I love the Christmas season. I love lights, trees, and finding the perfect gift for people. I've decided to dedicate this blog to the reasons why I love Christmas. I am not going to slap a bunch of disclaimers on my preferences--I simply love to love Christmas.
Christmas lights.
Maybe it's my fixation with shiny things... maybe it's the beautiful way they glow in the evening light... but you'd be hard-pressed to find something I'd rather do than go see Christmas lights in December. I fully intend to be one of those households that out-shines everyone else in the neighborhood, not because I'm trying to be a jerk, but because I love Christmas lights that much. It's hard not to smile when you drive by a house that really put some effort into decorating.
Christmas at Starbucks.
December is the only time of year that I am consistently willing to spend money on fufu coffee. The Peppermint Mocha Latte is Christmas in a cup, and I cannot be sad when I am drinking this coffee. The day before one of my exams this month I decided to get a coffee before diving into an intense afternoon of studying. What actually happened was I took a sip of the coffee and proceeded to put on Christmas music and spend the entire afternoon decorating my apartment. Time well spent? I think so. (I also passed the exam with flying colors, so there's that.)
Christmas music.
From the classic Christmas carols to the new renditions of old favorites, I can't help but love Christmas music. It just makes my heart happy. My favorite is "Carol of the Bells". This is partially because it was a tradition to sing it at our Christmas concert every December in choir and partially because it has so much going on and there are so many versions of it. It's impossible to become bored with that song. (Note: I cannot stand the song "Feliz Navidad". I have no idea why, but it annoys the living daylights out of me... which seems silly because I love Spanish so much.)
Christmas trees.
I'm not sure if its the tree itself or the decorating that I love more, but the finished product is so beautiful I can't help but feel at home when a Christmas tree is in the room. Pulling out the boxes of ornaments and deciding which to put on a tree appeals to the organizational side of me, and the aesthetic appeal of the finished product never fails to light up a room. It's like a 3-D collage of memories. I recently changed my formerly-negative opinion about artificial trees and although I love the smell of evergreen, I like the idea of being able to design everything about a tree right down to where you want the branches. Also, artificial trees come with lights. Win.
Christmas desserts.
I don't think this needs much explaining. Baking becomes infinitely more fun around Christmas time, and baking for the sake of giving the baked goods to other people is my favorite. I can make delicious treats simply because I love to and then give them to other people who will love eating them. Everyone wins with Christmas cookies and fudge.
Christmas presents.
My philosophy on gift-giving has changed a lot over the years. I no longer create a list of people for whom I am obligated to find gifts. Instead, I remain open to the possibility of giving presents to everyone, provided that I have an idea that is clever, ironic, or specific to that individual. Essentially, my gift-giving must be intentional. One of the many positives to this philosophy is that girls will never receive a generic bath set from me (unless you tell me a fragrance you like or I think it's really what you want). One of the negatives to this philosophy is that my gift-giving is inconsistent; just because you receive a wildly appropriate present this year does not mean you get one next year. It isn't because I don't love you; it's because I love you enough not to get you something for your junk drawer. I also would like to make it abundantly clear that I don't want things for my junk drawer either, so my anti-obligatory stance on presents goes both ways. Just send me a greeting card. I love greeting cards.
Ultimately, I have decided that I am okay with the commercialization of Christmas. December 25th wasn't Jesus' birthday, so I don't always think of it that way. Thinking about Christ should happen throughout the year, so I am personally not offended that Christmas has been transformed with some odd traditions. I just see it as a season with more spirit than the rest of the year, and each year I hold onto that spirit as long as I can. I haven't bought into the materialistic idea that presents=how much you love people, but I do like to make people happy. Looking for ways to brighten people's days and serve them is a good thing. It's a Christ-like thing. And I find that there are lots of out-of-the-ordinary ways to do that around this time of year... so maybe that's where Jesus fits into the picture. Maybe it is possible for Him and the over-commercialized Christmas traditions to coexist. Maybe it's just about joy.
I know it doesn't make sense to put lights on the outside of my house, Jim Gaffigan, but sometimes it's okay to just want things to be pretty.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Treinta
Tip of the Day:
Do not begin putting change into a parking meter unless you are 100% sure you have enough money to buy the amount of time needed to last the duration of your classes.
So Merry Christmas to whoever reaped the 1 hour 20 minute benefit of my failed parking attempt.
I'd like to know who decided that ten minutes should cost me a quarter. What a jerk.
Do not begin putting change into a parking meter unless you are 100% sure you have enough money to buy the amount of time needed to last the duration of your classes.
So Merry Christmas to whoever reaped the 1 hour 20 minute benefit of my failed parking attempt.
I'd like to know who decided that ten minutes should cost me a quarter. What a jerk.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Veintinueve
A good friend of mine once compared women to spaghetti and men to waffles. Women, she said, are always thinking something. There is never a time when their minds are empty. Men, she continued, are capable of not thinking about anything, as exemplified by the squares in the waffle that don’t end up with syrup.
Several days ago, I was doing my dishes around 1 AM (you know, about the time your fine motor skills quit working) and I broke my coffee maker. There are only a few pieces that go into the filter-containing-apparatus, but I could not for the life of me figure out how to get it back together. I went to sleep somewhat frustrated and thought, “I’ll tackle this in the morning.”
Well, Morning Kris didn’t know how to fix it either. Thus began a week of far-too-costly-campus-brewed coffee.
Last night, I went to sleep again thinking about my coffee maker. (Is that sad?)
And—I kid you not—I dreamed how to fix it. Subconscious Kris managed to correctly assemble the pieces. I woke up and was like, “Oh, duh!” and promptly went into my kitchen, fixed it, and brewed coffee.
I am not joking when I say my mind does not rest.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Veintiocho
Had you asked me prior to today whether I thought restrictions on the sale of alcohol were a good idea, I would have probably said yes. However, having experienced the enforcement of a blue law at Safeway this morning, my answer has changed. Allow me to explain.
No one remembered the elements for communion this morning. We brought in the equipment, started getting things set up, and realized we had no bread or wine. Problematic, you might say. I don't know how to set up sound equipment very well anyways, so I volunteered to make a quick run to buy some pita bread and wine. (Keep in mind that the wine we use is alcohol free.)
I drove like a maniac to the store, ran in, spent a few minutes frantically looking for the wine, grabbed some pita bread, and made a quick break for the self-check-out. I scanned the bottle of wine (which, again, is ALCOHOL FREE), and the screen said "Item is not for sale". I didn't understand. The item had to be for sale--it was in the aisle and it had a bar code! Safeway associates had helped me locate said bottle! It was clearly for sale!
The cashier who was supervising the self check-out came over and informed me that they can't sell alcohol until 10 am. It was 9:15. "But it's alcohol free!" I protested. "And church starts at 10:30!" She grabbed the bottle of wine, turned on her heel, and walked away. I was stunned.
How is there not an exception to the blue laws for items that clearly say ALCOHOL REMOVED on the label? How did that get through the system??
I do find it ironic that the laws that were originally implemented for religious reasons were somewhat of a hindrance to church today.
No one remembered the elements for communion this morning. We brought in the equipment, started getting things set up, and realized we had no bread or wine. Problematic, you might say. I don't know how to set up sound equipment very well anyways, so I volunteered to make a quick run to buy some pita bread and wine. (Keep in mind that the wine we use is alcohol free.)
I drove like a maniac to the store, ran in, spent a few minutes frantically looking for the wine, grabbed some pita bread, and made a quick break for the self-check-out. I scanned the bottle of wine (which, again, is ALCOHOL FREE), and the screen said "Item is not for sale". I didn't understand. The item had to be for sale--it was in the aisle and it had a bar code! Safeway associates had helped me locate said bottle! It was clearly for sale!
The cashier who was supervising the self check-out came over and informed me that they can't sell alcohol until 10 am. It was 9:15. "But it's alcohol free!" I protested. "And church starts at 10:30!" She grabbed the bottle of wine, turned on her heel, and walked away. I was stunned.
How is there not an exception to the blue laws for items that clearly say ALCOHOL REMOVED on the label? How did that get through the system??
I do find it ironic that the laws that were originally implemented for religious reasons were somewhat of a hindrance to church today.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Veintesiete
Some things never change.
It has just occurred to me that perhaps practices between generations are more consistent than we think.
Styles don't really change, they just sort of rotate. Who ever thought platforms would be in style more than once? Thank you, Spice Girls.
Music is always changing, but it seems like just as a new genre is created, another classic rock band gets their second wind.
You get the point.
Now, Homecoming weekend brings a lot of alumni to the U of A campus. Our school is quite old, thus so are some of our alumni. Two elderly ladies stopped by the dorm tonight to take a look at their former residence hall. Amidst the reminiscing, they told me about how they once went to Mexico and bought a bag that was just the right size and shape to hide a six pack of beer, and that's how they smuggled alcohol into the building.
Ahh, college life. It's funny to think that the things teens and twenty-somethings attempt to do today have already been successfully accomplished by their grandparents.
It has just occurred to me that perhaps practices between generations are more consistent than we think.
Styles don't really change, they just sort of rotate. Who ever thought platforms would be in style more than once? Thank you, Spice Girls.
Music is always changing, but it seems like just as a new genre is created, another classic rock band gets their second wind.
You get the point.
Now, Homecoming weekend brings a lot of alumni to the U of A campus. Our school is quite old, thus so are some of our alumni. Two elderly ladies stopped by the dorm tonight to take a look at their former residence hall. Amidst the reminiscing, they told me about how they once went to Mexico and bought a bag that was just the right size and shape to hide a six pack of beer, and that's how they smuggled alcohol into the building.
Ahh, college life. It's funny to think that the things teens and twenty-somethings attempt to do today have already been successfully accomplished by their grandparents.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Veintiséis
Reasons why registering for classes is far too difficult:
1. Not enough sections.
One class everyone in the major has to take... one section. Ridiculous.
2. Not enough seats.
Only 35 seats in that one section? Come on.
3. Faculty members are being fired.
No wonder we can't find classes--there's no one to teach them.
4. The registration system crashes constantly.
They never seem to anticipate the volume of students who need to register at one time.
There are over 30,000 of us. Please be better prepared.
5. There is no alternate registration option.
And the online system always seems to fail in one way or another.
6. People register for classes they don't need.
You know, "just in case" they change their mind later.
7. Days/times for classes aren't finalized until the day before registration.
And they try to teach us to plan ahead.
8. THEY CHANGE PRIORITY REGISTRATION DATES AT THE LAST SECOND.
One class everyone in the major has to take... one section. Ridiculous.
2. Not enough seats.
Only 35 seats in that one section? Come on.
3. Faculty members are being fired.
No wonder we can't find classes--there's no one to teach them.
4. The registration system crashes constantly.
They never seem to anticipate the volume of students who need to register at one time.
There are over 30,000 of us. Please be better prepared.
5. There is no alternate registration option.
And the online system always seems to fail in one way or another.
6. People register for classes they don't need.
You know, "just in case" they change their mind later.
7. Days/times for classes aren't finalized until the day before registration.
And they try to teach us to plan ahead.
8. THEY CHANGE PRIORITY REGISTRATION DATES AT THE LAST SECOND.
Reasons why registering for classes should not be this difficult:
*ahem*
1. Tuition costs an obscene amount of money each semester.
Where has it all gone?
Stop re-potting the flowers and re-hire some professors, please.
The end.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Veinticinco
I wrote this in my online journal when I was 15 (a sophomore in high school). I was somewhat contemplative and maybe even a little bit insightful.
"Life isn't measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away. The problem is, we expect huge, miraculous, sparkly, perfect things to take our breath away, and often times that just doesn't happen. The alternative is opening our eyes to the small, simple, wonderful things that happen every day. Allowing the little things to make us happy ultimately benefits us in the long run, because we learn to stop expecting so much and taking things in stride. Then, when the huge, miraculous, sparkly, perfect things do happen, they're that much more amazing. Seeing things in a positive light, and smiling at the small stuff, it's all a choice. Happiness is a choice. Even when things are tough, we can smile because inevitably something good will follow. We just gotta watch for it. There is beauty in everything around us, but sometimes we're so wrapped up in the yuckish, we don't notice it."
Aside from strange adjectives and the obvious cliche, I don't think I've dropped this attitude.
Regardless of whatever life throws at us, there is always something good.
I have to believe that.
"Life isn't measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away. The problem is, we expect huge, miraculous, sparkly, perfect things to take our breath away, and often times that just doesn't happen. The alternative is opening our eyes to the small, simple, wonderful things that happen every day. Allowing the little things to make us happy ultimately benefits us in the long run, because we learn to stop expecting so much and taking things in stride. Then, when the huge, miraculous, sparkly, perfect things do happen, they're that much more amazing. Seeing things in a positive light, and smiling at the small stuff, it's all a choice. Happiness is a choice. Even when things are tough, we can smile because inevitably something good will follow. We just gotta watch for it. There is beauty in everything around us, but sometimes we're so wrapped up in the yuckish, we don't notice it."
Aside from strange adjectives and the obvious cliche, I don't think I've dropped this attitude.
Regardless of whatever life throws at us, there is always something good.
I have to believe that.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Veinticuatro
The first two years I lived in Tucson, I alternated between being a pedestrian and a driver. Never was I a bicyclist. (Well, there was that one time I borrowed Roommate's bike to go look for a synagogue, but that's a whole different story.) As a pedestrian/driver, I found bicyclists to be rather annoying. Who did they think they were, not following the traffic laws every other vehicle has to follow? Talk about arrogant!
I definitely still think there are a lot of bicyclists who don't actually realize that what they are riding is considered a "vehicle" in our glorious state, so yes they should stop at stop signs and no they don't automatically have the right of way, but my current frustration is with pedestrians:
GET OUT OF THE BICYCLE LANE. Seriously: on campus especially, you have ten feet on either side of our six-foot, two-way path (which means, you math geniuses, that the pedestrians have 20 feet total to work with and I have three feet to myself), and you choose to walk right down the middle? Right on the double yellow lines? I know you think you aren't endangering anyone, but when you start to swerve because you're talking on your cell phone, I can't anticipate that. And if I follow suit and swerve as well, I am putting people's lives at risk who aren't even in the bike lane. And I am bigger and faster than you. And physics tells me this could lead to some problems.
In lieu of this problem, I have written a haiku:
Oh pedestrians
Please get out of the bike lane
Before I hit you
I definitely still think there are a lot of bicyclists who don't actually realize that what they are riding is considered a "vehicle" in our glorious state, so yes they should stop at stop signs and no they don't automatically have the right of way, but my current frustration is with pedestrians:
GET OUT OF THE BICYCLE LANE. Seriously: on campus especially, you have ten feet on either side of our six-foot, two-way path (which means, you math geniuses, that the pedestrians have 20 feet total to work with and I have three feet to myself), and you choose to walk right down the middle? Right on the double yellow lines? I know you think you aren't endangering anyone, but when you start to swerve because you're talking on your cell phone, I can't anticipate that. And if I follow suit and swerve as well, I am putting people's lives at risk who aren't even in the bike lane. And I am bigger and faster than you. And physics tells me this could lead to some problems.
In lieu of this problem, I have written a haiku:
Oh pedestrians
Please get out of the bike lane
Before I hit you
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Veintitrés
A few weeks ago I got "flashed" by a speed camera for the first time. Prior to this event, I had successfully avoided all citations/tickets that usually plague young drivers, so I was in pretty good shape. I was a little nervous, so I spoke with a few friends who have gotten caught by speed cameras. As far as they knew, the ticket would be sent to the person whose name was on the vehicle's registration. At the time, I was driving a car that is registered to my dad. The picture would clearly not look like him, so we could just send in a copy of his driver's license and check the box that says, "This isn't me." (Not the most honest move, I admit.)
So that was the plan. No problem.
Wrong. Of course there was another complication, because if there wasn't, I wouldn't be blogging about it.
The car I was driving also has my mom's name on the registration. And we look so much alike, they aren't going to buy the "this isn't me" excuse if she sends them a copy of her driver's license. So there goes $200. Oops.
The moral of the story is to pay attention to speed limit changes when you get off the highway. Also, watch for signs that say, "Photo Enforcement Zone," because those are *apparently* all over the place. Pshh.
So that was the plan. No problem.
Wrong. Of course there was another complication, because if there wasn't, I wouldn't be blogging about it.
The car I was driving also has my mom's name on the registration. And we look so much alike, they aren't going to buy the "this isn't me" excuse if she sends them a copy of her driver's license. So there goes $200. Oops.
The moral of the story is to pay attention to speed limit changes when you get off the highway. Also, watch for signs that say, "Photo Enforcement Zone," because those are *apparently* all over the place. Pshh.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Veintidós
Tattoos have always interested me. I understand that it isn't everyone's "thing" and that a lot of people dislike them, which is fine, but I think they're fascinating. Hearing people's stories about their tattoos and seeing original artwork never ceases to capture my attention.
Today I got my second tattoo. My first was done two years ago and was relatively painless, except for the bottom edge which goes over my ankle bone. I didn't think too much about that pain when I decided to get the next one on the top of my foot. As the artist began outlining with the needle, I realized something. I believe my exact words were, "So apparently there are a lot of bones in the foot..."
Google has informed me that in fact, there are 26 bones in the human foot, which, let's face it, is pretty cool. (http://www.madsci.org/posts/archives/1998-08/897679960.An.r.html)
In any case, the tattoo turned out better than I expected. Also, because it hurt so much, I'm not too eager to get another one anytime soon. Everyone wins.
Today I got my second tattoo. My first was done two years ago and was relatively painless, except for the bottom edge which goes over my ankle bone. I didn't think too much about that pain when I decided to get the next one on the top of my foot. As the artist began outlining with the needle, I realized something. I believe my exact words were, "So apparently there are a lot of bones in the foot..."
Google has informed me that in fact, there are 26 bones in the human foot, which, let's face it, is pretty cool. (http://www.madsci.org/posts/archives/1998-08/897679960.An.r.html)
In any case, the tattoo turned out better than I expected. Also, because it hurt so much, I'm not too eager to get another one anytime soon. Everyone wins.
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