Has it been another week already? Boy howdy. I had no idea. The month of December has become one long series of selling products, ringing up products, buying products, making products, bagging products, and listening to Christmas music. Punctuated by sleep and Glee. Sorry about the lack of update last week, is what I’m saying.
Autostraddle made a list of good Christmas songs and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Guys, I cannot tell you how much I hate the song at [retail job 1] that goes, “I’m the happiest Christmas tree! Ho ho ho, hee hee hee!”, nor how often it gets wedged in my brain. I’d prefer it if they replayed that ballad about orphans writing letters to Santa to ask for parents. (That is a real song, you guys! The first time I heard it, I almost sat down right there in the picture frame aisle and gave up on life.)
I’m sorry, it seems my cat gas decuded ti crawl on me/my keyboard Hold on.
Okay, back! Like I was saying, Lindsay at AS has good taste. I lost the Snowflake Day spirit this year — sure as shootin’, I lost it! — and if you know me IRL, “Heather” and “lack of holiday cheer” are generally seen as incompatible. I mean, I’ve still been putting effort into people’s presents and everything, but mostly I want to burn every singing stuffed Santa in existence and hibernate until January. Lindsay’s list of Chrismuhanakwanzakah tunes has started to revive me, though: “Things We Don’t Need Anymore” and “Fairytale of New York” have now gone into heavy rotation on my iPod. They solve my psychological need for Christmas music without making me feel like I’m at work. (Also, I love Wham! forever and ever, but you knew this.)
Glee had a Christmas special. Last Tuesday’s episode was more or less the combination of my three great loves: musicals, pop culture references, and Christmas episodes. Also, Kurt and Blaine sang “Baby It’s Cold Outside” and it was GLORIOUS. I get that “Baby It’s Cold Outside” is effectively about hetero blue balls, and on a lyrical level it gets kind of uncomfortable from a feminist standpoint, but I can’t help liking that song. It’s the only song at work I like, really (aside from “All I Want for Christmas is You,” which should have been in the Glee special as well, because… why wouldn’t it be?). Oh, and Rachel and Finn did “Last Christmas”! While unsurprisingly walking through a Christmas tree lot they found in the Studio B of Television Christmas Cliches! As you can imagine, I was on levels of serotonin normally achieved in the human subject by taking hallucinogenics.
The Giant’s House, Elizabeth McCracken. A former professor of me and Rachel (and Emma) recommended this novel about eighteen months ago. It took me until this week to read it, but hoo boy. The Giant’s House is one of those stories that creeps into your heart so slowly and unassumingly that when it nears the end, when all the events begin clacking into place, you’re shocked at how invested you feel. I was seriously upset, you guys. There I was, reading along and appreciating the lovely, imagistic mechanics of McCracken’s prose, when suddenly I found myself on the verge of crying. It was the literary equivalent of being Wiffle-smacked in the back of the head.
iMovie. So much better than Windows Movie Maker! So! Much! Better! I’m making a video for the Kid Wonder’s Christmas present and wouldn’t use any other editing program. Teaching cats to play soccer is hard enough without postproduction issues.*
I have the day off on Monday. What will I do? I don’t even know. It’s been so long.
*In this case, “teaching cats to play soccer” means both “yelling at cats while they ignore me/the ball” and “wearing a scarf as an ascot to make up science.”