It's what I saw this morning when I woke up. Mei woke up at three-thirty, but was kind enough to put off waking me up until an hour later. At which time I looked at the clock and told her promptly to go back to sleep. We emerged at seven, partially awake and covered in blankets. Because I am much more of a seven o'clock person than a four-thirty person. Four-thirty isn't even really morning. It's night. An ungodly hour of the night.
I know I haven't posted in two (and a half?) weeks. This wasn't because I forgot about it. The first week I was suffering and stressing (and every other distressing verb starting with a S and most other letters) under finals. I decided to actually write essays instead of getting on and complaining about them. (You're welcome.) The week after that I was lazy. Also, nothing was going wrong, which made it strangely difficult to write. It is slightly depressing to me that my writing abilities extend only as far as my ability to complain, but I have a hard time feeling sad that there was nothing to complain about this last week.
It is gratitude that now prompts me to break out the haze of laziness. This morning I unwrapped many beautiful presents. My grandma sent me several gifts, but high among them is a 100 year old poem book by Henry W. Longfellow. Grandma, it's beautiful in every sense of the word. Thank you.
Some of the other gifts I received were mentioned mentioned in my letter to Santa (as seen below). So, to Kelsey and Aunty Kathy, thank you very much for my scarf, drivers-licence and very generous transcript.
The scarf, combined with a jacket and sweater, compliments of my parents and Mei, are sure to prevent me from freezing at college next year. My drivers-licence is also much appreciated. I plan on using it today since I see it expires tomorrow. The transcript is lovely and the comments are full of half truths and blatant lies. Like, from my math teacher, Mr. Graph, "She can add like nobody's business." Not only is this in itself not true, but it totally neglects my unfortunate interactions with the evil generally referred to as geometry. Thank you so much. I'll mail it out Monday.
But you know, Santa, I'm still waiting to be accepted to colleges. Thank you for the end to my long-winded sickness, though, and also my A in IPB. Especially the A in IPB.
(A short bragging moment: Dr. Ford, who gives A's about as rarely as my dad, gave me a 96.8% on my final essay. Can you see me jumping up and down? I did right after I got the grade, and (because I'm a actual clutz as well as a social one) injured myself on a chair in the process. Getting A's on essays in IPB is especially satisfying not only because they're difficult to get, but also because I make such a dork of myself in class. It's nice to be able to show that, no, I'm not a total idiot. And, yes, coherent thoughts do take place in my brain, even if they rarely come out of my mouth.)
As long as we're talking about my Christmas gifts I have to mention that I have, at long last, gotten a food processor, which only leaves scholarships and enlightenment left. One down, two to go. I also have a beautiful new cookbook called Baked Explorations.
It is full of chocolate and sentences like, "In recent years there has been an explosion in salt sophistication."
I love it. So much.
Last night my family went around and counted the Christmas lights in our little village. This is a tradition which my mother, Mei and I take part in full-heartedly. My dad participates by driving us around, but finds it all a bit hypocritical because we're disappointed when our Christmas light regulars neglect their colored, glowing duty, and yet we never put up any lights ourselves. In case you were curious, our count was 201 houses with Christmas lights or some other significant decoration, such as inflated Santas of giant Christmas bulbs.
My dad also thinks that opening one present on Christmas Eve, one of our hallowed family traditions is not so great. Bad, in fact. He thinks it's a transgression, if not a sin and refuses to have anything to do with it. He says a man must stand by his principles in controversial situations like this.
Controversial situation my foot. It's one present! It's Christmas Eve!
I love Christmas Eve even more than Christmas day, I think. Christmas day I'm often tired and sugared-our (we've got this amazing hot chocolate... and regular chocolate... and cookies... and lemon curd... and whipped cream... and candy-canes.... and--you get the idea), but Christmas Eve is much more quiet. It's about carols, and cooking with my mom and Mei, and arguing with my dad about whether or not heavenly beings are angered by me opening a present before Christmas. It's when I realize how amazing it is that 2010 years after Christ's birth, much of the world is still celebrating his birthday.
Anyway, all I really wanted to say is thank you to my family for the presents and, to the rest of you, thank for your comments, and just being interested enough to watch my muddle my way through learning how to blog.
Merry Christmas!
I used to have the same argument with my dad over opening Christmas eve presents! Darn dads! Can't they see the value? The edge it takes off the anticipation?
ReplyDeleteCongrats on your essay. That's big time. Please give Dr. Ford a huge high five. I Lub him very much.
Also, you're right. It's not as fun to write when you're happy. Struggles makes for such great material. But beware because I have found that God gives many struggles to those who have the gifts of words. I think he wants us to write about them so all the other people with struggles know they are not the only weirdies in the world. ;)