This Made Me Laugh . . . .

Edit: The sizing didn't work so well in translation. Bummer. Anyway, Hobbes is asking Calvin why the snowman has a hot water bottle on his head. Calvin answers that he is committing suicide.

On the 14th Day of Christmas . . .

The Christmas season always seems to come to an abrupt end. It builds up forever, starting the day after Halloween when decorations and treats start to appear on the store shelves, and continuing until the end of December 25th. Then it's over. Done. History. Finito. Sure, the tree might stay up a little longer, but only because we don't get around to putting it away. (Assuming, of course, that we got around to putting it up in the first place, which is more than I can say this year. . . The only thing I decorated was my Farmville farm.) Radio stations and stores go back to their normal non-seasonal music. Grocery stores put out the Valentine's Day stock. Shopping is once again accessible to the faint of heart. I'm no different. I start looking ahead to what's next the night of the 25th too. I've already undecorated my Farmville farm. I must admit though, I was pleasantly surprised at church today to find that we were having another Christmas service the Sunday AFTER Christmas. Amazing Organist Guy did his thing (I am impressed by all who can make an organ play beautiful music, but every once in a while, there is an organist who was born for the job. . . one who makes the whole congregation smile as they sit up and sing with extra gusto), more carols were sung, more stories told. And why not? 'Tis still the season . . . kind of. Merry Christmas to all!

I knew I could, I knew I could . . .

I have commitment issues. You all know it's true. I have waited 9 years to commit to decorating my bedroom. What if the paint color didn't work with the furniture? What if I had to settle on a so-so bedspread forever? Is there really room for a headboard? Is it really a necessary expenditure to replace the hand-me-down dresser I have used since high school when it still works just fine? Would I do all that work and end up hating it? Nothing ever seemed quite right for the place where I spend so many hours with my eyes closed.

Finally, the planets have aligned and everything has come together to create what I must say is my dream bedroom (or at least my dream bedroom in my current income bracket). Many thanks to Cristine for finding the perfect paint color (take out the bed, add some kale, and you'll have her kitchen), to Sina for finding the perfect bedspread (how does she do that?), to Ikea for stocking all the right accessories and for finally coming to Utah, and to John Paras for having exactly the bedroom set I have had in my head for exactly the price I could afford. Zzzzzzz . . . . .

Merry Christmas from Conan

I don't really like Conan O'Brien. I don't think he is funny. I know that practically makes my un-American, but it's true. However, this clip amused me. It was my first Conan laugh.