Boxing Day is what?

I got tapped to do this year's Boxing Day story because I, apparently, was the only one in the room who knew what Boxing Day is. OK, one of a few.

My mission: To hunt down vacationing Canadians and ask them how they are celebrating Boxing Day. I've been stalking the parking lots at IHOP for a few days.

Now, I grew up with Canadian parents who observed Boxing Day as the holiday it is in Canada, Great Britain and Australia. My dad never worked on Boxing Day, my mom always made sure she put out tips for the mailman, garbage man, and anyone else who performed services.

That's what the day is for, after all. That and gathering up -- boxing up, if you will -- gifts and items for the poor.

Not only could I not find many Canadians here this winter, the ones I did talk to told me what Boxing Day has become. A day of shopping. Fucking consumerism. So a day that was all about giving has now become all about greed.

I think my parents would not be pleased.

My Christmas Tree

This is my first Christmas tree in my new house.

I'm sure my therapist would have something to say about the fact that I've put up the tree in the corner of my living room that's devoted to my Titanic collection.

Whatever.

Also, apparently, South Carolina doesn't believe in icicles. The kind you put on your tree -- the long, thin tinsely kind. I spent YEARS learning from my mom exactly how to place them properly, and now I cannot find any to put on my own tree, and for the rest of the holidays, I'm going to wander around my house feeling like I've forgotten something important.

South Carolina non-icicle-having bastards.

Bears! In our trees!

We have bears! Bears right here in the MB!

I just noticed I haven't posted here in almost a month. If you had asked me how long it has been, I wouldn't have guessed more than two weeks.

How does that happen?

I don't even know if anyone is still reading this, but I'll catch up this week, anyway. If no one is still reading, I'm going to rant away. ha ha.

Huh.

Add to the list of things I don't understand: Facebook.

I don't get it.

I mean, I know what it is, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it.

Virtually save the rainforests? How about actually doing something real to save the rainforests?

And I don't get the messaging thing. We all have e-mail. If we didn't, we couldn't have Facebook pages. So if you want to e-mail me, just do that. Why do you need to post something on my "wall," which then gets sent to my e-mail? Why not just e-mail me?

And now I have people on my "friends list" who I barely know. I wouldn't say we were "friends," but I don't know the etiquette of Facebook -- if I don't agree to someone's friend request, their request just hangs around like a sad mime at the edge of a park, hoping a crowd will come up and let him do the "I'm in the box and can't get out" thing.

Someone sent me virtual candy. And plants. What am I supposed to do with those? And am I a bad person if I don't send you candy or plants back? I don't even know how.

Apparently, I can join Facebook groups, too, like the "I love tennis shoes" group. Again, I don't get it. I love Cheap Trick, right? And when I want to talk about my love for the band, I go to the CT message boards and talk to other fans, but only people who are into it go there -- I'm not posting my discussions there for everyone on Facebook to see. There's no need, and most people don't really give a rat's ass.

Maybe it's just not my thing.

Wow

I wish my parents could have seen this day.

We're now, at least in some ways, the country we have always said we were.

One of my favorite movie-theater moments

Ha! I sat down to update the blog, read a couple things elsewhere and drink some water, and saw that the Baz Luhrmann version of "Romeo + Juliet" is on, and it reminded me of the first time I saw it in the theater.

I was with my friend Steve Rogers in Arkysaw, and there were only four other people in the theater -- two couples, one of which was sitting down the row from Steve and I.

So it gets to the part where Romeo thinks Juliet is dead and drinks the poison and dies, and the guy sitting down the row says loudly "Damn!"

At first I though maybe he spilled his soda or dropped Junior Mints into his popcorn.

Then comes there part where, in this version, Juliet wakes up, finds Romeo dead and shoots herself in the head.

The guy down the row again says "Damn," but even louder this time. Steve and I realize it is not a soda or popcorn mishap.

Then, as we're filing out after the pair of starcrossed lovers take their lives, the guy from down the row tells his date, "Wow, that was a fucked up endin'."

The only person in the world who did not know how Romeo & Juliet ends.

It was awesome.

Push it

Even if I hadn't worked seven straight days this week, it has just been a difficult week. My work hours have been extra long, and it has been cold and dark by the time I've left the office most every night, and I just did not have the chance to get out on the bike after my dinner break on Sunday evening. Things are tense right now because it's election week and people are uptight (although I LOVE Election Night in the office and CANNOT FREAKIN' WAIT for Tuesday).

I was all psyched up to get out to my unfinished subdivision today for a bike ride, but I worried I had wrecked all the momentum I built up over the past couple weeks by not being able to ride for the past five days.

Just a few days can make such a difference, especially when you feel like everything is conspiring against your best intentions and goals.

I was tired. I haven't slept well this week, I hadn't eaten anything today except a brown-rice California roll and a cup of Starbucks, and the first seven minutes were hard. Really hard. My legs were tired, my back hurt a little and that bike seat just did not feel right.

I promised myself I was going to bike as far as I had the last time out without resting, and even though I didn't feel totally confident, I felt hopeful.

I fired up the iPod and put my head down and just kept pedaling, even when my legs wanted to stop. Sometimes I moved slower than I wanted, but I kept going forward, and kept telling myself I didn't have to hurry, but I had to get past that two-mile mark before I could stop for 30 seconds.

After about a half mile, I started to feel better. It was more fun. Still hard, but I looked around and realized today was a gorgeous day and I had the sun on my face and it felt good. Suddenly, my back didn't hurt anymore and my legs were warmed up, and even though I'd already passed the marker I'd set for myself, I could keep going. So I did. I rode almost the whole thing without resting and went back and rode half the subdivision again, then rode a couple times around the lake in the middle.

Sometimes, after you get past that one hurdle, you put in that one last push, no matter how hard it seems, things get so much easier. Some hurdles are, of course, bigger than others.

By the time I got done, 30 minutes after I started -- 15 minutes more than I thought I could do today -- I realized I can keep this up.

Yes I can.