Dreams Do Come True

On the Eve of Christmas Bella and Bear donned their elf pajamas and

we gathered round the Christmas Tree and read The Night Before Christmas.

On December 25th at 2am Bear awoke and saw that Santa had arrived, but went back to bed and waited patiently.

The table was set in the morning and a feast was had,

after which we tore into the presents:

When it was my turn it was not the necklace that I had asked for that was my favorite. It was a rectangular shaped box from my mother that had a card attached which read

As I tore into the package I realized what was inside despite my tear rimmed eyes.

At almost twenty-seven years old my mother got me the gift that I had always dreamed and ask for as a child.

 

This Christmas I learned dreams can come true for anyone at any age.

 

The 12 Days of Kissass

On the first day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

a big pile of agony.

 

On the second day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

two paranoid co-workers

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the third day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the fourth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the fifth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the sixth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the seventh day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the eight day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the ninth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the tenth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

ten copiers a-copying,

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the eleventh day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

eleven beepers beeping,

ten copiers a-copying,

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the twelfth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

twelve tattlers tattling,

eleven beepers beeping,

ten copiers a-copying,

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

 

 

Featured Image Snowbow from Jenny Downing’s Flickr

The Best Gift for Your Co-Worker

Yesterday, my office had our annual holiday party. Now don’t get too excited, this just means for three hours during the work day (over lunch) you’re allowed to socialize and eat the food you provided. Then when you’re all full of Midwestern goodies you have to go back to work immediately afterwards. I had been waiting eagerly for this day so I could present the Campaign Coordinator her Christmas gift. The concept turned out to be quite timely since she had to miss the holiday party due to her own Horrible Boss.

I hereby present you with the best gift to give your co-worker:

The Horrible Bosses Gift Pack:

Horrible Bosses DVD

Chapstick: For all the ass kissing

Hand Sanitizer: For all the hand holding

Starbucks Gift Card: To stay awake in meetings

Excedrin Migraine: After all the stupid questions

Godiva Truffles:  To eat away the pain

Beer*: To not remember the day

Needless to say she actually had to pop two Excedrin during the day. I patted myself on the back for this thoughtful and creative gift.

*Original Concept was wine, but she doesn’t drink wine so I adapted.

 

I also received an absolutely astounding gift from my dear friend, E. Inspired by my creativity he went all out for my present putting my season 1 of West Wing to shame.

The Breaking Bad Gift Pack

Awesome handmade gift wrap with my elemental initials

Seasons 1 & 2 of Breaking Bad

Bag of Blue (M&Ms)

Spoon, Lighter, and snorter

Prescription bottle of M&Ms

Pill of the Day container of M&Ms

 

I loved it.

 

So what great creative gifts did you give/receive this holiday season?

Proud.

I very rarely talk about controversial issues. However, I have posted my thoughts on gender and gay marriage before. I have always been clear about it. There is nothing that I find more disgusting then when someone tries to tell another person who they can and can’t love. You have no right to tell my friends who they can be or be with and I will go to my grave fighting for them. One of my best friends, the GodMummy, is getting married in 2013. I will be her bridesmaid. Bear, her godson, will be a ring bearer and if I have my way Bella will be one of the flower girls too. There is nothing that makes me more proud than to be able to stand next to her as she gets married to her wife. As a mother, nothing makes me happier than to show my children firsthand that marriage and love are gender irrelevant.

My mother and I had a big argument about gender on Saturday. As I drove the hour to meet a friend of mine I called her and flouted the idea of me going to Greece with a friend of mine. A male friend of mine. Her reaction was tantamount to me declaring my decision to run a brothel. The problem was not that I was going on vacation, not that I was going without the H, but that I was going with a man. Yes, on the surface I understand why this is perceived as odd. I get it, but her reaction was disproportionate to the situation. Who cares what gender my friend is. He is in fact, just a friend. Our conversation took a severe left turn about the differences in gender and I stood by my belief that there shouldn’t be any.

This is how our conversation went:

Men and women are just different. Men don’t wear makeup.

But they can and if they wanted to, they should.

But that’s wrong.

Why, why is it wrong?

Because it is.

But why?

You’re saying if you went to the bank and the male teller had on make up that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable?

No.

If the H wanted to wear eye shadow you’d be fine with it?

I’d take him to Sephora.

Well would you pee in a store?

Um no.

Why?

Well because its wrong.

Exactly.

To be clear, you’re comparing a man wearing makeup to urinating in a store?

 

Needless to say, we never came to a resolution.

So what do you think: Do you think a man and woman can be friends and go on a vacation together? Do you think men can wear makeup? What are your thoughts on public urination?

Yesterday. Today.

cour·age/ˈkərij/ Noun: 

    The ability to do something that frightens one.

    Strength in the face of pain or grief.

Where does one find courage within themselves? Do we have a reservoir hiding in the crook of our elbow, behind our knees, in some other hard to reach often missed spot?

I am digging to find it. My hands are raw and torn, the dirt tucked deep under my fingernails. But I am left empty handed. Instead this thumping heart. Instead this nervousness parading through my blood stream. Where is this courage you speak of?

Yesterday, I read a statistic that 1 in 5 women have been raped.

My breath quickened.  The sharp intakes of air rushing through my lungs.

Yesterday, I read Jo’s post on ViolenceUnsilenced. I had read it before on Band Back Together. I have met Jo; I have held her super adorable baby girl in my arms and smelled the top of her little blonde head. I have met this person whose courage flowed through her pores.

I read her story again with my breath on pause, my eyes unblinking.

Yesterday, I remembered.

My palms heated and moist were scrubbed furiously. My throat on fire.

Yesterday, I was silent.

Slowly the ache inside of me grew, spreading through me, cracking skin and exposing wounds long since scabbed.

Today, I pressed send.

Felt the air escape from my body, leaving me breathless and hollow.

Today, I did the bravest most frightening thing I’ve ever done.

I told a secret I have held close for most of my life.

Now, we wait.