Lone traveller

So I'm traveling half way round the world today. Alone. For the first time. And I do not like it. I've just left my family and home to go 'home'. Well, the home I have created for myself outside the original. I love being 'home'. It's the leaving my family I don't like. And the leaving alone. Everything seems so magnified when you're alone doesn't it? It's like the middle of the night only it's not. I hate this in between stage you always find yourself in when you're between flights. And waiting for a flight that takes 14 hours is worse. With the layovers and flight time it's going to be another 18 hours our so. Where is that beam thing that Star Trek made us believe was a reality? Anyway, I know this is a downer post but that's how I feel right now. Down in the dumps. The 'muggywumps' as my dad would call it. And getting out of it I fear is only going to happen once I get where I'm going. So hears to a miserable 18 hours....

Thanksgiving 2011

Ok yes I know... it's been two years since I last posted on here. What can I say? I've been busy. And somehow blogging just hasn't been very high on my to-do list. (that and I keep forgetting to do it) They say it takes 40 days to create a habit (or is it three weeks? I can't remember...not to mention I still haven't figured out who the "they" is...) Either way if I did it more often it would become more of a 'thing' for me to do. So here I am.
I've just worked on Thanksgiving day. Again. For the 5th year in a row. It still stings. It's been my favorite holiday for the whole of my life. And yet I love in a country where they just don't seem to celebrate it. Something about not having Pilgrims and Indians and an exchange of maize and beef jerky. (did beef jerky get traded at the inaugural Thanksgiving feast?) I have received the "is it really a public holiday?" question more times that I can count. Not to mention the "they really don't celebrate it over there?" question from a few curious cats across the blue tepid pool but I won't mention any names (er..ahem... goob).
The redemption here is: I have found the perfect solution. Find a few people (origins unbiased) who are interested in celebrating this wonderful holiday and just go for it! Get the turkey. Get the ham. Get your Mama's dressing recipe and get cooking! I salivate just thinking about it. I dream about swimming in a vat of sweet potatoes and diving face first in a freshly baked pumpkin pie. I guess I'll have to make two of each then... dont' want to gross out the guests who have so delightedly shown up for the eats and treats.
And then of course there are the left overs. Ahhh the left overs. Thanksgiving is not Thanksgiving without the left overs. The next day's turkey sandwich with heated up dressing and a layer of mashed potatoes...with a few peas on top just to get the greens in. It is the left overs that leave me with the largest conundrum of my year. Do I offer the delighted guests a dish full of left overs or do I quickly container everything up and hide in the fridge before they even know what they just missed out on?

The quandries I find myself in...

I'm thirty-five years and six days old. I like coffee and have an unparalleled passion for chocolate. My shelves are packed with books I've collected over the years that have been dog-eared 2 chapters in where I gave up, decided to take a break, and never opened again. Then there are the books I've read so many times the cover's been worn and is now falling off. I can get lost in a sea of emotions just by listening to one song, and it can make or break my day. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the year. Which reminds me, I refuse to listen to any one of my thousand Christmas CD's until after Thanksgiving... but the second after I start playing them obsessively. Little Drummer Boy is my favorite Christmas song. That and O Holy Night. I'm a stickler for correct grammar, spelling and punctuation. My neck seems to be more and more limited in it's turning capabililty as I get older, and I don't like that. Yellow flesh nectarines are the absolute best when it comes to summer fruit, but must be eaten when still firm. I have a habit of getting distracted at anything and everything when I'm driving, then jerk back to reality 2 inches from the car in front of me. This new search engine "Bing" really gets on my nerves...why do they think they can do better than Google? Who are these people? Purple is my favorite color of polish on my toenails, but blue is my favorite color for anything else. I'm trying to wear my glasses more often, but I can't seem to break the contacts cycle. I should get lasik. With all the old school styles coming back in fashion, why can't they re-introduce the leg warmer? They were great. I find my greatest moments of serenity are when I am outside on a warm summer's night, listening to the crickets and watching the stars. Someone should bottle the smell of dirt just after a rain...I'd buy it just so I could spray it in the air and take a big whiff.

But the one question that begs answering?

Why does a sneeze wait to present itself until the very moment you've just walked in to a room of poshy-suited people you've never met before, thus presenting the most uncomfortable of decisions: do I use my snotted hand to shake theirs or do one of those awkward "lets shake left handed so you're spared my mucus germs?"

Money Money Money Money.... MONAY!

So there I was looking at my 5 different lots of numbers and was convinced that I, and I alone, would be the sole winner (well me and Rohan anyway) of the 90 million dollar lottery they drew for on Tuesday night. I cannot begin to describe the mortification I felt when the numbers came up and I, having already spent most of that 90 million in my head, found that not only would I not have any part in the big 90 million draw, but that I also would have no part in any of the divisions winning lesser amounts. The agony. The sheer horror that I would have to get up early in the morning, yet again, and go to work, yet again. I was beside myself. I was devastated. Why the injustice?
And so in this, my inaugural "Life Givings" blog I'd like reach out to my fellow blue collar friends and public at large and ask: What is it about free money that makes a sane person go crazy?
I never yearned for 90 million dollars. I never thought I'd be one to make my first million before I was 25. I never had high aspirations. Just a quiet and contented life is all I ever asked for. I've not asked for more than what I've been dealt, and have been quite happy to live as is.
So why, when the carrot was dangled, did I fall victim to the lure that is the lotto? Why was I so surprised that I, among millions of others, didn't win that money? Why did I feel such vile hatred for the two people that did win?
I have thought long and hard about this, I have mulled it over, I have perused the dark corridors in the inner sanctum of my brain and have come to this conclusion: I succombed to (and now using a term my sweet mother so often spouts) "pure-dee-oh greed".
I got greedy. I had myself living the lap of luxury with a silver spoon dangling from my lazy lips. I had myself swinging in a hammock under the sweet Texan sun sipping on a tall glass of iced tea. I had investments submitted and interest sums of over 2.5 million that I'd budgeted to live on yearly.
And it's all gone up in smoke. I feel bereft of any excitement for this job that I loved only days ago. My contempt for traffic is at an all time high. I have let depression set in and I'm not likely to get out of this fog for a while.