It's the mood, moodiest time of the year...

I love Christmas. Really, I do. It's easily my favorite time of year, (also because I get incredibly spoiled, as it's also my birthday month,) and I love the goodwill and cheer that oozes out of people about mid-December and lingers until sometime in the first week of January.

Personally, though, this season moves and excites me - and in the process, it turns me into a crazy, crying, laughing, moody girl. One moment I can laughing out loud for sheer joy in a parking lot of all places - all of twelve hours later I am in tears for my commute.

I think my poor little self wasn't built for such highs and lows of emotion, and so every now and then breaks down into either maniacal giggles or despairing sighs and tears. Although it seems like the type of problem that dutiful dads, brothers, boyfriends and guy friends leave strictly to the girls to handle, I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a reason for this emotional roller-coaster called Christmastide; as illogical and confusing as it may seem.

The crux is: I'm too finite. The highs of a season built around a concept that I am immeasurably loved by Almighty God, combined with the human lows of overdue bills and holiday traffic collide in a horrifying collapse of mixed emotions. The Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men that blares through my CD player, the love involved in buying the "perfect" gift and the fully-operational mistletoe that hangs from my ceiling make me long to laugh for the pure beauty of it. The flip side of this beauty - the frustration of not enough time, money or energy to celebrate something that should not be a chore but a joy, makes me cry.

I cry not because I'm crazy, even though I feel that way. I cry because I've lost something - we've lost something. Snuggling down with family to watch scratchy re-runs of claymation Christmas cartoons, humming carols in the candlelight, and baking lumpy homemade cookies used to be enough. As children we didn't think about what it cost for the magic - it was just there, leading us into belief and awe with every time-worn step. We drank in the beauty of the season without feeling foolish or analyzing the truth that it is a man-made tradition or just a time of year - we abandoned ourselves to it wholeheartedly.

So this year, rather than indulge in the crying/laughing craziness that tends to overtake me, I've resolved to try to soak it in. To gaze at lighted trees and crinkly wrapping jobs with the wide-eyed wonder I lost somewhere, and soak up the joy of memory without feeling foolish or wishing for things I can't have.

This Christmas, I want to kiss my moodiness good-bye, and grow up to be a kid.

24

Today, friends and countrymen, I turn 24. I can't really say that I feel older... but 24 definitely sounds older. (You're thinking, "Of course it sounds older than 23, learn to count!" But it really does.) I said that it sounds older to one of my friends who recently turned 30, and she gave me an "oh GOSH, you're KIDDING me, you freaking young thing, go back to the playground," look. And when I told another friend this who turned 24 a few months ago, he called me a jackass, which, although I'm sure it made him feel better, was not very nice. Anyways, I digress.

(Oh, one more thought. 24 also sounds cool because it has to do with Jack Bauer, who makes everything AWESOME.)

At any rate, in honor of being 24, I will now list 24 things that I learned in my 23rd year of life. Glean what wisdom you may.

1. Go backpacking. In the woods.
2. Always shop at Trader Joe's. Your tummy will thank you.
3. Umbrellas are unneccessary. Enjoy the rain - we all know you're not made of sugar.
4. A room of one's own really is important.
5. In-N-Out after midnight is usually NOT a good idea.
6. Hanging out with cool people after midnight, however, always is.
7. Gmail chat is one of the greatest inventions ever.
8. Speaking of Gmail, everything Google does is amazing.
   
9. Write it down! You think you will never forget - but you do. Having those memories in black and white is so comforting.
10. Worry less, live more. (No, I haven't figured this one out yet. I'm a work in progress.)
    
11. To-Do Lists will keep you sane.
12. When all else fails, when you're tired, or any other time of the day or night: go to the beach.
13. Watch the sun set.
14. No matter the span, time with your best friends is time well-spent.
15. It snows in Texas.
16. Guys get together primarily to eat beef and make wisecracks at Monday Night Football. Football is just part of the mix.
17. Hip-hop concerts are a hard sell in Irvine. It's not quite the 'hood.
18. Tyrone Wells. 'Nuff said.
19. The Paint Mare remembers me. I love my horses.
20. The Firecracker Roll at Mosun's is the best Sushi roll ever.
21. Taking PCH from San Fransisco to So. Cal. takes forever. Pretty, though.
22. Double-check your keys before you go into a very old, deserted warehouse - or at the very least, take a cell phone.
23. Sing.
24. Love people.
    

Signing Off

I have a hard time saying good-bye. I'm not much of a crier, but just those two little words are the magic tear-jerkers. I always feel funny saying good-bye, too - like "bye" doesn't quite cut it. Something in my old-fashioned soul swings more towards "Adieu" or "Farewell" - but I always chicken out and say something meaningful like: "See ya."

My idiosyncrasies aside, in my musings about good-byes, I've come up with a few fare-thee-wells worth sharing.

• "Go in God's grace, and have a great day." Ever since I was a little kid, my pastor has dismissed us with this blessing. When I came back to my childhood church some 12 years later, he was still saying it, every Sunday. It makes me ready for ham sandwiches on the beach, lunch with friends and mowing the lawn - in God's grace.
• "Bye, bye." When my Dad hangs up the phone, he says "bye, bye." and hates it. "Why do I say 'bye, bye'?!" He would say. "Who says that?" The next time he hung up, though, out it would pop again: "Bye, bye." I think he finally gave up.
• "LOVE YOU! MISS YOU! BYE!" My roommates and I yell this at each other when getting off the phone. I don't think we ever intended it to be a pattern, but I can't think of a conversation (since we went our separate ways) that hasn't ended this way.
• "loveyoutoobye" This is how I know Adam is getting off the phone with a member of his family. It's a Nichols thing.
• The sigh. Apparently my mom and I both do this when it's time to get off the phone. Just a little "time to go" sigh to prepare you for the knowledge that we're about to leave you and go do something else.
  
• IM Goodbyes. Yeah, I know, it's pretty bad when you have trouble saying good-bye on IM, but I do. Mine usually go like this: Other person: "Ok, gotta go! TTYL!" Me: "Oh, ok, well, tell me (lists several unnecessary items of note)" Other: "Ok, well, yeah. gtg!" Me: "Ok! LOVE YOU MISS YOU BYE BUT WAIT I HAVE IMPORTANT THINGS TO SAY DONT LEAVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It's completely ridiculous, I'm aware.
  
• Flip phones are very satisfying when you hang up. It gives me closure.
• Hugs. I'm a hugger. I'm leaving, I have to drive home in the cold, so you will give me a hug. It's how it works.
• The coolest possible way to answer a phone call is with your last name, especially if it's "Bauer." ("Linthicum" doesn't have quite the same ring to it.) "Yeah." and a purposeful snap shut is the coolest way to sign off. I'm not yet awesome enough to employ either one.
• When you don't know the next time you might see someone, it's always easier to just talk about general things like the weather and real Maple Syrup vs. Aunt Jemima's. This allows us to hold it together until the door closes, at which point we can both lose it out of sight from each other and not feel silly or bad for making the other cry - even though we both know we will. Or maybe I'm the only weepy one and everybody else is debating the maple syrup question for real.
  

Christmas Time is Here, and so are the Surveys

In honor of the fact that it is after Thanksgiving and therefore officially Christmastime, and I am having desperate lack of inspiration, I will now fall back on the procrastinator's/uncreative blogger's closest ally: the email survey, this time with a festive twist. Enjoy.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Depends on what I'm giving and in how big of a hurry I am. Also, I would like to point out that non-traditional wrapping styles (i.e. paper grocery sacks, re-used shirt boxes and even bath towels, can be used in a pinch with great success. It's been done. That's all I can say.)

2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial trees are dead to me. Haha.

3. When do you put up the tree? As soon as humanly possible. I love decorating for Christmas, plus, then I get the Woods inside my house, which is a huge bonus.

4. When do you take the tree down? I dunno. Sometime after New Year's, when the bells stop ringing and the children aren't singing and the world is grey again.

5. Do you like eggnog? I like it in my coffee instead of creamer. So delicious and fattening. Perfect for Christmastime.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? I remember getting My Little Ponies, which was pretty exciting. I also got Samantha one year, complete with a trunk to keep her in, thanks to a woodworking Dad.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? My mom and dad have a Precious Moments one that's really cute. I'm beginning to feel that the Bower needs one of it's own, though.

8. Hardest person to buy for? My Dad, hands down. I'm a pretty good shopper, though, and an intense listener around holidays and birthdays, so I dig for hints and usually come out somewhat close to the mark.

9. Easiest person to buy for? Probably my mom. There always seems to be something perfect for her readily available.

10. Worst Christmas gift ever received? I think I was 16 when my grandma gave me the last baby doll I hope I ever receive. I think it smelled funny, too.

11. Mail or email Christmas card? Snail mail, all the way. I love opening letters, and I figure everybody else does, too. Mom and Dad were dependent on me to write their Christmas letter too, up until last year, and I have a feeling I'm going to get drafted for Linthicum Family News Update Duty again soon.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? It's a Wonderful Life, far and away. Elf also makes me laugh and think of House 9 Christmas, and of course I love the creepy claymation Rudolph.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Sooner than I probably should.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Yes. Everybody does. Don't look at me like that.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Wow. That's like asking a Valley Girl to name her favorite store at the mall. Or boy at the mall. Or shirt at the mall. Or... anyways. Right off, I love Pumpkin Pie, Christmas sugar cookies, my Mom's coffee cake, sweet breads, and ham and scalloped potatoes for dinner. Gosh I like food. Gosh I'm hungry.

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I like colors. Mo' color, mo' betta.

17. Favorite Christmas song? O Come O Come Emmanuel is my favorite hymn. Mary, Did You Know? is quickly climbing the charts, though.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? I travel to go home. Makes sense.

19. Can you name Santa's reindeer? When I read this, I thought, "No, because they're already named. I may think Blitzen is a dumb name, but who am I to mess with tradition?" I realize now what it really means, but my original thought is funnier.

20. Do you have an Angel on top or a star? I grew up with an angel up there. At House 9 we had a rather ramshackle foil star. I like it either way.

21. Annoying thing about this time of year? That I can't actually afford to buy all the gifts I would like to. Boo budgets.

Yummy Texas

I'm in Texas for the week of Thanksgiving. Last Saturday we loaded Bonnie with suitcases, golf clubs and dreams of queso and bbq, and headed East. 21 hours, several Starbucks stops, 5 tanks of gas and a few crazy jokes later, we landed in Fort Worth.

It's been terrific. Adam's family is terrific, my friends (Val and Megan!) are terrific, the weather is terrific, the food, of course, is terrific.

And that's what I'm here to talk about. Texas Food.

Texas Food is unlike anywhere else in the world. It's massive, delicious, and filled with beef. No, seriously. I haven't eaten so much beef and cheese since... well, since I left Texas. Texans are not as concerned with quality as they are with quantity... if there's a block of gourmet cheese at Tom Thumb or a tub of kind-of gourmet cheese at Wal-Mart, Wally always wins.

Texas Food is also all about being big. The drinks are veritable water towers of Dr Pepper - which is awesome for me, because I practically need an IV of Diet Coke just to maintain daily sanity. Route 44's are my best friend. :) Also, the burgers are huge, the fries are huge, the LouAnn platter at Luby's is for sissies, and the queso is so cheesy awesome good that I think I might need to go eat some. Right. Now.

I've been temporarily distracted by... anything.

I can be a rather staid person, sometimes to the point of being so responsible that I forget to have fun. (You're thinking: we know you're no fun, and now you're Captain Obvious. Wow, Dani, this is really boring. If I wasn't stuck at work, I'd leave this awful blog and never come back... Well, fine then. Nobody is making you stay. Shoo. You and your mean thoughts. Anyways.)

Lately, though, I am completely distracted at the slightest provocation. Actually, the above paragraph is a perfect example. I started out telling you that I'm very grown-up and responsible, and ended with a snarky conversation between myself and my reader's imaginary thoughts. This imagination thing takes distraction to a whole new level.

Because of my complete inability to hold one thought for longer then a minute at a time, (My hands smell funny. Is that the keyboard smell? Wait, blog? Ummm, yes.) Anyway, because of the short-attention-span that is plaguing my life lately, today's post is in bulleted points of whatever random thoughts fly into my head. Enter at your own risk. (Mmmm. Blueberry muffin. This is definitely blueberry muffin weather. I wonder if Starbucks still has those lowfat-but-not-really ones? That sounds so good right now.)

Oh yeah. Blogging. First Bullet. GO.

• It's blueberry muffin weather.
• "Blueberry muffin weather" is when it's the perfect blend of stormy and fall-ish and we all (my family) hung out cooking (and eating) eggs and muffins until late morning, at which point we all just wanted to go back to bed thanks to our distended tummies, but instead would foolishly go chop firewood or something.
• Christmastime is here! Well, not really. But the mall and Starbucks are sellin' the Corporate Christmas Scene and I'm buyin'. I can't help myself. Something about the red ribbons, twinkle lights and eggnog just makes me happy...
• Naps are amazing. I've taken to getting home around 4:30 and crashing for at least an hour before my nightly activities begin. It's one of the best things about my entire day. Which is actually a little sad when you think about it...
• I need to work out more. Lately naps have had priority over sweat, so my fat has had priority over my muscles. Yuck.
  
• Speaking of working out, I work on the 6th floor of my office building, and can often be found running up and down the stairs following particularly aggravating projects - it doesn't work so well in heels, though. Frustration management and traditional business wear don't mix. I almost tumbled to my death last week.
• Hence, today I am taking advantage of the fact that it's Friday, and am in baggy pants and sneaks. I've already run the stairs twice and it's only 10 a.m.
• Friday. Just the name brings a smile to my face and a sparkle to my eye.
• I have to work this weekend though. Boo that.
• Diet Coke doesn't have the polar bears on their Christmas cans anymore, and this is very sad. They've replaced caffeine-addicted fuzzy characters with generic holiday-ish patterns and I am not a fan. Way to lose your edge, Diet Coke. At least Original Coca-Cola stayed true to Saint Nick.
• I got involved in an interesting discussion of facial hair last night. OK, so I wasn't really involved per se - I didn't have a whole lot to add as far as my facial hair growth patterns - but I was fascinated. How do bristles just sprout out of the side of your face? All six or so guys standing around had funny stories about shaving too often or with a wild boar tusk or something. That would actually make a great book. "Not by the Hair of My Chinny-Chin-Chin - Manhood, boyhood, the first shave and the quest for beardedness" Nobody steal this - I'm sensing a Bestseller here.
• One of my good friends is having a black and white birthday party tonight. I realized I don't have anything black and white. Nothing. So I bought a white shirt and will get away with pin-striped pants, I hope. If I still lived with Val some serious closet-raiding would be happening tonight.
• I cut my hair. Just cut it all off. Kirsten and I went to dinner the other night and were both complaining about our hair, so we decided to fix it then and there. We went to SuperCuts 'cause we're classy like that, and paid $18 for incredibly smokin' new wigs. Anyway, I cut about 5 inches off all the way around. Shorter in the front, longer in the back - but not a mullet. Just so we're clear.
• White-Out is so fun. I've pretty much mastered the White-Out on Post-It Note art form. Wait, what? I don't know who that girl is. I'm working.
• I bought a table at a garage sale for a buck and then spent $30 on paint and stuff to re-finish it, because that math makes perfect sense. Actually, though, "working in the shop" has been super fun, and I'm really looking forward to getting grubby again this weekend.
• Speaking of the shop, we've transformed Adam's fun garage into a SUPER fun garage, with two kayaks, a mountain bike, fishing gear, body boards and now, woodworking projects. His neighbors love us.
  
• Since the woodworking craze began, I call Adam's garage "The Shop", FYI.
• And, he's building me a chest/home for a very small, very naughty person who needs to be locked up in a box. Actually, I jest. It's gonna be awesome and I can't wait to fill it with stuff and set my hot cocoa on it on a winter evening. We even found the perfect hardware for it.
• I need to go kayaking.
• I need to quit making a random list and get back to work.
  

Commute-a-licious

As I have now joined the proud ranks of road-raging California commuters, I would like to add my horn to the noise. Here are a few tips on driving on the California highways, byways (hat tip to Steven Moore) and side streets and on being a good driver/pedestrian/commuter, or at least not a completely comatose one, as so many apparently are.

The likelihood that anybody who shares the roads with me will ever read this is incredibly slim. I know this. But writing out my woes is cathartic, and you are stuck at work, blog-surfing, and thus a captive audience - so you will read this, no matter how dull the story of my commute may be.

1. It appears to be a law that if there is one large, weighed-down, slow-moving, repair-man-type truck on the road, there will be another, taking up the other lane and slowing everybody down. Repair men of the world, listen to me. WE LOVE YOU. We do. You fix our plugged drains, unrattle our rattling doors, and fearlessly stare down the bad circuitry demons. However, our love fades every time you go 35 in a 55... and especially when you team up to make passing you impossible. We respect that your trucks are big and weighed down and you get paid by the hour. Just let the rest of us by... and our love will remain untarnished.
2. Same goes for moms. I salute you, moms. You guys work hard and have some of the toughest jobs in the universe. However, I also know that when I am behind a mini-van with "Honor-Roll Student" stickers on the bumper and shades in the windows, I am in for a slow drive. Unless, of course, Junior spits up in a big way. In which case we must always be prepared for the quick exit to the nearest parking lot/bathroom/wherever moms go to make do. Not really having much experience with the whole kid scene, I can't really hold a grudge here though. Just... good job, moms. Keep it up, and... well, you could move into the slow lane now and then. If you think about it.
3. Nobody in California waves. EVER. Megan and I perfected the art of "Dallas Driving" (one hand on the steering wheel, one hand waving frantically out the back window at everybody whom you're cutting off as you cross several lanes of traffic for an exit that you should have noticed a lot earlier, but were too busy jamming out to the sweet lovin' sounds of Plus One...) So I wave. I think as I get into somebody's lane and give a cheery wave, they must think "Aw, how quaint. She waved with her whole hand! She must be from the South." This, I assume, makes their day better because they start thinking about Grandma Hazel's Sweet Potato Pie and not the thousands of dollars in debt they racked up last night in South Coast Plaza. At least I hope so. They're probably just wondering what the heck I'm doing.
4. STEREOTYPE ALERT. When someone is driving incredibly poorly, if I finally get up next to them, I always look to see what kind of person has been so blissfully wrecking my morning. 99% of the time they are women, and 80% of the time they are on cell phones - typically very bling-y ones with large jewels stuck in conspicuous places. Girls, girls. Throw woman-kind a bone here. Silence is golden. Or the radio. Or maybe just watching the road instead of discussing your eyeliner application with your girlfriends. Or maybe you could talk about driving, and that would keep you focused. Something has to change, though. Please.
5. Pedestrians. Walking is good for both body and soul. I am completely in support of walking, and think everybody should walk and use cross-walks and all that good stuff. I would also just like to remind the foot-traveling population that crosswalks are kind of a favor on the car-bound people's part. Really. We have agreed that while you're walking in-between the white lines from sidewalk to sidewalk, we will not run you over. However, that does not mean that you can abuse the privilege. The cross-walk is not the place to begin deep discussions, check out your manicure, or drink in the scenery. I join your ranks almost every evening, and I KNOW that the street can be crossed before the light changes. Please endeavor to do so, and we will gladly continue not running you over.
   
6. Honking. Really, guys? Honking is to driving what "How to Save a Life" is to music. Overdone. Overplayed. Worn out. Please stop.
7. When people think they're being sneaky, they're really just being rude. There's a place right by work where you can get onto the 55 going either North or South. The southbound lanes are always clear, Northbound are always packed. So certain sneaky people think they can blaze up the Southbound end until just before it splits, then gracefully merge, with no one the wiser and their own selfish tushes a few hundred yards further down the freeway. It doesn't work. For reals. All that happens is the Southbounders get slowed down and annoyed by the unsuccessful merging attempts, the Northbounders get righteously indignant at "sneakers" lack of courtesy, and everybody is honking and tailgating and nobody is better off... and it happens EVERY DAY. Oh, dumb Californians.
8. If you're a guy and you pull up next to me, this does not mean that the Freeway Gods have ordained that we are destined to be together. It does not mean that I think you're cute. It does not mean that my window is down in order to talk to random guys, including you. It does not mean anything. Go away and learn to not be creepy.
9. If you tailgate me, I want to slam on my brakes. I have not done it yet, but be warned. No bueno.
10. Finally, be NICE. I seriously believe that people get in their cars and assume their mean driving alter ego. Wave. Smile. Take a sip of your $10 latte. Commuters are people too!