I resolve to post more bullshit that no one will read.
Christmas was uneventful, just like I prefer it to be. We went to my aunt’s house for Christmas Eve - the first Christmas Eve get together I’ve been to in a while - where we ate some fish and talked about our trip to Vegas. We gave Dad and Deb their present, which was a nice 8″x10″ from the wedding in a pretty frame. Deb pointed out that it will be up on their mantel, which has all the other formal pictures up there, and look completely different than everyone else’s. After an hour or so, we left there and followed Dad and my stepmother to her cousin’s house, where we ate more fish.
It's like a prom! With Elvis!
It’s an Italian thing.
Then it was back home again to finish wrapping things, because we’re a bunch of filthy slackers. And being as boring as we are, ','caption', 'My fantastic husband' );">Eddie and I were in bed by 11pm.
However, we were up early, and ','caption', 'My fantastic husband' );">Eddie was in the living room at around 7am, ringing a silver bell and yelling “IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!!” As usual, I chose to spend the day in my pajamas, and lounged around in some awesome Hello Kitty pjs that I received as a secret Santa present from a running friend. Mom once again made a fabulous crown roast, and ','caption', 'My fantastic husband' );">Eddie was told (again) that he was not allowed to wear it as a meat crown. Aunt Laurie hid the little “hats” that go on the roast’s bones on Mom’s penguin collection again. We stuffed ourselves silly with meat and cake and assorted yummy things, and Mom didn’t need to cook for three days because we just reheated leftovers. It was Monday before she realized that I was eating nothing but stuffing for dinner, since we were fixing our own plates.
I like stuffing. A lot. DON’T YOU JUDGE ME.
I've got a sparkly!
A couple of weeks before Christmas, ','caption', 'My fantastic husband' );">Eddie was asking me what I wanted. I had no ideas what I wanted him to buy me; there was nothing that I absolutely had to have, and the one thing that I wanted when he asked was a paper-cutter. However, I know how I get when it comes to my crafty obsessions. I do a craft non-stop for a week or a month or whatever, and then never do it again. Because of this, as selfish as it seems, I admitted to ','caption', 'My fantastic husband' );">Eddie that I didn’t want him to buy me a paper-cutter for Christmas because I didn’t want to waste a gift on a crafty obsession that I could potentially give up in a couple of weeks. So that night when he asked me for the bajillionth time what I wanted him to buy me, I told him “A My Little Pony with a diamond ring.” And that’s exactly what I got. He also bought me Epic Mickey, which I’ve been playing now and then when I get some time after dinner. I bought myself a paper-cutter on Sunday, and have used it to chop up a Martha Stewart magazine full of Halloween craft ideas to make origami boxes, origami being the only craft that I’ve been doing forever. I started folding stuff in fourth grade and just never stopped.
Naturally, with only one day left in 2010, I’m thinking of what I want to accomplish in 2011. My main goal for this year was to run enough to be able to handle running the race in Vegas. I did it, but right up until I crossed the starting line I was still insisting that I was going to die somewhere around Mile 8. Hell, I was still expecting to die when I was actually at Mile 8. This year, my goal is to do shit that I never think that I can do, and not to get my panties in a wad about doing it. I’ve set some lofty goals for myself when it comes down to running this year. Since I don’t have any specific goal “race”, my goals this year are to run each race to the best of my ability, to really push myself, and to work towards a goal of running 1000km this year. All of those are totally doable, providing that I don’t slack off for weeks at a time, like I’ve done since I got back from the trip. I’m also going to stop snacking on shitty food at work, because I know that I was doing so well for so long, and I know that eating the shit is probably affecting my moods and desire to do anything when I get home after work.