I like a man who uses words to make his point.

To make something possible - is to make me smile.

=)

Hello.

My parents loved their gifts, in a "my parents" sort of way. Christmas Eve and Christmas was an affair to remember... my cousin brought over his new girlfriend, that no one has met, who happens to be his new wife-to-be as well. Very interesting to say the least. On the relationship line, my uncle is going through a divorce and is currently dating a woman older than him... he hasn't brought anyone along to family events in over a year, and it's strange seeing him with someone else. Makes all of us miss our Aunt Jo... and it creates feelings that are new. No one really understood why she left him, and "the kids" don't understand why she broke off all ties. We miss her. A Christmas card would have been nice.

We had both holiday parties over here, since Kel can't leave. Usually, my mother's side of the family celebrates Christmas Eve at Grandma's... it's a big ordeal. When we were young we (all the cousins and Aunts and Uncles,) would go to mass together at the church my grandmother still attends, and before we returned someone would have piled all the Christmas gifts under the tree as a surprise. My grandfather would put on his Santa hat (it was decorated with gold glitter that spelled Papa on the brim,) and pass out presents to the children. After our gifts were opened we were sushed out of the room and the adults would do their Gag gifts. True, hilarious, not-for-children Gag gifts.

This year, my grandmother took five hours to pass out the children's gifts and Gag gifts consisted of "Build Your Own Teddy" bear's and "God Bless My Home" plaques. Even the re-gift, an African American angel that has been part of Gag gifts since I was little, and just resurfaced, wasn't greeted with much laughter. Not even the pooping reindeer and rap Christmas music was that funny.

I just don't know what happened. Did we all grow up and misplace our sense of humor? Leave it behind? When was Christmas ever this boring? It was different this year. Sad, subdued, calm. Not complete.

The gifts were still there. (I was going to say "present." Ha!) I enjoyed when my second cousin Andrew screamed "YES!" after opening his XU flag and tee-shirt. (He was soo excited. They used to live in Cincy and he just loves Xavier.) I screamed myself... the digital camera that was "too expensive" showed up under the Christmas tree... I can't wait to start taking pictures. There already is one of my cousin Kristen and I drinking beer with our dinner today. (Giving my father chest pains was a fun gift.)

I don't know though, it still just wasn't the same.

My digital camera surprise reminded me of another "too expensive" gift that I still look for under the Christmas tree. Ever since I was... well in fifth grade it began... so around there I fell in love with the piano. Wanted one more than anything in the world. (You know how fifth graders are.) Every year I would walk down the steps in the morning of Christmas and peek around the corner of our living room, to see if perhaps it was sitting waiting. It never was, and I still look. Someone must remember that I wanted that for Christmas years ago. One day.

Dinner is waiting. The catering company made our dinner this year, for Mom since she did so much with Kelly, to give her a break. It's just the five of us tonight, a quiet Christmas.

Simple. Peaceful.

(Wait, this is us.)

Have a merry one, wherever you are, and no matter how peaceful it isn't.

I've been thinking about it, and after I become bored with all of your problems, I'm going to retire and open up a bookstore. Everyone says Christmas is about giving, and one of the greatest joys I've recieved is the gift of a delighted customer when you find their book. I'm giving to them the gift of a book, and they give me joy.

Then again, I hate bookstores because it attracts the dirty men who buy "Karma Sutra for Dummies," and the guy today buying a Playgirl, while swearing it wasn't for him, (when you are so stubborn about something that you repeat your plea more than a few times, something is amiss.) I laughed at him after he left. The Playgirl wasn't for him, and neither was the Victoria's Secret purchase he held in his hand.

HA.

Talked to Chris tonight. I think he knows of the blog... we had a conversation about the purpleness. I don't know if he is one of the random Shouters... oh well. I was being a girl and asked him if he missed me. He said, "I miss our conversations." My sister, the seventh grader who thinks she knows all about relationships, told me that he must hate me and think I'm a superzoid freak.

Not sure if I want to be one of those.

Chris, if you read this, am I a superzoid freak?

~~~

My parents are recieving their presents tommorow. I am soo excited. This is the first year Kelly and I have been able to spend for my parents, and I am so proud of our purchases. They deserve a merry Christmas this year, and some relaxation.... Kelly bought Mom a day at the spa, and Dad floor seats to a Cavs game. I got both of them champane and glasses, plus dinner at the restaurant where they had their wedding reception, and for Mom, a gift certificate to have her hair done, (professionally for once.) It will be such a surprise, especially since they think they are getting lousy old Xavier tee's from me.

Wasn't I just rambling about the joy of giving? Yay.

~~~

I am taking Kel to get her nails done tommorow. I'm a bit nervous. She has to wear a mask if she goes out in public, so not to become ill. It's going to be hard. Seeing her wear that. Sometimes you forget she is sick... she's just Kelly.

~~~

You know, being a superzoid freak would be great. I think I would hate him if he told me that he missed our wild romps in the hay or something equally as dirty that perhaps a dirty man buying a dirty magazine would say. So, I hope he goes on missing our conversations, even if there ever becomes a time where there is something else to miss.

I really need to stop analyzing and just quit psychology and open up that damned bookstore already.

The End.

(Merry, merry!)

I should be apologizing for my site being purple for so long instead of the previous post, but instead, I won't apologize for either.

I catered Friday night. Walked out with $100 tip. Come home (around two in the morning,) standing in my underwear staring at this $100 bill. What do you do with a hundred dollar bill?? I couldn't put it in my purse, what if it was stolen? I could never leave it sitting around my room... and if I placed it in my piggy bank, I might have to break the antique to get the money out one day.

I finally decided to stick it in my CD player. I'm not really sure where I came up with that idea, but you know. It was almost two in the morning.

Don't go looking for it. Besides, it's going to be Christmas money for my family. So - family - if you steal it, then I will not only beat you up but not spend it on you.

Waldenbooks is wonderfully annoying. I find great pleasure in leading customers to their book, but can't stand the ten hour days. How boring.

Short Catering Play:

MB: Would you like an hors d'oeuvre?
Man: No, how about a smooch?
MB: I'm sorry, I am only giving out hors d'oeuvres.

Lauren: Would you like an hors d'oeuvre?
Old Italian Drunk: No, but that other girlie over there (MB) will give me a big fat wet smooch.
Lauren: Well, you will have to talk to her about that.

(Later)

Man: Will you give me that smooch now?
MB: No.
Man: Sometime soon?
MB: How about an hors d'ouevre?

The end.

Catering sucked. Besides the tip.

And no, I only passed out hors d'ouevres the whole evening. Promise.

I sometimes wonder why I don't smoke. I need to keep my mouth occupied.

Just as things are going well with being friends with Tom, I say something stupid and it goes down the shitter. I really need to learn how to keep my mouth shut. I'm such a f*ing idiot, really.

Despite being an asshole just now on the phone with Tom, I had a pretty awesome night hanging out with Kris.

(When did I become such a flake? I long for the days when my posts had substance. ** Long exaggerated sigh. ** )

I guess whining about it won't do a bit of good.

Kris and I talked a little about religion tonight. I had mentioned the article in Newsweek that described the "rebel Catholics" who have begun making "Catholics wear condoms" ads. If I wasn't lazy I'd get off my ass and find the article, but, you know. Anywho, we just started talking about the Catholic church, Life Teen, Franciscan.... how been a good Catholic when we were younger was about "faking" an adoration experience, talking to a priest about our sins, (*I swore, I lied to my parents...*) and going to mass every single Sunday - along with the program after. We just got into this discussion of how we were brought up believing we were bad and having the guilt, and constant apologizing. Somehow, all of this was supposed to make me a great Christian. So where am I now? No faith life what-so-ever. Unless you consider the tremendous amount of guilt over skipping mass on Sunday to study. Is that all Franciscan taught me? Guilt?

Let's place some of the blame on myself shall we? I'm the awful Catholic who left the "heaven on Earth" college. If I wanted a deeper relationship with God I would have stayed at FUS and signed up for a weekly adoration hour and began going to daily mass. Yeah. To sit there and wonder where the f*ck God is in all this bullshit.

My sister has her f*ing intestines hanging out of her and an IV in her arm. And I'm sure if I was a better Catholic I would know how to pray to God and ask Him to heal her and make everything okay. But I'm a shitty Catholic who left the perfect school and skips mass to study. And honestly, I can't find God anywhere right now.

~~~

Yeah. I'm done.

Perhaps Date#2, (who insists we have not been on a date just yet,) is sticking around longer than I suspected. He did remove a certain roadblock....

I can't help but grinning.

Whee!

I have no words.

(I have been deleting the ones I've had.)

I'm clicking on links becoming frustrated that everyone else has something deep and profound to blog about and I'm beginning to sound like the posts I hate reading. Which could explain the lack of shouts... or perhaps I'm friendless.

Shout more. I suppose I will write something profound and deep and you will shout.

Maybe later.

I didn't mention that Date#1 and Date#2 were different men. Also, Date#2 ended up being quite enjoyable, so we will see how long it lasts. The MB Dating Pool is filling up, so jump in now if you want to place a bet. I'm betting on Wednesday afternoon as Date#2's finale.


Words of wisdom from Evening#2 with Date#2:

~ Only drinking part of your Long Island does not mean that you will stay sober.

~ As Ursula stated in the Little Mermaid: "Never underestimate the importance of Body Language!"

~ Confidence is a turn-on.

~ There are some people you were born knowing.

One of these days I'm going to go back to sounding like a complete mush, and I fear that I am melting already. Not a good idea. Even though, I don't know how far romance and love and all that other bullshit can go with my cynical attitude. Perhaps that would be a roadblock.

Then again, it's not as big as the roadblock of a girlfriend.

I can sure pick 'em.

Words of wisdom from Date#1:

~ Art and porn are not synonymous.

~ When he persists in trying to get you drunk, then decides he can try to score when you are sober, there is a problem.

~ "College guys don't want to let on that they have girlfriends," is a bad pick up line.

Words of wisdom from Date#2:

~ Gravy cheese fries are disgusting unless you're drunk.

~ "Would you like to come back to my ... dorm room," is not a sexy phrase to a graduate.

~ Platonic needs to be banned from the English language.

I bought "A Very Special Acoustic Christmas," thinking it would have awesome Christmas songs on it... instead, it has Reba McEntire singing Silent Night.... "rauwnd yawn virgin mother and child/holey infant so tender and mild/sleeeep in heafeanly peace/sleep in heafanly peace/ohhh sleep in hea-von-leee-peace!"

I know the accent doesn't work quite as well in words, but I think you get my point.

Make sure I don't listen to this CD while drinking Eggnog. Or you will all get a rendition of my own "Reba" Silent Night.

My computer was already off and I had the urge to blog. (Oh dear. Talk about the power of commercials... all of a sudden I'm singing in my head "She had the urge to Herbal!" Gross.)

I woke up this morning remembering my dreams. Perhaps it was because I woke naturally, since I slept my way through Spanish. My first dream was about my friend Sean and I getting into a car accident very similar to the one I had myself. It was one of those vivid dreams, and it just ended. Right before the side of the car was smashed into. I even remember bracing myself for the impact. Very eerie.

My second dream was a bit more of a nightmare. ::wink:: I was having such a lovely dream about this gentleman co-worker of mine who has been flirting with me... and it was wonderful until he asked me out, and I was quite excited to be saying yes... but... the dream pulled a Beauty and the Beast on me and the co-worker turned into ... well I will leave that up to your imaginations. Let's just say it was not co-worker Chris.

~~~

I need advice, there is an open bed at the other end of my wing, and it would be with my friend J, who may move into an apartment with Denise and I next semester. (Depending of course, if we need the money and have to take a third roommate... etc.) The suitemates are also close friends of mine. There are soo many benifits to moving down there. Most of all, there is no stalker psycho suitemate, like the one I have now. I just don't know if it is a good idea. I feel bad leaving India (Who would she room with then? Will I hurt her feelings because I want to move out?)

Denise thinks I should think of me. I would get more sleep, have a more peaceful enviornment... I don't know. Advice? Anyone?? PLEASE??

~~~

Kelly has been having fevers. They think something is infected... more later. (Eak. Pray. Hard.)

Kelly is doing okay.

Keep on praying.

I just deleted my first whole post.

That was such a relief.

The end.

Stupid moves:

The girl next door is using our toilet even though it is quite obviously not working correctly. I'm not here when it overflows.

Never flirt with a girl and tell her you are going to come hang out, then change your mind because your other love interest is coming over to "watch a movie." Better yet, even if you do commit this stupid move, don't tell the girl the REAL reason you're not coming over. Learn to lie.

Don't sit in your car making out with your boyfriend across from a house full of my relatives. Poor neighbor girl. Every person in my house had to stare out the window to see why there was a car parked across the street.

Don't be late to class. (Oops.)