(This post was started on Sunday, Dec. 23 and proved too long for one man in one sitting. It will continue in the days following Christmas.)
Here I sit, broken-hearted,
trying to finish a post I started.
Humans & Felines
For those that follow this blog as closely as Kirstie Alley follows brownies, it's evident that December was a damn busy month. The holidays are a tough time. At your job, everyone has to deal with end of quarter and end of year business, so it's the most stressful three business months out of any twelve. And it all culminates in December, when the slackers get called out for eleven months of apathy, placed under multiple metaphorical guns. And what pushes everyone over the edge is the unavoidable personal life pressures of the holidays. It doesn't matter what faith you are or you ain't, December's probably got some holiday in it that you need to address. Professional & personal lives collide, which in turn lead to heavy drinking, and you've got yourself a perfect storm by which to remember the year.
Silver lining: it's (pretty much) over. As of this weekend, professional life has closed up shop until the new year, providing a most delightful week-and-a-half holiday. As I've griped about here many times before, work has been incredibly tense over the last month or two, but with Friday's launch (finally) of the source of much of my ire, it is now much easier to breathe. Blondie, on the other hand, spent the last two work weeks with only two days in the office - between Paris and an early holiday leave - so she was able to begin decompression much earlier, and for much longer: in 17 consecutive workdays, in the office for 4! But in all fairness, she's had her share of work stress too, with a couple of incredibly late nights to boot, so her break is well deserved.
Right now, Amber is at home in Arizona, spending Christmas with her parents, seeing every movie in the theaters (really? National Treasure? really?), and, if she wanted - lucky &$#^* - swimming. So it's just me and the boys until Friday when she comes back. On average, they've been good. During the week, they were very loving and snuggly - probably still lingering loneliness from the Paris trip. But this weekend, as I've spent most of it with them in the apartment, they've been lunatics, especially Baker. Lots of energy and a bit destructive. I thankfully remembered about the laser pen, and now have an effective tool for wearing them down in just a few minutes.
Life list
Before I get to Paris...
I recently posted about the things I want to do before I die, one of which reads "Finish a Sunday Times crossword perfectly". In the December something-or-other issue, I came 2 boxes away from perfection. I had the whole thing filled in and was pretty confident about every square, except for a region in the southwest. Turns out I nailed that spot, but bungled another in the northeast. Plural "nebula" is not "nebulas", it's "nebulae", which would've made much more sense with the adjacent clue, and thus the residual second error. I feel very strongly that I could have corrected those on my own; it wasn't a 'screw you, Times' clue, like "1182 Prussian squire _______ Von Stasstis". I was close, closer than I've ever been. For now, the beautiful struggle continues.
Paris
(Pictures already posted to Flickr.)
So, Paris. Never have I had such drastically different experiences in the same place, and I think the same goes for Amber. We had had previous and separate trips there some years ago, both terrible. Amber's for being poor and starving, and with the wrong people; mine for being poor, hot, crowded, and with the wrong person. Looking back, we definitely set ourselves up with some high standards for this trip, but it just hit the mark throughout.
Something about Paris - and the same goes for half of London and other European cities - that is drastically different about American cities is its age. It's visually evident the minute you pop out of the Metro for the first time. But the age sets the cultural tone as well, which you experience it in your interactions with the natives. We can talk all day about different countries and cultures, and which ones observe noble traditions (i.e. politeness, open-mindedness) and which ones observe archaic traditions (i.e. racism, caste systems). And the French are by no means perfect. (I can't think of any specific instances of questionable behavior, but as an American, I felt the need to knock foreigners off the pedestal.) However, the French have a lot of their priorities in line with our own, Amber and mine, so the overall experience was very enlightening and incredibly comforting. Without hesitation, Paris - at least in the winter months - is definitely a city in which we felt we could live.
to be continued...
Here I sit, broken-hearted,
trying to finish a post I started.
Humans & Felines
For those that follow this blog as closely as Kirstie Alley follows brownies, it's evident that December was a damn busy month. The holidays are a tough time. At your job, everyone has to deal with end of quarter and end of year business, so it's the most stressful three business months out of any twelve. And it all culminates in December, when the slackers get called out for eleven months of apathy, placed under multiple metaphorical guns. And what pushes everyone over the edge is the unavoidable personal life pressures of the holidays. It doesn't matter what faith you are or you ain't, December's probably got some holiday in it that you need to address. Professional & personal lives collide, which in turn lead to heavy drinking, and you've got yourself a perfect storm by which to remember the year.
Silver lining: it's (pretty much) over. As of this weekend, professional life has closed up shop until the new year, providing a most delightful week-and-a-half holiday. As I've griped about here many times before, work has been incredibly tense over the last month or two, but with Friday's launch (finally) of the source of much of my ire, it is now much easier to breathe. Blondie, on the other hand, spent the last two work weeks with only two days in the office - between Paris and an early holiday leave - so she was able to begin decompression much earlier, and for much longer: in 17 consecutive workdays, in the office for 4! But in all fairness, she's had her share of work stress too, with a couple of incredibly late nights to boot, so her break is well deserved.
Right now, Amber is at home in Arizona, spending Christmas with her parents, seeing every movie in the theaters (really? National Treasure? really?), and, if she wanted - lucky &$#^* - swimming. So it's just me and the boys until Friday when she comes back. On average, they've been good. During the week, they were very loving and snuggly - probably still lingering loneliness from the Paris trip. But this weekend, as I've spent most of it with them in the apartment, they've been lunatics, especially Baker. Lots of energy and a bit destructive. I thankfully remembered about the laser pen, and now have an effective tool for wearing them down in just a few minutes.
Life list
Before I get to Paris...
I recently posted about the things I want to do before I die, one of which reads "Finish a Sunday Times crossword perfectly". In the December something-or-other issue, I came 2 boxes away from perfection. I had the whole thing filled in and was pretty confident about every square, except for a region in the southwest. Turns out I nailed that spot, but bungled another in the northeast. Plural "nebula" is not "nebulas", it's "nebulae", which would've made much more sense with the adjacent clue, and thus the residual second error. I feel very strongly that I could have corrected those on my own; it wasn't a 'screw you, Times' clue, like "1182 Prussian squire _______ Von Stasstis". I was close, closer than I've ever been. For now, the beautiful struggle continues.
Paris
(Pictures already posted to Flickr.)
So, Paris. Never have I had such drastically different experiences in the same place, and I think the same goes for Amber. We had had previous and separate trips there some years ago, both terrible. Amber's for being poor and starving, and with the wrong people; mine for being poor, hot, crowded, and with the wrong person. Looking back, we definitely set ourselves up with some high standards for this trip, but it just hit the mark throughout.
Something about Paris - and the same goes for half of London and other European cities - that is drastically different about American cities is its age. It's visually evident the minute you pop out of the Metro for the first time. But the age sets the cultural tone as well, which you experience it in your interactions with the natives. We can talk all day about different countries and cultures, and which ones observe noble traditions (i.e. politeness, open-mindedness) and which ones observe archaic traditions (i.e. racism, caste systems). And the French are by no means perfect. (I can't think of any specific instances of questionable behavior, but as an American, I felt the need to knock foreigners off the pedestal.) However, the French have a lot of their priorities in line with our own, Amber and mine, so the overall experience was very enlightening and incredibly comforting. Without hesitation, Paris - at least in the winter months - is definitely a city in which we felt we could live.
to be continued...