I love it when it's already after 5:00 and I realize I haven't even made a dent in my to-do list. Darn things keep popping up that have to be tended to!
I think if I had a magical power ... it would be the ability to hold up my hands and say, "Stop!" And time would pause, so that I could actually work on and finish those projects that have been waiting so patiently on the back burner for so long.
Back to pulling my hair out I go ...
Sometimes, I'm reminded what a shame it is that I live by myself. For example ...
I just whacked myself in the jaw/chin with my computer. (How? Talent.) And then proceeded to laugh at myself as I got up to go check myself in the mirror to make sure I wasn't bleeding -- or missing a tooth. (Remembering the moment now, I'm still chuckling.)
I always hate when stuff like this happens when I'm alone. I want to share that laughter with someone!
Did it work?
I still find it magical to roll over in the morning and gaze out my window at falling snow. There's just something fascinating about snow; it's remarkably peaceful. Will the magic disappear after I've lived with it for a few years? I have no idea. But I'm certainly enjoying it now.
Naturally, this is deeply rooted in my being Southern and only having seen snow a handful of times, at best, in my entire life. Growing up, I'd watch and wait with anticipation -- hoping and praying for just the tiniest bit of snow, knowing full well that even if it did fall, it wouldn't stick. So when those precious few flakes did float down, I couldn't peel my eyes away -- wanting to soak up every moment of its short-lived splendor.
I'm still becoming acquainted with this powdery phenomenon. For example, the very first day that I had to walk through falling snow on my way to work, I remember pulling an umbrella out of my closet and then thinking, "Oh. Um ... do people use umbrellas in snow?" I didn't want to look like a fool, walking around with an umbrella up, if that sort of thing was unheard of. (I was afraid that was a sure sign of "she's not from around here.") Heck, maybe it is uncouth and just wrong. But I'll never forget the simple relief when I spotted someone else walking with an umbrella up. (Whew!)
And now, I've spent several days walking through the snow -- sometimes even hard-packed, icey and treacherous -- so I fully grasp the fact that the snow isn't nearly as rare here, and I can count on it generally sticking around for a few days. But I can't help it. Every time the flakes begin to fall, I feel that tickle of emotion -- the same nervous excitement I've had since I was little -- that tells me this will always be special.
For some reason, I felt like adding a few items to my booklist. Perhaps because I felt I'd had "Voting to Kill" and "Founding Brothers" up there by themselves for too long ... and that's not a very accurate representation of Erin-ness. My current collection is a little closer to the truth -- quite varied and rather odd.
The history/political science books reflect my more recent efforts to get a grip on the subjects. The GRITS (Girls Raised in the South) books are well ... very appropriate, as I am one. And Oxymoronica, well. My mother gave me this book in 2004, with the inscription, "For the wordsmith of our family." So it is one of my most treasured possessions.
To define "oxymoronica": any variety of tantalizing, self-contradictory statements or observations that on the surface appear false or illogical, but at a deeper level are true, often profoundly true.
And a few examples ...
"I love mankind -- it's people I can't stand." - Charles M. Schulz
"There is only one rule for being a good talker -- learn to listen." - Christopher Morley
"The liberals can understand everything but people who don't understand them." - Lenny Bruce
"Liberty must be limited in order to be possessed." - Edmund Burke
"Deep down, he's shallow." - Anonymous
"The love we give away is the only love we keep." - Elbert Hubbard
Obviously, I have a passion for language with distinct poignancy.
... is a good belly laugh. A favorite of mine:
You publish three consecutive posts about snow!
(Just wanted to share this pic of the view from my apartment.)
Fortunately, I had my camera handy and we snapped a couple of photos of these weirdos.
(P.S. My dad gave me that hat! It's "Life is Good" brand, which is one of my favorites -- so very cool. But me in a winter hat ... I look like a boy!! Guess it would have helped if I'd actually been wearing a little makeup ...)
My dad is in town for a visit this weekend, and lucky him -- he's getting to experience some serious northern weather. Granted, Virginia is not exactly "up north." But it's not Alabama. And we have snow up here. Lots of it.
It started coming down just a little while ago, while my dad and I were enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon. (He's getting over a cold, so we're taking it easy somewhat.) Caught this picture while we were admiring the snow. (And yes, I was taking pictures of all the pretty snow -- like a fool.)
Wearing clothes that don't match. At all.
I think it has something to do with the fact that I put so much thought into every other aspect of my life. Sometimes ... I like to take a little break ... and not care one hoot about what I put on my body. So long as I'm covered -- "check."
For example. Tonight, I have to make a quick trip to the store. I'm wearing jeans with a hole in the knee, a bright blue camisole with a lavender and grey button-down over it, and brown slipper-style shoes. Heh.
Ah, this is nice.
If there ever was a time when I really wished I had a little digital recorder, THIS WAS IT!
If you've ever ridden the Metro, you know that the train conductors call out the next station, which side the doors are opening on, if it's a transfer point, and other essential information.
Usually, it's done in the same monotonous tone that seems to coincide with the blank expressions on the faces of the passengers. Riding the Metro is generally a very dull experience.
But this particular morning ... this train conductor ... was positively jovial. Through his voice, I could picture a rickety old man, sitting in a rocking chair on a porch -- just rocking, and rocking -- calling out and raising his wrinkled hand to wave at people as they passed by on the street.
And on this occasion, as they do when the trains are especially crowded, the conductor was encouraging passengers near the doors to step off and out of the way momentarily to allow a more free flow of traffic. Usually it's a quick mention of something like, "Use all available doors, " or, "Please do not block the doors."
But this conductor was an exception. This man -- with his pleasant, strained-with-age, slow-paced voice -- called out, "Now, pleeeease, folks. When we get to the station, step away and make room for the folks gettin' off the train. Now, I promise. I promise I'll give you enough time to get back on. Just step off and let the other folks off."
(Pulling into the station ...) "Here we go, now. We're pullin' in to the station. Now, remember. Step aside and make room for the other passengers." (...) "That's right. I'll give you time to get back on."
The doors opened. We proceeded to exchange passengers at the platform. Doors closed. Train started moving again.
"Fan-tastic!" With the same slow manner: "Now, this next station is Farragut West. We're gonna try the same thing again. Please step away from the doors and let other passengers off the train. Now, now ... don't you worry ... I'll give you time to get back on. I promise. Now here we go ..."
Pulling into the station (my stop), he comes on again with the scripted station-specific announcement: "This is Farragut West. Doors will open on the Right."
And then he whispered into the mic, "It's not quite 9 o'clock, folks. You still have time to grab yourself a cup of coffee." And then chirped out, "Have a nice day!"
