Fa la la la la la

After my supernutritious lunch of Italian and Mexican, all that's left to anticipate is Captain Tom's Fried parade for dinner. Of course, if I could shore up the courage, I'd just get the durned oysters and try that, but I can't eat anything that looks like "a giant booger," to quote Joey Tribbiani. That's not to say I couldn't shut my eyes, but then, I have this problem of an overfertile imagination.

Yesterday was my dad's birthday; he turned 61. I called him and left a message on the answering machine comprised of three of my ESL students singing him "Happy Birthday" at the tops of their lungs. Hilarious... he loved it. Today's my aunt's birthday, which reminds me that I have to call her. I think she's 38 today. Time marches on... arugh.

I didn't get to see the "hunky Latino" last night... he played raquetball too late, and I was out for dinner at B's house until ten o'clock... and we live 25 miles apart (he and I... B and I live four miles apart). Tonight, I've got the boat with J, and then I'm making Christmas cookies for the aformentioned ESL kids with M... somewhere in there I have to run about five different errands... let's hope. I've meant to go to the hardware store for over a week now... and the other errands are all contingent on something (I have to go to the bank only if I get the last payment from the guy who bought my TV... I have to go to the postal store only if I first manage to get a gift certificate from the Olive Garden...).

With cookies tonight, I doubt that I'll see the "hunky Latino" tonight, either, although I've learned not to count on what seems to be, at least where he's concerned.

Day One... Eleven Days before Christmas

Welcome to my mind... I've never done this before, or even read these things before, but maybe that will be a good thing... fresh meat? A regular transfusion in online blogdom?

I'm sitting here at work at the moment, thinking I need to go to the lounge where my mail is to retrieve some presents from students who told me already that they're there. Butter cake. My thighs are screaming in protest, but I've already got people begging me to pass the cake to them (though I've already earmarked with whom I want to share it). My thighs can rest easy. I got two other presents today, one from my coworker across the way (a cat picture frame) and another from my secret santa. That was a Christmas tree pin that I actually really like... and upon analyzing the handwriting inside of the card and on its envelope, I can tell that different people wrote each thing. Someone is trying to confuse me. As life confuses me enough, I have no real interest in wondering who gave me the pin.

I'm also hungry. Lunch was four gingerbread men and a peanut butter sandwich... and I had two bite-sized kit kats that I found in the front office (one of our elementary feeder schools sent over an entire crate of candy yesterday... it's 95% gone, which goes to show what locusts teachers are).

So. I'm sitting here with a coat on ready to traverse the parking lot from my portable classroom to go to the lounge and get more presents. But I'm procrastinating. Tis the season.

Tonight, I'm going to my friend B's house for a Christmas dinner where I am bringing dessert (pumpkin cake) which is baked but not frosted... and I need to mail presents home to my family... and I need to go to the hardware store to pay a bill and buy water filters... and tomorrow is payday, which I am celebrating with J at Captain Tom's... Thursday is pizza night with P and S at Napoli's Flying Pizza... where's the budgeted quality time on the treadmill to offset all this eating? Tis the season.

What I really want to do is see my "hunky Latino" (as my friend K calls him), but with all of these dining plans, I fear my evenings are entirely consumed... hmmm, am I compelling enough for him to make the trek across town? He's free tonight... maybe I should invite him.