Visions of sugarplums

So far, this has been a really great Christmas Eve. I was expecting to work all day today, but my boss graciously decided to let us go home for a half day of Christmas cheer. I survived the traffic, Bryant and I made it through the grocery store just before it closed, and we are now sitting in our warm, cozy living room, watching one of those awful stop-animation movies on abc. Tomorrow we will open presents and attempt to make brisket, and I will sleep in on a Friday morning for the first time in months. Glorious.

Our stockings are hung by the chimney (though the fireplace doesn't actually work), our families sent us a ton of gifts, there is snow on the ground outside, and Bryant's mom made us this awesome candy wreath and there are Riesens in it, and I love Riesens. Who knows? Maybe Santa will show up this year after all.

Merry Christmas! Get off the computer.

but the fire is so delightful

So, it's Saturday, and I already failed my Blog Every Day challenge. Maybe another time, when I'm not scrambling to get things done before deadlines.

It's snowing. Pictures later.

face down, fall apart

I'm exhausted. No matter how much coffee I drink or how many terrifying movies I make myself sit through, my eyelids are always heavy. I am in a perpetual state of fatigue. And it's not that I don't enjoy it. It's nice sometimes, like being in a dream.

But in between taking notes during interviews, sleeping, grabbing fast food at lunch, leaving voicemails for Katie, having dinner with Bryant and watching episodes of Dexter and NCIS, I'm beginning to wonder if I will ever have more time to relax and think on weekdays, if I will ever have free time again. Considering my commute, I only get four hours of time at home every weeknight. Can you believe that? Four hours. And two of those are usually devoted to writing or addressing letters or doing laundry or interviewing someone. It's mind boggling how quickly four hours can pass, not to mention four days, or a month, or a year.

the night is young and it's been awhile

You're welcome.

of all that life can be

My desk at work looks out of place among the editors' desks covered with books and picture frames and stories waiting to be looked at. With the exception of my top drawer (which contains the following items: post-it notes, tape, ponytail holders, thank-you notes, a spare pair of gloves in case I have to scrape ice off of my car after work, pens, paper and a box of delicious Goetze's Caramel Creams), everything is neatly organized. I file stories and interview notes in folders with carefully labeled tabs. They teased me about it the other day, saying, "Sometimes she Swiffers."

But I feel blessed (and I always think it's weird when people say that; it sounds cliché, but I don't care because it is accurate) that I have a job that allows me to do things that I actually enjoy. I am not taking inventory or making someone's coffee; I am not hanging drywall. I write every day, and I interview people and sit in meetings and wear button-down shirts and sweaters and slacks and heels. I wield a stapler and sign e-mails with stupid phrases like "Kind regards." And it's great.

It has finally started to snow here -- not flurries of snow that you can hardly see, like the fleeting white specks we see every year on New Year's Eve in Lake Charles, but real, swirling, white, beautiful snow. It is enchanting in spite of the bitter cold and the nagging fact that I still haven't found a pair of winter boots. Also, I discovered that a device exists that is made specifically for flinging snowballs at people. Brilliant. Oh, and there are "snow-castle kits." Like little plastic boxes formed into tower shapes so that little kids can make forts. Much more exciting than NASA discovering water on the moon. Only kidding. Just a joke. But seriously.

Monday night blog

A few things you need to know:

1) Norah Jones' new CD is awesome.

2) A giant blue UFO/spiral of light reportedly appeared over Norway last week.

3) There are only ten days left until Christmas.

4) I will be working on Christmas Eve.

5) The Princess and the Frog had tarot cards in it, and I didn't even know tarot and voodoo were connected in any way.

6) When I tell people I am from Louisiana, they automatically associate that with New Orleans and think that's where I'm from. Very annoying.

7) It's gotten to the point where I have to force myself to blog. I am officially too busy for my own good.

you've really made the grade

I don't know what it is, but I just can't make myself write a blog post these days. I'm sorry for the lack of updates lately, and I hereby pledge to complete one entry every day for the next week (because, of course, I can't get anything done unless I have a deadline).

Speaking of deadlines, Bryant and I have not set a date for our wedding yet. I am reminded of an episode of Gilmore Girls where Sookie says that Miss Manners says you're not really engaged until you have a ring and a date, but since I have the first part down, I'm not too worried about it. We have, however, started compiling a list of songs that will not be played at our wedding/reception because they suck. They include (but are certainly not limited to):

Canon in D by Johann Pachelbel

We Are Family by whoever the hell sings that song, it isn't even worth looking up

Power of Love by Celine Dion

Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion

What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day

the Chicken Dance song

the Macarena

Walk Like An Egyptian by The Bangles

There are more, but that's the gist. I am also thinking about a segue from Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Dream wedding march into the Rocky Theme...I'll let you know how it goes.