mariness

Technically, this is the second day of Christmas, making this little story still relevant: Pipers Piping, about getting a little too much into a certain holiday song.

Enjoy!

I have just discovered that the only short sleeved green shirt I own is currently in a condition that will make no one happy if I wear it (yes, yes, I have plans to do laundry soon, I promise). Does having eyes that can be either hazel or green or blue, depending on the light, count?

So to do what little I can to honor the day:



Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Ok, I know most of you are probably feeling the holiday music fatigue already, but you have to trust me: this is an excellent rendition of "Carol of the Bells":



H/t Jennifer Brozek.

Santa Claus is terrorizing us again.

It's not Santa so much, it's that he comes with a fire truck and two cop cars all blasting their sirens and honking their horns at startled cars and bicyclists. Plus, his sleigh smokes, which sends everyone out assuming it's a fire only to be greeted by smoke, sirens and Jingle Bell Rock.

We waved. He ho ho hoed.

The next door kids were delighted. I'm off to get a drink, since I'm going to be hearing these sirens for several more minutes. (Santa terrorizes VERY SLOWLY.)

Happy New Year to all. It is time, I think, to reveal my resolution for the year to all of you:

Eat chocolate.

I know, I know. But I'll be keeping my resolution.

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It's no secret that I love fireworks. Love them.

And I've always wanted to set off little fireworks of my own.

(Er, in the real, not metaphoric sense.)

Alas, much of my life, I have either lived in places where individual purchase and lighting of fireworks is outright illegal, or, severely disapproved of in the apartment complexes where I lived.

But last night, we were able to head out to the driveway to set off little fireworks of our own, under the concerned eye of the Winter Garden Fire Department, which was making slow and nervous rounds throughout our neighborhood. What I hadn't anticipated – although this, along with the unusually dry weather, which explained the Fire Department – was just how many of our neighbors would be joining in – nearly every single house on this street and the two next to it. Frankly, not shooting things off would have seemed, well, unneighborly.

We set off a few fireworks, then headed back in for games (because, honestly, more years should end by facing Cthulhu), turning on the TV to warn us when the New Year approached. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of having CBS on in the background, paying so little attention that we entirely failed to notice that CBS was running—not kidding –a re-run of David Letterman. They didn't even have the guts to run live coverage, so we totally missed the countdown.

Luckily, the booming sounds of Disney and the neighbors made up for this, so we weren't exactly able to ignore the incoming 2011 for very long. We flipped stations and then popped out to shoot off more fireworks. The street was filled with people making things go bang bang bang.

(I say "we" but in actual fact I just stayed back and watched things go up and bang. I'm notoriously abysmal with getting lighters to turn on and not particularly fast at moving backwards as fuses as sizzling. But it almost counted!)

It was not until after midnight that I remembered I also had a bottle of Rosa Regale (a rose champagne) in the fridge for a moment just like this (we'd been drinking Gluwine and eyeing the bottle of Chocolate Wine, which I actually haven't dared try out yet.) We decided to let it go. The city bangs lasted quite some time – until 3 am – and the Grey One, who does not approve of this sort of thing at all, is still not talking to any of us.

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On a totally different note, but before I continue to forget to blog about it: I am not at all surprised that Stargate: Universe was cancelled – ratings were not good, and although the show certainly improved in its second season, this was largely because it had nowhere to go but up. Cancellation was pretty much inevitable.

So yeah, not surprised, and filled with doubt that this is really and truly the ultimate end of the Stargate franchise – someone, somewhere will resurrect it again. But I will say that whatever the feelings about the cancellation, letting your cast and crew (including John Scalzi, who really doesn't deserve this sort of thing) find out that they've been fired through Twitter seriously sucks.

So, yeah, it's the last day of the year. The day when all Good Bloggers try to sum up the year while contemplating the later food and champagne. In this case, amplified by the apparent need to sum up an entire decade.

Er, the year first.

The year, not surprisingly, started with me yelling at Cigna (my "health insurance" company), and even less surprisingly, ended with me yelling at Cigna ("Cigna! Raising the blood pressure of our clients, one member at a time!"). One of my chief goals for 2010 is "to spend less time arguing with Cigna," a resolution which will be made easier by the fact that I am not going to be covered by them anymore. (Such a statement, of course, implies that they were, indeed, COVERING ME in the first place.)

Between these Cigna moments were many other things that sparked up what I had assumed would be a rather dull year into an unexpectedly dramatic one. I survived getting hit by a large truck. The trike was then stolen, leading to an exciting cop chase during which trained cops estimated that I am in my early 20s, followed by a considerably less exciting day in juvenile court during which trained attorneys estimated my age more correctly and more legal wrangling, resulting in his incarceration until 2014, not so much because of the trike but because of a long string of other charges. My kinder side (yes, I have one; I just don't use it that much) is hoping that he gets the therapy and help he needs.

And many of you, at the beginning of this year, assured me that riding a trike would be dull.

The year had more to it than this, of course. It had shuttle launches; the occasional concert/outing; some rather good movies (Up, Star Trek, and to my genuine surprise, Inglorious Basterds, the only Quentin Tarentino movie I have enjoyed); some utterly dreadful movies (GI Joe, Ninja Assassin); bonding with friends; silliness; zebras; unexpected ostriches and peacocks; Leverage, Lost; not putting stickers on the cane; books, more books; various publications but not enough actual writing, which deserves but probably won't get its own post since focusing on my own failures (and this is a bad one – I did not make any of my not particularly ambitious writing goals) is pretty painful; far too much information about the sex lives of famous athletes; far more music; sudden moments of dazzling insight; accepting the damn wheelchair; feeling the planet shift and move; fatigue; doctors; fuzzy blankets; excellent conversations; painful conversations; and some of those moments that you hold deep in your soul, to ponder over, to treasure in the dark hours of the night, or the worst hours of the day, when you remember to remember them.

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All this said, since August, my life has been held in an odd limbo, where various things that were supposed to happen, were planned to happen, in the fall, could not happen.

And I'm still there, waiting.

That waiting makes it intensely difficult to summarize this year as good or bad; it's a year of holding. And I'm simply not used to holding. I've certainly had worse years (one reason I'm not jumping on the summarize the decade bandwagon is that would require revisiting 2006, a year that seriously needs to be forgotten). I've certainly had better years. But rarely has it been so difficult to say where I was in the beginning, and where I am now, although if the past five years have taught me anything, it is that life – at least, my life – is not going to be travelling a predictable, planned path, perhaps interspersed by these holding moments.

So I'm not going to make any predictions for 2010. Except to say that I suspect chocolate will be involved somewhere. Because isn't it always?

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All of which is to say that my best summary of the year is still probably this, which in the end, was also my favorite publication of the year. I easily could have just posted that again, and left all of this out. But then we couldn't have revisited the cop chase. Hmm.

From funkyturtle, a shocking story of how innocent, helpless Christmas lights are getting eaten by squirrels.

I can think of no better way to wish you all a merry and joyous holiday!

Well, ok, yes, I probably could. In the meantime, I will remind the less squirrelly among you that should you get a craving for lights, cookies make a great substitute.

'Tis both Rosh Hashanah and Talk Like A Pirate Day! Ahoy vey! Shiver up ye timbers and celebrate this fine holiday. With a bit of rum, if ye be so inclined.