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Dear Internet:

Happy New Year’s Eve! For real this time. I thought it would be nice if I dropped you a line to let you know that you were far and away my biggest source of time wasting in 2007, and for that I thank you heartily. Like many people, I am not quite sure what I did in the time before the internet. Read books? Go outside? I have no idea. It sounds so boring, though. There could be a nuclear fallout but as long as people continue writing blogs I would remain blissful. Unless, of course, people wrote about their radiation poisoning and such. That might be distressing. Regardless, I will make a promise to you right now, dear world wide web, that in 2008 I will spend at least as much time with you as I do with my new little Wii. Mostly because I can spend time with you at work as well as at home, whereas it might be somewhat frowned upon if I were seen playing Wii tennis in my library.

I’m not much for resolutions; I know what needs to be done and what needs to change. I certainly don’t need to bore all my readers with my thoughts on constructive ways to transform my life. I do like the idea of a retrospective, though; it seems fitting that I share my highlights from 2007 since only some of you were there with me, and some have just started reading.

January: Finally bought my own URL. It would be months before I actually did anything with it, but still. I owned my own little piece of you, internets. Also, continued my trend of mocking George W. Bush.

February: Attended my first meeting of the 007 Bookclub and finally got to meet the lovely Kelli. Had the cutest Valentine’s meal ever.

March: Unknowingly entered a David Bowie lookalike contest.

April: Almost adopted a cat until we remembered we are both allergic to cats. But man, was she cute.

May: Discovered the most amazing book of all time. Wrote my first guest blog ever. Wrote my first commenter-inspired photo post.

June: Finally switched over to Wordpress. Hallelujah. Had one of my irrational fears validated.

July: Vacationed at the southernmost point of the United States. Also visited the ER.

August: Scared the bejesus out of myself and an elderly woman.

September: Considered moving back to the rural woods of New Hampshire. Bought a new car.

October: I deal with incompetent idiots. Also had my office “fixed”.

November: Wrapped up another entire month of posting for NaBloPoMo and once again, won exactly squat. Wrote my 30 for Thirty list, which I swear, I will get to.

December: Broke up a farting contest. Chris discovers that my new car has been dented in by our crappy neighbors, which, by the way, has been the bane of my existence for the past two weeks.

And so, dear Internet, ends another year of our love affair. You may not ever get down on one knee and ask me to marry you, but you sure are great at giving me a place to discuss the inanities of my life. Here’s to a 2008 full of sharing too much information with the general public. Cheers!

Love,

NPW

I must be out of my mind. All day I’ve been thinking, damn, I better get off my ass and stop playing this Wii because I have to get ready to party like a rock star tonight. The lure of Mario Galaxy is strong, people. Finally I dragged myself off the couch to call a few people and attempt to solidify plans for the Great New Year’s Party of 2007, and was bemusedly informed that it is not, in fact, New Year’s Eve tonight.

Have the video games addled my brain? Or was I always this easily confused? I can’t think about anything but how to save the Princess from the evil Bowser. I have Wii-itis. Hmm. Wii-itis. I like writing all those “i”’s all together.

Annnnyway, after numerous people laughed at me for believing tonight to be the end of 2007 I found myself feeling a little deflated. My vacation is almost over and all I have to show for it is hours of driving and video gaming. Our trip to Rochester was brief but successful, we managed to fit a lot of visiting (and eating) into a less-than-two-day trip. We saw Chris’s mom, brother, and niece. We saw some people from out of town who had also made the trek to upstate New York. I finally met the infamous Becky and her husband Dave over some Dino BBQ. We also saw the gracious Fran and her brood. Considering we gave everyone about two hours notice that we were coming, I’d say we did pretty well. By the time we showed up on Thursday night we had our choice of staying at Scott’s house, where he was two days in to a nasty stomach bug, or Denise’s apartment, where she was recovering from a sore throat so bad it was actually bleeding. We chose the sore throat factory and stopped at the grocery store to stock up on Lysol, antibacterial wipes, and doctor’s masks.

Now we’re back, sickness free (knock on wood), and with a whole extra day to be lazy because my internal calendar misinformed me. Maybe I’ll throw my own party this evening- I mean, we do have these:

Merry mother effing Christmas, holiday people! I am a regular bundle of joy today, and you want to know why? Because there was a certain sleek white piece of technology under the tree this morning from a certain Santa Christopher. No, not a Macbook, fools! A Wii! For mii! I mean, me! I know, I couldn’t believe it either. The grand surprise was only ruined for a second when I opened my sister’s present first, which happened to be a Wii card to buy games online, but whatever! Two words: Mario Galaxy. Also, my brief review of the Legend of Zelda: fun as hell. Of course, this means we now have in our household a Nintendo Wii, an Xbox 360, two Playstation 2s, two Nintendo DS’s and an Atari Flashback, not to mention two computers and another laptop on the way. Yeah, it’s probably a good thing I have to work to earn a wage, otherwise the next time someone saw me I’d probably be clutching the Wii to my chest hissing “My preciousssssss”.

Of course, I ended up with a lot of loot besides the Wii, it’s just so hard to remember through the haze of electronics… oh yeah. I got a bunch of clothes from my Mom, and somehow, amazingly, they all fit and look cute. Chris also got me Goonies and Neverending Story on DVD (awesome), some cool new mixing bowls, and a bunch of other goodies. As for the Mister, about a month ago I bought us plane tickets for a trip to Denver in April and I’ve been keeping it secret until today. I was very happy (and relieved) that Chris was as excited about the trip as I am. I also got him a bad ass Diesel watch, an electric kettle, and a few other various items that he never knew he wanted but was thrilled to receive. My parents indulged his new Xbox love and bought him Assassin’s Creed, which I guess is about Arabs sword fighting in the desert or something. At least, that’s what I got from the picture on the game box. The actual book for the game looked dense and intimidating. I prefer happy games that involve magical dinosaurs named Yoshi.

Chris’s favorite gift though? A $2 wooden dinosaur skeleton that you put together with a little motor so that it walks and roars. Unfortunately, he opened that one early on in the unwrapping process, so he was slightly inconvenienced by receiving gifts whilst fitting together cheap wooden bits. In the end, he used it to scare my parents cats and a good time was had by all.

Now we’re back at our place after returning from our overnight adventure in the wild woods of New Hampshire. Back to the familiar soothing sounds of me typing away on the computer and Chris incinerating zombies on the Xbox. I almost can’t believe that my vacation is almost half over, but there’s still a lot to come when we head out to Rochester later this week. I am looking forward to a garbage plate, visiting with people, and freezing my butt off in those lake effect winds. (Maybe not in that order.) We shall return in time for the New Year’s festivities, though what those might be we are not yet certain. Do you think there’s a Wii game where you can make your own cocktails and fireworks?

I’m feeling very overwhelmed today. Actually, I’ve been feeling very overwhelmed all week, but I am trying to take it one day at a time here so that my brain does not explode out of the top of my skull and splatter the children in the library. I can just imagine the letters I’d get from parents about that. Anyway, I’d like to take a page from Stefanie and do this post up Friday Fives style, so I hope she doesn’t mind that I am blatantly stealing her idea.

First, I would like to note that yesterday was ridiculous. We had a one-hour delay at school, and even with that extra time I still managed to be late because the sheet of ice formerly known as my windshield required a good 30 minutes of scraping. Then there was the traffic and the accidents, in addition to the accumulating snow and ice. So I got to school around 8:45, and just started putting everything into place when we got the announcement that the Superintendent was releasing us early because of the snow. That had been falling already for six hours. So we left at 11. Two hours of work is not worth my drive out of the city, people, and after getting stuck in the shit storm that was last Thursday’s commute I was ALL SET with that happening again. Whatever. I did manage to get to Target, which was a bonus, but then was in my pajamas by 4 p.m. Will you never end, snow?

Second: an apology. I am sorry I am the worst blog commenting friend ever lately. Does it make any difference to you that I am really, really trying? I didn’t think so. But somehow, despite my bad friendness, I still managed to win a “special” award from the infamous Mickey, which I am honored to receive. Thanks, dude. You are a testament to the fact that I can retain male readers for longer than a day. Oh, and your blog rocks.

Thirdly! I am worried about some gifts that I ordered that might not make it here in time for C-mas. I would say that I should have ordered them earlier, but that would make me sound like a slacker and I am not! I ordered them way back on December 5th. So help me, if I have to wrap pictures of presents…

Foursy. Is anyone else excited to see Sweeney Todd? I totally thought I was sick of the Johnny Depp/Helena Bonham Carter/Tim Burton trio, but I love Sweeney Todd and the reviews are amazing. Nothing says “peaceful holidays” like a demon barber slitting customer’s throats mixed with a dash of cannibalism.

Fiveroo- All I have to do is make it through today and I am a free woman! Until January 3rd, that is. I have the sneaking suspicion that I am not going to be up for regular posting while on holiday because really, I don’t know that I’ll make it off the couch long enough to type anything. But never fear, I am sure there will come a time when I am bored of watching Christmas specials and drinking peppermint cocoa, or when Chris orders to me to sit up before I get couch sores, and I will likely reach for the computer to regale you all with stories of my awesome Christmas presents. But until that time comes, I hope you all have lovely and relaxing holidays and even better time off of work.

Peace out.

Surprise! More snow! I’m going to let you in on a little-known secret about living in the city of Boston when it snows more than a dusting: it sucks. On an average day the city streets are narrow and twisty, meant for horses and sleighs, not minivans and Hummers. Once it snows and the the city realizes, “Oh right! There is NOWHERE TO PUT IT” it’s too late. It just sits in the street in dirt-colored piles until it gets warm enough to melt into giant puddles just perfect for stepping into in dress shoes on your way to work while it’s still dark out.

If you look outside your window during a snow storm in Boston you might see what appears to be a community of people coming together to shovel the sidewalks, driveways, and paths to the street in order to make their neighborhood a better place to live despite the icy slush and snow drifts. Or, if you have lived in the city for long enough (like me) you will see the true sitch: people shoveling out spots for their car on the street, on to which they will then drag folding chairs, cones, barrels, recycling bins, their grandma- anything to keep someone else from parking in the spot they shoveled out. On a public street.

In the first years of living in the city I had the luxury of a garage spot which is almost unheard of here. So it wasn’t until I began parking on the street that those cones and chairs in the street angered me. I wanted to kick them down, I wished I had eight cars just so I could park in every single one of those stupid spots. How did people get away with it? I demanded of friends in the city. It’s a public street! If you want your own spot, pay someone the $150 a month and park in a garage! Then I started hearing the horror stories of people parking in the marked off spots and getting their tires slashed, their doors and hoods keyed, windshields smashed in, spray painted, missing hubcaps. The list goes on.

So I still get the urge to kick the cones aside, but I steer clear of parking in those spaces. And even though I shovel out my spot every storm so that I can get to work, I refuse to mark that territory off. I will not stoop to your level, jerks!

And also, I would not fare well doing jail time on vandalism charges, so it’s better all around that I stick to whining about it here, yes?

On the news this morning I heard a story that occured in a town about twenty minutes north of the city. Apparently, a man driving a truck had become so enraged while trying to navigate traffic that he had rolled down his window and hurled a giant hammer at one of the other cars, smashing it’s windshield. My first reaction was, I sure hope someone beat him with that hammer. My second, less violent, reaction was, I sure hope they took his license away and sent him to a series on anger management. Can you imagine? Merry Christmas, bitches, and here’s a hammer to your windshield.

Sigh.

This morning a group of seventh grade boys decided that the library at 7:15 a.m. was a great place to have a Fart-Off. And while I could not hear the farting, I could hear the giggling. Boy giggles mean trouble for librarians, so I started towards them to investigate. As I approached the nearest boy I could see his eyes get really wide and panicky and he took off towards the cafeteria. I grimly thought to myself, this can’t be good. The rest of the group was packed close together, but everyone else in the library was giving them wide berth.

At the same time that I heard a HUGE fart erupt from a boy no taller than four feet the wall of smell hit me. My immediate physical reaction was to literally run backwards from them while squinting through tears. I saw the offending stinker turn red when he saw me, signaling to the others in the group to stop, hold their farts! But it was too late. Two other boys let rip like they had been practicing synchronization for months. It was too much. For the first time in three years I actually raised my voice above a pleasant tone (not quite yelling, but just barely restrained). All I could manage was: “OUT. All of you, OUT. Wait outside the Principal’s office.”

I always thought that if/when I had children I would want boys. Sure, they’re messy and they don’t have as many cute clothes to choose from, but at least they don’t become raging hormonal crazy people as quickly or intensely as girls. I guess I never fully thought of the consequences of living day in and day out with a thirteen year old boy, but the truth is: they are gross. I took a few deep breaths (away from the Fart-Off Arena) and headed off to lecture the boys before the Principal found a group of eight children waiting outside his office for farting. Because even though I had no idea how to begin a lecture on public flatulence, I had even less of an idea as to how to explain to the Principal that I just don’t appreciate the humor in an early morning Fart Spectacle.

Thank Jesus they were more embarrassed than I was. I was definitely not equipped to deal with middle school attitudes and a stinky library so close to vacation. But you should be proud of me: I didn’t laugh once. At least, not until all the boys had gone back to class.

Whooo boy. I am surrounded by old ladies. Currently two of them are arguing about the price of passport renewals and one is on the phone to her husband. I just caught her telling him, “Do not get up, you will break your hip I tell you! I don’t need a husband with a broken spine and a broken hip!” Oh, now she’s on the phone with the highway department complaining about the ice buildup on her road, telling them to bring salt and sand immediately because she and her husband are elderly and cannot get to their mailbox and how, exactly, is she going to put her garbage out? I can almost hear the highway department receptionist rolling her eyes.

Okay, she just informed me that she knew a great knock-knock joke. “You start,” she said.

Me: Err… okay. Knock knock.
Old Lady: Who’s there?
Me: …
OL: …
Me: …
OL: Ha ha ha! That is the joke! You see? I caught you off guard.
Me: …

She chuckled to herself a bit more then looked at me with her milky cataract eyes and said soberly, “My husband fell down the stairs and broke his spine and his palate. They had to wire his jaw shut. He’s 78, you know, but he hates lying down all day. I bought him one of those Neeentendos, you know of them? It is little. My children will buy him games to play with this Neeentendo.”

I don’t know whether to admire her for going into Toys R’ Us at Christmas time and buying a Nintendo DS for her elderly husband or whether it means she is certifiably cracked. Regardless, I hope she thinks of me while she’s out shopping for Nintendo products and picks me up a Wii; I need me some Mario Galaxy.

Then the another one came in to tell me she bought her neighbor a lovely gold-rimmed plate she had seen on the television, which was only 6 payments of $29.99 and came with a set of U.S. quarters from every state.  I’m hoping she forgets to give me a present this year. Then again, maybe Chris would enjoy me serving him dinner on a $180 plate.

So when I left you on Thursday I was off to the Quiz Bowl, ready to kick some Catholic school ass. I guess I didn’t take into account the strict studying schedule those religious kids follow because seriously: we lost SO BAD. And my kids are way smart, too. We came in dead last, but to be fair, we would have done much better if we hadn’t been disqualified entirely from the map section. Ummm, yeah. My kids had brought maps to study on the bus and had them out during the portion where they had to fill in a blank map. I don’t know what they were thinking; the only thing I can say in their defense is that the map they had out would not have helped them fill in the blank map since it had none of the information they needed, and also, they seemed genuinely shocked that they shouldn’t have those maps with them.

We’ll just chalk this all up to a learning experience, I suppose. But man, it sucks to lose.

When we got back to school from the Quiz Bowl the Principal made an announcement that he would be releasing us twenty minutes early because of the impending snow storm. As I left to clean off my car he called over to me, “How did the kids do at the Quiz Bowl?” I waved cheerfully at him and pretended I couldn’t hear him over the din of my ice scraping. Then I hopped in my car and proceeded to make the longest commute home, ever. Apparently I was not the only brilliant person in New England that left work early to avoid the storm. My normal 25 minute commute turned into an epic journey lasting well over two hours. It was snowing so hard that it turned to ice on my windshield immediately and then got caught on my wipers, making it impossible to see anything but brake lights once I got within two inches of them. Then I had to park in a public lot about five blocks away from my house and trudge through a foot of sludge, sleet, and plowed snow piles up the hill to my house. I won’t lie; it was horrible. And I am used to bad weather.

On Friday I had the day off so that I could head down to NYC to meet up with Chris. I thought for sure after that commute from hell that there would be no school on Friday anyway and was confused when I woke up at 9 a.m. Friday morning without getting the snow day call. Also, Chris was already on the train home because there was no way we would be driving back and forth to Manhattan after I had sat on 93 for hours the evening before. Instead, we spent the evening playing Chris’s new Xbox and ordering Chinese food. Saturday was cold and beautiful and we ventured out to do some errands, ending up in the holiday traffic from hell. We camped out at Costco for a while until it cleared up a little and then, once again, spent the evening watching TV and playing Xbox. I can feel my ass getting bigger as I type.

This morning we woke up to a white out and another foot of snow. I wasn’t feeling too upset about it- it was pretty, and besides, Chris said he would clean my car off for me while I remained toasty inside. When he returned from his urban snowventure of shoveling he informed me that my car’s bumper had a big dent in it from our trashy neighbor. I was pretty excited about my new car being smashed up, I mean,  it’s not every day you get to deal with crappy neighbors and insurance companies. I didn’t even leave the couch to look at it, just curled up tighter in the blankets and refused to come out until the raging headache I had developed went away.

Did I mention I chose this weekend to quit my coffee addiction? Timing is everything, people.

My saving grace is that tomorrow begins my last week of work until I have off for thirteen glorious days. I’m hoping that vacation includes something a little more active than Xbox; pretty soon I won’t even be able to heft myself out the door at all and Chris will have to call Dr. Phil to coax me off the couch with life-affirming threats and mockery. And that will be a sad, sad day.

Just a quick note today because we have our first real Quiz Bowl match today against a rival school and I have to get my stuff together. Field trips are hard, yo. They might even be more trouble than they’re worth. It’s only the joy of seeing my little nerdlets so excited that makes it seem okay. Who doesn’t love seeing a little bespectacled child do a dance of joy that they know where the Bering Strait is? No one, that’s who.

Unfortunately, we here in the greater Boston area are scheduled to get a Nor’easter today, dropping about nine inches of snow on our heads. I’m just hoping that all the academic fun is over by the time it starts to really come down because I can think of a lot of things that are better than being stuck on a school bus during a snow storm. The storm may also put a crimp in my NYC plans since we are supposedly receiving yet another large storm on Saturday night.  The only thing worse than being stuck on a school bus in a snow storm is trying to drive yourself from NYC to Boston in a snow storm.

So wish my kiddies luck and I’ll catch you dudes Friday or Monday, depending on my mood once I shovel my car out of a plowed-in street spot.

I was washing my hands in the bathroom at school yesterday when I happened to glance up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I try to avoid the mirrors at school because looking in them is like looking into a portal to Hell where all you can see is how pale and dry your skin is and just how dark those circles under your eyes can get when backlit by fluorescent bulbs, but worst of all, I just kept coming back to the hair. What, had a bird nested in it earlier in the day? How did it look like that and no one said anything to me? And even though I had a meeting after school I knew I would not feel right until I had made an appointment to get it cut and at least try to appear respectable at my holiday party today. It just doesn’t do to look like a cracked out homeless person in the yearbook. Two years in a row.

So I called around a bit and ended up scoring an appointment at the place I usually go but with a different stylist. I always get nervous when I show up for an appointment with someone else that my usual stylist will be there and will shout obscenities at me from across the room. It’s a bit like cheating on someone right in front of their face. Luckily my normal person wasn’t even there so I relaxed a bit and had a glass of wine, happy that I had skipped a library meeting to get my hair did. I’m a rebel like that. When my new stylist lady was ready I whipped out a bunch of photos of haircuts that I liked, bracing for the inevitable “I’m sorry, but there is no way your hair would ever look that nice” speech.

To my surprise and delight, the stylist was very amenable to my opinions and said she thought my hair would look great in any of those styles. And dammit, I didn’t even care if she was lying, it was nice to have a stylist agree with what I want for once. And then she proceeded to cut it exactly how I wanted it. And then it looked cute. And she told me it looked cute. How novel!

Of course, then I walked out into the pouring rain and I thought all might be lost because I would never again be able to style it the way that she had, but lo and behold, I got home and blew it out and it looked cute again! I still had a few moments of panic when I realized that I had cut bangs that would take a thousand years to grow out, but whatever; the important thing is that I look cute now. I’ll worry about the consequences later. Even Chris agreed it looks cute, and he usually doesn’t even notice that I had my hair cut unless I’ve completely shaved my head. Which has never happened, so… yeah. He said I look just like Violet from A Charlie Brown Christmas:

 

Did I mention that I love her bun? She’s totally the hipster librarian-in-training. She doesn’t have the glasses, yet, but that’s only because she is young and hasn’t already spent years and years squinting at spine labels.

In other news, Chris left this morning for New York, where I will be meeting him on Friday. It will be a busy busy weekend but I’m looking forward to getting away for a bit. And bonus: I will have bangs in all my pictures!

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