On the eve

My dad and I bought a Christmas tree on Saturday. Yes, we realize Christmas is tomorrow. And we realize that we bought our tree three days before Christmas. But this is what we do every year. We wait until the last minute and then buy the tree for really cheap and consequently end up with a tree that isn't all dried out from the heat inside the house by Christmas Eve. I also can't decorate the tree without my sister, so waiting until she gets home is required. It works out well for all.

We had opted to just use the little artificial tree this year, as we were getting down to the wire and didn't feel much like buying a tree. We typically get a little Charlie Brown around Christmastime. I think it's because buying a tree and everything else to do with Christmas, the Stuff You Have to BUY things, really get us down. They bother my dad because he never financially prepares for Christmas. They bother the rest of the family because the rest of us couldn't care less if we have gifts or holiday whatnot and would really prefer to go without them if it would put Dad in a better mood. Usually, I don't remember what I receive from year to year, so it seems silly to get worked up about gifts.

Anyway, we planned to just use the artificial tree, the backup. And the backup is missing a few pieces which have vanished into the attic in the four or so years since we last used it. So, Dad and I bought a six foot Frasier fir which the guy at the nursery said was about a four foot tree.

On the way to buying the tree, my dad apologized for not feeling very Christmasy, as is his custom. I said it's hard to feel Christmasy without a tree. He said it's hard to feel Christmasy when one hasn't got much money.

And I found that horribly off-putting. I just stared at him and said, "Um, a feed trough and some shepherds? Ring a bell?" And he hugged me. And that is one of those rare father-daughter moments my dad and I don't have much anymore because we're always running in opposite directions and working like fools.

We were in much better moods the rest of the day. And I kept thinking of something JenA wrote on her blog the other day. She wrote that her favorite thing about Christmas is Christmas Eve:

"Because Christmas Day is like, 'We've arrived, we can breathe,' but Christmas Eve is about quiet anticipation. We know the biggest moment in our history as people of God is about to happen, the way Mary and Joseph kind of knew. But they had to be quiet about it, so God made the announcement with the things He created."

And I like that. And I think it's right on. And even if I have to make another trip to Costco before this day is over, I'm going to be thinking of living on the brink of the biggest moment in my history while I do it.

Christmas survey

Lauren tagged me for a Christmas survey. And because it gives me something to post, I'm shamelessly taking her up on it. Also, I tag Nicole, Jen, and Kathleen for this one.

1. What kind of tree do you have?
Right this moment, we don't have a tree yet. I refuse to get a tree and decorate it without my sister, so we're waiting until the weekend. I know all you weirdos with your fake trees are wondering how the hell I feel like it's Christmas without a tree in the house. Well, just so you know, people once put up Christmas trees on Christmas Eve. And before that, people didn't put up Christmas trees at all. So yeah. We're waiting until the family can decorate it together. When we do get a tree it'll be either a Frasier or Douglas fir tree. Those are my favorites.

2. What is your favorite Christmas movie?
"Home Alone" and "A Charlie Brown Christmas"

3. What is your favorite Christmas holiday food?
My mom makes this weird cranberry congealed salad for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I like it, but it's not my favorite thing in the world to eat. However, it's my favorite thing because of the tradition.

4. Do you use wrapping paper or gift bags?
Gift bags are such a cop out.

5. Do you have a nativity scene in your house?
We have two. One is this serene looking crystal set my mom got as a gift. The other is a funky gold set with about a million pieces, including two camels my grandpa named Zeak and Abdul. Obviously the names have stuck. I freaking love those camels. And that nativity scene. Even though it's hopelessly tacky.

6. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I like the Charlie Brown Christmas album with the kids singing "Christmastime Is Here." It always gets stuck in my head, and I walk around singing in a really high-pitched weird breathy voice after I hear it. And who doesn't love the Chipmunks Christmas song? I also like Ron Sexsmith's version of "Maybe This Christma" and "River" by Joni Mitchell (though, admittedly, "River" isn't really a Christmas song at all and is kind of sad).

7. What is the most memorable gift you received as a child?
I got a wooden Nutcracker doll one year after I got slighted by my ballet teacher for the Clara role in the yearly production. She picked her daughter instead of me.

8. What was the worst gift you ever received?
Right after Chad and I broke up sophomore year, we exchanged the gifts we'd already gotten each other. I got him a devotional book that he already had, and he got me a bonsai tree. I think I got the short end of that stick. Stupid tree.

9. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
Martha, Martha! That's what I think of now when I think about how feverish everyone gets around the holidays. There's this one passage in Luke where Jesus goes to visit Mary, Martha and Lazarus in their home. Mary literally sits at his feet listening to him speak while Martha bustles around like a crazy woman and finally gets mad at her sister for not helping her. And it's hilarious because right after she protests to Jesus about how her sister hasn't lifted a finger to help her, Jesus says her name not once, but twice and then tells her that Mary has chosen the better portion. It's weird, but while I love the family stuff I'm doing right now, some stuff with my family and far more with the boyfriend's ginormous family, sometimes I just want go for a long drive and not do any of it. In all the festivities and nonsensical traditions, I feel completely lost.

10. Favorite thing about this time of year?
My sister and I always eat Asian food on Christmas night. We go out for hibachi and sushi, usually, and she eats the sushi and I eat the hibachi. My favorite thing? My family. They're crazy, but I love them. Christmas always seemed like it was going to be disappointing at my house when I was growing up. My dad never liked it because it made him feel inadequate when he couldn't give us the piles of gifts he thought we wanted. But on Christmas morning, we always felt fine, like we loved each other and it didn't matter that my sister and I got pajamas from my mom and something from the Christian bookstore from my dad or that my dad got yet another tie and gave my mom something she would never wear. We're OK, and I like it that way.

I can has kitteez?

You know you really do possess a crazy cat lady personality when the person you're dating tells you that of all his friends, you are most likely to become one. And when the same person calls to tell you he just went to PetCo and saw "you" in 20 years driving an SUV appliqued with a wanna-be school honor roll sticker dedicated to a collection of cats instead of children driven by a woman wearing nurse's scrubs covered in cats dressed as nurses. "That's gonna be you, Katy!" Yep. My life is awesome.

Excuse me, I have to go balance my checkbook now. And buy some cat litter. And write out my Christmas letter in which I detail the ailments of my favorite pets. OK, that's all. K, bah.


moar funny pictures

Welcome to Costco*

*If you haven't seen Idiocracy, well, you need to watch it. It'll change your life. Although, admittedly, that title still wouldn't matter unless you'd been hanging out with me lately, even if you HAD seen the movie. Just watch it, OK?

Wow. I totally did it again. I've gone a freaking week without posting. And I know you all feel sufficiently detoxed from the Katy love, but wait. Take one more hit. Seriously. I'm going to try again. And you should, too. All the cool kids are doing it.

I'm totally getting sick right now. It's this weird little throat thing that I don't actually admit that I have. Actually, that sentence might be the first time I've admitted I might actually be sick. Except for the time about an hour ago when I begrudgingly went into a Walgreen's and bought some cough drops to supplement my echinacea and vitamin C routine. Which, admittedly, probably only works if one gets enough sleep in addition to taking said echinacea and vitamin C and drinking lots of water and eating healthfully. I am not getting enough sleep. A recent conversation went something like this:

B: Do you need to go home? I don't want you to get sick.
K: I'm a big girl, and I make my own decisions. I'll leave when the movie is over.
B: OK, but it's like a long drive home and it's late and you get sick if you don't sleep, according to one, you.
K: Please don't boss me around. Also, I'm hanging out with you so that means you get a souvenir! Here, have some of my sick-o cooties.
B: Yes, please! I love souvenirs!

Obviously, this conversation is a bit ironic because aforementioned person is the main reason I'm not getting a TON of sleep lately. I mean, I wasn't getting a lot of sleep before I started spending every spare second with an uncommonly tall man who owns a poodle because I just don't usually sleep enough. But now the problem is worse. That bitch.

OK, obviously that's not how the exactly how the conversation went, but I swear that was the general IDEA. It's all about issues, people. Ideas! Onward! Anyway, I might be getting sick. I'm sure those around me (which lately means only one other person whom I just can't seem to annoy into getting tired of me) will love this post about cooties and being sick-ish and only admitting I freaking need more sleep when other peoples' lives are at stake.

I'm switching gears now. Like on a bicycle in a triathlon.

Did you like that athletic reference? I feel like it's really about to be my turn. Because I've been running? Oh, um, well, no, not actually. I mean, I RAN the other day. (Of course, immediately after running, I ate a chili dog, so I pretty much broke even.) But, I've been thinking about running a LOT lately.

And I'm going to do it more. As soon as I get some more sleep. Actually, I can totally run tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day. Thank God. I'm just stuck right there at three miles. I just don't feel like pushing through that wall. Or I didn't until yesterday.

Sunday, I watched runners (including aforementioned person I can't seem to annoy to the point where he doesn't want to date me) take on the White Rock Marathon (or, in his case, HALF marathon) here in Dallas. And you know what? It was freaking incredible. I saw the Kenyan elite runners take off for the half-marathon, and I saw some of the other Kenyan elite runners finish the full marathon at the same time as the normal, not professional half-marathon runners were coming down the home stretch. Can you imagine running 26 miles in less than two hours? Because I saw people who did it. I saw one man collapse maybe 25 yards from the finish line, crawl on his hands and knees for a few steps and then pull himself to his feet again to limp to the finish. Obviously, that man wasn't Kenyan, but it was totally a "Chariots of Fire" moment. I read that one woman who raced Sunday actually ran in the Athens Olympics in 2004. She placed 51st, but still! She ran in an Olympic marathon!

Anyway, am I ever going to be an elite runner? No. I know you're all thinking I could totally take on the Kenyans, but I kind of like having a little junk in my trunk. Regardless, my own version of a running feat is coming up far too quickly. I'm not prepared, but I did read about how interest in running always spikes after the Rock. And I'm hoping that's the case for me. Although, if I do happen to go another week without posting, just know I'm probably sufficiently enjoying myself.

The C word

In chapel at John Brown University, where I went to college, speakers and worship leaders and campus pastors tossed around one word more than any other. They spoke it as if by acknowledging it, no one could help but feeling it: community.

My friends and I usually made fun of all the "community talk." We also sometimes mocked the sweet woman who led the prayers during "community chapel," not realizing how much we would miss this community when we left its safety.

My junior year, a guy named Richie Sullivan wore a gold kilt and white T-shirt to senior chapel. And when the chapel leaders opened up microphones for anyone who wanted to say anything about JBU, he went to the front and said, quite irreverently, that the one thing he would miss the least was all the talk about community. I'm pretty sure he took off his shirt and had the word written and circled on his chest and covered with a red letter X to denote his anti-community-propaganda status.

I think that he thought it madness to use a word to try to bring about a certain turn of events. And I sort of think we might all have realized that community wasn't something we could force. It just sort of happened when we weren't looking, when we made mac and cheese at 2 a.m. and sat in the hallways of the dorms talking and gathered week in and week out to watch a mediocre TV show.

I am struggling once again with that elusive C word. I think it might have something to do with the fact that even though I attend a church that I like and where I learn, I'm still missing something. A spiritual link to anything beyond the Sunday evening services. I keep promising myself I will get involved in a home group but then I remember that home groups scare me, that maintaining the status quo protects me from disappointment and heartache.

And I get frustrated with big church and small group because neither reminds me of the vision I have of the New Testament church, the vision that mainly includes eating meals with other people and talking about things God is doing and why they annoy or overjoy us.

And yet, I've been taking risks lately, existing in a sliver of possibility that Something big could happen. It's incredibly ironic to me that even though I live in the Bible Belt, I still feel disconnected from God's people. Maybe it's time for another risk.

Yes?

When God ran out of filters

As it turns out, I have no filter whatsoever. Yesterday, I blurted out that the guy who was with Natalie Holloway in Aruba looked like a big douchbag while watching Fox News with boyfriend and his dad. I still stand by that statement, but I also thinking everyone on Fox News is weird. I kind of hate Fox News, and the fact that we were watching a special called "Mystery in Paradise" kind of makes me cringe. And yet, I couldn't rip my eyes away.

Anyway, we were watching Fox News. And I blurted out the thing about Joran van der Sloot looking sort of like a douchebag type guy, kind of a player, and instantly remember that I am not hanging out with my friends at a bar but at boyfriend's house with his family and suddenly feel like I should have been born with something, a filter that God apparently ran out of when he got to me.

This isn't the first time I've said something aloud to his family only to realize seconds later how it could have been interpreted and sound a little rude. Or a lot rude. And now I feel awful, worried that there's some sort of defense mechanism that makes me this way, that screams for me to use biting sarcasm and banter in everyday conversation with people I barely know as if they already know me and know I'm joking.

So, anyway. Thoughts? Any of you made any comments like that where the moment they roll off your tongue you realize how much of an asshole you might be? Because it happens to me all the time. And I just hate feeling like an asshole at the end of the day.