Hey There!

Pssssht.  Last week was hard.  After a full week off for Thanksgiving, I returned to the harsh reality that, well, work is hard.  And kids are annoying right before Christmas.  And accreditation years at school are their own personal hell.  It was one of those weeks where I had to groan and pout and peel myself out of bed each morning, and where the only thing I wanted to do when I got home was take a coma nap.  So that's what happened.  There were coma naps and that was about it.

But this weekend brought with it returned motivation, a can-do attitude, and enough energy for me to become, (as Cassie always puts it and I always want to steal, but then I don't want to steal because then I'm a big fat stealer) "a whirling dervish of productivity."  And then I was feeling back on top of the world.  While the Christmas tasks aren't even close to being done, the miserable school tasks are well on their way--or at least enough on their way that I don't have to worry about them when I exit my classroom.

I'm so happy right now.  Happy that we have 1 1/2 episodes of Boardwalk Empire to catch up on, that my Christmas cards are ordered (and that I didn't have to pay anything for them because I won a $100 Shutterfly credit earlier this year!), happy that maybe--just maybe!--Newt Gingrich will be the Republican nominee, and happy that there's a big bowl of peppermint marshmallows just waiting for me to go ellipt so that I can eat them up without feeling guilty.  I'm happy that I get to read one of my faves, The Great Gatsby, with my juniors twice every day, and I'm happy that after nine more school days I won't have to see those same juniors for a while.  I'm happy that we're getting our tree this week and that I get to make my house into a really busy, super tacky, a little bit white-trash winter wonderland.  And I'm happy that I get to share this fun Christmas season with the cutest dog ever and the best husband ever and an active little fetus who's been going all Michael Flatley* on my insides today.

Here's what it's been looking like around here.

 Mitch needed to help load the refrigerator with beer.

 And tell Matt a very funny secret.

 This is how far I am with Christmas decorating.

 Cupcakes for a baby shower!  You probably forgot that I'm basically a professional baker.

 Pup was feeling a little down this weekend, which was probably more upsetting to Matt and me than it was to him.

 Talking to Shecky on speakerphone during ellipting.  It's kind of awesome.

 Peppermint creamy goodness.

 Human child has some work to do if he's going to be cuter than his brother.

 This totes could have been our Christmas card photo--you know, if Mitch didn't look like he had rabies and I didn't look like a ghost.  Oh well.

Soul. Mates.  

Happy week to you!  May it be full of marshmallows and Nucky Thompson.  And dogs.  Always dogs.

*His legs flail about as though independent of his body!

"Hurricane Gloria didn't break the porch swing--Monica did!"

We've already discussed how Matt is the big reader in our home, and how I'm functionally illiterate. Not only am I a distracted reader, but I am really slow, too. My tortoise-like style would be annoying anyway, but it's super annoying given that I married Matt: America's Brainy Speed Reader.

I always knew that Matt was a much faster reader than me, but I didn't see it in action until we began watching Jeopardy! religiously. When a clue comes up, I am not finished reading the first line of it when Matt is shouting out an answer. I don't stand a chance--unless the category is one of the following: the Bible (a guess one good thing came from Baptist school), Olympic cities, and art. Matt doesn't know anything about art. I think it's because he's colorblind.

He's more into books, anyway.

A week or so ago, Matt bought a slew of books from Barnes and Noble, one of which was Chuck Klosterman's Eating the Dinosaur.

Now, I can't really provide you a critique of the book, because I haven't read it. I might, you know, if I grow an attention span, tire of everything else I love, and become a bed-ridden insomniac. So, unless this perfect storm should arise, chances are I won't be reading the book. But I like the idea of reading the book. And I bet it's really good. Matt's been laughing really loudly while he's been reading it.

Chuck Klosterman's academic and insightful approach to pop culture is super fun to read (I've read parts.). In this book, he has a passage about one of my favorites, Friends. (That, since it was only a few pages, I did manage to read in its entirety.)

Here's a quick excerpt:

"Like almost all successful TV ensembles, the plots on Friends weren't a fraction as important as the characters and who played them--especially as the seasons wore on, the humor came from our familiarity with these characters' archetypes. People who liked Friends literally liked the friends. Audiences watched the show because they felt like they had a relationship with the cast."

Hmmmmmm. And what episode does he reference? "The One Where Old Yeller Dies"! (The one I referenced yesterday.) Basically, I am Chuck Klosterman. Except for, of course, the vast intellect and the coolness and the red hair and the beard.

For the record, though, Ross is my favorite friend.

Who's yours?

FAJITAS!