Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Christmas, Part Two: The Dog

Hey, people everywhere! Christmas has certainly struck, hasn't it? Well, everywhere except here. Still no sign of snow (though all signs at my house point to allergies- hooray). But who cares? This has been one of the best weeks I've had in a long time. I spent most of today making snowflakes out of coffee filters, which are now hanging on my bedroom ceiling- if the weather won't appease my wishes, at least I can make it snow inside. :)

Oh yeah, and.... I HAVE A NEW DOG!!

We found him at the animal shelter this weekend when we dropped off some donations. He's a shaggy little mutt, but so cute. He's part terrior, part Shih Tzu, has a nasty ear infection that we've been treating, and is blind in one eye. But who cares? He's MINE, even if he has to crash at my Grandma's next weekend when we visit Mom's family in Arkansas.

We named him Bulka- Mom picked it. Originally, I wanted to name him Shaggy, or Rags, or something lame like that. But we decided on Bulka, which is the name of a toy dog in a play my sister's going to be in called The Velveteen Rabbit. I doubt it will be much like the book, since in there they don't have names. My sister's best friend is playing Bulka, who is excitable and prone to fainting- the character, not the friend. My sister will be playing a wind-up toy mouse, creatively named: Mouse. Hooray.

Having a new dog is kind of hard, however cute and sweet and wonderful he is- although that makes up for it. I have to take him on a walk every day, but it's harder with two dogs at once, because the get tangled up and try to race each other and stuff. Oh, and then there's my other dog, Mocha, the one I've had since middle school. She's feeling a little betrayed at the moment.

See, Mocha is a great dog. She absolutely adores people of all kinds. But she's terrified of most animals- particularly of her own species. Every time we watch a relative's when they go out of town, it's always an adjustment for her, and she usually spends the whole time in my closet or behind the couch.

Now, that's all well and good, but this is different. Bulka is a permanent guest, and he's sleeping in Mocha's usual hide-out: My Room. So, when she found out she had no safe house, she wilted. I put her on the couch before turning to the bathroom to assist my father in scrubbing Bulka clean. Her eyes watched me soulfully as if to say, "Et tu, Brute?"

Ah, well. At least she has Dad.

Bulka, I have discovered, has excellent taste in literature. We're working on A Christmas Carol in honor of the season, and then we're going to start him on the Bunnicula series. Incidentally, I tried him out on passages from different books. I get the vibe that he likes Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie's stuff best. He likes Dickens too, but the Tolstoy made him sleepy. He sneezed politely for Tolkien. I haven't tried him on anything else, though. I was thinking Alice in Wonderland or Peter Pan. Who knows? Maybe we'll even be brave and break out Le Morte D'Arthur.

So, that's my Christmas thus far. Much Much More on Sunday when we get back from Christmas in Arkansas- Stay tuned, boys and girls!

~Sarah

                                          This is Bulka! Cute, right?

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Christmas, Part One: Dad's Family

Christmas. Wonderful, beautiful, glorious Christmas, around which the entire kid-year revolves! For a choir nerd like me, Christmas started in September. I've had my room decorated since the day after my birthday, and I've been looking forward to this since August. It's my favorite time of year! It's everyone's favorite, really. People who say their favorite holiday is the Fourth of July or Thanksgiving are totally kidding themselves, because as soon Macy's Santa Clause rolls onto Thirty-Fourth Street, everybody automatically goes through a metamorphosis that makes you a ten-year-old kid with a Red Ryder at the top of his list. If you don't believe me, go to the mall and just sit there, staring at people.

This weekend marks the true beginning of the season for me. Because, no matter how much we like Christmas, there's always one aspect that we can't get away from.

Relatives.

Now, when you're a kid, this isn't really considered a drawback. My sister still technically qualifies as a younger kid, something that she loathes more than anything. But on the other hand, letting people pinch your cheeks and sitting in a room full of bratty babies with runny noses and Cheerios in their hair is a small price to pay for the annual bag of loot.

Me, on the other hand- well, let's just say that I'm good at faking.

Saturday wasn't so bad. On Saturdays, we have a smaller get together at my aunt and uncle's house in town. They have two boys, three and four. Add Grandma and a couple of other cousins, and we get a real bash, with early Christmas presents from grandparents and Build-Your-Own sandwiches. Not exactly a raw deal.

When I came marching up to the door, carrying our contribution to dinner (Mom's superb Magic Cookie Bars) the first thing I noticed was that my Texas cousins were conspicuously absent. According to Grandma, they had croup. Ouch.

 In their place, three weary travelers, relatives from Nebraska, sat sulking in a row on the sofa. It was the saddest thing I've ever seen in my life. My great-uncle and two nameless female cousins, turning the pages of their various magazines in unison like robots. I tried to make contact, but they were completely unresponsive.

After the general greeting, followed by much inhaling of sandwiches and Magic Cookie Bars, my sister, the boys, and I sat staring at the tree while the grown-ups fussed for their cameras. Last year, I had kept well away from the tree, feeling that this whole presents thing was simply for the little kids. I didn't want to look greedy. Well, to heck with it this year. I had been waiting for this all year, for crying out loud.

Every year since I was eleven has been exactly the same. I always get at least one article of clothing, a book, and a couple of DVDs from Grandma, and an iTunes giftcard from my aunt and uncle. This year, I got a GAP hoodie that I have been wearing since last night (mega-soft), a hardback copy of Inkdeath, and two movies from Grandma, and an iTunes giftcard from my aunt and uncle, which I promptly went home and spent on Micheal Buble's Christmas album.

This morning, in good spirits, I was ready to face the larger mass of relatives. Every year, the day after our gift exchange with close(r) relatives, we meet up at another cousin's house for pot luck and a good old-fashioned game of Dirty Santa.

I guess I should explain my Extended Family Policy at this point. My parents have big families on both sides. They both have four siblings each, and then with my Dad there's Grandma's six brothers and sisters, their kids, and other various posterity running about the place. And with all that, while I have an ample brain capacity, it simply cannot hold the sheer number of names. I find it simplest to call everyone "Hey." Oh, like you haven't done it before. "Hey, how's it going?" "Hey, come sit by me!" "Hey, gimme that!"

I got by on my usual "Hey, (insert food/beverage/other inanimate object here)" and then got sucked into the Kid Craft. Last year, it was reindeer food. We mixed Quaker oats with glitter. Hurray. This year, it was taking a long piece of red string and stringing Cheerios on it to decorate your Christmas tree. Hurray.

When I finished becoming thoroughly disgusted with all types of breakfast cereals- not just Cheerios, anything under General Mills- it was time for Dirty Santa.

No, you perves, it isn't "sick" or "wrong" or anything remotely akin to Rocky and Dr. Frank-en-Furter. Dirty Santa is quite simple. You make all the participants by a cheap-o gift that isn't really all that useful. If you're like most of the family, you forget to buy one and just pull something ugly out of the closet that you got from your in-laws. Then everybody takes turns picking a gift. If you actually want any of the stuff that was brought, you can take it from the person who has it. But, once the thing has been stolen three times, it's "frozen" which means that it can't be stolen anymore.

I got a HUGE pillow, Mom got a crappy Christmas DVD, and Dad got a jigsaw puzzle of rams.

Ah, well. If you think about it, Christmas isn't really about getting gifts or eating mashed potatoes. It's about family: putting up with the overcrowded tables, the sticky cousins, and the millions of people who seem to know you even though you can't remember their faces, let alone their names. And when you think about it, if you're in good company, the names don't really matter much. You just enjoy the moment with that person, and laugh with them, and stuff yourself with Magic Cookie Bars, because you can remember moments even if you can't remember names.

Phase One Complete.

Monday, December 5, 2011

New Shiny Settings and YouTube Science

Hello, everyone (meaning the only four followers that I have, whom I seriously doubt are reading this because they are productive adults that have better things to do). As I'm sure you've noticed, I tweaked the settings. I had altogether too much fun with this over the weekend, and I think it shows. :) I just felt it was necessary to point out the newness. SO, who wants to go on a tour? Well, suck it up, because we're doing it anyway!

You will notice on your left that I have a new gadget thingy for polls. Not poles, like the giant metal things that your tongue will get stuck to if Flick triple dog dares you to like it. I mean polls, like surveys. I will do a new one every week, and most of them will be random.

Now, over on your left, you see the "Quote of the Moment." It's not "Quote of the Day," or "Quote of the Week," or anything like that. The reason is, I might change the quote more or less frequently than a day, week, or month. So, this way I don't get any e-mails saying, "Why didn't you change the quote!?" Although they would be fun to answer....

And finally, on the bottom left, links! I was ridiculously proud of myself for figuring out how to make links, since I am incredibly technologically challenged. They're mostly links to sites I am a part of, but there is also a link to my sister's YouTube channel, which you should subscribe to, because she is brilliant and it will boost her morale. And the other YouTube link is to Charlie McDonnell's channel, more commonly known as charlieissocoollike.

Notice how I didn't link to my channel. That's because I don't use it. I had a video camera in middle school, and after about a week I got bored with it. Hee hee....

Charlie McDonnell is a Brit, and you should watch his videos. I'm serious. I learned more from that guy than I have in science class this whole year.

Maybe it's because his information is actually semi-useful. Or at least entertaining.

Okay, okay, so I pay attention in class to know that half of our classes would be more interesting with somebody who actually knows how to teach. But all of are classes are just notes, notes, notes. YUCK.

Especially chemistry. We haven't even made anything blow up yet!

Hmm... maybe that's part of the final.

SO, anyway, I'm going to close this with a link to Charlie McDonnell mocking Twilight, which is the most refreshing thing I have seen on YouTube in ages.

Charlie Reads Twilight

Toodles!

Friday, December 2, 2011

I'm Still Alive, I Pinky Swear

I haven't written anything since August. I'm sorry for being a Horrible Person, which I clearly am. I knew I wouldn't be consistent, but I was thinking I would make this a monthly thing.

In my defense, I recently switched schools, and now my workload has increased by about Infinity percent. So I don't have much spare time.

I swore when I started this thing that I wouldn't be one of those people who just creates a blog to rant about their lives (i.e., hunt for Mr. Right, pictures of funny shapes in their morning coffee, the weird thing their cat did yesterday). However, I don't exactly have much else to report.

So, school. School, school, school. Seems like that's all I have time for these days. For example, I'm writing this blog entry when I should be working on my research paper for English, or catching up in Geometry (I think that should count as a foreign language...), or studying for my AP History final, or working on my speech for Debate competition in January... see? I'm swamped. I'm not here to complain, though, so let's move on to the more interesting parts of my life.

My birthday was almost exactly a month ago. Still not driving... I've built up a mental block about it. It's not my fault though, really. Every time I get behind the wheel, all the cars around me change from shiny, not-really-there, Barbie doll accessories to heavy machines that have the potential to kill. You'd think my parents would be enthusiastic, but they aren't. I think they want me to tote them around for a change.

You'd also think they would be glad that I, unlike most of the teenagers of America, do not have a cell phone growing out of my thumbs. But apparently I need to be accessible, because someone made the brilliant decision to cut the land-line and give the Sixth Grade Rugrat a phone.

I'm sorry. Mattie isn't a rugrat, she's just artistic. And enthusiastic. And hyper. In a very loving way. Usually about the time when I'm working on my book. Not that I mind.

I also don't mind when I'm absorbed in creativity and character development, and people come in, suddenly concerned about my day.

I also don't mind when little sisters feel that it is necessary to blast Taylor Swift in the next room when I'm working on my English homework.

Apparently, there are a lot of things that I don't mind these days. I wish somebody had told me before I was shoved into these scenarios.

As a very, very wise author named Louise Rennison once wrote: "We are not a family. We are four people who, through great misfortune, live in the same house." Perhaps in my case it's hyperbolic, but I would still be a happier person if everyone just stayed in their little corner of the world and didn't interrogate me. And maybe we could socialize for thirty minutes in the evening.

My point is, if I'm not talking, I don't have anything to say. You'll know when I need to discuss my day, because words will be pouring out of my mouth so quickly that cops will pull us over and give me a speeding ticket.

And that's all I have to say at the moment.

Also, if you want to read an awesome blog with insights on cyber-bullying and why it is so despicable, check out this link: http://girloftheyearstudios.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-dont-understand-people.html