This day has been such a long time in the making, I feel like there should be a parade or at least a commemorative plaque and an anthem, sang in rousing tribute to moderation! And to fiber! These jeans, they are nothing special, really, except I do appreciate them for maintaining their deep indigo color and that sweet little perma-crease over the years. But they do not, in any way, resemble mom jeans and they fit nicely for that, I could do back flips. You know, if I could summon the energy.

Also, my bum looks pretty great.

Aside from the sexy phlegm (which is mostly a waste since I don’t make a career on my voice), the flu has left me with this hacking cough that keeps me awake by night and annoys my poor coworkers by day. Like my friend said, coughing is some serious exercise and seeing as I cough myself dizzy at least three times an hour, I’m getting the workout of my life. And I’m totally exhausted. But I’m wearing jeans I don’t hate!

I’m not going to whine about how really awful the flu is because, duh. If you’ve had it, you know how bad it is. And if you haven’t had it, you know it’s bad enough you don’t want it. But let’s, just for a second, talk about the flu test. That thing really hurts. I don’t know if the doctor who saw me was under-practiced or just lacked finesse, but when she said she was going to swab my nostrils with that long cotton swab, I didn’t understand that her end goal was to grab a sample of my BRAIN. First I said the eff word and then I cried. I couldn’t not cry.

Coughing up fifty bucks for Tamiflu hurt less than the flu test – and you KNOW how I feel about unbudgeted spending.

There are some other things I’m working on, that I plan to continue with enthusiasm in the new year – and the new decade (I wrote a check yesterday dated January 1, and wouldn’t you know, I got the year right on my first try. THAT will be difficult to maintain), and here they are in no particular order:

Variety. I cooked with parsnips the other day. Parsnips! I’d never done that before. I’m going to try to add a new ingredient or recipe to my arsenal a few times a month now because boy, those two crazy little root vegetables sure did make me feel exotic.

Patience. Learning how to be part of a functional, happy couple has meant I’ve had to make a lot of mental adaptations. Giving up the sick addiction to constant disappointment I’d formed over the years has been a lot harder than you would imagine. Even harder than that, though, has been giving up the need for control over every aspect of my own sphere – the direction and time line my life follows. I’m trying to be more patient. 

“You’re buttering me up!”

“Is it working?”

“Well, yes. Of course it is.”

“Good. I’m gonna go kill some terrorists.”

And as the sweet melody of Modern Warfare II rang out in our apartment, I trimmed some roses, grabbed a new book, and headed upstairs to the No Carnage Zone. I’ll say one thing for those violent video games – they sure make me glad when we switch to sports. You know, the lesser of two weevils.

I also saw Master and Commander for the first time this weekend. Clearly.

Although I got up this morning and went to yoga, the minute I got home and saw the animals dozing in the sunny patches on the carpet, I decided that I was doing Christmas Vacation all wrong, what with my productivity and all. And just as I began enjoying my day off the way it’s supposed to be enjoyed – like a true sloth in pajamas, curled up on the couch – the dog decided to get tangled up in the patio blinds, ripping them off the wall and sending them crashing to the ground. I don’t know what else to do but shake my head and pretend it never happened. I’ll deal with it later. Right now, I have other important things to do like watch Snow White and eat truffles.

I hope your holiday was lovely. Get ready, cause tomorrow we’ll talk New Years Resolutions. I figure we need some time to prepare ones that are reasonably attainable and if not, easily forgettable.

Last night, I wrapped gifts (okay, gift. One singular gift. The rest happen to fit neatly into pre-decorated containers that require neither artsy-craftiness nor paper cuts) and declared Christmas ready to roll. Even if I wasn’t done buying gifts, I was done. Though I’m pretty sure my weekend happened, I don’t remember much of it, except a whirlwind of errands and way, way too much time spent in the car – all well earned punishment for waiting until the last minute and not ordering every single thing online. When will I learn, I ask you?

If history is any indication (it took me until I was 25 to learn how to wink with my left eye) the education process will be long and drawn out.

Now that everything’s wrapped up, I’m actually starting to feel a wee tingle of Christmas excitement. Funny, when I was a kid, the excitement was all about presents, but these days, every bit of my growing anticipation has to do with having five whole days off at home to sleep in (WAY in. Like, 9AM!), putter around the apartment, go to yoga and veg out to such fine holiday films as White Christmas and Meet Me in St. Louis (Louis, meet me at the fair!).

I’m going to interrupt with something totally off topic, but I just read something on People.com about Lisa Loeb getting an eyewear line. Which makes total sense! In 1996.

Anyway, I don’t really make Christmas wish lists – that sorta thing makes me very uncomfortable. But when both my mother and the Boy’s father asked that I outline something specific – my mother, clothing or shoes; the Boy’s father, DVDs – that I’d like to find under the tree, I actually took a lot of joy in thinking about what I’d really like to own, that I wouldn’t buy for myself: Reebok’s new Make Your Bum Hotter sneakers and classic Disney films, like Snow White.

Christmas morning will find me a much more complete person, I just know it.