Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Now the first of December was covered with snow, and so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston...

Photos via Flickr and DesignSponge and Casey.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to ditch all the hoopla and wrapping paper and head to Norway or Capri or Cuba (...soon enough) for Christmas. I'm all for simplicity.

But then I start to feel that warm, tingly holiday spirit.

It all started when I saw my favorite Christmas song performed live: Bruce Springsteen's version of Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, complete with deep throated, reverberating voice projecting immeasurable jolliness.
Or maybe it started sooner than that, when my boyfriend inexplicably had Christmas Wrappings, by The Waitresses playing in his car: the exact song my sisters and I had spent close to an entire lifetime searching for after hearing it as the faint background music in a Gilmore Girls episode and mistakenly believing it was by The Bangles. Truly a Christmas miracle.
Or maybe it was that redemptive final home victory for the Sooners.

Anyway, scattered thoughts to keep in mind in the weeks ahead:

I want to put genuine, personalized thought into my gift-giving.

However, my own "what-i-want-for-Christmas-list" is looking a bit uninspired at an age where you either pretty much buy what you want yourself or you want something too expensive to be put into consideration:
  • dress pants for work.
  • polaroid film (...if you can find it).
  • a replacement blackberry.
...is it ever appropriate to just ask for cold, hard cash from your relatives?

I want to read a little bit of The Prophet every night this month. I always have the best intentions to do so, but it's gathering dust on my night stand.

I had a brief anxiety attack the other day while standing in line at the downtown Quiznos with a bunch of dowdy women with disinterested, bland faces, imagining the countless, repetitive jobs they hold that are required on every floor of every building in the entire world.
I know this is extremely judgemental of me - and my saint of a sister Meg (can't wait for her to come home!) would totally call me out on it. I am too judgemental. These women are complete strangers to me, and for all I know they lead important, meaningful lives: wonderful mothers, cut-throat attorneys, tireless volunteers, world travelers, knitting champions, CEOs, etc.
And if I've learned anything in the span of college, it's not to judge other people's life choices as good or bad, right or wrong, black or white. Somehow, it all turns out right.
But I did realize that, for me personally, doing a job to just make a living and get by may be my very worst fear.
You know how you reflect on the past and laugh or become deeply embarrassed or homesick, etc. Well, my reaction every time is: Man, I really really didn't need to worry so much. Seriously, every time.
Learn from that.
...and a vow not to indulge in quarter-life crises and self-pity. Waste of precious time.

Fun, festive party clothes.

So many better options over Elf: It's A Wonderful Life. Nightmare Before Christmas. Christmas Story.

Decision to, finally, put my money where my mouth is.


I love it when all of the end of the year lists come out - just another excuse to buy more magazines. Look for my own version here soon.

Citrus in season. Helllllo blood oranges!

How good the suns are without Shaq! Told you so.

Continually count yrrrrrr blessings.

Set the Fire to the Third Bar, Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright
Creeping In, Norah Jones and Dolly Parton
Sweet Baby James, James Taylor

Blessed is the season that engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.
- Hamilton Wright Mabie.

It is good to be a child sometimes, and never more than at Christmas, when its mighty founder was a child Himself.
- Charles Dickens.