And he tagged me.

FIVE RANDOM AND WEIRD FACTS ABOUT SARAH

1. I only eat one thing at a time.  This was helpful during the Atkins diet, because I could start with the high protein foods and be full before I got to the high carb foods, but for the most part, it drives everyone around me batty.
2. I once sang back-up for Bob McGrath of Sesame Street.  There’s really no bigger thrill than singing “Rubber Duckie” on stage.  Seriously.
3. I was on-air as a dj when 9/11 happened.  As horrible as it sounds to the layman, that was my favorite day in my several years on-air, because I felt useful.  When people couldn’t piece together the images on tv, they turned my station on and I wrote concise, factual reports.  I was on-air for almost eight hours.
4. I rub my feet together to fall asleep when I’m sick or restless.  Habit from childhood.  I’ll systematically rub the insoles of my feet together until the rhythm puts me to sleep.  Bryan calls it “grinding [my] feet”.
5. I cannot eat the last of anything.  As a result, my fridge is full of bottles with one olive left, containers with one piece of fudge left, and 2 liter bottles with one swig of drink left.  Bryan is very helpful in making everything disappear, so that I don’t have to conquer this terrible obstacle.

.. you really ARE a heeeeel..

So it occurred to me last night that my lack of Christmas spirit is really sucking it up for everyone else.  NO ONE is happy.  NO ONE.  I can’t find anyone who seems to be psyched about the holiday.  And that’s what you’re supposed to say now, to be PC.. as Amy Pohler put it on SNL’s Weekend Update: “And just a reminder.. there’s only 7 more shopping days till Holiday.”

And didn’t you know Faith Hill and I were just blaring when “Where Are You, Christmas?” came on the radio while I was driving the other day.  I meant it.  Every word.  My world is changing; I’m rearranging.  Does that mean Christmas changes, too?

My parents’ house, which is usually SOMEWHAT decorated, looks like any other day of the year.  Bryan put up some gorgeous lights this weekend, which helps the outside.. but when it’s bleak inside, it doesn’t really matter what’s hanging from the eaves.  My house is the same way.  There’s lights framing the house, but the picture inside is rather dull.  And lifeless.

A lot of it is that I just don’t have the energy.  My body is tired.  Bryan’s is, too.  He worked a fifteen hour day on Saturday, then got up and hung lights on Sunday.  So it’s really MY fault that nothing’s up, nothing’s decorated.  He’s working.. I should be using my time in a Christmasy fashion.

And then, Bryan made the penultimate request: a Christmas tree.  Not for him, or for me.. we could live.  But for The Boy.  It had never even occurred to me.. that little boy needs a Christmas tree.  I’m sure he has one at his house, but.. there should be one at our house.  Because we’re trying to impress upon him that we’re a family..

.. and families have Christmas trees.

Neither Bryan nor I have any committments tonight.  I am DYING to get my hair cut, I have yet to buy a single Christmas present, and after a sleepless night last night, I could use a nap.. but I think it’s time that I realized that Christmas is not always for US.  Sometimes its for the little boys.  And little boys need Christmas trees.