Do They Know It's Christmas Time At All?

So, yeah, Christmas.

Blah.

Here's the thing: Christmas is really exciting for me. I like it. I like visiting my family, I like buying presents, I like receiving presents, and, perhaps most importantly, WRAPPING presents.

But.

I'm kind of getting tired of it. Looking back on last Christmas, which was my first Christmas since graduating from school, I realize there was a lot of stress. Now, when I say my first Christmas since graduating from school, I mean the first Christmas in 20 years where I was not on "Christmas break." In fact, I was on no break at all, because I had just started my job, so I had no money and no vacation time. I flew out the Saturday before Christmas and flew back Christmas day. And then went back to work early the next morning. So, yeah, some stress.

This Christmas, I daresay it was worse. I had no excuse for not being on top of everything. Oh, well, I did get a second job to help pay down some credit card debt. And I did have to plan for my sister's bridal shower, to be held on the 27th. But I did have some vacation time. And a little bit of money. And I'm more settled into my apartment now than I was last Christmas.

I just can't help feeling like I'm missing out on actually enjoying it. And, yeah, I know you've heard it all before. But I'm not talking about missing out on the true meaning of Christmas or remembering that Jesus is the Reason for the Season or anything so deep or spiritual as that. Just that I like to buy presents, get presents, eat good food and hang out with my family.

And this year I spent a month WORRYING about these things instead of looking forward to them. I worried about getting everything down to New Orleans in one piece. I worried about how I would fit all my gifts in my luggage (if that isn't a first-world sob story no one sobs over, I don't know what is). I worried about my flights, My Darlin's flights, getting both of us to and from the airport. I worried about neglecting someone while I was in town to visit. And I did neglect people. Like everyone. And so here I am. It's New Year's Eve and I haven't recovered from Christmas. I haven't unpacked my suitcase. I haven't beaten the Super Mario Brothers game. Oh, whoops. I mean, I have bigger concerns than that.

SO! This year. This year will be better. As you can see from my very first post here on No Major Issues, this blog was a New Year's Resolution of sorts from last year. Although I didn't keep up with it quite like I had hoped, I do plan to try harder this year. I'll be back soon to regale you with stories of my New Year's Eve (Pop Tart, anyone?).

Planty Planty Plants

I don't think I'm a good gardener. Actually, that's overstating it--I don't think I'm a good house plant-tender. I had 2 plants in my house until yesterday. One was a tiny little thing, green and leafy, in a small ceramic pot, the other a tall palm-like thing, in a large plastic pot. I think I last watered them in June.

But anyway.

Obviously, when you are not very good at tending the plants in your house, the solution is to buy more plants, so that they can all mock you with their dying and their leaf-losing. Yesterday, I went to IKEA to buy some new plants. I bought 5. I didn't really need 5, but my living room has this weird stale smell to it and I thought that bringing in some plants might help to freshen it up. (Does it work that way? Will the plants magically make my living room have fresher air?) I'm quite pleased with how these plants look, in their adorable, matching, white, ceramic pots. Hopefully I'll remember to water these. I bought a purple watering can as well to make watering more fun, so I'm on my way to a lush, verdant habitat, fit for fauna of the Amazon.

I might need to go buy a bag of dirt tonight. The large palm-like plant is just in a plastic pot inside the much larger plastic pot and is leaning precariously to one side. There's something about buying dirt, though, right? I mean, can't I just go somewhere and grab a couple handfuls? All this plant talk got you down? I'll change the subject.

I have been designing some databases (definitely not something I'm trained to do) and I've been consulting Colour Lovers for some color palettes that will look nice together and be better than the default blues and greys. I do love this site and all the great patterns and palettes, but methinks sometimes these designers get a little too into their "art," most of which is probably done in MS Paint. Par example, the palette I chose for my most recent database is called "Archaic Love." Really? Archaic? Nice.

What's Your Dream?

Do you remember that guy in Pretty Woman that walked around asking people what their dreams were? No? OK.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my future. I'm sure I'm completely alone in contemplating what the next 10 years of my life look like. No one has similar thoughts, concerns, and wishes, right? I'm a totally unique little blogger, right?

Anycrap, I've been thinking about what my dream job is and how I might get there. The problem with focusing on my one goal in life and not straying from it is that I actually have two jobs. There are at least two things that I think would make me fabulously happy to do for the rest of my life.

1) The first job would be to work for the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime. They have a branch office in Russia (I know it's a big country, but I don't remember the city and this is a research-free blog) where I would love to work. In what capacity? Dunno. But, since I am quite pro-Russia and quite anti-drug, it suits my interests nicely.

2) The second job is to open "Little Buffalo Dry Goods," either in New Orleans (my hometown) or in Del Ray, Virginia, which is a charming little community. The little shop I'm thinking of would sell fabric by the yard, as well as various handmade goods and craft supplies. When I picture it, there are lots of windows and the shop itself is fairly simple--most of the decorations are supplied by bolts of brightly colored fabrics that are for sale and brightly colored skeins of yarn and embroidery floss. Oh, if only.

So, yes, those are my two dream jobs. I don't know which I'll work toward. At the moment, the thought of expending a large quantity of money to start my own business seems appalling. What with the student loans and the credit card debt--oy, the credit card debt--spending any money seems appalling. Perhaps there will be a way, someday.

In other news, I can't remember the last time I ate a vegetable, so it may be time to have a salad for lunch.

My Own Private Idago

Lately at work I've been working on a project that involves all 50 states and various territories, commonwealths, etc. Not only does this project allow me to show off some of my Microsoft Office skillz, which were hard won in high school computer science, but I also get to type the names of the states a lot. This delights me. There are some states, though, that I just can't seem to get right, no matter how many times I type them--Idaho and Massachusetts.

For Mass..., I can just never remember where there are double esses and where there are double tees. I just throw a bunch of them in there and hope for the best. Also, I think Massachusetts should consider switching from Mass to Ma­ + that little German character that stands for a double "s." Let's spice things up, Massachusetts!

For Idaho, as noted in the title, I always type "Idago." Frankly, I think this is an improvement. Ida-GO! Idaho should consider it when coming up with a new tourism slogan.

Nothing else to report.

To Hose or Not to Hose

I've recently stopped wearing pantyhose to work. There are so many good reasons to avoid pantyhose (e.g., the discomfort, the potty-related inconvenience, the near-certain destruction before a big meeting) that it's strange that more people don't forgo them all together. Or maybe they do. Maybe I'm behind the times.

It may be a Southern thing--ladies do not go out in skirts with their legs bare. Certainly, they don't go to the office with bare legs. Heavens! There's also the girdle question, which to me settles itself as soon as you ask me to purchase something called "girdle." (See previous entry on "Crunk") My Granny would never go out in a skirt if she weren't wearing a girdle. Sometimes I consider it, but then I remember that being free and easy is preferable.

So, to settle the question once and for all, my pros and cons of pantyhose:

Pro

• Smooths out curves when wearing pencil skirts
• Makes leg skin appear smooth and flawless and, just as importantly, not the color of skim milk
• Not necessary to shave legs on a regular basis (wait, what?)
• Makes wearing of shorter skirts to the office less of a faux pas (this really applies more to tights, but it makes sense in this list as well)

Con

• Considering I usually only get one wearing out of them before I put a thumb through the calf, this is an expensive proposition
• Delays emergency potty breaks by crucial seconds (no need to mention that I could just go to the bathroom when I first feel the urge)
• Allows me to be extra lazy on the leg shaving front
• Difficult to find a perfect fit and too small pantyhose are the worst

That's enough of this list, I think. Today I am wearing a blue skirt that is a rather full cut, some conservative looking pumps, and no hose. Also, I took a chunk of my heel out when I was shaving this morning and it looks like I was in a slasher movie. The band-aid is barely covering the carnage.

Oh, right, I was going to settle the pantyhose question. I think the real answer for me lies in not having a position one way or the other. When I'm wearing a skirt that I feel adequately conceals all that needs to be concealed, I don't mind skipping the hose. When I have an important meeting or my legs will not just be hanging out under my desk all day, I'll probably end up wearing pantyhose. Ditto for if I feel my outfit might not be dressy enough for work--pantyhose and "conservative pumps" make everything a little classier. Oh! Class! That should have been on the Pro list.

MRI!

I went to get my MRI this morning. Here is my review, in case you were considering getting one—
1. They asked if I was claustrophobic. I’m all, “Nah.” Then they start to slide me into the tube, the top of which is about 4 inches from my face. And I start to get nervous. Luckily, they end up sliding me most of the way through the tube, so if I look up I can see the ceiling.
2. I was listening to the radio on the big ol’ stereo headphones they gave me to wear and the station keeps fading in and out, which annoys me to no end.
3. My arms are all crossed across my chest and I’m holding a little buzzer to call the tech (nurse?) if I need her. I’m a nervous wreck that I’m going to move and/or accidentally hit the buzzer. I tried to just rest my elbows against the sides of the tube (yes, the sides were that close) to keep from moving too much. I give myself a B-.
4. It is HOT. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back and my chest and I feel disgusting. My face is all greasy, my hair is starting to get damp…ugh.
5. My back is arched in an unnatural position that is starting to hurt my hips.
6. Tech/Nurse comes back in because it’s time to inject the contrast serum (or whatever they call it). That goes OK, so it’s back in the tube for 10 more minutes.
7. About 5 minutes to go, and I start to freak out a little. I can feel my back cramping up (ready to be a jerk for the rest of the day), I’m sweating buckets, and I’m starting to feel claustrophobic. I now know what people mean when they say that. I’m ready to hit the buzzer and just tell her to use what they have, because I need to get out of there. My heart is pounding and I’m sweating even more and I start to feel a little teary and panicky but I make myself hold out for the remaining 5 minutes.
8. Time’s up. I change my clothes and go wake up My Darlin', who was in the waiting room.

All in all, I give the experience an F+. I’m always fascinated by new (to me) medical procedures, so I was kind of excited-nervous about getting the MRI, but I didn’t enjoy it at all. Also, I was given a coral-colored kimono to wear whilst in the tube. When I walked out of the MRI room, there was a man wearing a blue kimono. And I wondered—do we really need to distinguish our gender by kimono color? It would be ok to have me wear a blue kimono while getting an MRI. It really would be ok to have the men wear coral kimonos while in the MRI. We’re not infants. People aren’t relying on our choice of color to determine our gender. Besides, I look terrible in coral.

The Temptation on my Desk

I spent a large portion of the day yesterday reading archives from this blog. Feeling all inspired, I decided to use my "Lock & Lock" food storage containers to pack a lunch. My Nanny bought me these containers from QVC, which is her most favorite-est mall ever. More about that another time.

So, today's menu: two frozen meatballs from Trader Joe's, mashed potatoes, and edamame (can I please just call them soybeans?) with sesame seeds. I was inspired by Biggie's morning prep work on her bento box lunches. Normally, if the cupboard was bare, I would just get McDonald's or something for lunch or bring one of my shelf-stable packages of Trader Joe's lentils. Seriously, try the Indian themed lentils. But, hey--if a woman with a preschooler can make 3 healthy, creative lunches in the mornings then I can surely handle it. So.

The meatballs:
Yeah, these involved no prep work. They are frozen. I opened the bag and put two into one of my bigger Lock & Locks.

The mashed potatoes:
A few weeks (OK, months) back, I bought a bag of frozen veggies. It was a mix of baby corn, baby carrots, red peppers, broccoli, and tiny new potatoes. I have eaten everything out of this package except for a handful of potatoes and the carrots, which--sorry--went in the trash. So I just took the frozen little potatoes (so cute!) and threw them into my tiniest sauce pan of salted boiling water and went about my business until they were cooked to a near mush. Then I tossed them into the colander, then back into the pot. Then I added a splash of half & half and a pat of butter. They may be the best mashed potatoes I've ever made--no trying to get fancy or worrying about proportions. And, really--isn't the proper proportion of butter to anything else infinity:1?

The soybeans:
I just boiled them in their pods from their frozen state, then shelled them and put them in smaller Lock & Lock with rice vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce, and some toasted sesame seeds. They are the temptation on my desk. I want to eat them right now. I decided not to put them in the fridge, because they don't really contain anything that can't sit safely at room temperature for a few hours. And because they look so delicious. I like knowing they're there. The promise of a delicious lunch.

Enough about lunch? OK.