Thursday, December 24, 2009

A Christmas Miracle

'Twas the Eve of the Eve of Christmas and while I lay sleeping the wires in the fuse box in the wall near my feet melted and oozed and burned out their protective covering. Coincidence that my feet felt extra toasty? Yes, as the Christmas miracle has nothing to do with the almost fire and obituary of 2009.

This miracle left a much sweeter memory in the form of the forgotten wedding cake. Actually it was late and misplaced finally to be delivered by Santa's helper.

The cake was a trial run by my sisters (in hopes of making an actual wedding cake soon or becoming the next Landers sisters or first Martha Stewart twins) and I with my fetish for wedding cake asked to join the mess. It was a huge mess and wasn't done in the one day we'd left time for it. So I left Lamar without tasting the masterpiece. The twins finished it and Daniel was appointed to bring a slice to me in Salt Lake.

He forgot the frozen slice and had to backtrack to get it. Then in a redeeming haste thought to refreeze in a guy's collegiate apartment on the first night of his travels where he again forgot my cake.

I believed the cake had been eaten as soon as he left but one of two things happened. Either his friends were repulsed by the many flowers glued to the thick fondant frosting or they possess elfin qualities enabling them to resist the cake and deliver it on Christmas break.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The Birds!

A noticeable lull hit in November and I had nothing to tell, self induced or turkey induced the daze is gone and life hurls at me like a giant snowball; or a pigeon at the Salt Lake City Library (winner of the 2006 Best Library award). Back to the pigeons.

I work with someone who finds flying birds terrifying. And birds prancing on the ground? Just a prelude to disaster, something I forgot one blustery December morning. As I encouraged a fast pace to the car my friend's limbs locked in terror.

Once I realized she wasn't by my side I doubled back to be greeted with a cry of despair and death grip around my diaphragm. It did slow the breathing process and served as a not so gentle reminder of her bird fear. It also pushed me over because she tried to bury her head inside my chest cavity. Thankfully my skin wouldn't give, neither did my ribs, but my spine took the brunt force and bent into a yoga move I've yet to name.

To counter this attack I used my best sweet and confident voice to reassure her that pigeons don't attack people. You will be ok I chanted. Until I looked behind her and found a bird hovering over her head. Panicked I rearranged body into another unknown yoga position and tried to pry her off me while shooing the bird. A balancing act on ice.

The more I threw my arm at the pigeon the bigger it grew. Its chest puffed up to the size of a balloon and its talons became finger-like. My friend's straw colored haired head looked like the perfect nest for that pigeon. I'm not even sure they nest, but obviously it was deranged. Pigeons are not supposed to land on people's head. And library pigeons should be the tamest.

Alfred Hitchcock knew something I have only recently discovered.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Just Another Manic Monday

Especially if you are commonly mistaken for a celebrity. Mondays for me are are the .5 day of my 1.5 day weekend. Translation—I feel pretty comfortable not showering, fixing my hair or applying makeup and I dress for comfort in bright fashion. And it works, especially when you need to spend an hour with strangers.

I went to a day program to observe someone I work with planning on quietly standing in the corner. I forgot to factor in the Christmas spirit which is more rampant in the youth and special needs demographic. As ten minutes passed one of the staff there skipped up to me.

She seemed about my age and a fun bubbly girl with long dark hair and bright eyes. So when she gushed immediately about my natural beauty I felt awkward and underdressed. Then she kept going, my long dark hair that she noticed the first time I'd visited the program and arrived at the conclusion that I was the most beautiful woman she'd seen. Ah-hem. What do you say to that? Thanks and what time did you want to pick me up for our date? Again I repeat I felt awkward.

The blushed burned a little deeper when moments later one of the clients asked about me. My admirer asked the special needs person if I looked familiar...maybe like Snow White.

"SNOW WHITE?! Is she really Snow White?" the girl exclaimed with complete sincerity.

The staff laughed and nodded her head yes. In seconds she had crossed the room running at top speed and plowed into me.

"I'm so glad to meet you. Are you Snow White?" she asked.

Hmmm. Who am I to disappoint at Christmas. In my most regally sweet voice I answered yes and dramatically dropped my curved hand into hers and shook it like a queen.

A line soon formed and I wished for a ball gown with a red cape.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

O Tannenbaum

As a child I remember nagging my family put up our Christmas tree at the beginning of the season, the day after Thanksgiving. Now I'm lucky if I get to see the tree when I go home a few days before Christmas. But this year after seeing themed trees bursting with ribbon and ornaments at the Festival of trees I knew it was up to me to revive the Christmas spirit in Utah.

I made Skip help me construct a tree from copper wire. Actually I think he ripped the wire from my hands when I failed to correctly twist and pull the wire. Then we strung popcorn and cranberries on more wire to wrap around our tree. Again the decoration was ripped from my hands. Why? Because I failed to find the exact spot to puncture the popcorn. For those of you who have never thread popcorn along wire there is an exact spot on the popcorn where the wire must go. Funny I never found that spot but did force the popcorn into place.

We ended up with a mess of a spirally wiry tree that couldn't hold the popcorn and cranberry necklace. It leaned like a Dr. Seuss hat and provoked the embarrassment and love of a sparse Charlie Brown tree. I guess it was the result of a middle-aged white rapper fond of rhyming and a forlorn girl missing a homemade Christmas.

We bought a live evergreen a few days later. It has white lights and silver glitter ornaments.