I am looking forward to this Christmas season for a few reasons and dreading it for others. I suppose everyone could make such an astoundingly boring statement. I have become a tad Grinchy over the years--overcome by the shameless shallowness of the whole affair. I think a perfect year end would stop at Thanksgiving and pick up somewhere around Valentine's Day. I predict that someday technology will afford people like me the ability to be temporarily cryo-parked for several months at a time in a dreamless holiday-free state of chilly bliss. But whatever. Maybe in another post I'll list the things that piss me off/irritate me/depress me about Christmas. But not today. Justin is in love with Christmas and for his sake, I am trying to be a jolly ol' elf about it.
In other news, I got a skateboard for my birthday. Oh yes. It's huge - a monster, a massive monolith of mythic proportions. I am teaching myself to ride it and so far I am only riding at night so as to not draw attention to myself. This will give you an accurate mental picture: Imagine someone standing up but convulsing, or hula-hooping. Imagine that person's face frozen in an expression of intense concentration while waving their arms like a windmill in a hurricane. That's me sk8ting. Oh yeah - good stuff. So far I haven't hit the ground, but I have developed a new language that's a phrenetic combination of profanity and panting. "Oh Faaaaaaaahhhhh!" I wanted this skateboard because everytime I see some little kid doing it, it looks like so much fun. To hell with that little dignified voice in my head that says a woman of my age and decorum has no business adjusting her trucks. If it's fun, then I have to at least try it. So far I can tell you this: speed bumps are bad.