December 30, 2004
So This Is the New Year and I Don't Feel Any Different
A year ago I did not make resolutions, but I did in September. They were brief and very much focused on improving myself for the betterment of just myself rather than improving myself for the betterment of those around me. Consequently, I found these much easier to fulfill.

• learn to knit. bing. This turned out to be a big success because I have been non-stop knitting for a few months now. Of course, they are only scarves, but I'm moving on up. Soon I will be fashioning leg warmers ("Well I honestly can't believe they made a comeback") and hats. Every family member who hears that I have picked up knitting gets this glassy look in their eye and says, "Your Grandma Griffin was the best knitter I ever saw." We have a giant afghan that she made for my parents' wedding, and I wore a countless number of sweaters and snowsuits. Grammy said the other day, "I always said that I wished your Grandma Griffin was still alive so she could teach you how to knit." I suppose I'm doing the best I can.
• start drinking tea. ehh. I tried. It was gross. Cocoa will suffice.
• get a coat. no, a real coat. bing. Got a coat--a pea coat. It's very nice, and as Lauren said, "I bet you will look hot." I'm counting on it.
• wear a scarf with that coat. behh. I have worn scarves, but not with the coat. I have made scarves for people with coats; does this count?
• learn to do laundry. ehh. pfhaha. yuhright. This is one of those resolutions that is intended to better everyone but me. That don't fly.
• stop wearing band t-shirts, dammit. behh. Mostly. Still have to represent the Heed.
• write that screenplay. ehh. Barely got anywhere.

Forgo all exercise (including walking)

Later, oh-four.

December 27, 2004
Conscientious
Sometimes I am late for school in the morning because I spend much of my bathroom time with my nose but an inch from the mirror, scrutinizing everything.

I take care to sit behind the driver in the car so that I can look at myself in the rearview mirror.

If I have to sit in the passenger seat, then I spend much of my time looking out the window, but not at the scenery--at the sideview mirror. I like you to think it's at the scenery, though.

I used to bring a pocket mirror to gym class so that while I was in my stall I could change in under a minute and then spend about five minutes looking at myself. Then, when I left the locker room, it took all my will power to not look at the full length mirror on the wall where the other girls do their hair because I am not allowed to look in that mirror. It is an unspoken rule.

Beside the other computer where I play the Sims2 all the livelong day, there is a piece of a broken mirror. I pick it up and I look at myself from all sorts of dramatic omemo angles projected against the Christmas tree. When the tree is gone I suspect I will look significantly worse. Christmas makes everything look better.

Before I leave for any sort of event, be it school, an appointment, I have to look in every mirror. My bathroom, my room, the middle room, my parents' room, my dad's bathroom, the staircase, downstairs hall, downstairs bathroom. Then I can leave.

When I'm driving I position the mirror just such so that I can at least see my eyebrows. I have received compliments on my eyebrows so it doesn't matter if I cannot see the cars behind me, as long as I can see my eyebrows.

I do all this because once I get out into the real world, people like me can't look at ourselves, it wouldn't be polite.

December 25, 2004
Notable Notes
Things that occurred during Christmas that are worth mentioning:

1. Our Christmas cookies were almost a disaster, but Uncle Richard and my magic skills saved the day.

2. We stopped off at Grammy's quickly on Christmas Eve before heading over to Auntie Maureen's because we needed to drop of the presents and cookies that we would be presenting on Christmas day. Not one minute into the visit, I ended up crying in the bathroom because Dad makes me feel like shit. I don't know what it is about me that makes him so angry, but I don't think I can change it because it is a constant.

3. I didn't feel as isolated at Auntie Maureen's on account of I have embraced the fact that I am closer to my six year old cousins than with my thirty year old cousins. I sat on the stairs instead of in the main room, and from there I watched the opening of the gifts and took pictures. Having a camera--particularly a camera with a view screen--also makes you very popular among the kids.

4. I officially do not care about presents anymore.

5. I do not remember ever liking clothes. Griffin and Jack and Julia do like clothes. The very first present Jack opened was the blue shirt from us. He held it up and said, "This is nice!" He is eight.

6. We sang the Twelve Days of Christmas. I don't recall ever singing carols before, but we did this time. But, because we can never agree on anything, we had to write the numbers one through twelve on pieces of paper and pull from a hat to decide who would sing what. Renay and I made a rule for ourselves: because we play instruments, we do not have to sing. She did end up singing, anyway. They gave Mike a high number (eleven) so that we wouldn't have to listen to him sing all that much. My mom got the first day of Christmas and changed the way she sang everytime. Abby had the fifth day, and instead of five golden rings, she sang five onion rings. It was funny the first time, but not after. Patrick filmed the song. Then we decided to do it again, and this time, Abby cornered me and made me sing. I had six geese a-laying.

7. I clarified the Twelve Days of Christmas for Auntie Maureen. She had them written on a card somewhere, but the last four days were out of order--I know this because it was only the day before that I had taken an MSN quiz online to see if you knew the Twelve Days of Christmas well. I got a hundred. She said, well then Natalie Cole is wrong, because I copied these days straight down from her lyrics. Turns out she meant Nat King Cole. I didn't say anything.

8. We took a new family portrait at Grammy's. We look like we are posing for the beginning of Family Feud. It took about twenty photos for all of us to look decent. It is now my job to superimpose a picture of Uncle Peter into the portrait. That is why there is a space between me and Patrick. That's for Peter.

9. It's not even over yet.

10. There was a cat at the entrance to my grandparent's cemetery. Its head was about ten feet from its body, and inside it was red.

11. Aunt Kathe had a seventeen-and-a-half foot tree. It spanned two floors, tickling the ceiling at the top so there was no room for a star. I imagine she had to call upon Professor Flitwick to help her levitate ornaments. Otherwise, I don't know how she did it.

happy hols from all of us here at a day late.

December 16, 2004
Pinocchio
"The thing about pistachios," Dad said, "is that they keep me busy. I just keep looking for one that maybe I haven't eaten. I just... keep looking. Maybe there's one in here. And once I look hard enough, I throw them away. But in the meantime, I keep looking. It keeps me busy. I need to be kept busy."

He stopped for a moment, stopped rifling through the empty pistachio shells, stopped talking, and then returned to his work.

"Well, that's a lie."

December 16, 2004
The Narration That Just Occurred in His Head
"The past six days have been the best six days of probably my whole life."

Immediately after making this statement, Royal realized that it was true.

December 12, 2004
We Should Be Honoring Chris, But...
Jeff Probst for Prez.

December 12, 2004
Biblical Humor Episode III: Holier Than Thou
I haven't gone to mass at St. Mary's Parish since I was confirmed last year because their latest mass is at 10:30 and I prefer the noon mass that St. Peter's offers.

Also, because 10:30 at St. Mary's denotes the Family Mass.

No one enjoys the Family Mass because you have to go with your family and be surrounded by other families and kids are big dummies. No one enjoys the Family Mass because as if Chris and Nancy's Super Choir wasn't enough, they are then joined by six-year-olds. Also, they call it St. Mary Parish. Learn your possessives, tools.

No one enjoys the Family Mass because the homily is extended by about twenty minutes because kids are slow. Father Brian invites them all up to the alter to sit in a circle, open the Advent calendar, and guess what's inside his magic bag. Today there was a Blockbuster Gift Card. I like to see how he ties it all in to the scripture.

What do you buy at Blockbuster?

Movies!
Videos!
DVDs!

What are your favorite movies?

Shrek!
Shrek 2!
The Little Vampire!

When you go to the movie theatre, what do you get?

Movies!
Candy!
Snickers!

What do they usually have before a movie?

Previews!!!!!

What do previews mean?

Movies!
LATER!

Later, and that's what Advent means. Coming soon. The Lord is coming soon. Why don't you little punks sing us a song about waiting for the Lord Our God to the tune of the Clapper theme song?

Hold on. clapclap. Wake up. clapclap. The Lord is coming, when, we don't know.

Dad was resting his head in his hands. For a brief moment he sat up straight, said, "I was going to be a priest but I cannot sing," then went back into his stupor.

And while I listened to the children sing and yammer about waiting for the Lord, whose arrival time we cannot anticipate, so many Simpsons lines popped into my head.

Aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Christmas here? The birth of Santa?

So while you're home today, eating your sweet sweet holiday turkey, I hope you'll all choke. Just a little bit.

Can we--skip--church?

December 8, 2004
Ender
Maxine told me that I am a late bloomer because I do not date.

Apparently immaturity equals an inability to be loved.

December 7, 2004
'06
Dear EveryoneWhoToldMeILookedAwkwardInMyGloryJacketToday,

I get rewarded for the only thing I do and I can't even accept it correctly? You take away the glory in everything.

Yours,
Molly S. Griffin
Saxophone section leader, North

December 6, 2004
Sprinkles
Walking home today my skin was blue and I was breathing so hard that I wasn't pretending to smoke, I was just a dragon. Picking up the mail I said, They say this is supposed to be a very snowy winter, and it hasn't snowed once yet. This is disappointing.

But then I brought the dog outside to pee and it sprinkled snowflakes for under a minute. I suppose that was that clouds telling me they can hear me and just be patient or you'll never get your white Christmas.

December 1, 2004
Oh How Mysterious
I don't like it when I'm walking down the hall and as I pass, one boy looks at me and says to his friend, "Case in point."

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