Anticipation

Here I sit at my desk an there are only 6 days until we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. As each day passes the excitement and anticipation build around the big day. Having young children at home, the countdown is a very important activity. I am amazed at the passion coming from my oldest as she waits for that morning. This has caused me to wonder what happened? Somewhere along the line the magic of Christmas was lost. It was more than the loss of Santa, sorry if that was news. The best I can tell it is something within each of us that has been lost. <>

In case you haven’t heard yet, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. This past weekend though, I’ve started feeling nostalgic about life. I keep looking back on where I’ve been, and wondering where in the world I’m headed. I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m missing the boat somewhere. As I wade through my thoughts, one thing has become unpleasantly clear. I’m growing up, and I hate it.
To me winter means three months without sunlight. Three months of driveway shoveling. Three months of double-long commutes. Three months of wondering whether this will be the day I drive into a ditch for the third time (What? You haven’t done that before?). Three months of bulky winter coats. Three months of salt marks on my shoes. Three months of our dog Monty dragging me like a dogsled through the snow on walks. Three months without my bike or my running shoes. Three months of chapped lips. Three months of depression. In short, I’m not a big fan of winter.
Each year around Christmas time I set some pretty lofty goals for myself that involve Christmas cards arriving in people’s homes by the third week of December, having all my gifts purchased and wrapped before Thanksgiving, and decorating the house from top to bottom on Black Friday – after I’ve spent the morning bargain hunting for the cheapest prices of the season of course. Here I sit at the end of the first weekend in December and I’ve not purchased the cards yet or even attempted to search through the attic for our Christmas decorations.
More than a few weeks ago I wrote an 
Hi, I’m Thanksgiving and today is my day. I don’t usually get a lot of publicity outside of today, and that’s usually the way I like it, but there are some things going on with the other holidays that I don’t really appreciate. It’s time for me to step up and be recognized for what I am: the best holiday on the calendar. It didn’t used to be this way; there was a time when I was clearly no better than 3rd or 4th on the list, but times have changed.
I love junk food. In fact, I eat junk food so much that it might as well be an added food group in my regular diet. I can’t seem to get enough of it. Inevitably I try to stop eating junk food on the very day that there are donuts left for us at the teacher’s lounge or Pete has a craving for ice cream. I can’t seem to get away from it, and I’m ok with that. I have a fall back plan on the nights when my hand has spent a little too much time in the cookie jar.
I am so excited about this week’s Adventure in Awful. CSI Miami holds a special place in my heart. It is one of the most poorly written and acted shows on television, and I can’t get enough of it. It is half drama, half unintentional comedy. It’s kind of like eating Kraft Macaroni and Cheese: you know it’s not high quality, but man is it enjoyable. Most of the plots have more holes than the Bills’ defense (ah, making fun makes the losing hurt less). If the methods they use to catch killers were actually possible, there would be no crime in our world. On a weekly basis, they perform an impossible miracle of science.





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