So, I got home tonight, and was given some sad strange news.
I no longer have a bed.
It was always the plan that Britt and Nate were going to take my bed after my sister left, and I would have somewhere to sleep. But apparently it worked out for them to take it today. . .while I was gone (very tricky guys). . .so I actually have no bed.
I really want to sleep right now. . . but I can't.
I am kinda confused. I don't actually know what to do.
I have no bed.
And I'm tired.
I am making a bed right now though. It's taking me forever because school was crazy and I couldn't work on it.
Maybe I'll do that tomorrow.
Oh, and if all else fails. . . I'm going to get my parents to buy me a race car bed.
As I said before, I was in the city today. My sister and I were riding on the BART train, and it was one of those times when we were underground, and trying to talk to each other would be pointless. My ear drums were about to explode from the pressure. Apparently not as badly as the couple across from us who would close their eyes and plug their ears every time we went underground. Weird.
Anyway, as I was sitting there, I was looking at the woman standing next to me, and she had this little dog keychain. I immediately thought of my friend Rebecca. She was my best friend from 4rd to 7th grade. We went to the same church, and she lived just down the street from me.
We were inseparable. I was either at her house, or she was at my house. . all. . .the. . .time.
We loved walking to 7-11 to buy slurpees, or going to Claire's to look at the jewelry (best day ever was when they had their 10 things for 10 dollars deal. . .we almost died). We rode our bikes EVERYWHERE.
We only got into two fights the whole time we were friends.
both times over money.
We loved to make movies together, make up funny dances, and play "pranks" on her brother. Like the time I spent the night at her house, and we threw Kraft American Cheese slices into his room at 2 am. We thought it was hilarious.
Our favorite thing to do was play with stuffed animals. Mainly, beanie babies. The one pictured above, his name is Dakota.
This one time we spent weeks building a house for the different animals out of card board boxes and fabric scraps.
She was my best friend.
She moved when we were in 7th grade. We were going to write each other everyday.
I wish that had worked out.
The last time I saw her, the last time I REALLY saw her, was when we went swimming at the hotel they were staying at before they moved.
It was so hard.
I wish I knew just how hard it really was.
We went to their hotel room and watched the end of Big Daddy. I still hate that movie.
My dad came and picked me up.
Neither of us cried.
I cried. In the car.
I saw her once a couple years later, when she came to visit family in the area.
We had nothing to talk about.
I almost felt like I couldn't wait for her to leave, it was so awkward.
I was babysitting for my sister, just my oldest niece was born at the time.
We were coloring.
Their phone rang, and I saw that it was my home phone number.
It was my mom.
My mom called to tell me that Rebecca had been killed in a car accident. She was on her way to work when a drunk driver came into her lane. Thankfully, she lived long enough to call her mom. She was rushed to the hospital, but didn't make it.
That was my best friend. My very best friend. The friend that I shared so much with.
And even though we hadn't talked for years, I miss her. I miss her more than I could have ever imagined.
So I went to the city today, and had lunch with my sister and grandparents. It was SO much fun. I love them, and it was nice to have some more personal time with them. Usually when I see them it's with my whole family, so this was nice. It reminded me of when I was little and I would go stay with them for a week. Those are probably some of my most vivid memories from my childhood.
Anyway, the most hilarious thing was said. . I'm not sure if anyone else thinks it's funny, but I do.
Farmor (Grandma): *puts lid on left over salad before throwing it away* I'm going to put this lid on just incase a homeless person finds it.
Farfar (Grandpa): . . . That is thinking VERY optimistically, Barbro.
I don't know why that cracked me up so much, but it did.
Our plan is to have it tomorrow morning. . . which means I'm waking up at 6. . .which means I should have fallen asleep many hours ago for me to be well rested tomorrow. Oops.
Anyway, my mom was making sure before she went to bed that I got the Lucia crown and everything ready, and she says. . .
"you need to have everything ready tonight for tomorrow, because if we don't have it tomorrow, we can't have it. I'm gone on Saturday, and it just wont work any other time. You guys CAN'T do it on Saturday if I'm not there, or so help me, none of you are going to get any Christmas presents, and I'm going to return them all to the store."
"Ahhhh, if you have any Christmas fun without me I will take away your presents, aaahhhhhh"
I love you mom.
Oh, and I did get everything ready.
I'll post pictures of the day later. Apparently Maddy doesn't want to be Lucia this year (yesssss) so I get to do it (yyessssss).
I'm going to talk about my love of Christmas. Not the giddy love of Christmas, but why I get giddy about Christmas and why I think everyone else should too.
There are so many reasons. . .
I've grown up in a very Christmasy family. We decorate a lot, and celebrate many many traditions.
Christmas movies, cookies, Lucia Day, door chocolates, gingerbread houses, paper chains, snow flakes, games, and just spending massive amounts of time together so at the end of December we might throw up if we have to look at someone in our family ever again.
We always get a real tree, and decorate it. . . the night usually ends with Maddy crying because I moved where she put one of the ornaments (I'm sorry, there are some things my OCD does not allow. . .two ornaments on the same branch? No.)
These aren't all the reasons I get giddy about Christmas.
My family is Swedish, and being Swedish, we celebrate Christmas with my dad's family on Christmas Eve. This involves great things, great food, drinking songs, dancing around the house, a visit from Tomte (AKA creepy creepy santa), gift exchanges, laughter and speeches.
These aren't the reasons I get giddy about Christmas either.
Christmas day is so fun, we wake up early, open our stockings, laugh, drink yummy things, eat yummy things, lay around in our PJs until we are so disgusted with ourselves that we MUST get dressed. We wait for the rest of the family to come over, the kids always bring their favorite present to show off, the house is festive and excited for the happiest day of the year. We open presents from each other, eat more yummy food, laugh more, laugh harder, die from laughing, usually more yummy food is eaten here. The night goes on until we are all too tired, or the kids have had a melt down.
These still aren't the reason I get giddy about Christmas.
Sure, I love all these things, I love the season and joy, and kindness it brings.
But the reason I can enjoy any of these things is because I can first and foremost celebrate the birth of a tiny baby that would grow up, live a perfect life, and die for me.
That is why I'm giddy. Christmas means that I have life, and I have a joy that will never die.
My savior, the king of my life, was born.
"And it was always said that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that truly be said of us, and all of us."
Once upon a time there was a ceramics student named Emily. She made these wonderful casserole dishes for one of her finals projects. She was very proud of them. When she brought them home to show her mom, what should she find in not one, but two of the casserole dishes, but a boys number and email address. She wasn't sure why he would ever think it necessary to put his phone number in two different dishes. Perhaps he thought that she would be more likely to call if he was persistent.
She didn't know what to do. She was very upset at the thought of so many pansy boys out there, not being man enough to ask out a girl directly. She thought, "he was in my class all semester, and he waits until he knows the only way he would see me again is if I would call him".
"No, no, this wont do" she thought. "I need a man. He was creepy anyway."
"Ah, well, he'll forget about me soon", she thought.