Don't believe what those so-called "scientists" tell you...

The human body was originally designed to live in hot water. Maybe we've come from a planet where the entire surface is covered in three to five feet of water at roughly 150 degrees ferenheit, or maybe the earth itself used to be like that, and some environmental catastrophe destroyed our hot water paradise, but the fact of the matter is that the ideal environment for human existence is hot water. I don't mind telling you, I could've stayed in that shower all day if the hot water hadn't stopped coming. True story. Of course, my theory might imply that in its ideal environment, the human body is a formless pink prune-looking thing, and that wouldn't really be conducive to the already difficult (or perhaps not difficult enough) task of propogating the species. Yeah, probably wouldn't happen.
Cedar roping and Christmas lights still grace various surfaces throughout the house, and pine needles are beginning to pile up on the carpet, in anticipation of Christmas get-together number three, due to take place in a few more days. Much as I love seeing relatives, and much as I appreciate their interest in my life, I'd kill to have no one ask me anything about myself, my education, my employment prospects, etc... Hm. Now that I think of it, that's probably a bad thing. It might mean that I should either be happy enough about where I am in life to not mind telling people about it, or should be doing something worth talking about. I suppose that I could always scare them into praying for me by telling them that all I want to do with my life is ride a skateboard and play guitar all the time, occasionally breaking to smoke a cigarette, or get a new tatoo. Of course, those who know me well enough to know that I hate smoke, have no tatoos, and can't skateboard or ride guitar might not be fooled that easily. Details schmetails, I just need to tweak my dreams a bit. Hm... Rodeo rider? Nah, they'd never beleive it. Astronaut? Nope, they'd just tell me that on the way to doing that I could become a successful engineer. Blah, I suppose that I might as well bite my lip and succumb to the onslaught.

Christmas Eve-ish

Hello. I don't suppose that between travelling to in-laws and shopping till you feel like droppings and chesnuts roasting on an open fire right down Santa Claus Lane you feel particularly up to reading this thing, but I feel like writing on it, and as the title implies, it's all about me, baby. It's Christmas time, which still feels wonderful to say if you stop and think about it, but you have to be careful about context and traffic signals and all. I was doing some shopping for gifts this week (yeah, I know, shock), and it struck me just now that I didn't really do so with all that much attention paid to giving the darn things. I just wanted to give the gifts that I would be expected to give, and hopefully no one would hate what I gave them, and within a few weeks they'd forget that it was me who gave them that thing that they never use. I was reflecting on this with a friend, and for some reason the ever popular A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens came to mind, where Scrooge wakes up on Christmas day and, feeling as if he's got a new lease on life, sends a boy off to find a huge turkey, and then sends the turkey to his faithful and impoverished employee's family. My thought process didn't exactly make a lot of sense, but the scene popped into my head because the gift of turkey wasn't expected. Scrooge just felt so darn Christmasy that he sent the biggest turkey money could find off to the Cratchets, unsolicited (now that I think of it, Cratchet's a sort of a silly sounding name, but I'm no Charles Dickens). God bless us every one indeed. I realize that this was important because earlier in the story he's the stingiest man alive, but it still managed to make me feel silly for just buying presents because that's what you do for Christmas. No, I'm not trying to make some point about how our beloved holiday has become too commercialized and all that, goodness knows that if that's what you want to hear there are plenty of people to say it to you, I'm just trying to say that for me at least, the whole thing can get so automatic. You put up a tree, you buy gifts for the people you like and a few people who you don't like, but it would be socially difficult to get away with not giving them gifts, you decorate your house, you make one hell of a meal (not to mention the cookies-you can't forget those), you wear a few garments for the first time since they were given to you last Christmas, you think about the poor in our cities and our soldiers in foriegn countries for a few days, and when it's all over you drag the tree out to the curb (or put it in its box back in the basement if you're one of those people), clean up the wrapping paper and various nondescript spills, and go back to your everyday existence, because that's what you do for Christmas. Hopefully somewhere in the middle of all that you also manage to sit down and spend a few precious hours with those people, but some people don't. I guess I'm just bemoaning (I know, it's so unlike me to bemoan anything) how taken-for-granted it all is, at least by me, when Christmas itself is so deliberate. What makes Christmas special is that God himself deliberately did what was not expected of him by anyone and became Man. The world changed. Man's relationship with God and with creation was altered. God humbled himself so much as to become a man! Anyways, I guess I'm just trying to say merry Christmas and a happy New Year to you, sorry if I got a little wordy in there. Do your shopping, cook your turkeys, say a prayer for the poor and the sick, don't forget to ask for peace in the world and try to have faith that someone can deliver it. Put up a big Christmas tree and decorate it with as little attention to home decorating conventions as possible (let's face it, a dying evergreen tree covered with trinkets and lights is never going to be all that tasteful, might as well have some fun). Smile when you're driving alone at night and you pass by a life-sized nativity scene, and every time someone tells you "Happy Holidays," respond with an even more cheerful "Merry Christmas," and try to say it like you've never gotten to say it to anyone before, and it's been all bottled up inside of you. Aw heck, you know what to do much better than I do. Merry Christmas, I hope that it's one full of joy, love, and peace.

I'll be home for Christmas...

Heya kids! Sorry that I completely dropped the ball on posting for over two weeks, I hope that someone still reads this. My only excuse is that blogging is rightfully not among the highest of my priorities, and just to give perspective on the last week, neither are sleeping and eating. Still, whiner-uh, martyr that I am, I suffered through it all with herculean fortitude, or something. All in all, finals weren't all that bad, and I managed to take a break on the weekend in the middle of them long enough to bruise my tailbone in an embarrasing sledding accident. I spent the next few days cautiously sitting down in the most comfortable chairs I could find, and then slowly adjusting my weight so as not to put any on the afflicted tailbone. The worst part about the whole sore bum incident was that there was no way to garner the least bit of pity from my peers, who were too amused after hearing that I had fallen on my arse while attempting to sled down a hill standing up on the sled to muster up even the least bit of convincing sympathy. I'm a martyr, what can I say?
In any case, I finished with my last final on Wednesday morning, after spending the night in the snack bar frantically studying for the thing and consuming enough coffee to kill Keith Richards, and on Wednesday evening I headed home, having made sure that I'd forgotten at least one thing that I'd want during my nearly month-long break. In all seriousness, I should plan ahead next time to bring something that I don't need, and then I can plan to forget it, even though I'm also planning to bring it. Much simpler, you see.
The last few days have been pretty busy, but with nothing unpleasant, catching up with friends and family and going to parties and such. Nothing to complain about there, even for me. That's all for now with the life update, but here's one more thing a friend sent to me: If you copy the link below into your web browser, and follow some directions, you should be able to watch a fun video of someone taking this whole Christmas thing entirely too far. Enjoy!

www.snopes.com/photos/arts/xmaslights.asp

A day late and a dollar short

Greetings, friends! I hope that you're all well. Life's a bit crazy for the next little while, but I figured I have to update in order to keep at least one of you reading this silly thing, since my last post is two weeks old. Thanksgiving was wonderful, I got to spend some time with people who I'd been missing, eat a lot of food, hold my new neice for a bit, go bowling, make a snowman, and dance the night away. Ok, so I lied about the dancing the night away thing, you caught me. Papers are progressing slowly, but I'll have them done on time, since that's my only option. Tests are coming up, but so far I've been in good health, so I may beat my two-year streak of being ill during finals, but I shouldn't jinx that. I submitted my application to graduate from this fine institution of higher learning today, and baring the possibility of failing any of my classes I'll bid adieu to Hillsdale College in may. On one hand, that seems like a very long time, but on the other hand, not so much. It's Advent, which is nice. I tend to need every reminder possible that nothing's forever and He's coming back at some point. It beats getting bogged down in the day-to-day stuff, which I have a tendency to do. My room's cluttered with laundry dirty and clean, books and papers and class handouts and writing utensils everywhere. Nothing's where I once decided it should be. I find that my room often serves as a metaphor, or maybe just a direct reflection of the rest of my life, so I'd better clean up and organize both. Days seem shorter this time of year, and I sometimes wonder where all the time I used to have is gone, and why I've accomplished so much less than I set out to. I guess that's life, though. Echoes and whispers and walks on moonlit nights where you can see your breath and your ears get so cold that they hurt all pile up like words on a page that nobody bothered to organize into complete sentences and thoughts, and no one seems to be going anywhere but they're always walking anyways. Cars can slide on roads better than they roll sometimes, and things can fall apart much easier than they can be accomplished most of the time, not much we can do about that than put the cork back on the chablis, get up outta the easy chair and keep trying to treadmill uphill. Yessir, we run a tight ship around here, as long as time keeps breathing down our necks, but don't expect too much or else you'll be angry as hell when you find out your snot-nosed brat got that tatoo without asking you, and she's hanging out with absolutely the wrong kind of sweater-wearing pansy. Hell, he might even play guitar, and you know those guys ain't goin' nowhere. Light, smoke, crash, burn, et cetera, you couldn't hit the floor unless you fell on it, which you're probably going to do pretty soon.