The Most Wonderful Time of the Year Was NOT Meant to Include School

Can I just say that since returning from North Carolina I am already in vacation mode. I can't focus on school, I just don't care anymore. The last two days I have done about the equivalent of NOTHING academic. On Monday I blew off all of the reading I needed to do so Chad and I could go buy our Christmas tree and decorate it together. (This was pretty much the BEST night ever by the way! We had SOOOOOO much fun!) This may seem horrible, but I don't even feel a smidgen of guilt over this. I think it was completely worth it! Last night I cleaned our apartment and decorated instead of starting one of the 4 papers I have to write by next week...What is wrong with me? Why am I such a terrible student all of a sudden? By the time I get off work all I want to do is curl up on the couch in pajamas, sip at a steaming mug of hot cocoa, listen to Christmas carols, and gaze at our Christmas tree. For the parents reading this, do not fear- I will get back on the ball I promise. But for now I feel justified in wanting to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year, without the interruption of professor's expectations.

O' Christmas Tree

The most gorgeous Christmas tree ever that now graces our apartment! We love him =-)

Slightly Disgruntled

So this morning I woke up with one of the worst headaches I've had in awhile. I don't know if it was just because I woke up to straight pain that made it awful, but it was horrible. I found it nearly impossible to drag myself out of bed to go to my first class. I seriously contemplated skipping- but then I remembered I have to miss this class twice next week while we are in North Carolina and decided I'd better go. I finally managed to coax myself from the warmth of the covers in order to dart to the kitchen. I downed a glass of milk, took a few IB-profen, got semi-ready for the day and Chadwick drove me to school. Now remember, I didn't want to go to this class. It took every ounce of my will power just to get out of bed. Well don't worry, I got there and the professor didn't bother to show up! I was SOOOOOOOO mad! I could have slept for an extra hour, or worked on the enormous outline for my research paper that has to be done by tomorrow. At the very least my poor head would have had some extra time to heal. I don't know, it just really irks me that he didn't even bother to send out an e-mail to apologize for not coming. I'm the reason the man has a SALARY for goodness sakes. UGH- and as if I am not jeopardizing my grade in every other class I'm taking, let alone my sanity, by focusing every spare hour on research for a final paper for HIS class. So rude. I was extremely upset by this. Plus, I know he'll have to cram everything he didn't talk about today into Monday and Tuesday's classes, which I'll miss...soooooooooooo frustrating.

Loyalty to What?

I am getting my hair colored and cut on Saturday afternoon. (I don't think you can possibly fathom how joyous I feel while contemplating this simple fact!) I am going to a hair salon in Bountiful on Saturday because we are flying to North Carolina for my sister-in-law's wedding the next day and I want to look presentable for all the photos. My hair has not been "done" since July so it is quite ready for assistance by a professional. There is something about getting your hair done that makes the world seem like a better place. I know it's superficial but it's true. Maybe I'm insane but I can guarantee that once my hair is cut I will feel better and my stress about school will even decrease- going to a salon does miraculous things.

The salon I'm going to is the same salon I have been going to for over a year...As I consider this it raises some questions about my loyalties. I am not "friends" with my stylist. I like her, I think she is a very nice person, and I think she does an excellent job cutting my hair, but I'm sure someone in Provo could do the deed just as decently. Why do I feel compelled to wait until I go to Bountiful to get my haircut? My hair has been driving me insane for the last month...what has stopped me from going to a random place here and having my roots put out of their misery? It's not as if this decision would hurt my stylist's feelings, and I'm sure she wouldn't miss a client who only gets her hair done every 3 to 4 months...Why do I feel so completely loyal to her? I find this very amusing because I don't think I'm the only woman who struggles with this.

It's as if there's an unwritten rule: don't cross the hair-stylist you love. It is the ultimate betrayal with ultimate consequences. Let's face it: a hair style can make you or break you. I've had experiences on both ends of the spectrum. Trying someone "new" can ruin you. Sure hair always grows back but that takes TIME, and until the time passes to fix things you can be left with a miserable mop that destroys your self-esteem.

This will be the last time I see my stylist in Bountiful because it is completely ridiculous to keep getting my hair done there. I can no longer justify the expense, nor the preposterous nature of making excuses to drive for an hour to have a trim. I know this is the right decision, but why do I feel a sense of separation anxiety over this? I'm really not a high maintenance girl, but the thought of going to a stranger to cut my hair in a month scares me! Sometimes I am so ridiculous...Oh well, at least I can admit I have a problem.

The Umbrella Conspiracy

Over the last year I have developed some serious issues with umbrellas. I can't seem to keep one, particularly one that works. The series of unfortunate incidents with umbrellas is so intense that I figure there has to be a greater force dictating my misfortune. Someone/something has decided to ruin my chances of ever having a normal relationship with an umbrella again.

The first umbrella tragedy occurred while living in London last fall. The family I worked for prior to my departure for the fabulous city gave me some very nice gifts to use while on my trip. One of these gifts was a titanium umbrella from R.E.I. This umbrella was not your average $5 find from Wally-World, this thing seemed capable of becoming the most fantastic umbrella I would ever own. It's tag boasted of being able to endure a million-mile-an hour winds (ok, so maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get my drift- it was nice) If someone had not bought it for me I would never have purchased it for myself, it was a pricey little number, but a very thoughtful gift (especially since I was headed for a rainy city). Unfortunately this umbrella proved less strong then my dear friend Stephanie's when we re-enacted a scene from "The Princess Bride" while visiting the castle where it was filmed. My umbrella did not survive the battle, and I was left umbrella-less on a most rainy day.

Soon after I purchased another umbrella to take on a weekend trip to Paris. It was expected to rain a great deal and I wanted to be prepared. I didn't test the umbrella before the trip, why should I? I figured an umbrella that was costing me nearly 30 American dollars ought to do the trick. It should work! It should shelter me from the rain! At the first sight of rain in Paris I pulled out my trusty umbrella, only to discover it didn't work, and it was not going to shelter me from the rain unless I held the latch in place the entire trip (which I was forced to do). Once again, the umbrella had deceived me.

My return to Provo has only re-emphasized my victim status in the umbrella conspiracy. After getting stuck in a down pour on campus I purchased another umbrella and have been carrying it in my backpack every day in order to avoid another catastrophe. This umbrella works, I tested it. Well, during a recent Provo rainy spell I could not find my umbrella ANYWHERE. I looked in my bag, I looked under the bed, I looked in all our drawers, I looked in the closet that hosts every other item in our apartment that can't find a home anywhere else- THE UMBRELLA WAS NO WHERE TO BE FOUND!!! In my moment of crisis the umbrella had abandoned me. I was devastated. I had tried to get the best of the umbrella by carting it everywhere, but the umbrella had still, ultimately, got the best of me. I was practically in tears as I marched to the bus stop in the rain- I had tried so hard, but it was to no avail, the umbrella would have the last laugh.

I decided I must have lost the umbrella somewhere on campus...well, much to my dismay I discovered my umbrella yesterday evening- in the BOTTOM of my backpack. I was horrified and embarrassed. I guess it was there all along...or was it? I still vote I am the victim here. The victim of the umbrella conspiracy.

Did you know an elephant can put out a fire?

Well, apparently it can. I discovered this in the nursery on Sunday where my husband and I spend 2 hours trying to maintain a decent level of peace among the most adorable little hooligans around. The sweetest little blonde girl was incredibly worried that there was a fire in the playhouse (there is a picture of a fireplace on the wall). She was running around announcing to everyone, "THERE'S A FIRE IN THERE!!!!!!!!!" After trying to convince her it was ok for awhile, Chad finally told her, "you'd better put it out" and with the assitance of about 4 other children and a toy elephant's trunk (I don't know if he was meant to be spraying water to assist in this process or just a sacrificial object) they finally managed to control the flames.

Our experiences in the nursery have proven to be quite enlightening. For example, did you know it is perfectly possible for a one year old child to scream at the top of his longs for 2 hours straight, with only a five minute rest the entire time? And even though it looks like he has finally given up, do not let this deceive you- as soon as he catches a glimpse of the door and recognizes this as the portal that can lead his little toddler legs to his mommy and daddy he will start to scream again. Did you also know that little boys must be born knowing how to play the flirting game? I watched this little boy repeatedly push the most adorable little girl over because he knew she would be upset and I would make him give her a hug and tell her sorry. (You should have seen the grin spread over his face with each hug- this kid knows what he's about). Even though none of them are over 3 they are sooooooooo incredibly smart! I love them all so much, they are so adorable. It is so fun watching their little-people-ways and wondering what they will all be like when they grow up. Will Bubba still be a ladies man? Who knows- Will some of them still suffer separation anxiety? We can only hope not- But for now it's a joy to watch them becoming who they eventually will be.

My Increasingly Chaotic Life...

Some of you may have noticed I have not written a blog in awhile...I am sorry, but it has been pretty much impossible to find a few spare moments to provide an update on the craziness that I call my life. 2 nights ago I had a nervous breakdown. It went something like this: Chad came home from school and I proceeded to vent for the next 15 minutes about everything that has been piling up for the last couple of weeks and that isn't going to stop for the remainder of the semester. 1) I have a research paper coming up that I could find NO sources for because everyone and their dog has decided to read up on Victorian Britain and check out every available book on Victorian marriage, sexuality, and gender roles from the BYU library. 2) I feel ugly because my roots are so horrible, and my hair needs trimmed so badly that even when I style it there is no point- there is no style left 3) If I start reading now and don't stop until December (even if I cut out meal times, work, and classes) I will not be caught up by the end of the semester 4) My eyelashes are falling out because I ran out of eyemake-up remover and have been putting mascara on eyelashes that have never really become clean after mere face wash and water 5) None of my jeans fit anymore, after one wear they are falling off my body. The ones that do semi-fit are a dangerous battle of trying to cover the forming holes and dislocated belt-loops. 6) I have no clean clothes, and the ones that are clean are so wrinkled I will have to find some time to iron them before I can actually wear them thanks to the Branbury laundry facilities. 7) I am TIRED, and I am crying because my favorite time of the month is here- which equals an added stress of cramps and a hurting back. 8) My feet SMELL funny because my favorite flip-flops have had to trudge through the rain and following drying have never been the same. 9) Everyone who comes to Meredith's bridal shower is going to think I am the worst person ever, because I didn't send her invitations out early enough, and our house won't be clean, and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH the list went on and on while Chad held me while I cried and complained (laughing through most of my vivid, overly dramatized descriptions of how miserable life is).

In the end though things got a little better. Laughter is the best medicine so I already felt a little better, plus Chad took me to UVSC where every book my little heart needed on Victorian England was still present, solving problem 1. We also swung by the mall so I could pickup eyemake-up remover, in hopes of future eyelash-loss prevention, and I am going to get my hair done before Meredith's wedding which is only a couple of weeks away. The clothes are still dirty, but hey- I wore a skirt today and lived, and by tomorrow evening every guest at Meredith's bridal shower will be dazzled with our apartment's "spic-and-span-ness" if it kills me. So there you go, despite all the chaos I am smiling. By some miracle I am going to make it through the next couple of weeks, and it better be with A's after all my professors are causing me to suffer. If not, I guess I will just drown my sorrows in some of Meredith's wedding cake, grin, and bare it.