18.12.12

List #172: If Santa Claus was Coming to Town

Shh, I'm about to tell you a secret. Sometimes I wish Santa was real.

But I doubt that I'm the only one.

See? Other people wish Santa were real. Like fictional characters from one of the best television shows.

If the man in the big red suit really was coming down my chimney next wee, I would ask for a few things other than a KindleFire and a set of hot rollers. 
  • A sweet phone call from the person I keep thinking about.
  • More Christmas cards from loved ones.
  • A note of appreciation and acknowledgement for all of my hard work. 
  • A declaration of love.
  • Fantastic NYE plans that include a fancy dress. 
  • Health for all of my family and friends.
  • Not just a date, but a real and honest relationship.
  • Six months rent, paid.
  • Nights on the couch with someone who likes kissing me.
  • Peace.
  • Less horrific events, more happy events.
  • A day spent with my closest friends where no one has to rush off to prior engagements.
  • Enough wine to last a year.
  • More grand gestures.
  • A mild winter.
  • Love. Peace again. Happiness.
Does anyone else wish Santa was real? That man can work some serious magic. 


14.12.12

Letter #49: Notes on a Tragedy

Dear America,

There is nothing that I am going to say here that won't be said better by professional writers, journalists, and poets. I am just a woman who works with children in a city far away from this horrible tragedy that is so hard to even imagine. Except that it's real.

But I've cried three times today. Three times because I keep picturing little children crouching in a corner wondering what they hearing. Three times because I am trying to imagine what it must have been like for those teachers, trying to keep children who they love, safe. Three times because I keep wondering what it could possibly be like to tell lines of scared children to keep their eyes closed as they evacuated their school; a place that they have always thought of as safe, but suddenly was a massive crime scene.

And I will continue to cry as I think about those families who lost today. As I imagine what it must be like for those brothers and sisters to go home without their sibling. For those parents who have to mourn their children. For those teachers who are probably wondering what they could have done differently. For the rest of that school that has to find a way to cope this senseless act. For that community that now has too many holes in their heart.

I'll admit that this is the first mass shooting in a long time that has moved me to tears. It's a horrible thing to say, but when we live in a country where it has come to feel like one happens every week, it's hard not to become desensitized.

I grew up in a world much different than the children of Sandy Hook. The doors to my schools were open all of the time. People came and went as they pleased. No one questioned anything. But then I was a senior when Columbine happened and our country started to change. The rest of my senior year of high school was peppered with bomb threats and evacuations. People scared that whatever happened there could happen anywhere.

I was a teacher when Virginia Tech happened. Fourth, fifth, and sixth grade. And I casually slipped over to the adjoining room to let the head of the school know about that tragedy. It was easy to hide the news from the children. I simply blocked internet usage for the remainder of the day until they could go home to parents. I may have answered a few questions in the following days, but then it was over and we moved on.

And then there was L.A. Fitness shooting that happened in my neighborhood. I heard the sirens. My brother was arriving for his workout when people were fleeing the building. People from my school district died. Girls I had met before, friends of friends, were shot. The gunman had gotten a library card from my library. I used to work in a card store just steps away from the scene. That mass shooting was, quite literally, in my backyard.

But so many that were in-between and after? I can barely remember. And that is a tragedy in itself. Those victims should never be forgotten. We should have never arrived at a point in our country where we don't even bother to read all the stories about the latest shooting.

I won't pretend to have the answers to make these tragedies go away. There are people far more educated in regards to mental health and weaponry that me who will battle this out. But chance are very little will change anytime soon. However, there is no reason I can't make my voice heard. We all need to make our voices heard. If now is not the time to talk about reform and change, then I don't know when the conversation ever has a chance of evolving.

I will write my congressman. I will sign petitions. I will stick to my own opinion that we need better gun control in this country. That we need better health care so those who are suffering from mental illness can have access to affordable, quality treatment. I will try to break the stigma of mental illness so that those suffering don't have to feel ashamed or weak.

I don't believe that people died today because God has been removed from school.  I don't think that anyone died today because God has a special plan. I don't think metal detectors would have stopped this madman from his rampage. I don't think that each one of these shootings were caused by the same type of person. I don't think there are simple fixes to these problems.

What I do think is that we need change. We need to stop sitting-by watching 24-hour news dissect these unspeakable actions. Because they should never happen again.

And tonight, while I'm having trouble falling asleep because my mind keeps wandering into the homes of Sandy Hook, I will cry a few more tears and feel blessed that those I love are safe.

Always,

Shannon

10.12.12

List #171: The Flip Side of Holiday Spirit

For one moment I'm going to get it all out there. I'm going to list all of the ways the holidays suck and then I'm going to move on. I know there is far too much to be thankful for in my life, especially during the holidays. But yet, every day more than one or two "if only..." thoughts creep up.

So tonight, I'm putting it all out there.* And then packaging it on up with a nice little bow. And throwing it out the window.

I dislike/hate/get sad about the following during Christmas 2012:

  • I have no desire to watch holiday movies alone. 
  • There will be no gifts under my own tree on Christmas day.
  • Paychecks are never big enough.
  • My holidays have never included a grand romantic gesture.
  • I hate worrying about New Year's Eve. Every damn year.
  • The number of times I'll have to answer "Are you seeing anyone?"
  • Christmas Eve without my favorite family member to dance and drink with.
  • Worrying I will forget someone in gift giving.
  • Wishing I had that special someone to buy for.
  • Feeling like another year has gone by without progress.
  • The way the holiday season has a way of heightening your fears and self-doubt.
  • Emotions about my patrons who may not have anywhere to go on Christmas.
  • Wanting to look my hottest when I'm eating my most.
  • Wondering if the persons I'm casually thinking about are casually thinking about me.
  • Feeling like not matter what I accomplish in a year, it's never enough.
  • Guilt over wishing days away.
  • Being genuinely disappointed that I didn't meet my "books to read" goal.
  • Wishing for some very unrealistic holiday magic.
  • Watching Hallmark/Lifetime Holiday movies and the self-hate and mix of feelings when they are over.
  • Being jealous of "perfect holidays" and "dreams come true."
  • Being scared of what might happen in the new year.
  • Being terrified of what might not happen in the new year.
Okay, that's it. I promise. I'll be back to waxing nostalgic and focusing on the reasons for the season later. But I really just wanted to come home to a guy making me a mug of hot chocolate, some presents wrapped under the tree, Love Actually on the TV, and a kiss on the forehead. 

Still hoping for magic in 2013. 

*Brenna is one of the most honest bloggers I know. It's hard for me to say what is wrong sometimes. So for her, I am thankful and inspired. 

9.12.12

List #170: Gifts for Under the Tree

I work in a non-profit. I give to my college every year. Along with a few other charities. Each holiday season I make sure that at least one child gets his/her Christmas wish fulfilled.

I don't cause drama online. I try not to say mean things about people.

I call my parents a few times a week and usually see them once.

I love my friends. I work hard.

I'm sweet and generous to a fault.

What am I getting at here?

There should be no doubt that I am on Santa's Nice List.

And just in case the man in red is reading blogs before he prepares for his trip around the globe, here are a few things that a Librarian in Pittsburgh would liked wrapped with a bow.

A Scratch Map--So that I can show off my travels from the living room.*
Cards from Sapling Press--Please note that they should include handwritten notes from people (or maybe if there is a holiday miracle, a guy) that I like.**


A Mirrored Dresser--Because I don't have any dresser, my bedroom needs some spice. And Oh, so pretty.***
Ron Swanson Advice--Because I need my own personal Ron in my world of Leslie.****

So a few these tangible for under the tree this year. Come on Santa, make a gal like me smile on Christmas morning.

*I've traveled more than some, yes. But the number of international destinations is not brag-worthy. But motivation! 
**I wouldn't mind some of these lovely cards to send to others too. But it's the type of stationery that makes me all swoony for love and inside jokes. 
***This specific dresser costs more than a paycheck.  But maybe Santa's elves can get on it?
****I actually want a whole pleothra of Ron/Leslie/Ben/Andy/April/Tom/Ann/Donna stuff. But not J(G)erry.



5.12.12

List #169: Things I Wish Would Stop Happening


  • Radley climbing up my Christmas tree
  • Kay Jewelers commercials
  • Elf on a Shelf photos on Facebook
  • This cough
  • Piles of laundry
  • That creepy brother-sister Folgers commercial
  • 9 months of Royal Baby talk
  • Getting dresses that aren't big enough for my boobs
  • Watching Christmas movies alone
  • Dirty dishes
  • Worry
  • Runners in tights
  • Crushes who won't speak up
  • Gollum
  • Insomnia
  • Distance between friends
  • Fiscal Cliffs
  • Haunting memories
  • Grinches
  • Competition
  • Lack of happy surprises 

2.12.12

List #168: Things I Love About the Holidays 2: Christmas In My Home

Though this isn't the first holiday that I have spent alone, it is the first holiday where I am in a house (well, apartment) that is mine, all mine, and in the United States. And then though I feel restless a good amount of the time, I'm more settled than I have been at any other point in my life. I have a cat for goodness sake.

I have to admit, it's been a blast.

There's garland hanging from the archway between my dining and living rooms. 

This was done out of necessity to keep my favorite ornaments high out of the cat's grubby paws. 

There are stars hanging in my front windows. And my Nutcracker collection lines the shelf. And today I put together my first Christmas tree. Artificial and prelit. A Santa topper and vintage glass bulbs from boxes my has kept through time.

The tree borrowed from a friend.

I have no desire to leave the twinkling sparkles of my living room. And now that the cat isn't climbing the tree, he doesn't seem to mind it either. And for all of this, in a world of my own, I am thankful.


1.12.12

Letter #48: To the Last Month of the Year

Dear December,

You started this morning while I was still sleeping underneath covers, mildly aware of a draft coming in from a bedroom window. I whispered "rabbits, rabbits" before leaving the bed and took a long, hot shower. The cat meowed and was fed. I straightened my hair and got ready for work as the day started to break.

Your first day was barely beginning but I already listened to this song a half dozen times.
I've thought about the family member I miss the most and watched this video for the first time this holiday season. Picturing her and myself as the little girls in this video going on with adventure despite the bleak darkness of winter. And I cried because I miss her.

I treated myself to a chai tea in a new mug and imagined what the first day of December feels like on the other side of the country. 

I remembered December's past that felt warm and whole. And remembered that I cried for some of those too.

I thanked Mother Nature for temperatures in the 50s. And wore my red trench coat instead of something heavy.

Then I said one of those silent, personal prayers to all of December asking for more sweetness than sadness as the year wraps up. I hoped for treats and less troubles. I started reflections on what 2012 has meant to me but wondering if the last days will have any great shifts. Wondered if the Mayans might be right, and wondered what the fuss will be like on their last day. 

And then I started the first day of the last month of the year. It was time to go to work and light up the neighborhood. All the while, holding my breath while the year ends. 

Always.