ends of his boxers poking out at the bottom... [then he] pretended my emergency blanket was a cape. now i have to wash it because it has been on his mostly naked body.

ON PARENTS:

EVERYBODY says that about their parents, and I usually think theyre just exaggerating, but Im telling you, the guy is a total kangaroo.

on friday night, my mom and i frolicked in the church parking lot.

ON RELATIONSHIPS:

It all began with "…two North Dakota… three North Dakota…" in the darkroom.

i dont know. one minute we were talking about werewolves, and the next, he invited me to the prom.

I hate the way dudes just throw "I love you" around like beer in a mosh pit... If youve been dating somebody for a month, two months, in cara's case five days, or even a year or two, YOU DO NOT LOVE THEM. Okay? You dont. [Author's note: JW has proven me wrong on this point. Nuff said.]

Ash tried to be the psychologist and told me that i'm just jealous because i think i'm going to be lonely forever.

there are a heck of a lot of things i could do that i would regret more than not doing them, if that made any sense at all. but of course it didnt, because nothing makes sense anymore, and it feels like nothing will ever make sense again.

it's like happy rainbows are coming out my ears or something.

ON ART:

i'm sure there's an actual word for fear of hot glue guns. i mean there is a word for "fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth." there's got to be one for glue guns.

[there was a photo] of a kid with a skateboard gazing contemplatively at artwork hanging on a wall. the picture he's looking at is of a hawk, and i insisted it was a reference to tony hawk and how the kid wanted to be just like him. my grandma didnt get it, but i dont think she knows the first thing about tony hawk anyway.

bar chords kill my wrist, which i think is related to the fact that my thumb is not really opposable. i hate my thumbs so much. i swear, one of these days i'm just going to shut it in a car door or something and hope that when it heals from being broken, it will be weirdly bent into a much less awkward position than.... whatever weird shape it is now.

please pardon my logorrhea.

i tend to have epic dreams when i sleep on my stomach... last night/this morning, i got the second half of a dream that inspired me to write a story, which i stopped writing because i didnt know where to go with it, but now i have a better sense of direction, so maybe i can get working on that. [Author's note: This dream, from an entry dated 2006, was the foundation for Before the Empty Moon. Yep, STILL working on that.]

ON SOCIAL GATHERINGS:

they have a mario kart tourney..... funniest thing since sliced bread.......

good goobers, maybe it's happened to me! -what they always say about kids getting addicted to the internet!! and myspace!!!

On our way to the club, this guy in girl pants pointed at my relient k shirt and got all excited and yelled "you're going to the relient k concert! Yay!" or something, and I just sort of watched his little outburst with internalized amusement and continued eating my ice cream like "hello, can't you see i'm busy here?"

i told the bride "happy wedding" (DDR reference, b/c i'm a dork), and when the pastor started speaking, all i could think of was the guy in the princess bride.

ON BABYSITTING:

i really have corrupted the girl i babysat for on saturday. i taught her the meaning of emo, and now she gives me weekly reports on how many emo kids she's counted.

the boy would not go to bed, and finally i said, "all right. i'll read to you some more. let me go find a book." and went and got my systematic theology book, thinking, "this will put him RIGHT to sleep." not so. that rebel child had me read ten pages of impossible-to-pronounce names and titles before he finally conked out.

trust me to deal with flying shards of flaming glass with "LET'S EAT ICE CREAM!"

ON HIGH SCHOOL IN GENERAL:

i'm so used to being on the fringes of the social structure that i can tell everyone i dont care if they reject me, but of course i do. nobody wants to be rejected.

Wanda and I sat on the floor during lunch again.

i used to come home in tears because i couldnt understand why nobody understood me. my word, i was emo all the way back in second grade. i should have known it was hopeless.

I was ignored, as usual. I should just not bother talking, ever.

Let's face it. Just like everything else about school this year, spirit week and homecoming are going to suck. But you know what? I'M GOING TO BE A PIRATE ANYWAY. AND I'M GOING TO WEAR MY 80S SHIRT ON 70S DAY. AND I'M ADDING A NEW SUPERLATIVE CATEGORY FOR MYSELF: Most Likely to Instigate Revolution. Take that, CHS.

today was so long that i looked down at my shirt this afternoon and thought, "mandii, you scrub, you wore the same shirt two days in a row," and then realized that it was still the same day.

never be too "cool" to be a fool or too "old" to be bold. those are lame excuses for thinking small.

i am sick and tired of putting up with the other editors in my independent study, one of whom does not even have authority of any sort over me except in her imagination where she dominates the world because she thinks she is that smart and talented and special.

BRENDON URIE came over and inspected the hot water pots, to no avail, obviously, since they were empty. And then I realized that he had a big Styrofoam cup of ramen in his hand, just like me, and I had to stifle a laugh. Poor kid. He's fueled by ramen, but apparently not today.

eating is so strange. i mean, think about it. theres something in front of you, and then you put it into this big hole in your face and mash it all up, and suddenly it isnt there anymore.

your self-help forum says, "go play in traffic." thank you, and have an EMO DAY.

yesterday was "Senior skip day." needless to say, i went to school and skipped through the halls with my friends and sang, "senior skip day! senior skip day!" everywhere i went.

Peace, love, and reliving the not-so-golden years,
Miss Rex

Tales of the Texans

Today I finished work on a video project I'm entering into a contest at cheaptickets.com. The contest was to create a 30-second advertisement for the site. I'm quite pleased with the result, but I'm not posting it until the judges have had a chance to look at it. For now I'll tell you this: It involved a million little hole-punched circles, a box of rice, me wearing a bathing suit and snorkel on camera, and such lovely pictures as this:


Bet you're salivating at the mere thought of 30 whole seconds of this AWESOMENESS.

Until I can share the video, I have many a photo to share from my trip to Texas for my cousin's wedding. Here's the first batch.






Peace, love and zucchini muffins,
Miss Rex

Things my mother doesn't understand

My mom and I have a great relationship. We're very open - I really do tell her most of what goes on in my life. I enjoy her company, she enjoys mine, and I value her advice, sometimes a little more than it's really wise to value a single person's input. But then I get a night like this and all I can really say is WTF?

I spent the first three weeks of my summer (excluding the time I was abroad) mostly bored out of my skull, to the point that mom was sick to death of me complaining about how bored I was and actually nagged me to get the heck out of the house. If there's one sure-fire way to get me out of the house, it's nagging, especially about how I ought to socialize.

The functioning and etiquette of college-aged social circles is #1 on the list of things my mother doesn't understand. Texting someone I've barely hung out with day after day asking to do stuff seems anti-etiquette to me, regardless of whether her theory that he's romantically interested holds any water.

On Wednesday my friend Bear, who I met through Ravin a few years ago, and who she in turn met at school in Ohio, came to visit. After a bizarre twist of events that ended with him not being allowed to stay at her house the first few nights, we put him up Wednesday and Thursday, and as good friends are wont to do I have hung out with him and Ravin and sometimes The Pantsless One (TPO) pretty much non-stop since Bear got here.

I should mention that Bear doesn't sleep more than four hours on a good night, so I stayed up late keeping him company the two nights he was here. This was not an act of pity on my part. The great thing about Bear is he puts me at ease so that Suppressed Me can show her face, and that's something special.

This brings me to item #2 on the list of things my mother doesn't understand: Teens/twenty-somethings' sleeping patterns, or lack thereof. I believe that, as people who are biologically alive, the most vital thing for us to do is to "live deep and suck out all the marrow of life" at whatever hour that marrow is there for the sucking, even if the hour is late or the place is far. I'm flexible; late hours and far places don't bother me, and if it gets too late or too far, I'd sleep just about anywhere.

I have friends who are early to bed and early to rise. I have friends who play all night, then sleep until the sun sets. I have friends who seem not to sleep at all. They are all dear to my heart and I will do everything I can to savor the marrow with them, especially friends like Bear, who I see twice a year if I'm lucky.

Obviously this is not exactly how my mother sees things. Sleeping in one's own bed at night seems to be very important to her. Oh, I can get away with a night or two a week at Ravin or TPO's house, but sleep away more than one consecutive night and I can feel the bad vibes beginning to pulse. Staying up late with people is irresponsible.

While yes, it may look that way, I'll point out that I have never been late for work, never missed a class, and have gotten straight As since I got to college because I know how to balance my time. No, I don't always make the best decision. Some days I'm so tired I can barely stay awake through chapel. But I am aware of my obligations and take them into account, and when it's summer and I have none, I don't worry too much.

Speaking of responsibility, driving long distances is also irresponsible, regardless of whether I am personally at the wheel and regardless of whether the car is likely to break down (though I'll concede that with Derry this is very likely).

Point #3: Distance is not an issue when it comes to doing something or seeing someone you love. Music is my passion. Driving two hours to a concert is more than reasonable. It's liberating. It actually gives me a little bit of an adrenaline rush. This is all the better when the bands I'm seeing are my friends, like Kiros and Adam Ezra Group, because it becomes not just about the music but about friends (see #2).

Mom says driving far away is ridiculous; don't my friends and I have any common sense? I get this even more when we drive ALL OVER the south shore in one car, which is convenient for no one because we live in an equilateral triangle of 35-minute sides, but it is fun for everyone because we're best friends and we're together and to us that's more important than gas money, car mileage or drive time.

Last night Bear and I slept at TPO's house. Ravin was supposed to as well until she found out around 11:30 PM that she had to be home early for a violin lesson. Then I woke up at 8:45 to a text from XL saying that he was at my house, which I totally wasn't expecting at such an early hour, and my mother was displeased that I had invited XL only to have him hang out with me and Bear all day as opposed to just me.

I have this memory (maybe real, maybe hallucinated) of a conversation with XL that went, "We have a friend in town so you'll probably be hanging out with all of us if that's cool," followed by something like, "yeah, I'd love to meet your friends" in response. But frankly it was none of my mother’s business to be concerned about it anyway.

Tonight Ravin, TPO, Bear and I went to see Toy Story 3 (WHICH I'll add was hysterically clever, surprising, touching, and featured a Totoro plush toy) and we were going to go swim at Ravin's after, except my mother insisted I come home.

I tried to argue my way out of sleeping at home tonight, since from tomorrow night onward I'll have to actually be responsible because I'm starting work, but no dice - it's father's day tomorrow, among other reasons that ranged from semi-legitimate to completely random. To be honest I was pissed. We were all hyper and having so much fun. We picked up our friend The Italian, who was drunk and therefore hilarious. But I had to leave, and it just didn't seem fair.

When I got home I found out the reason I needed to be there first thing in the morning on father's day is that I am supposed to help make breakfast for my dad. I think that's sweet. If I'd been told that to begin with I would have been so much more compliant! Disappointed, yes, but not angry. Instead I feel like this:



On a side note, I’m starting the process of making sure all the people mentioned in my blog get code names. Sorry if things get confusing ^_^

Peace, love, and residual Chocolixir/Mountain Dew/favorite people high,
Miss Rex

Fame! (Doodlybop)

SO MANY GREAT THINGS ARE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. I don't even know what to do. Maybe like, dance party plus eat cookies times hug people squared....

Saturday was Adam Ezra Group's CD (re)release party at the Paradise. As I mentioned before, I got to chat it up with Adam freakin' Ezra last week, as I was hyping the party in this article I was writing for my journalism internship.

Said article is now on BOSTON.COM!!! This is.... (I'm searching for an adjective that could possibly encompass my excitement)... Radical! Stellar! Fan-freakin'-tabulous!!! Yes, the plethora of exclamation points is NECESSARY!!!!!

Ahem. So, that's the big news.

The party was great fun! I was one of the first people in because I'm a groupie like that because I seriously overestimated how long I would be lost in the labyrinthine, unlabeled streets of Boston even with my new GPS. Said hello to Turtle and Robin Vincent on my way in. Claimed the best spot in the house - front and dead center, leaning on the speakers - and waited that last agonizing hour between doors and showtime.

The first band was called Girls Guns and Glory. They're the sort of band that are a lot of fun live but not really something I'd listen to in my car, or anywhere else. Too western-sounding. But there was a guy with an accordion, which rocked, and the bassist had this weird upright bass with no body, just all neck. And of course, I was close enough to reach out and play the lead singer's guitar if I'd wanted to, but I'm not into the whole interfering-with-the-show bit.

But some people are into that sort of thing. This one young lady clambered over all of us in the front row and started dancing on stage. ("I thought this place used to have security," said the woman next to me. Yeah, I thought so too.) The band just kept playing; I don't think there was much else they could do. Then the song ended and Very Drunk Dancing Girl gave them all kisses and hopped off the stage. Good gravy. People.

Then it was Adam Ezra Group's turn to play. I've never seen people so jazzed about them, yelling and singing and dancing like that - I mean, it was more upbeat than the last Relient K show I saw! Somehow that just shouldn't happen. Even I, who had spent two and a half days with my face buried in a tissue, was singing my heart out. In fact, I might even credit this show with curing me. Anyway it cured, or at least boosted, my rather drab outlook on life. AND, Adam bent down away from the mic mid-song to tell me, "Great article!"

It's hard NOT to be inspired when a band you love decides to share the spotlight on their big night and give all the money they make to Haiti relief efforts. They passed around the Love Bucket (a.k.a. a re-labeled recycling bin) and people filled it with even MORE money, after they had already donated just by buying a ticket. Adam dumped it all out on stage and they played the rest of the show wading through a sea of cash. I was devastated that I hadn't brought my camera. You'll just have to use your imagination.

But it would have been inspiring even minus the Haiti angle and minus the "great article" comment. Adam is one of those people, like Jon Foreman, that can make things seem better just by being in the same room. I don't get how people can do that. Granted, he was pretty giddy himself; Aerosmith's bassist came out and played a song with them, and Adam's only looked up to the guy for like, his entire life.

Then Very Drunk Dancing Girl returned for an encore (I couldn't believe they hadn't made her leave). This time she brought a friend. Security actually showed up and tried to get them to leave, but the friend wouldn't go until she'd told Turtle "I love you!" and kissed Adam on the cheek. God. No shame.

We all had a great time being rowdy and obnoxious during the new song, "Scandal," but I think the most fun was when everyone from both bands came out on stage for Bob Dylan's "Wagon Wheel." It was one of those bighappyfamily moments, with everyone on stage and the whole crowd singing and dancing along. That's why AEG is different from other bands. Other band have fans; AEG has a family. Aww cute.

Well that's all for now; stay tuned since I've got a new scene to post after tomorrow's playwright's workshop!

Peace, love, and FAME!
~ Miss Rex

Dinner with Dasher and Dancer

I was perusing my recent posts and noticed it's been too long since I posted anything not titled "Excavations of Claymore: bla bla bla" or "Scatterday." The reason for this was a little thing we call school - more specifically, finals. The fact I posted anything at all over the past month and a half is a small miracle. The great thing about having scheduled posts is that it forces you to write something. Anything. When school's got you down and you can think of a million better things to do, knowing you've got some semblance of a schedule to keep on your blog at least creates a little consistency, don't you think?

But now it's time for a little fun! I miss the normal blogging thing, to be honest. So even though I have two jobs right now that I should be doing instead of blogging, I'm gonna take a minute and share one of my favorite Christmas memories. I've had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year in spite of the foot of snow we got this weekend, but I can't help smiling at this memory.

I must have been about nine or ten. Though it was one of the last years I believed in Santa, for the time I believed whole-heartedly; I defended the jolly toymaker to my classmates and took baking his cookies very seriously. The week of Christmas, my dad came home from work with little plastic bags of reindeer food (i.e. dry oatmeal with glitter mixed in) that my sister and I were to leave out for the reindeer to munch while Santa was unloading our loot.

Of course we couldn't get the food up to the roof where the reindeer would logically be, but lucky for us my dad had just finished building a patio out back. Cleared of the summer furniture, it was a wide, flat space that made a perfect landing strip for a flying sleigh. That was where we would leave the reindeer food.

On Christmas eve, there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. My sister and I put on our winter coats and boots over our pajamas and crunched through the snow, sprinkling oats all around the patio. We added a few carrots for good measure (and good eyesight; if anyone needs to see where they're going, it's a team of flying reindeer) and turned in for the night.

In bed, I lay on my back. It was not comfortable, but I wanted both of my ears free to hear when Santa landed. I lay with my head close to the window so I could peek out and see him when I heard the bells, but I was asleep before Saint Nick could make a sound.

My sister was the first one awake. I was quick to follow. We hurried downstairs to find the living room transformed into a maze of presents (more presents than any kid should ever receive at any time of year). But the thing I wanted to see the most was the patio. Had the reindeer eaten their food, or would we find the snow still sprinkled with glitter and marred only by our own frenzied footprints from the night before?

I pressed my nose to the glass slider. The reindeer had been there all right. There were sleigh tracks and everything!

I have no memory of what was in all those boxes under the tree, but I'll remember those sleigh tracks forever. What about you? What Christmas memory will stick with you forever?

Godzillan gratitude!

The votes are in and the judges have (finally) spoken: with 2753 votes, my video placed 3rd out of 300-some-odd entries. For old time's sake, let's take one last look at this thing.



I was really pulling for second, and so was everyone I knew... and their mother... and their grandmother... and their friends on Facebook who I'd never even met. What I'm trying to say is, we put up one heck of a fight. Someone else just put up more of one. But third is nothing to be ashamed of! I had a great time making the video, I still won $250, and best of all, I've seen what a fabulous support system I have in my life. Take a look:

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Handle:Core Date:7/22/2009 2:28:35 PM
Parents will never leave their college-bound children home alone again after watching this! Hilarious.

Handle:isaac Date:7/22/2009 3:16:16 PM
I was all prepared to shrug but that was actually really funny!

Handle:bchambo Date:7/23/2009 12:20:40 PM
Great job Mandie! Hope you win!

Handle:alyssagram Date:7/24/2009 10:30:43 AM
This certainly expresses what you have to do to get to college with a witty style. I love it!!

Handle:Jeff Date:7/24/2009 11:37:39 AM
Funny! Good luck!

Handle:Aunt Norma Date:7/24/2009 1:04:31 PM
Your video is delightful! I especially liked when your Mom and Dad came in at the end. I'm going to try to vote each day. Good luck!

Handle:momma Date:7/24/2009 10:07:00 PM
Love the video! What cute parents you have!

Handle:Friend BJ Date:7/27/2009 3:26:47 PM
Great job - Mom and Dad need to do more shopping

Handle:granny betsy Date:7/27/2009 8:08:51 PM
ohhh cant wait to see you at the next family gathering!!
take care deary

Handle:mnoon Date:7/28/2009 12:21:13 AM
Hey Mandie! This is awesome! I'm truly impressed; you absolutely deserve to win. This video made me realize doubly how much I miss you. I hope it won't be too long before I can come visit again! Love, your cuz, Mary

Handle:gardenart Date:7/28/2009 4:20:10 PM
Great video! I had to watch it a few times to catch the little subtleties. Good concept, excellent editing and I love the soundtrack.

Handle:gill Date:7/29/2009 5:06:49 PM
fantastic!

Handle:Megan Date:7/30/2009 12:38:14 PM
Broke 400! woo!

Handle:Dad Date:7/31/2009 10:19:28 PM
500!!!!! you did it

Handle:Mr Condescendin Date:8/11/2009 12:42:55 AM
I do love this!!

Handle:aunt Deb Date:8/11/2009 10:51:48 AM
we're voting!! Great job, Mandy. What attractive parents you have!!!
Love,Debbie

Handle:Abby Date:8/12/2009 2:52:01 PM
That was great! It made me laugh.

Handle:Judy Goodwin Date:8/12/2009 3:15:16 PM
Clever idea! Well done.

Handle:lam Date:8/13/2009 3:12:40 PM
I love the video, great job! You should win Manddi

Handle:gill Date:8/13/2009 6:18:32 PM
Yay!

Handle:fan24f Date:8/18/2009 11:49:32 AM
really liked your video you go girl

Handle:Lam Date:8/20/2009 2:27:00 PM
Don't just watch it, remenber to vote for it too :)

Handle:art Date:8/21/2009 10:53:13 PM
I loved the little touches like the part of the bike in the picture after the car was sold instead...

Handle:ZingZing Date:8/22/2009 4:03:46 PM
Great video, so fun...its giving me ideas...mom, dad. LOL!

Handle:gillface Date:8/24/2009 3:11:30 PM
Mandii, every time I go to vote it says I've already voted today!! For two of my e-mail addresses anyways

----------------------------------

My parents voted more faithfully than I ever could have asked. My congregation, extended family, professors, friends, faithful blog readers, and even complete and utter strangers supported me beyond anything I could have dreamed. What an amazing gift. Thank you all!

Connections

Hey everybody! Sorry it's been so long. How I have missed spilling my guts to each and every one of you! Let's catch up, shall we?

Last week I had the opportunity to go behind the scenes at WBZ. My neighbor, Mr. Ed, took me to work with him and I got to meet the people that make the news happen. Or, I mean, make it appear on TV. Not that it wouldn't be awesome if my neighbor was involved in an international circle of crime responsible for every calamity you see on the news.

Mr. Ed gave me the grand tour and introduced me to tech people, writers, newscasters, and most notably, Ken Barlow the weatherman, who let me push the button that makes the clouds move across the screen. I got to sit in while Jack Williams and Lisa Huges did the 10-and 30-second teasers that air between shows and suck people into watching the news. Mr. Ed filmed and edited those suckers in like thirty minutes flat. He was temporarily working a night shift and sharing an office with Sean, the producer, so I got to meet him too (and got mistaken for his girlfriend by Jack Williams XD). He does that thing I do with videos, where he tries to fit too much stuff in not enough time. Unlike me, he's got someone else (Mr. Ed) trimming to make it fit, and that's where the pressure really happens. Lucky Sean.

Overall I was really impressed at the team they had over there. It's a very well-oiled machine. As much as I'd hate to get in the way of that, I hope there'll be some opportunity for me to get involved, maybe as an intern or a PA or something. Mr. Ed says he'll let me know. Fingers crossed.

Sunday night I saw my birth mother and her husband (who's not my father). I've met Momma once before... not counting the nine months I spent inside her. She was nervous, and even Hubby was cautious lest he do anything to offend us, but everyone relaxed more as the night went on. We took a walk down to the Reservoir and I caught Momma up on some of my recent adventures. Then we lounged in the living room and Momma showed me pictures of their boat on the canal by their home in Florida, and the family at their cabin in Maine. Someday I hope I can visit both in real life, but for now I'm keeping things on my parents' turf (that is, the ones that raised me) until they're comfortable letting my birth parents have a more significant place in my life. Which would never, ever be before the parents I've lived with for twenty years; they've been there through it all and no one could ever replace that.

Other than that, it's been the same old same old... although with my job, nothing is ever really the same old. Sad that I've only got three days left with my kiddos.

Til next time! Peace, love, and toe socks.

Episode One: Tuesday's gray and Wednesday, too.

BUH I'm SO tired right now. Didn't sleep much all weekend, and as usual when I don't sleep, it was well worth it. Let's see let's see, but it's been a while since I updated so I'll start with last week.

Sunday my family was supposed to leave for vacation in New Hampshire, but my dad was re-siding the house and put off leaving til Monday. Then when I got home from work on Monday he'd decided they weren't going at all because he wanted to finish siding the whole house and not just the part he was supposed to finish before vacation. If it could've stopped raining the week before everything would've been fine, thank you; he would've got the siding up and they would've been out of here Monday at the latest, leaving the place to me.

I've never had the house to myself. I didn't have any grand plans (although Boyfriend and Dick were determined to show up with lots of people and even more booze) but I was looking forward to the quiet, to not being bothered while in the middle of things, to not being bossed or interrogated or forced to use dirty towels in the bathroom because my dad's the only one who ever gets clean towels and he needs one for every shower he takes, even if he takes more than one a day. All minor annoyances, but they drive me nuts when I'm home from school for longer than the month I'm here for Christmas, so I was really upset when I heard they weren't going. It didn't help that it was still raining.

But in the end, it DID help that it was raining. We got some thunder on Wednesday and it looked like it would turn into big storms later on, not to mention the amount my dad, who's a diabetic, had been working was literally killing him, so he relented and decided to go. I was sort of glad to give up giving him the silent treatment. It feels very rude to me, and I hate to be rude. However, even those to whom we automatically owe respect, like parents, can lose respect, and in my opinion, going back on his word, disappointing the four other people who'd been looking forward to this week, and thinking only of himself and how he wanted to have weekends to himself for the rest of the summer were good enough reasons to shelve my respect for the time being. But thankfully he followed through in the end. Better late than never.

That night I had Boyfriend over for dinner, served on our holiday dishes and illuminated by candlelight. Then we watched Ghost Hunters again. Last time we watched that I couldn't sleep, and not because it's an especially scary show but just because after watching it, I started assuming every miscellaneous sound was caused by something supernatural instead of something normal like wind or water in the pipes, and there were a lot of miscellaneous sounds that night. And a storm, which normally I like but that night all I could think of was how the tree thrashing outside my window looked like a laughing demon and I could feel him watching me even with the shade closed. So I took some melatonin and conked out. Anyway, after watching Ghost Hunters this week we watched Kiki's Delivery Service so I wouldn't wig out all night in the empty house.

Thursday was my last day of work for the week because of the holiday weekend. My cute story of the week is, there's this one little boy named Ronan with the most adorable golden blond ringlets. I met him the first time we went outside and the kids had a toy car wash. He was running around in terror, saying that "they" were trying to run him over. I'm assuming he meant the other kids but I guess "they" could've been in his head, too, since no one was actually doing anything of the sort. Anyhow, he does that kind of thing a lot, and he also always walks to and from the playground with me because he trails behind and gets stuck at the end of the line, and that's my spot. And he always says "aww, fiddlesticks!" at least two or three times per walk. When I ask him what's the matter, he says, all huffy, that he's at the end of the line again.

Also, today, me and him and Zach (the one who called me beautiful) and a couple of my girls had a great discussion about love on the way back from the playground. It all started with one of them hugging me, and when I said "Thank you! I love hugs! They're my favorite!" all six of the kids near me had to take turns giving me hugs or kisses. Then Catherine explained, "we give love to our families." I wish you could've heard her say it because it was way cuter coming from her than it is from me.

Thursday night was made of fail because we invited so many people to my house and in the end it was just me and Boyfriend. So we watched the end of Kiki's Delivery Service and went back to his house to sleep.

Friday was when things really started to get interesting. Bet you really want to read about it, don't you? Well HA, you'll have to wait until next time, because I'ma pass out on my keyboard if I try and finish this post now. And it'll be a BEAST of a post if I cram all that excitement into one. Anticipation, my friends. It's a wonderful thing. Often better than the thing you're anticipating. I look back on my high school days of counting down 20, 60, even a hundred days to a show I'd bought tickets to, because going to a show was that big of a deal. It still is, I just go to more of them now and don't have enough space to count down to them all. Lawl. And come to think of it, the show is almost ALWAYS more fun than the anticipation. Reel Big Fish tomorrow at the House of Blues! 1240 minutes... =D

TTFN~

The snow is falling and friends are calling yoo hoo.

New Year's Resolution #1: Suffer for my Art

Got up at 7 this morning and went out to take pictures in the Gordon woods. Okay, saying I got up at 7 is sort of a lie, but that was the time I set my alarm for and it was only quarter to eight when I made it out the door with my digital camera (sadly I didn't have any film for the other one) and a double dose of hot green tea with honey to keep me from turning into a walking igloo. I was wading through snow as high as my knees at times. That hasn't happened since I was about five. Doubleplusawesomexcore.











By the time I got to these wacky trees, I'd walked quite some distance and had long since drained my supply of green tea, so I plopped down in the snow and took a little nap. I know that sounds crazy, but I swear it was the most comfortable nap I've taken in ages. The snow formed perfectly to the shape of my body and I was hardly even cold. It was just... peaceful. Unlike my second-floor hall of Ferrin on the east side.









After wandering the woods for two hours and eating a carbtastic breakfast to cancel out all that good exercise, I got invited to go sledding with Schneckleface and Hacks, so I re-bundled up and we went to dig out Hacks's car. This was an adventure unto itself, as apparently it had snowed about a foot in the less-than-24-hours since she'd parked it. Then we packed up the ol' storage bins (i.e. makeshift sleds with a bit more to them than Lane trays... even the fiberglass ones ^_^) and drove to Marblehead, where Schneckleface teaches and knew of a good hill.






Amber thought we were crazy for using storage bins instead of going out to buy cheap $5 sleds at the store. But none of us had five dollars. We didn't even have five collective dollars. Plus, being inventive is far more entertaining and makes for much better stories (and photos) in the end.

On top of fun times in the snow, I'm happy because my sister's been talking to me. Of course I'm not going to spew the details of her life across the internet (I only inflict that sort of abuse upon myself XD), but I'll say that she was telling me about a certain boy she's got a sort of date with this weekend. Apparently they texted back and forth just shy of 70 times within the span of four hours last night. I have a boyfriend and we don't talk that much. Good grief. But I'm happy for her, and I'm happy she's telling me about her life like I'm her friend or something. That's all I've ever wanted to be for her.

Deck the halls

We put up the Christmas tree today. It was a little sad because my dad had to be at work and wasn't here to help us pick one out, or to put up his golfer ornament after everything else was finished, which is the tradition. Generally he gets the tree standing and leaves the decorating to the rest of us. But we girls got the tree inside and standing up just fine, thank you, and it looks lovely and cheerful and smells delightfully of Christmastime. And we have mistletoe.... ^_~



For the record, I really want to go WASSAILING this year. But I don't think people really do that nowadays. I also am fairly certain that wassail has rum or something in it so yeah. I just really like the word. XD

You didn't really think I'd make it through the weekend without posting, now, did you?

I am home.

It was the farthest I've ever driven by myself. Traffic was light when I hit exit 37A to 1-93, which was really a blessing because that exit scares the crap out of me. Five exits beforehand my heart started pounding just at the thought of it. It's positioned right after an on-ramp, so you have to merge with all the cars that are trying to get onto the highway and out of the lane that will take them right back off the exit. And it's the same way on the other end of the exit: if you don't merge left pretty quick, you're back on I-95/128.

But I hit bad traffic once I got to the tunnel that goes under Boston.

Then I picked Wanda up at the T station, and she had bubble tea for me - yay! My favorite kind is green tea with mango flavor. No milk. Take note. After that we went to the mall, where I bought purple hair dye at Hot Topic. Later my dad said, "Can't you dye your hair a color that doesn't turn green?" And I said, "Well, I just bought purple today," and my mom just groaned. She hates it when I color my hair. She used to love it when I highlighted it blonde. It's just fun colors that she opposes.

We went out to dinner AND dessert as a family. I told my mom about the Somewhere Over the Rainbow synaesthesia incident and she was like, "You are so weird!" Gee, thanks mom. Way to be supportive of my unique condition. I don't even have it bad. Although as a child, it used to keep me awake at night, wondering how they got the shapes inside the cassettes....

Anyway, I ate so much food that my stomach couldn't handle it, and now I have a tummyache. The heating pad is my friend. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to wake up early and go learn a new song on guitar to play for special worship tomorrow. Talk about leaving things til the last minute.

I'm just pleased as punch to say that my sister and I are getting along really great! We even talked about - gasp! - sharing clothing! I've always wanted to be close enough to someone to do that, but everyone I'm that close to wears a completely different size, shape, and style of clothing, so fail. But Jay May is tall and skinny like me, so we can totally mooch off each other. I love that we can have fun conversations and laugh together now. We never used to. She's finally getting out of the annoying pre-teen phase she started at about age nine. Or two.

Last night, I went spooning with the Bathrobe Guy. It was epic and fabulous. We went all over campus, putting little green army men in random places. I think I like them better than the spoons we normally use because they can't be mistaken for trash. We scaled the windowpanes in the chapel, stacked chairs in the dining hall to put one atop the clock, and climbed up each other to stick them on ledges and windowsills. We're both tall, which definitely helped. We found a huge, blank white board in a classroom in Ken Olsen (the new science building) and wrote in huge letters on it, "Her body will lie in the chamber forever. Love and kisses, Tom Marvolo Riddle." Bahahaha.
 
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