Winterizing

I'm just now adjusting to the time change. I intensely dislike the fact that by the time I get home at 5:30, it's already dark. It's ridiculous. It's not like I live in Alaska. I'd like some daylight up until at least 6:30.

But now, after weeks, I'm getting used to this dismal new world in which I (and I supposed everyone else in my time zone) have been doomed to exist until Spring.

Alas, fires in the fireplace and hot chocolate can brighten my day, but they cannot solve my new problem. My first cold of the season.

For me, the first symptom is a low-grade fever. It wouldn't be so bad if it were just that, but fevers make me crazy. I giggle and say strange things. It's similar to sleep deprivation where all your brain's higher functioning starts to wind down. At this very moment, I could be typing badly written sentences and missspellled words and I wouldn't even know.

I'm just getting used to winter, but maybe it's impossible to just accept part of the bad in something. Maybe I can't start loving the terrible weather that keeps me huddled in my cozy house without also loving cold and flu season...?

And on that note, I'm going to put myself to bed.

Marxism

Click on my favorite Marx brother for a quotation.

Twismuss

Twismuss time is here!

I refuse to decorate or listen to Christmas music until December 1st. Not late October when the stores start assaulting you with premature Holiday merriment. Not the day after Thanksgiving when most people feel licensed to buy a tree and toss on a Christmas sweater.

My Christmas season runs from December 1st through January 6th, also known as Olde Christmas. I do this from personal preference. I'm an old fashioned girl and I like the idea of preserving traditions. But I probably also follow that schedule because I'm Moravian and at my parents' house we display a lit Moravian star on our porch for that same period of time.

And so when the 1st of December hits, I can buy a tree, wrap my work computer in ribbon and begin listening to Christmas carols. I start later than most people, but I get to enjoy it through the first week of January after most trees have been tossed to the curb and the unwanted gifts have been returned.

So go ahead, start your Christmas season in August. Get sick of it weeks before December 25th. I don't care. I get New Christmas and Olde Christmas. So there.

Insulted

Pandora.com just had the audacity to assault my ears with Tori Amos. This was within my first 15 minutes of ever using Pandora. "Why, why?!" I said to myself as she whined through my speakers.
I suppose it's because Pandora thinks that someone who listens to Sam Phillips (the first artist I told it I liked) would also like Tori Amos.
Pandora, you are wrong. And 2 am is especially not the time to try my patience with the train wreck that is that woman.
Sam Phillips is charming and soothing. I can see how a computer might confuse that for screeching and emo. So I will forgive you, Pandora.