Well, this blog seemed to have quite a few more entries when I had a million things to do. Now that I have endless free time (well this endless time is normally cut short by this strange thing called a clock, for some reason it deems it necessary to reach 23:59 and then start all over again) I seem to have no time to find anything mildly interesting or witty to say. Well moving on from my depressing, deranged and oh so lost life, on to my depressing, deranged, and oh so lost holidays! I went back to my homeland yet another nerve-racking, stress-filled, simply joyful family holiday. It took me about 2 minutes in the Lisbon airport before I was wondering why I had decided to take on such a task, especially without any morphine to numb the pain. Yet on to the point of this rant: the lack of white stuff falling from the sky. What I was most disappointed in was not receiving a visit from my friend Mr. Snow. What is Christmas without snow??? The song does go “I’m dreamin’ of a white Christmas,” so where was the white? Does snow now also take a vacation? I want those great Christmases when it was nice and chilly, which did not keep me from having my frozen nose against the window, waiting to see Santa’s sleigh, only breaking contact for that quick run to the fireplace to find a moment of warmth. When everyone stayed awake and actually opened gifts at midnight and was joyful through it all. Instead Christmas entailed a quick dinner, after which some went to sleep, others played computer games and the rest watched bad tv. So at about 10:30, tired of waiting, my father pronounced it time to open gifts. If I had been allowed that privilege when I was younger I would have been ecstatic, 90 minutes less of torturous anxiety over what the boxes contained, BLISS!!! Now, I was simply irritated. Beyond the fact that the amount of actual surprises under the tree were minimal, the whole happy gift opening tradition was washed away. Ahhh if only I could regress to the days when Santa was real, parents actually went to the trouble of buying you great gifts and midnight was the restlessly awaited time! Yet, everything would have been better, if I could have looked out the window and caught a glimpse of a wonderful flurry of snowflakes descending from the heavens. Oh well, maybe next year…
Saturday, January 20, 2007
White Christmas, what is that???
Well, this blog seemed to have quite a few more entries when I had a million things to do. Now that I have endless free time (well this endless time is normally cut short by this strange thing called a clock, for some reason it deems it necessary to reach 23:59 and then start all over again) I seem to have no time to find anything mildly interesting or witty to say. Well moving on from my depressing, deranged and oh so lost life, on to my depressing, deranged, and oh so lost holidays! I went back to my homeland yet another nerve-racking, stress-filled, simply joyful family holiday. It took me about 2 minutes in the Lisbon airport before I was wondering why I had decided to take on such a task, especially without any morphine to numb the pain. Yet on to the point of this rant: the lack of white stuff falling from the sky. What I was most disappointed in was not receiving a visit from my friend Mr. Snow. What is Christmas without snow??? The song does go “I’m dreamin’ of a white Christmas,” so where was the white? Does snow now also take a vacation? I want those great Christmases when it was nice and chilly, which did not keep me from having my frozen nose against the window, waiting to see Santa’s sleigh, only breaking contact for that quick run to the fireplace to find a moment of warmth. When everyone stayed awake and actually opened gifts at midnight and was joyful through it all. Instead Christmas entailed a quick dinner, after which some went to sleep, others played computer games and the rest watched bad tv. So at about 10:30, tired of waiting, my father pronounced it time to open gifts. If I had been allowed that privilege when I was younger I would have been ecstatic, 90 minutes less of torturous anxiety over what the boxes contained, BLISS!!! Now, I was simply irritated. Beyond the fact that the amount of actual surprises under the tree were minimal, the whole happy gift opening tradition was washed away. Ahhh if only I could regress to the days when Santa was real, parents actually went to the trouble of buying you great gifts and midnight was the restlessly awaited time! Yet, everything would have been better, if I could have looked out the window and caught a glimpse of a wonderful flurry of snowflakes descending from the heavens. Oh well, maybe next year…
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People should read this.
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