Holiday Spirit

Last Christmas didn’t really feel much like Christmas to me. I didn’t get to go home until something horrible like December 21st and was running around like a headless chicken until that moment. I didn’t really listen to Christmas music or “get in the mood;” it came and went so fast. But this year, the universe seems to be compensating in some really lovely ways.

Now, these past two weeks have been rather a bit “crazy cakes” as my mom would say, much the same as last year except I get to go home earlier. I’ve basically be a the library from nine am until nine pm every day toiling away. In order to cope, I developed a pretty solid strategy: movement. I would stay at one library until one pm  and then move to a different one; at four I would go out to get food.  “Out” meant “Starbucks.” Normally, I’m not much of a Starbucks person. I don’t drink coffee and English breakfast tea is English breakfast tea no matter where you get it from. But as we all know so well, I am a peppermint hot chocolate FREAK at this time of year. I figure because I’m spending so much time in the library, I’m not buying groceries and my money can instead go toward peppermint ho-cho. Again, normally, humanity affirming situations don’t typically come to me at Starbucks, but here we go.

Last Monday I went to one of the Starbucks at the south end of campus before class. I asked for my peppermint hot chocolate, paid for it and went to wait for it. I probably looked something like a combination of Charlie Brown’s face and the Christmas tree’s posture:

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The barista making the drinks, however,  was downright jolly! He was energetic and friendly to pretty much everyone. He even danced a little bit. That brought me about half way out of my Ulysses induced stooper. Then he started talking in a super overblown Canadian accent, “eh” and everything. I took my drink, thanked him in an equally ridiculous Canadian accent, and smiled all the way back to the library! Weird, I know, but really it was nice seeing someone  — especially someone in the service industry –so chipper.

Then Sunday night, same thing: studying hard, needed a break, went to the Starbucks at the north side of campus this time. Ordered my drink, was waiting by the station and again the barista was like a little dash of holiday cheer. He called out for a “‘something something’ frappacini” which caused me to wonder “what a frapacini was.” Then I realized that he was just talking nonsense. He asked if I wanted “sprinklies” on my hot chocolate to which I laughed and said “yes! I love sprinklies!” His co-worker said “hey you got one to smile!” and the barista replied “extra sprinklies for you!!” and boy did I get extra sprinklies. That was, I swear, one of the best peppermint hot chocolates I’ve had all season. Again, smiling all the way back to the library.

This part has nothing to do with Starbucks, but that same Sunday, not an hour later a choir came by, stood outside the library and sang two or three Christmas carols. It was lovely! Instantly I was a million times less stressed. It was like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

People say that the holidays are the worst because everyone is so stressed out and everything is crowded, but thanks to these people, I am 100% in the holiday spirit. It was beyond uplifting and made me remember that this time of year can be really truly beautiful (despite the essays, exams and slushy snow).

I don’t usually post things like this, and I know that all of this is really cheesy, but I think it’s important for people to know that universe can be really good sometimes.

 

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I love driving, talking all day, really good friends, beautiful weather, beaches, creepers (from a distance), possibilities but right now, I really really love California.

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Sometimes I forget how wonderfully different NorCal and SoCal are. Each is it’s own separate little world. Driving from one to the other is a bit of a trip, and although, I will always be a NorCal girl, I can definitely appreciate how incredibly beautiful Pismo Beach and San Luis Obispo are. I’ll admit, real beaches have their appeal.

I had a good new years, can you tell?

Also, the OC soundtrack #1 is amazing and makes really good road trip music, in case you were unaware. I also miss the OC a little bit.

 

A-Hem

Can I be vomit-ous and cutesy for just a moment?

k, thanks.

For all my feminist ranting, my raging independent streak, my high standards and all together tough facade, sometimes I really miss my boyfriend and/or my best friend.

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I used to really hate cutesy couples… until I became one.

(Sorry Liz!)

BUT I don’t think loving a man makes me or has made me any less of an independent feminist. It certainly has made me a happier one.

For those of you judging: I am not blindly devoted ( I promise), we are entirely equal partners (like I could have it any other way) and he feels the same way.

Unfortunately that photo is not of us, but I totally wish it was.

Camp update: The campers come friday!!! the past week has been unbelivably hard. I’m so ready to spend some time with happy chit-lins with smiles of gold and hugs of sweetness.

There Is A Season- Turn, Turn, Turn

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at approximately a quarter to nine my pink alarm clock starts to sound. Several snooze-button-slaps later I am up and the clock is off. Warm sunlight and cold air rush through my open window, waking me up and making me shiver. I groggily make breakfast, tiredly brush my teeth and pull on my boots painstakingly. As I leave my apartment, hot tea in hand, the normally bustling Bloor Street is suspiciously quiet. Gone are the stumbling drunk co-eds in their short skirts and high heels slurring to high heaven about “what a bastard he is” and the frat boys, still sober, but giddy with the promise of getting some “tail tonight” from the night before. In the crisp morning air there is only the ambient murmur of cars and the dignified click- clack of a business person with somewhere to be. This is the most quiet you could ever hope for. Cold air tickles the back of my throat with each breath and my body shakes to keep warm as I tramp through my parking-lot-short-cut. I am slightly sleepy and slightly miserable though one foot continues to follow the other, leaving a clean trail through the snow. Left on Sussex. Right on Huron. Through Robarts. Across the street and then again. Left through the archway and straight to and through the glass doors on the south side of University college.

I am warm.

Off come the woolen gloves, thick hat and soft scarf none of which really match. I make my way through the halls, each footstep filled with determination as I grab a newspaper, shove it  into the back of my tired book bag and  hustle down the concrete steps into the cold basement and through the open crimson door of UC 85 and my Women Writers class. Bliss sets in.