loriestories

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m finished with 2004.

Sometimes there are years where, as the clock winds down, I find myself thinking “aww, this was a really good one; I’m sorry to leave it behind.” This year had its ups and downs, but I am most certainly ready to close the door on it and move forward.

Buckle up – here’s the year in (very quick) review:

In January, I traveled to Rochester, New York, and had some issues with being a manager when I got back.

February was the month when, in anticipation of my 24th birthday, I embarked on a whirlwind of planning and working out and doing everything right for once in my life.

Of course, as most of you know, this all came to a screeching halt on March 1, 2004, the day that will forever define this year. Ginny had her accident, and in the midst of dealing, I suddenly became the kind of woman I never thought I’d be – composed, patient, and capable. And we learned what it’s like to deal with the kind of horrible tragedy that leads off the news every day for weeks.

April continued our parade of learning to cope. It’s also the month where I got in big trouble at work for the first time in my career. This changed pretty much everything about the way I approach my job, and while it’s something I don’t write about much anymore, it’s something that continues to affect me.

In May, I took a couple of weeks off of work to care for Ginny at home, and had a taste of life as a homemaker and caregiver. I learned that while I can do it, it’s probably not my long-term goal.

June saw Ginny back in the hospital for wheelchair rehab, which was followed by increased mobility on her part and the first times we were able to leave the house together as a family.

In July, I looked for apartments, considered the ramifications of declawing my cat, and traveled to New Hampshire, where I promptly got food poisoning. Damn you, lobster.

August was band, band, and more band, with some weddings and work involved and not a whole lot else.

September was a month of hurricanes and – you guessed it – more band and work.

I’ll remember October as the month where I became overwhelmed by and obsessed with politics. Which all came to a screeching halt in November.

And, well, nothing much happened in December. I don’t even feel like linking it.

Thank you, as always, for reading along with my life as it has unfolded during these past twelve months (or longer, if applicable). I’ve got some cool things up my sleeve for 2005, and I hope you’ll all stick with me for it.

Happy new year to you all.

The single moment that will define Christmas for me this year was when my three-year-old cousin, William, unwrapped the Nerf football we got for him, squealed his head off, and immediately threw it across the room. He had about a million presents, but spent the rest of the evening throwing the football with absolute three-year-old glee.

It’s the best dollar we’ve ever spent.

Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you have a wonderful holiday with your family and friends.

I am completely and totally addicted to LifeSavers Gummies. You know, the ones with the five new flavors. I am very picky about the consistency and flavorfulness of my gummi candies, and these gummies are consistently squishy and fruity. Unfortunately, sometimes they give me a tummyache. But that might be because I convinced myself that LifeSavers Gummies are good for me and ate an entire seven ounce bag of them in about twenty minutes.

In other delusional news, I spent many hours during the last two days playing Top Spin on Ginny’s new Xbox, and I am so damn good at it that I have convinced myself that I missed my calling as a pro tennis player. I am certain that I would be awesome at tennis if I put a racket in my hand and stood on the court. The only thing not-so-good about Top Spin is that we have determined that it is absolutely impossible to create an attractive player. Which is why my female pro is named Fuggie. The only thing saving Fuggie from her hideous face is that her DNA sample happened to provide her with a ginormous set of boobs.

Oh, the other thing is that the developers clearly spent more time developing the men’s side of the game rather than the women’s, because the men have more intense gameplay and more awesome moves and more attitudes to display than the women do. I’ve spent most of my time playing with Fuggie, and no matter how hard I try, Fuggie never dives for a shot. Homer Dee, on the other hand, dives all the time and is pretty good at it. Homer Dee is also ugly, though, and is best viewed from afar.

I also want you to know that Anna Kournikova recently kicked Fuggie’s ass in her first pro tournament, and believe me, Fuggie will have her revenge.

I’m not finished with my Christmas shopping yet and I really wish I were, because people are starting to get really mean at stores and I have a lot of trouble dealing with that. I may or may not have cried about it on Saturday. So yeah, I need to find some time, maybe in the middle of the night at Wal-Mart or something, when I can go out and minimize interaction with other human beings, most of whom seem to be convinced that everyone is out to steal the last hot toy or roll of wrapping paper out from under their fingertips.

My Christmas spirit tends to come in waves and is waning a bit right now. Maybe we’ll have an upswing before the big day actually arrives. I hope so!

If you are a vendor and you want our business, or we already work with you and you just want us to love you all to bits, then you should definitely bring expensive treats by our office at this time of year. We don’t get to buy that stuff for ourselves because we’re in nonprofit, but we have no ethical issues preventing us from accepting gifts of this nature.

Since my program relocated to a new (and out-of-the-way) building last summer, we’ve kind of gotten the shaft on the holiday treats. The people we do business with tend to take their gifts to our main offices, and they rarely if ever make it down to our house.

This is good for my figure and bad for my morale.

Luckily, this year we managed to score a bag of Moose Munch from Harry and David that I’m certain was a part of a larger H&D gift basket. I’m happy we got the Moose Munch, because that’s some good stuff, but I’m a little pissed because I am a horrible, impolite human being, and I suspect the Moose Munch came in the Holiday Hamper, and as you will see by visiting that link, the Holiday Hamper includes the legendary Harry & David Royal Riviera pears. And nuts. And truffles. And other amazing and exciting gourmet treats.

And you know what I haven’t seen or heard about? That’s right. No one breathed a word to us about the potential existence of those pears at the office down the street. I might have walked barefoot in the snow down there to steal a pear, if we actually had snow and if I wasn’t squicked out about walking barefoot on public sidewalks.

Also, I think the Moose Munch gave me a tummyache the other day.

Anyway. Today, our favorite oh-so-hot-and-friendly sales rep ever in the world came by with a big-ass box of awesome treat stuff for us. I’m sitting here eating chocolate-covered raisins from said big-ass box right this minute and I’m pretty happy about that.

I am sure, though, that when our favorite oh-so-hot-and-friendly sales rep ever in the world was in my office, that I may have been a little moony. And I’m a bit embarrassed about that.

But seriously, he’s hot and nice and we love him and want to marry him. So I think it’s okay if I was a little moony and eyelash-batty while he was here. Maybe.

Yes. We can be plied with food.

Okay, I have a very important office-related question to ask of you, my bright and wise readers.

What do you do if you have an office obligation and a bathroom obligation in contention with one another? Exactly how should this be handled?

This morning, I had a 9AM meeting across campus. As I was grabbing my files and putting on my coat, I was suddenly made aware of the bathroom obligation.

The bathroom obligation was not to be a quick thing, a brief flirtation. Oh, no. The bathroom obligation would demand a little more time.

But the meeting was at 9. And it was 8:57. And there was no way I could make it to the meeting on time if I tended to the bathroom obligation.

So I buttoned my coat and headed out for my office obligation, but throughout the office obligation, the bathroom obligation reminded me of its presence. And once the office obligation was satisfied, I raced back to my office to tend to the bathroom obligation.

Question: is it ever okay to call your bosses and postpone a meeting due to a bathroom obligation? Am I the only person who’s ever had this happen? And what if you do call and say, “Hey, I’m going to be just a few minutes late,” and then the bathroom obligation requires twenty strenuous minutes of your attention? How do you explain THAT?

Here’s a picture I took of my Nanie’s autumn flowers so that you can look at it for a while if talk of bathroom obligations disturbs you: