Wha...?

Yeah, that would be what my face looked like today. We had our company Secret Santa party today. It's a bit different that what I'm used to, but I don't know whether to assume that's a cultural difference or just some other coincidence. In my history, you find out who your Secret Santa was. Today, I found that you don't. Which is cool. No biggie.

Work Annika (WA) (we have to review for this story to have full impact) is different than Normal Annika (NA). NA talks constantly, laughs even more and is generally a fun loving person. Generally. WA is a workhorse. WA doesn't talk to people too much and doesn't attend social things at work unless she can be somehow behind the scenes baking or cleaning or setting up. So. The point of that is that people at work know a very different Annika.

My gift comes up. Thankfully, we didn't have the awkward everyone-looks-at-Annika-opening-her-present-what-face-do-you-give time. We just handed 'em out and opened 'em up. I got these two gifts: a Spongebob Squarepants notebook and fuzzy handcuffs.

I'll pause for that to sink in.

Now, I was mortified. In NA company, this would have been hilarious. But at work?! In what world is that an appropriate gift? I had no idea how to react. Plus, and most importantly, conjure up the mental image this person must have of me in his (it was totally a guy) mind. I am sure I turned 100 shades of red. Then people near me saw the handcuffs and they're being waved above my head. I knew going to that Christmas party was a bad idea. They saw me while drinking and then thought it'd be hilarious to make me horrifically uncomfortable in front of the whole building.

Well done, sir. Well done. :) You got me. But. I will find out the culprit. I'm just praying it's someone I actually talk to!

Oh, and um... I leave for the States in a couple hours!!! So this will be the last blog for a bit unless my internet addiction rears its ugly head while I'm on holiday. Otherwise, a happy holiday season to you and yours.

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane

Well, tomorrow is the big day. Things are finally in place for the move, so I should be fine. I am going to work tomorrow in jeans and a Wisconsin sweatshirt and no makeup. You can take the girl out of Wisconsin...

I am excited to fly. I love flying, but this will be such a long flight. Of course, not taking fourteen suitcases (a slight exaggeration) like I did last time will be so much nicer. I have magazines to read, cds to listen to, medicine to combine with wine to make me sleep like a baby (totally safe, I assure you) and I just pray the flight doesn't wipe me out for days. Not that it will stop me and my mommy. :) Mexican food and shopping await me. I couldn't be more happy.

And I get to see the rest of my family and my friends!! Ah! Christmas is so underrated. :)

Moving Sucks

I am a bit neurotic. It's true. So, any of you who know me would assume that I have packed and repacked my stuff for the States about a week ago. Normally this would be true. But I am homeless. Now, I realise the callous nature of saying that when people really are homeless and what I actually mean is that I have two homes. But still. I still can't move all my stuff into my new flat until Friday. And even then, it's all thrown in a corner to deal with for when I come back. Sweet. I'm sure I'll be totally up for unpacking everything I own after my trip to the States.

Also, I haven't packed yet! I can't! Where is my stuff? But. I have not lost my Christmas spirit. I will overcome! :) I will be in the States in a matter of days. I will be on the plane, drinking wine and reading the brand new Cosmo I bought. I will be with my family in friends shortly. My mood remains high. I refuse. :)

For Instance

I suck at writing in this lately. Is it possible that I've run out of mundane things to say? Doubtful, for instance...

I am shifting flats tomorrow. Is that insane? Only because I feel like there's no way I've been there almost a year and also because it's insane that I move the same week (nay, two days before) I fly to the States. So I need to finish Christmas shopping (one present to go), completely move all my worldly possessions, unpack them (I hate to leave things unfinished), and cancel all my services, subscriptions and renew them for my new flat. Bah.

Oh and I need to get a Secret Santa gift. Shoot. So many things. And my final mundane detail of the day is that it isn't sunny, warm, or quite frankly, summer here. I was promised summer. It's winter in the northern hemisphere and I was told they were opposites. Unfortunately, I think that means that the shorter vs longer seasons are reversed. Now, am I the only one who thinks fall and spring are typically shorter than summer and winter? Perhaps. But here, it is a really long fall (which I adore) and then a really long spring (which I hate). Who likes mud? Well, I better.

While I daydreamed of jumping on a plane in shorts and tank tops to have to change into my winter jacket and gloves in MN... I will pretty much just have to add a layer to my wardrobe. Stupid summer promises. But! It will be summer when I get back I'm told. Either that, or it's all lies again. But who can think of those distant lies when I'll be in the States at the week's end!!

Mumbo Jumbo

It's true; I talk fast. I always have and I probably always will. I have gotten better, and people get used to me, but it's just a state of affairs. However, I do reasonably well in professional settings. When I teach, the kids have to get used to my pace, but everything turns out fine. I used to work drive through at the infamous Arby's and get commended on my pronunciation, etiquette and positive attitude (not that it was much competition considering the antics of my peers like the equally infamous Ghetto Fab). I can do professional talking, is my point.

Today, I had to order more coffee as I have had to several times in the past few months. I rang and explained who I was, where I was calling from, and the purpose for my call. I had to repeat myself four (count 'em: four!) times. Now, the first time, I'll grant you. You aren't expecting a rapid-fire American to be on the other end of the line. But the subsequent repetition? By the end of it, I felt like I was openly mocking him, drawing out each syllable to about a minute a piece. He didn't seem offended in the least, nor did he think it unusual for me to have to repeat myself unendingly. Weird.

So maybe after all that, my speech hasn't improved. What more can I do? You're just going to have to figure out a way to slow my brain down. I can think of no other logical solution.

Open Windows

Well, for the first time this spring/summer, I was able to keep my windows open all night. It was nice and even a little humid for me. But I realised why I don't like to sleep with my windows open. I'm far too paranoid. Again, the windows here don't have screens. There are many bees and flies that like to hang out, not to mention small birds that fly right around my windows as is. I just keep having flashbacks to when a bluejay got caught in the sunporch at the house on Courtney senior year. That bird went absolutely crazy and I couldn't do a thing to help it but hope it got out. I do not want a bird to freak out in my flat while I'm in it sleeping. Gross.

Also, and I realise this is odd sounding, I worry that people walking by will hear my sleeping. I mean, I know I sometimes snore. I probably make various other sounds too. The chances of someone walking past my flat, close enough to hear me at 4am are slim. Still.

But I found a legitimate reason for sleeping with my windows closed. The birds start singing way before daylight, which wakes me up way before daylight. At least, I'm blaming the birds. If I am waking up before 8 for no reason, I need to check into a loony bin.

And PS - of course I'll sleep with my windows open. It's going to get too bloody hot not to. But I will worry about birds every night! :)

Some More Goodies

I just think these are fun. Go Christmas.

I Think This Makes Me Morbid...

...but I still think it's hilarious.

Not Abandoned!

On the way to church, I saw a car that had its front tires missing and was stacked up on 2X4s. It looked like it was in quite the state and my ever realistic mind thought, "Sucks to be that guy." It is summer and apparently crime comes out in full force (or small town crime anyway) because all the students have gone and left their stuff in their houses as storage. I thought this was quite a new high to crime though. That's bold! But then, I saw the sign on the windscreen: "Not Abandoned!"

Poor car. Poor student. If your car is in such bad shape, you need to make people aware that you haven't been ripped off, you haven't just left your junker car to rot, and that you are in fact coming back for its tired remains, you have a problem. But at least it cheered my Sunday up a bit.

Oh! And we had the Christmas Parade! I took pictures, but I haven't gotten them online yet. Story of my life, I know, but I promise they're coming.

Sweet Aromas

I have decided I need a signature scent. I'm not typically a perfume (parfoom as the saleslady says) person, so it's hard. Plus, I am notoriously picky about everything I buy, so it's a battle for all involved.

Ever in an attempt to impress the Class Police (to no avail), I wanted to get Chanel No. 5. It's nice, but... the saleswoman said it was an old scent, which is factually true, but she followed it up with, "Not that only old ladies wear it -- I mean, they do! (awkward laughter) But not only old ladies... I mean..." Hm. I didn't like it really at first. I tried some other horrible putrid scents that resembled flowers dipped in alcohol and sugar. And I have never been able to match a scent with the whole baby prostitute line from Mean Girls until I smelled Paris Hilton's gem.

I think out of the billion things I smelled, Chanel is growing on me the most. I just don't like perfumes really, but still feel I should have a subtle signature scent. I am taking suggestions, but I might just give in and get Chanel because at least I can say I wear it. I'm such a brand whore.

Bah Humbug

Now, I think it should be obvious since I posted like a month ago about missing Christmas that I do in fact adore Christmas. I don't know that I would say that it's generally my favorite all time holiday (I have to agree with my brother - Easter is nice. Our family gets together, has a meal, goes to church, etc. It's like Christmas without the snow, the five pounds you gain, and - his personal favorite - the tree.) But this year, Christmas is my favorite because I get to go home, at least for a whirlwind tour of the States. Now, people have been plotting to ruin Annika's Christmas. No, no, no. Not people I know (besides my brother and his anti-tree stance), but strangers or near strangers.

They went around asking people on Kiwi MTV if they cared about Christmas. A lot of people said no. A lot of people said they hated seeing their families, that it was all contrived, that it was very consumeristic. Okay, all that can be true. Then, I saw the company Christmas tree up at work; I oohed and aahed and was shushed by some people around me. "I don't see why we have to indulge in this crap here." Gasp! Whose hearts are not melted by the sight of a lit Christmas tree that you didn't have to put up, decorate, or take down? Then, a co-worker pulled out the doozy: "It's just a holiday created by card companies." What?! I'm pretty sure Christians had something to do with it! (I'm being religiously open-minded, you see.) But take out God, the baby Jesus, and all that for a minute. Christmas can be wonderful. You see your family! You get to feel the bittersweet passage of time, pick out 'the perfect present' for loved ones, cozy up on a couch and stare at the Christmas tree at night, and wake up with a knot in your stomach about Christmas morning like adults don't often get the chance to do! I mean, there is a lot more in it for Christians, but even if you ignore that - take advantage! You know?

Now, maybe other people's families suck. Maybe they can't afford presents or decorations, and it serves as a reminder of poverty. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But I still say that it's what you make it. So we've got some choices in front of us: bitter about how commercialised Christmas has gotten, etc etc etc or enjoy the holiday.

I realise I may have gotten on my soapbox for nothing. Maybe it's a Kiwi mentality (can Christmas just not get 'picked up' like that?) and the people who read this (primarily non-Kiwis) are gung-ho about Christmas. But I think it's a nice reminder. Once the idea of Christmas risks being unattainable because you've thrown yourself on the other side of the world, it seems a little less about the ritzy quality of wrapping paper and more about seeing people you love.

End of soapbox. Promise. :)