Go me!

In the past week I have survived our first winter storm (one good thing about not having a car, no scraping, no sliding), a company Christmas party, lined up a successor to my presidency of a local library consortium, dealt well with my first family resource centre visitors (even though one kept trying to sell me a wireless plan), managed to stay alive in Cthulhu and take all sorts of new game revelations in stride, read and enjoyed several chapters of J.R.R. Tolkien's Silmarillion (apparently I needed to read from the beginning, rather than jumping straight into the Lord of the Rings, and hunted down, captured, and brought a tree home to enjoy the Yuletide season. A note on the last: being Pagan, I prefer a real tree. [What, she's getting a Christmas tree? Not at all. If you look at the history, all this greenery and gift giving come from Pagan sources that were going on long before Christ.] And in keeping with that tradition, Yule is about the survival of life in the darkness of winter, not the survival of plastic. Being a tree-hugger, I don't really want to kill one to get the effect. For years I had a small Norfolk Virginia pine in a pot that I used, but it finally shriveled up and died last summer. The ones I've seen that were similar were more than I wanted to pay for a four foot, 10" diametre pot ($25.00). This afternoon I went over to Home Depot and found the perfect size (6' tall/14" pot), but it was $40! So, I did what any budget-conscious gardening buff would do--I examined all the specimens until I found a green, viable tree that had overshot its pot, needed replanting, was even falling down without support, but still had a 10" pot (only $12). I bought it and a 12" pot ($5), so now I have a six foot tree that's nicely branched and just needs to be staked into the new pot with a little more dirt. Seeing as I carried the thing home (I live a couple of blocks away), I am now resting, blogging, and letting some dirt I had outside thaw in my kitchen sink so I can get the tree up and ready for decorating. As with my other tree, the cats were fascinated for all of five minutes and now have gone back to playing with milk tabs.

All of this, mind you, has been post DBT. I really do feel pretty well. I'm participating in a study as a control at work in which I have to fill out a questionnaire on quality of life and mood. For the first time in awhile, I don't think I'm going to come out depressed. I've generally been looking forward to the holidays (I'm listening to Christmas music right now. Granted, I'm not Christian, but I like the music, okay?)

I have to admit, though, that I have had enough socialising for one weekend. The Christmas party didn't make me feel phobic like I used to be, although the band, which was very good, was just too loud. I would have preferred to have a bunch of us go out to Perkins or something instead once it started, but since one of my friends at work is the daughter of the band's drummer, I don't think she would have come. Yesterday I watched part of the 10-hour Taken marathon (and taped the rest). It was very good. Only 10 hours more to go. Sigh. But I am totally hooked. They've done an excellent job with the period clothes and scenery, too. The website's really great, although it gave me fits when I was on a slow connexion. For those who miss it, there's a novel out there based on it as well. Then I went over to Zabet's, had dinner, played Scrabble (TM) and watched Monsters, Inc., which was just darling. I definitely need to get a copy. At work we have life-sized figures of Sully and Mike--not cardboard cutouts--3D, with a very furry Sully that the kids love to rub in the tummy. The rec therapy staff have decorated them for the holidays with garlands and stockings. I'm thinking of having my picture taken with them for next year's Yule cards.

Okay, I guess that's all for now. I may check and see if the Friday Five's back up. Better late than never. If not, I'll probably copy a response to one of those "getting to know you" e-mails I got at work the other day. When I was answering questions on celebrities, I went to Sean Biggerstaff's website to make sure the young man wasn't still a minor. I mean, a 35-year-old going gaga over a kid, right? Well, he's legal, anyway. For those of you who don't recognise him, he plays Oliver Wood in the Harry Potter movies. He's actually 20 now. He has a lovely Scottish accent and a smirk that makes both Zabet and me just melt, not to mention a name that invites all sorts of comment. But I was looking through the site and he definitely has a warm sense of humour. I particularly like the section on "What it's like living in England?" to which he replies that he doesn't know, having lived in Scotland all his life. It amazes me that Americans (okay, I'm making an assumption here, but you and I both know that they're probably Americans asking this) just don't seem to understand that the Scotland and Wales are not English. British, yes. You can even say that one is a Briton. But English, never, unless they happen to be English people living in Scotland or Wales. Northern Ireland's a little stickier, of course. But still. Geography people, it's a wonderful subject.

Talk to you later, and happy finals for all you poor suckers in school!