T-Minus 22
Ah, Christmas time..
A season of Gift Giving, Family, Friends, Snow (in some areas), and endless Christmas tunes backed end to end over and over for thirty days.
At work the ladies in the office love Christmas. I don't have a problem with that. What I do find as something that constantly grates on my nerves for every day between Thanksgiving and Christmas is the endless Christmas tunes that are played over and over and over again.
Apparently it is now an actual
law in some areas that any po-dunk singer, backwards band, pop has-been, or hardcore loser is forced to produce their own Christmas CD and force it on the masses.
I've got a newsflash for them:
If we don't like you
before, then
why do you think that we're going to like you belching out old tired holiday tunes at the top of your lungs?
Take Mariah Carey for instance. Today I actually started to froth at the mouth when that song "All I Want For Christmas Is You" came on the radio
again. Today, I actually counted. In between 9am and 5pm, That song played SEVEN TIMES.
Seven Times?!?
Anyway, Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas.
I just wish that we could listen to something besides Christmas music.
Well...in any case. It's T-Minus 22 days until we're restored to listening to the dulcid tones of Michael Bolton, Elton John, and last, but not least...Prince.
Sometimes I think Helen Keller was lucky.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree?
Today as I eagerly waded through my interactive dvd work, I thought about the upcoming (and past) holidays. As I internally debated the merits of buying my sister a fifty pack of Smurf car air fresheners this year for Christmas, I suddenly slammed headlong into a thought.
After I backed my train of thought up, the thing that I had tripped over became clear. It's one of those nagging questions that you have in the back of your mind, yet it never materializes into a question. But it has in mine, so I'm going to ask it.
Each year, to celebrate someone's birthday, were you aware that we travel out to our backyards, our nearby forests, our local tree lot, or, for the desensitized bloke in all of us, climb into our attic for that one thing that makes the season.
I'm talking about a Christmas tree.
Were you aware that to celebrate someone's birthday (some of us don't even know him, but we like his birthday anyway), we chop down a tree, wrap electric string with lights around it (a potential fire hazard), hang odd objects off of it, tacky garland, or, for some of us, strands of edible popcorn -
all for someone's birtday?
What is the purpose of this? I understand the underlying idea behind gift giving - God knows that I really do love to give more than I like to recieve, but why the tree? What does that have to do with someone's birthday?
If someone finds out, let me know. But seeing as we do it for one birthday, I'm mandating that on my birthday we make it customary to mount a watermellon onto three two-by-fours.
Then my birthday can be the season of "The Watermellon TeePee".
Missing Out
Today I recieved a rather interesting email from someone who's apparently been reading my blog every day. She's never posted, but has noticed the seemingly - in her words - "serious lapse in blogging".
I've always been one to take these thoughts to heart, and have indeed realized that my days of posting two, sometimes three, posts a day have fallen by the wayside through no fault of my own.
Well, maybe a little fault of my own.
Strangely, this reader seems to not be the only one that has emailed me questioning my future blogging motives. The consensus among each of these (there are four) emails is a simple question - worded so elegently by one of my emailers - "Dude...are you dead? When are you going to blog like your normal self again??" So, in deference to this question, I've decided to actually tell you what's been going on in my life. Life seems to have caught up with me again. I travel an hour and a half north every Sunday/Saturday night to meet up with a family that I go to church with. I now have a supplementary job - to my normal full time job - of renting digital entertainment to the masses who crave everything from Macullay Culkin tossing paintcans over railings at bad guys to other guests who are looking for nothing more than a mysterious phonecall by someone that knows everything you're doing and wearing right then.
For those of you who are right now scratching your heads, I work at Blockbuster Video on nights and weekends.
It's actually not that bad.
Anyway -
When I'm not at my real job building advertisements, making websites, and interactive DVD's, or when I'm not at Blockbuster, OR at my parent's house putting my apparel through the washing machine, I'm here. At my apartment. Every night.
Playing Halo 2 online.
One of these days I'll get tired of it. But so far I'm not getting tired of it.
Except right now, when I'm tired period.
But I must be off to bed. It's raining outside my window, and, if all of my readers
have actually been reading my blog, you know one thing about me.
I love to sleep when it's raining.
