Thanksgiving and Football and Shopping

So. I should be writing my novel for the NaNo. I have been, every day. However, this isn't what this post is about.

First, let me say this. I work in retail. I have so for the past two years. This is my third Black Friday. Now, my store gives us associates the chance to write down when we'd like to have our Black Friday shift. My first year, we opened at 4 AM, I believe, and I was scheduled noon to 10 PM - I didn't pick this, I didn't even know I could. My second year, my co-workers encouraged me to go for open (something about it being crazy and awesome, and must be experienced). I couldn't because my family's Thanksgiving was a good hour-and-a-half away, and the store opened at midnight that year. So I opted for 6 AM to 4 PM.

That. Was horrifying. But that's a story for another time, perhaps.

This year, Corporate's moved up open to 8 PM Thanksgiving Day. A lot of companies did that last year. I changed my request from "mid" to "close", accordingly. I didn't want to get caught up in the crazy of last year, and "mid" this year could very well mean anywhere from midnight to noon. Folks, I'm something of an introvert who happens to also be a Type A personality (or choleric). Thusly, big crowds for an extended period of time overwhelm me.

Soon after the news of our opening on Thanksgiving Day for a Black Friday sale event, I saw this image pop up all over facebook by people who are also in the retail industry - or have been:

Let me say this: I agree. Thanksgiving is a family holiday. It's one of those few days of the year where nearly everyone has off and can come together to spend time out of their otherwise busy schedule. Not only that, it nearly forces us to be thankful, which, in today's culture and mindset, is often an unvisited and underused practice.

And there's awesome food. What's not to love?

It's kind of ironic that the day after we celebrate being thankful, and content ourselves with the blessings in our lives, people run around on a mad, greedy dash to get some pretty awesome deals.

So it's a little frustrating that said day is now infringing on the day of thankfulness, contentment, and, oh yeah, family. Especially by companies that often depict their products being used and enjoyed by families who are also enjoying fellowship with one another.

Oh well, as long as I get to enjoy at least some of those football games, you know, the ones put on by people who have to work all day long to put that one for my entertainment and enjoyment.

Crazy Things, Man, Crazy Things....

So. Hello. It's been a while. I apologize for this. I'm extremely bad at keeping such things up. Which, oddly enough, kind of segues into what I'm blogging about.

I'm thinking of doing something crazy.

"What is that? What are you thinking of doing that's crazy?" You ask.

Why, I'll tell you.

I'm thinking (somewhat seriously) about doing the NaNoWriMo.

"Aaaahhh..."

Yes. Yes, now you see what it's so crazy. I have no idea how to go about this. Sure, I've written mult-chapter fictional pieces (sure, they may have been fanfiction), but, you know how I write them? Chapter by chapter. How do other people write them?

Outlines. Outlines, character biographies, drafts. Me? Ha, I usually say. Not this time, though.

No, this time, I think I shall have to think in such terms. Seriously, I've got one month to write this. I need to know what I'm writing.

This is terrifying. I don't know what I'm doing.

Someone send help. And chocolate. Always chocolate.

Fireflies

Right across the street from my driveway is a field. It's a field of tall grass, and uneven ground – or, so I assume. There's a clump of trees to the left of my driveway, on the edge, but they are small, and practically bushes. Yards away from the street, the ground turns up to become a hill, and, at the base, a line of trees that continues back – paused by the creek that runs parallel the road – and up the hill. The woods.

During the day, the sun shines down brightly, and you can see that the grass is clumped together, and one really doesn't care to try walk through it. In fact, it's rather...uninteresting, and probably home only to small tunneling creatures, such as rabbits, moles, and snakes – though I've never seen them. A handful of times a year, the grass gets mowed down by a tractor, but it's still a mess, and still looking as though it lacks adventure to be had.

But at night, in the late spring and early summer, things are different.

At dusk, they appear. When the sun sets, and the sky grays down to its midnight blue, they come out in droves.

Their lights twinkle and shimmer in the dark. That's all you see of them. Some of them are back in the trees, near the ground as well as up in the branches. Some are near the road, and you feel as though you can catch them if you go to the edge of the field. Most, however, are in between. And they dance back and forth, appearing here, appearing there, and then disappearing immediately afterwords.

They make the field look alive with magic. Their glimmering in the gentle heat of the summer night air call to you, begging your eyes to feast on their yellow ethereal beauty.

Some are only momentary appearances, while others may linger a second longer. But none last. They are a mystery among themselves, you think, winking at you without realizing it. It's the stars come down to earth. It's...wonderful.

They're fireflies, I know they are.

But, when I see them, just for a little, I almost believe that they are fairies.  

Sexy vs. Beautiful

Let's think Sexy vs. Beautiful.

Sexy is generally a term used to show..."appreciation" for physical attributes. It's a term used say that something looks particularly good. Whether it's a car, a woman, a man, or a TARDIS. Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

Beautiful is something a bit more. It's a word to describe how a person or thing is attractive. But, not just the outside. It's the inside and outside of the person, if you will. It's their inner strength, their gentleness and kindness. And then there's the outside - the physical attributes.

But, really. For beauty, first and foremost are what's most important. Beautiful isn't skin deep. Sexy is.

Which would you rather be called?

Just a thought.

Happy New Year. One and All.

It's a new year. 2012. How do you feel about that? Excited? Nervous? Scared? Happy?

To be quite honest: I don't know myself. I'm not exactly excited. Not nervous. Not scared. Not really happy. I'd say neutral, at best. Which is funny, because, for the last three or so years, I always had this inexplicable feeling of dread. I was so frightened of what would happen when the ball would drop, ushering in the celebrations of a whole new year. Funny, right?

This year, I kind of decided, there was nothing to fear. Nothing to be nervous about. Sure, I don't know what will happen. But, Lord willin' and the creek don't rise, the sun will come up in the East come morn, and set in the west once evening falls. What's that verse? Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Something like that.

And yet, the new year could mean something to people. Perhaps it means the first year without a loved one. In that case, I am sorry. I will grieve for you, with you. If that is the case, I dearly hope that this new year will be a year of mending and healing. Of comfort and joy, with the sorrow fading, but the memory of love ever lingering.

A new year could mean one of fear. Of the unknown. Perhaps you fear the unknown. You fear of failures to come, of no tomorrow. You're scared out of your wits that you will be hated, that your darkest secrets will come to light this year, and you will be abhorred for them. If that is the case, I do hope and pray that they do come to light. But, in doing so, they become demolished, and you find forgiveness. And in that forgiveness, you find freedom.

One last thing. Perhaps this year means hope. A fresh start. New beginnings. I do hope this is the case. I want your mistakes of last year - and all previous ones - to wash away. I want you to live this new year in the light, with you pushing ever onward as a new creature.

And, really, I wish this on everyone. I hope and pray that you all realize that you can be comforted, that you can be made brave - can put faith in Someone who will always hold you up and close in the face of the unknown, and Who can give you a new beginning. A fresh start. Who can wash away those sins and say, "You are a new creature. My beloved child."

Happy New Year! May it be blessed and full of grace!

The Lord is good.

I heard in a sermon today that we often forget the real meaning of the season. The Christmas season, that is. And, I couldn't help but think that, perhaps, it's not so much that we forget. It's that we simply take it for granted.

How often to you forget you're breathing? All the time, right? And, it's not that you've forgotten to breathe, heavens, no. You can't forget to breathe. It's impossible, because it's an involuntary action, one completely controlled by your sub-conscious, much like the beating of your heart, you can't turn it off. But, you don't always remember that you're doing it. Not until you think about it (My guess? You're paying attention to your breathing right now because of this li'l ol' paragraph. ;] ).

It's a bit like Christmas. We all know (though perhaps we may not all agree) the meaning and story behind it. How can't we? We see the nativities everywhere, we hear 'Silent Night' fifty times a day, and it is one of the special occasions people who don't normally go to church go to church. But, for how many of us does it still remain special? For how many of us does Christmas remain a sacred time?

Breathing is taken for granted, and yet it's very nearly the very essence of living.

Christ came down on Christmas day, from His rightful place as the Son of God, to be human, and eventually to be crucified on the cross for our sins. He died so we can live. He is the very essence of living. And we take His birth for granted.

Guys. We're really stupid. Really, really stupid. We do stupid things. Think stupid things. We're just stupid. We're full of sin, which is pretty much while we're stupid.... And, seriously. Take a step back, and look at yourself. Truly, deeply, look at yourself. You are despicable. I should know. 'Cuz so am I.

And, yet, here we have a baby born 2,000 or so years ago that loves us way more than we could ever love ourselves. A baby.

The Lord is good. We can all go on all day long complaining about our lives, our family situations, our work, whatever. And we can do it all on before, on, and after Christmas day. And so forget why we give each other gifts, and just take for granted that we're celebrating the day at all.

The Lord's too good for us. And He still came.

Merry Christmas.

Bah Humbug!

Let's get something straight. I love Christmas. It's my favorite holiday. I love the look. I love the feel. I love the smell. I love the music. Scratch that. I adore the music! Michael W. Smith? Best Christmas music ever. And that's a true story.

Anyways, so, it's my favorite. However. It's not Christmas yet. Thanksgiving hasn't even come to pass. So, all this Christmas-music-playing-shenanigans? That has got to stop. I understand that it can be good for the business (yeah, I'm talking to you, retail stores!) But, c'mon!! Everybody knows it's coming up!

So, I just wanted you to know. Christmas can't officially start until Black Friday. So there.

The end.