A Christmas Carol (and money murmurings)

Ah, feeling much less zombie-like today. I'm refusing to take pain killers, because I'm a freak, so I can feel the dull ache of where my wisdom teeth should be. And somehow that makes me feel better. Or maybe because I'm refusing to let myself sit on the couch and watch bad TV and feel sorry for myself. I am rather shocked by the fact that Vicodin does absolutely nothing to me. Seriously, I took some last night, hoping to knock myself into a pain-free state of unconsciousness. And nothing happened. I felt relaxed but my jaw still ached and I felt... well, as crummy as I had before. So I've no idea why people find Vicodin so addicting - it certainly does nothing to me.

That being said, I'm going to write an obligatory Christmas post. Because I had a totally rockin' Christmas. It was just with my parents, as it always is now - the drive back to Indiana during winter is a bad idea, considering that snow storms like to spring up out of no where (even if we did have a brown Christmas this year, Indiana still gets some crazy weather). But honestly, it's better with just my parents. No awkward "I don't know what to get you since I don't know you" instances. No feelings of injustice when relatives are not wowed by my academic prowess or year of accomplishments and would rather chat about small-town gossip. No pissed-off Mom and Dad spending the next few weeks being upset with their relatives or in-laws for being socially awkward and self-centered. So, really, staying home is much more in the spirit of the holidays.

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This year, for I think the first time in my entire life, I got everything I asked for on my Christmas list. Which is crazy - I mean, I asked for some crazy stuff - TV seasons, a bunch of books. No fancy electronics, but fairly expensive things. It's not like my parents have failed to fulfill my Christmas lists before. It's just that this one had lost of "optional" things on it - and I got those things too. I am now in possession of the entire released seasons of Torchwood (no Miracle Day because it's not out in the US yet) and Season 1 of Doctor Who (which I am forcing my parents to watch and they actually LIKE it. And I no longer have to keep trying and failing to describe what a Dalek is). I also am now in possession of enough John Barrowman CDs and books to officially be considered nuts. And my parents surprised me with nice pair of Celtic-style earrings. They know me too well :D It's sort of strange for me to get all of this stuff. I mean, I am an only child and thus may be on the verge of being spoiled. But, in a shitty economy, it's weird to see that money - at least for my parents - isn't a problem (my own expenses, of course, is another story). My dad admits to denying things for years because they don't want to buy on credit, but rather be able to buy with the money they have in the bank. And now that they are growing older, they aren't as worried about splurging and going all out for Christmas. I don't have a new iPod or a new phone or anything like that (mainly because I don't WANT one). But I do have a lot of nice things my parents didn't have to get me that I could have lived without - but got anyway. I feel like our gifts have gotten more expensive, more refined... and I don't know what that means. Yes, my parents have a lot more money now than they did when we first moved to Minnesota. They have a lot more money this year than they did five years ago. And it's a weird sort of situation I'm not used to. I mean, I spent two years of my life in a mobile home while my dad was in grad school. We weren't poor; we just didn't want to spend money we didn't need to when we had a place to stay (the lake home which belonged to my grandmother) while my dad was in school. I guess money has been on my mind a lot this year because of different expenses associated with apartment living and learning what my family's income is and with the OWSers screaming for the 1% to share their assets. And I don't know where I fit in this picture anymore. As an independent student with a very low income, well-off parents and a simultaneous desirous yet tight-fisted nature, it's hard for me to know where I stand. But I'm totally digressing right now...

Of course, Christmas isn't all about the getting but also about the giving. Which, despite my stress about getting something fabulous for my parents, worked out easier than I thought it would. I got my dad a nice tie and a set of whisky glasses. And I got my mom some decorative throw pillows and a nice purse (from Macy's - I actually found an affordable, nice purse at Macy's. It made my life).

But overall, things just felt... Christmas-y this year. This time of year brings out the Anglophile in me (I blame being in London for New Years in my sophomore year of high school. And J.K Rowling. And the British just being epic when it comes to celebrating Christmas) and, considering my absorption of British culture, there was plenty of that around me this year. But even going to Christmas Eve mass stimulated it - they had a Renaissance choir that sang throughout the mass. And yet... it's more than just feeling like things are more picturesque for Christmas (despite the lack of snow). My attitude is better in general. I feel more forgiving, more hopeful. More me. And it's a great way to end the year. Yes, I've been grumpy and blue for the last few days because I've had four teeth ripped out of my head. But overall, I'm feeling good. A fantastic way to end a rather exciting but tumultuous year. Which reminds me, I should start making my list of New Year's resolutions - and this year, they are going to ROCK.

A Little Something for the Solstice

Can't go wrong with some Mumford and Sons...

Blue Christmas

http://pic.blackberryseeker.com

Well, [X] has done it now. She's now tainted one of the few sacred things I've got: Christmas.

Here's the deal: my group of friends have this annual tradition of having a Christmas party at [X]'s house every year. Although, because of insinuating circumstances, [X]'s family now lives with her grandmother and she doesn't feel comfortable/isn't allowed to have guests over. And, because I realized that I hadn't heard anything yet about a Christmas party, I messaged her about it. She wasn't sure whether she was up for it, but I told her that [Львица] and I were certainly interested and so she sent out a Facebook message about it. Because she said she couldn't have guests over, [Львица] and I offered up our place. She seemed okay about it, but when I did message her, she sort of flipped out. This was the message:

Me:
Hey, you seem busy and I don't want to pressure you into doing the Christmas party if you don't want to, so if you're not interested in doing it, Sarah and I would be cool just hosting a little get-together at our apartment. I don't want to take over the Christmas party from you or anything and we wouldn't do Secret Santa or anything like that; just dinner and hang-out-ness up here. Lemme know what you think.


[X]:
I don't want to sound like a bitch, but I want to be honest. It's really hard for me to turn over running the Christmas party to anybody, since I've been hosting it since I was in the sixth grade--before I even knew you or Sarah or most of the people who are invited to it now. It's been my way of giving my friends a holiday gift, hokey as that sounds. So not being able to throw it makes me feel really irrelevant.

(Some period of time later)
With that said, I'm not eleven anymore. I know that more people than me feel a sense of ownership over the concept of a "Christmas get-together" now and have every right to host it. And the truth is, I don't really have anything to give right now. I don't have a home to welcome anyone to. I don't have a lot of time or energy. I don't even feel like I have the right "spirit" to do this. So if you and Sarah want to host this get-together, then I'll honestly be okay with that. I may even be relieved. Just please don't think badly of me for not getting to the point of being absolutely ok with not hosting this immediately. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty by being honest with you, I just want you to see all my cards laid out on the table so that nothing gets bottled up to fester.


Me:
Okay, this is not what I expected at all and it makes me really sad. I think you, [Львица] and I need to have a talk about this.

http://mendokusee.deviantart.com/

So she called me and we talked. Sort of. I don't know why but every time I get on the phone, all of my gumption fails. Oh, wait, I know why. Because I'm a coward.

Yep, that's the truth. I'm a sniveling little coward. I can say exactly how I feel about [X] to [Львица] but when it comes to actually telling [X}, I hear her voice, that sound like she's on the verge of tears and suddenly I'm back to square one. I can't tell her that I'm pissed - though I did tell her I was upset and was audibly angry on the phone yesterday. But somehow, I just can't manage to find the words to tell her how I actually feel. Despite the fact that when her I read her message I was shaking and ended up taking out my rage gnashing Cheerios angrily and cathartically writing all kinds of poisonous thoughts for fifteen minutes. When she starts her talk about feeling unworthy of her friends and how bad she feels about herself and how she feels like all of her problems are insignificant and thus won't talk about them (which then makes them more-so - and more dangerously - important because they get all muddled up in stuff like this), it hits the little part inside of me that feels the same way and then I make my stuff unimportant so at least one person thinks her stuff is important (instead of having an equal, two-way street of a friendship). And then because I try to understand her and support her, I can't criticize her without her thinking I hate her - which she's pushing me to only through self-fulling prophecy. Because she thinks everyone hates her, I begin to hate her because I can't be honest with her. I don't hate her - I just want her think before she speaks, to want to change herself for the better. But instead, I don't tell her this; I just talk about her behind her back. Just like she does. In my inability to be honest with her, I become exactly what I hate about her.

And I don't know what to do.

Ironically, we were talking about relationships and aggression (two separate topics that accidentally overlapped due to too much material) in my social psych class on Monday, which was really too much. Sometimes, my psychology classes oddly mirror my life. What it did tell me was that I can't stay this way. I can't passively wait for us to finally grow apart or stick by her even if I get hurt. That's what I've been doing; it doesn't work and it feels wrong. I don't know whether it's best to try to actively work through our problems, because that would take time from her and she seems to damn busy to care about that sort of thing. Besides, I don't know if it's worth trying to work through and save. Which basically gives me one option: tell her it's done. She's pushed me too far away and that I'm done unless she steps forward herself. But that's not just something you can spring on someone. It's not like you can just break up with a friend (I dunno - maybe you can; I've never tried it). But I have so few friends these days, I feel reluctant to do so - because if I piss her off, I piss off everyone else who still talks to me from high school, [Львица] and [action is eloquence] and [uber gay] probably being the only exceptions. And [save the panzer]. Because fortunately for him, he has nothing to do with this shit.

So right now I just feel ansty and stressed and crampy because it's nearly finals time and I literally have cramps. Yay. But I know I can't stay this way. I mean, after I talked to [X] yesterday, I felt like a terrible person. She makes me feel bad about myself. And then "I am what I am" came on my iTunes and I started crying, because I couldn't have felt farther from what I am after that conversation. I was glad [Львица] called me to save me from wallowing in self-pity.

But bloody hell - IT'S CHRISTMAS. I shouldn't feeling bad about myself. I shouldn't put up with [X] totally misconstruing her friendships and, through trying to not make anything about her, totally make everything about her. I SHOULDN'T BE FEELING LIKE A PILE OF CRAP AGAIN. I was so happy before I got that message, thinking all about a holiday party (because I've never hosted a holiday party. Ever. In fact, I think I've only hosted six parties in my entire life). I want that carefree happiness back. Am I going to let [X] get me down. Not anymore. No, I shan't! It's Christmas.

http://my-girl-friday.tumblr.com/post/13713307091/no-i-shant-its-christmas

21

It's happened... I'm officially 21 years old. It's incredible. Actually, yesterday was just incredible in general. Here's the basic run-down of my big, fat twenty-first birthday:

Around eleven o'clock, I started getting ready for my parents to come pick me up. I got a phone call from [X], with [the artist] yelling in the background, both wishing me a happy day. It was a slightly awkward conversation because I got the feeling [X] didn't quite know what to say, but I didn't care - I was glad she called. Then I realized it was snowing - oh, joy of joys! - and my hopes and dreams and prayers for snow on my birthday were answered. Except that I think maybe I'd been hoping a little too much... we got quite a bit more snow than I was expecting. But win - total win!

Due to the sudden onslaught of snow, my parents were a little later than expected, but no matter. We headed over to Brit's Pub, where I had two Strongbows, talked way too much about Scotland, and ate Scotch eggs. Then we ambled over to The Local, had Irish coffee and fish and chips (and got carded - for the first and last time of the day. I was rather shocked. Only one out of three waitresses thought I looked younger than 21? I was surprised. "Are you telling me that I could have tried this long ago and not gotten carded?" I asked my dad. "Probably," he replied. "I can tell by body language - waitresses always treat you like you're older." I must admit this was a bit anti-climatic. Oh well.) Then we crossed the street to The Newsroom, which used to have really good food, but now it was just kind of mediocre. My crab mac and cheese was far too salty. And I made myself content with water because my mom ordered a margarita, didn't even like how it was mixed and discovered it was $11. Shit.

So, to make up for that blip, we went to O'Donnovans, another Irish pub, had another Irish coffee and got free samples of this cake-flavored vodka by Three Olives. Now, flavored vodka always kind of sounded gross to me. BUT THIS WAS FANTASTIC. Mixed with pineapple juice and amaretto, it made this drink that tasted like pineapple upside-down cake. It was really brilliant. So my dad ordered a drink called coffee cake, that included the flavored vodka, Bailey's Irish cream, and coffee (and whipped cream. Absolutely has to have whipped cream). The bartender accidentally made a shot as well, so we got two drinks for the price of one and shared them. My dad then told the girls doing the promoting that it was my birthday, so I got my picture taken with them and a free tiara, which I then proceeded to wear until we left the bar, when I decided that I was tired and a total light-weight and it was time to go home. So home I went to discover what present my parents had bought me (a gift set of two shot glasses and Jameson Irish whiskey - for the win :D ) and to watch SNL (and a brilliant performance by Florence + The Machine) with [Львица].

Sadly I had a stomach ache for most of the night and a better part of this morning (too much food, too much alcohol, too much sweet stuff, too much fun) but other than that it was absolutely perfect. It was the best birthday ever. And it's made me feel that things are only going to get better from here. Thanks to everyone for their warm birthday wishes and gifts - the kindness and generosity I saw made me all warm and fuzzy and felt so loved. I have the best friends and family in the world :)

Minnesota Weather

If there is one thing Minnesota would be especially famous for, it'd probably be it's weather. The extreme shifts from -40 degree wind chills in January and the 90 degree hot August days, and everything in between. It seems that perhaps (knock on wood) that spring has come early this year - as I slipped on melting ice this morning, skinning both of my knees. Either this is a goodbye embrace from winter, or a rough welcome from spring. Regardless, I am satisfied with the fact that I can walk to class without my cheekbones freezing, even if it means I will be limping due to the bandages on my maimed legs.

The weather here has made Minnesota a sort of awe-factor for many. We're known for being bad-ass about the snow (unless you're the Minnesota Vikings) and for wearing shorts and sandals in 40 degree temps. Which, if you're from Florida might seem insane. But trust me - 40 degrees feels really fricken warm after sub-zero Arctic winds.

Minnesota is also (apparently) not known for being very fashion conscious. If you live in the Uptown area of Minneapolis, then this is not so true. But when the wind is so cold that the very jelly in your eyes begins to glaze over with a sheen of ice, then how you look simply is the last thing on your mind. Thus sweatshirts and bulky jackets are very popular. And Uggs... I know Uggs were apparently meant for beachwear or something bizarre like that. Here, they suffice to get many girls from one side of campus to the next in the middle of a Snowpocalypse.

Why do I bother to comment on Minnesota weather? Because, geographically, we deal with shit that some other states simply don't. If you took the aquatic elements of most Great Lake states (considering Minnesota is one of them), mixed that with the Great Plains, the forests of New York and the East Coast, and threw in some muggy days that states like Georgia would be more apt to have, then that's a rough blend of the seasonal spectrum here. If we had mountains or more tectonic plate stuff, things would be every crazier, with Colorado's mudslides and California's earthquakes. Fortunately, that's not the case. However, we do have weather fluctuation that can drive some people absolutely nuts. Two weeks ago, it was about 5 degrees during the day. Now it's 36. Next week, it could be snowing (I hope not). Or it could be in the 50s. Hard to say, really. Yeah, other states have this sort of meteorological phenomenon (as my meteorologist friend would tell me). Because, in Minnesota, amongst all the wetlands and lakes and prairie (and suburbs and metropolis as well) we don't really care if other states get snow too or get flooding and severe thunderstorms. Here, we feel it's different - there's an added sense of drama. It doesn't just snow, it blizzards. It doesn't just rain, it storms. That's not to say we don't get totally mundane weather (we totally do; our meteorologist just love being drama queens). We just regard weather differently than I think other states do. Being from Indiana originally, people flip out when an inch of snow falls. Here, it snows and we complain, but things go on as normal. We could get a foot of snow and the likelihood of school being closed is quite unlikely. Culturally, weather plays a huge factor into what makes Minnesotans. Without it, we'd act less like bad-asses. And probably stop trying to one-up Wisconsin every other minute.