Ahem, meaning this blog has international viewers.
But would ya look at that! This week my little blog has reached 3 continents! and SEVEN British strangers. Success.
A huge thank you to the few of you who are clearly delusional for reading this dribble nonsense. A Scooby snack to you wacky subscribers. No really, what are you doing with your lives? No wait, put away the snark, gratitude — thank you all, from the bottom of heart. I have an audience, yipee! This is earnest elation! MERRIMENT! Thanks to you, beloved family member, loyal friend, and random citizen, Travelingcookie is international!
I…however, am not, quite, eherm, international…yet.
Sorry for the misleading title. Nope, I (the real girl) am still relishing in the time I have left with the family and friends and the bits of frost leftover from our white Christmas here in the Pacific Northwest. And a little post-Christmas ennui.
I had wanted to make some sort of profound sermon on the joys and meanings of Christmas (like Linus) or some sort of tribute to the delight I have at being with my loved ones. I had wanted to cement in cyberspace my gratitude for my life; however, everything I wrote more or less was coming out as some sort of sacrilegious dig or some lofty commentary on materialism and blah blah blah. Nothing was coming. A big pile of phooey.
Suddenly, the sea of tinsel was cleared, the cinnamon rolls went missing (who, me?), my sister was said “no” to the salmon dip in tongues, the elastic pants required laundering, a night and a day and a night passed, and Christmas was gone.
So in place of something cute or sweet (like a labradoodle or a satsuma), I just have documentation of the arbitrary nuggets sown in my head for the past few days.
AKA Top 10 ways to not get stir crazy (or more like how to BASK in it) when your family goes to work/school/on glamorous lunch dates. Cheers:
1. Storm the libraries in town and swindle armfuls of books and magazines. Here’s The New Yorker about a young chef who grew up in a meth-cooking trailer, worked for Nicholas Cage, and today runs an underground L.A. supper club avoiding being covered by the Food Network.
2. Write letters. Especially if you have to say goodbye to tons of people you care about before your extended trip. Your friends just might be as ecstatic as mine were.
Me: *Sheepishly hands over envelope
Friend: “Oh, is it $100? Dang, it’s just paper”
3. Get caught up on movie watching so your arsenal of pop culture allusions will never run dry.
Over in New Zealand, check out my friend Lindsey on the set of “The Hobbit” and the rest of her saucy adventures in Australia studying movies.
If you’d rather potato-it-up be sure to get caught up on some oldies like this delightful collection of 90’s tapes from Lindsey:
And of course Netflix gems like:
4. Get to work on those projects that you never had time to finish, like condensing your family’s exorbitant ketchup collection.
5. Try your sister’s scrumptious homemade vegan granola bars and document each bite.
Or check out a legitimate photography site and check out this gallery featuring uber awesome images shot from above. It’s spectacular.
6. Ponder men’s fashion.
7. Make chocolate chip pancakes. They’re delicious.
8. Start reading poetry. Although, according to my high school lit teacher, Harold Bloom is a bit pretentious and as politely as my kindly teacher could say, a giant prat of sorts.
9. Drop the sonnets and check out the Calvin and Hobbes Search Engine. The creator of this is a genius and a saint.
10. Watch this video of an otter dancing. It’s delightful.
Ahem. Keep reading travelingcookie, you patron saint. Soon, I’ll actually have something substantial to write.
In the mean time, I thank you, I thank you, I thank you.