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Happy New Year. Me and the kids are watching the Simpsons movie and are all still happily pajama-ed. Everyone else is asleep.

Last night’s post was chosen over this other gushy post about standing out on the beach with the husband a few minutes after midnight and the universe and how time is ours because it’s not real. And somehow I had the sense to not hit “Publish,” knowing that I would look at it in the morning and e-blush. So instead I tapped into my more belligerent self and posted something only slightly less embarrassing for both you and me. It worked, yes?

But honestly I think New Year’s has become one of my least favorite holidays. There are all of these expectations for it, how it’s supposed to be this wild party to usher in a new beginning. And so often my feelings at midnight have been far short of that. But last night was nice. True, I was not sober. But besides that I think it had something to do with seeing Dick Clark propped up for the TV, held together with tape and chicken wire and wheezing his way through the countdown. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. What kind of species does that to someone? But instead of listening to Ryan Seacrest talk to a group of nobodies about how magical Times Square is, I watched that live Radiohead concert and it was perfect for my mood. It might have something to do with the knowledge that Bush will be out of office soon and even if my hopes for the upcoming election are as grim as ever, perhaps everyone can embrace their inner lunatic and make interesting art again, change culture, shed their shithead shells, turn inward, and then maybe emerge unafraid to call out the bullshit.

A tall order, perhaps. But what’s stopping us?

Anyway, not long after midnight, Tracey and Jamie took a quick stroll on the beach and when they came back they told us we had to go check it out. The tide was extremely low so as we made our way to the water’s edge we seemed to walk forever. And when we looked up at the stars dripping from the sky and the ocean disappeared into the horizon making it look infinite, I managed to forget that we were on earth. People set off fireworks behind us and I couldn’t imagine how someone could look at that sky and not be overwhelmed at the enormity of it all. This tiny little rock that we stand on, hurtling through space and us celebrating our invention of time, the only thing we all agree on.

Yeah. In any case, it was at least more exciting than last year, when we all slightly raised our heads in the middle of an Ace of Cakes marathon. At least we managed to stand up this year.

I find myself in a pissy mood this morning. Mostly because we have to go home tomorrow and I’m having such a nice time here. And also we’re out of Midas Touch and I think I have something of an addiction.

Yeah, it’s a meme. What do you want from me?

1. Where did you begin 2007?
Living room of a beach house in Rehoboth, DE. I went to bed around 12:06 or some shit after we rang in the new year by watching an Ace of Cakes marathon. It was extremely low-key

2. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?
Took the GRE, got accepted into grad school, went to grad school, put my one and only child on a bus for kindergarten, slept while my house was burglarized, went to court, I guess technically started my own blog, though I bought the domain over a year ago.

3. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don’t make resolutions anymore but my mandates from last year were taking the GRE and getting my driver’s license. I took the GRE. I didn’t get my license. Fuck driving.

4. Were you in school (anytime this year)?
Yep. Non-degree student for spring semester, grad student in fall semester.

5. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My friends Cristina and Ed had their first baby in June and my cousin had her SEVENTH baby just a few weeks ago.

6. Any new additions to your family?
The new little cousin referenced in #5

7. Did anyone close to you die?
Not close per se, but my grandmother on my dad’s side died first thing 2007. That was pretty sad. A lifelong friend of my parents died in the spring. I was friends with his kids when I was little. Also very sad.

8. Did you know anybody who got married?
A former grad student at my school got married last month.

9. What countries did you visit?
I don’t mess around with other countries (read: I’m broke)

10. How did you earn your money?
Workin for the man every night and day. Cleaned a lot of plates in Memphis. Pumped a lot of tane down in New Orleans. Also: writin’

11. Where did most of your money go?
Billz.

12. Did you have any encounters with the police?
Yep. They visited my house after it got broken into and I’ve talked to them about that incident many times since then.

13. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
Some more money. I should probably start going to therapy again. Some sleep.

14. What date from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
June 17. It was our first wedding anniversary and it fucking sucked. September 21. Our house was burglarized. December 6. My baby turned six.

15. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Living through this past semester. I really thought I was going to die there for awhile.

16. What was your biggest failure?
Flipping out at people.

17. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing serious.

18. Where did you go on holidays/vacation?
We’ll be making the rounds of various grandparents’ houses and then a few days after Christmas we came to Rehoboth Beach again.

19. What was the best thing you bought?
I get pretty excited about my citrus juicer every time I use it, frankly.

20. Whose behavior merited celebration?
I don’t know, man.

21. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Pretty much everyone’s.

22. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
The fall semester ending.

23. Did you move anywhere?
NO.

24. Where do you live now?
In my house in Pittsburgh, PA.

25. What song will always remind you of 2007?
“The Day” by Platinum. Possibly because as soon as I heard it I thought, “FUCK, this would have been perfect for our wedding.” Oh, well. Also, “Umbrella” by Rihanna, some track by Cybotron that I can never remember the name of (cause Model 500 played it at DEMF while some dancers jitted and it was amazing), “Funky Good Time,” by the JBs.

This is what I saw when I woke up this morning:

Know what that is? Here’s a closer look:

Yes. Yes, indeed. I’m at the beach with some dudes. Let me tell you, being able to hear the ocean as you fall asleep is definitely how life should be.

The kids are playing Godzilla: Unleashed on the Wii and that is several kinds of awesome.

Hearing them develop their little trash talkin’ tactics is simultaneously adorable and annoying, since it still involves a healthy dose of whining.

Everyone else is like:

Of course, I have a headache because I wore my glasses most of this morning and I bent the shit out of them the other day. After I took them off I got all dizzy from being too used to the crookedness. They are 9 years old. I should maybe consider investing in some new spectacles before I go completely blind.

Approximately 10 minutes after I hit “publish” on this post about how luxurious and lesiurely my vacation had been thus far, all hell broke loose. Well, not all hell, but a good bit of it. The husband called me to tell me that we needed to be at his mom’s house in about 20 minutes and that I needed to wrap all of the presents for that side of the family. What was amusing about that was that I had not showered in about two days (I think? There was no telling by that point…), the baby and I were still in pajamas and most importantly I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE FUCKING GOING ANYWHERE. I also couldn’t understand why we were going to have “dinner” at 1:30 in the afternoon and why I had no recollection of the husband informing me of this even though he insisted he told me about this on Saturday. Things got real mature at that point. I hung up on him and he called his mom and told her to call and nag me so I hung up on her and stomped around and screamed at the pile of laundry that had been mocking me since about, uh, August.

But I dutifully wrapped the presents in a whirlwind of tape and paper and put some kind of clothing on the baby and myself. We had dinner and presents and I squinted at the TV while Uncle Chuck and Aunt Gigi smoked Newports in the dining room.

The rest of Christmas Eve was fine and Christmas was cool, too. More about all that later. The day after Christmas was apparently Coma Day. I stayed up pretty late the night before watching Scrooged. We didn’t wake up until almost 12:30 pfuckingm and only because the baby, bless his heart, tapped me and said, “Mum, can I please have something to eat?” So I got up and did some of that parenting stuff for awhile and then while I was getting dressed, the cat jumped up on the bed, meowed at me and I couldn’t resist. I got back into bed and slept another three hours.

Then today we were supposed to go back to my grandparents’ house and visit with my cousins and their 5 billion kids but when we got in the car, the car said, “Chugga chugga chugga chugga ptttthhhhhhh.” So we were stranded at my mother-in-law’s house again and then she told her children to go down the street and exchange gifts with the neighbor’s 5-month-old baby who does not give a shit about anyone who does not have a teething ring at the moment. Amazingly enough, her children were blase about the whole thing and I ended up instigating that exchange. fuckers.

And I think my mom is conjuring up some other arbitrary social obligation for me to be pissy about, which should be interesting since, uh, we don’t have a car at the moment. Fun!

I put a load of laundry in the washer and then got back into bed because it was REALLY exhausting. My cat jumped up and joined me, gave me a little back massage, then flopped down in front of me so I could scratch him in the way that makes him lick his chest and shoulders and arms and my bra a little bit.

And that’s about all I’ve accomplished so far. Being on vacation is glorious.

So we actually ventured to the mall yesterday. It wasn’t TOO insane. But I find that when our little crew finds ourself in an environment like that, our only thought is to make it out. Survival instincts kick in and the goal of finding gifts for loved ones seems to vanish. At one point we were just walking briskly through the crowd, passing all of the stores. When we got to the end of the mall, we all exhaled like, “Thank god we made it through,” and then we had to just go back into the thick of it when we realized that we were empty handed.

That wasn’t as bad as when I went to Macy’s downtown with my mom on Saturday. The combined experience of downtown Pittsburgh in 2007 and the weekend before Christmas was a bit much for me. Everyone was either dazed or miserable. My mom kept asking me if I needed to go buy anything. I did, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was just icky and depressing. But the baby went into the little shop that they have set up so that kids can buy stuff for their family members and went to see Santa again. Santa asked the baby if he had been good and done his chores, specifically stuff like brushing his teeth and whatnot. He asked him if he picked up his toys when he is asked to and the baby glanced at me and the smirk I had on my face and said, “Uh, you don’t want to ask about that.” Smartass.

Anyway, the baby and I need to get started on making some cookies for Santa. Then I’ll probably have to scratch the cat some more. I’m booked solid, peeps.

I just had a lurvely lunch with Ms. Jennie. We strolled to Ali Baba* and noshed on bazilla. She showed me proofs from baby Donovan’s most recent photo shoot and honestly that kid is so gorgeous, it’s kind of criminal. We talked about motherhood and books and post-mortem photography and the Iraq and the rapid descent of humanity into douchebaggery. You know…cheery stuff.

But really such a nice time. I obviously need more lunch dates in my life.

*I had forgotten just how cheap that place is. My god! I had a delicious bowl of hearty lamb and pea soup and a nice big plate of grape leaves and my lunch was like $10! If you’re in Oakland ever you need to start eating there is all I’m saying.

I get my grad school tuition for free through my work which is, no lie, extremely awesome. What bites is that I have to pay the taxes on my tuition and that is done by taking huge, scary chunks of money out of my paycheck for three months. And I don’t make very much money to begin with. So that might be partially to blame for the shopping malaise I mentioned earlier. Buying gifts kind of pales in comparison to, say, electricity and food.

Note to self: go secure a student loan or some shit tomorrow. Cripes.

Another money WTF goes to these slippers. They’re adorable and the baby would freak out to receive them but 45 DOLLARS?!?! For slippers??!?! If you wear them they get all sweaty and nasty. So are you just supposed to treat them as a collector’s item? And really if you start collecting slippers isn’t that…a bad sign?

So here’s a riddle for you: how many yinzers does it take to put up a Christmas tree? Cause in our house that blessed event went something like:

Husband brings in tree. Grunts. Plops tree in stand. Wife holds tree “straight.” Husband tightens screws, tells wife to let go. Wife lets go, tree leans in swiftly to give her a prickly kiss. Wife rejects tree’s advances. Husband whines, gets saw, saws branches off tree, plops tree back into stand. Wife holds tree “straight.” Husband tightens screws. Wife tells son to go to the doorway and look to see if the tree is straight. Son leaves the room entirely. No, this doorway.
What doorway?
THIS DOORWAY. That you just walked through!
Oh, okay.
Does the tree look straight?
What tree?
THE ONLY 6-FOOT TREE IN THE ROOM.
Yes.
Wife lets go. Tree stays upright. Wife looks at tree from left side, declares it straight. Wife starts to walk away and notices from the other angle that the tree is anything but straight. Husband starts to whimper, holds tree “straight.” Wife crouches down and starts going at the screws. Wife’s ample bottom overtakes her, causing wife to involuntarily sit in a pile of needles. Wife rises gingerly. Tree is now crooked in a whole new direction, but better than before. Husband challenges tree to a fight by shoving it and is shocked to see that it falls over when you do that. Wife crouches down again, fiddles with screws. Tree is now straight-ish.

Obviously, since I put a rather hellacious semester to rest yesterday, I was really trying to cut a little loose last night. The baby was spending the night at my mother-in-law’s house because the husband was playing records at Remedy last night and I wanted to go with him. But first we stopped at my prof’s house for a party for the graduating MAs. I made a beeline for the wine and commenced relaxing. My prof’s husband played his musical saw for us which was pretty cool.

I went with the other MAs to the Sharp Edge for a beer and then went to Remedy where I had another beer. Quantity-wise I wasn’t going crazy, but I was a little slurry. When we got home we watched TV for a bit and then passed out in bed. When we woke up this morning, I came to the really crappy realization that I had slept with my bra on.

Ugh.

I have to go shower because the baby and I are heading to the airport with my mother-in-law in a little bit to pick up my sister-in-law who has been studying abroad in Argentina for the past six months. I don’t think she would appreciate a welcome home from someone with red wine mouth and scented by Eau de Cigarettes.

I don’t understand why I can’t just snap my fingers and have bagels and cream cheese appear in front of me.

I’m getting myself motivated to get up and get my coffee and the baby wants some tea. Yeah, it’s that kind of a day. Classes are over. I turned in my last regular assignment yesterday (and had a nightmare last night that I did it totally wrong because that prof’s directions are always 40 pages long and I don’t have time for all that), and I have a final portfolio due next Friday. I imagine I’ll be able to get it done before then. And then I shall say farefuckingwell to this semester. It was such a bear. My classes were good and I learned a lot but it was way too hard overall. Interestingly enough, that seems to be the consensus among any student types that I talk to.

I really felt like the last few weeks I was just barely hanging on. I skimmed readings to try to get the general idea, but I think I stopped actually reading early in November. I did assignments with the sole goal of getting them done, no real concern over whether or not it was any good.

At some point it all got to be too much and I’ll feel really stupid if my grades suck because I overextended myself (for the record, grades sucking is C level. I’m perfectly happy with Bs). I just really want to get through this program relatively quickly so I can start working in a field that really uses whatever interests or talents that I claim to have.

My version of motivation is so weird. I was telling Angela the other day that I don’t really have any ambitions in life…not career-wise, anyway. It may sound trite but my family is what makes me happy. I want a career that will help me provide for them, that I like, and that will never try to take precedence in my life. I understand that if I don’t commit myself to working 100 hours a week, I’m never going to be some hotshot, but I just don’t care about any of that. Even if I didn’t have the husband or the baby, I would never want to spend all of my time working. I value the time that I’m able to just sit and think too much. I feel like a lot of people around my age are obsessed with finding the perfect career or the best career, but I feel like I’ll never have passion for any profession as much as I have passion for just living and being. Seriously, how could any job even hope to come close?

The baby is six years old today. That, if you weren’t aware, is really crazy. This morning, after I woke him up with my warbly rendition of “Happy Birthday” and forced some oatmeal into him and pushed him onto the school bus after a rousing game of “I’m gonna kick snow on your shoes. STOP IT!”, the husband and I drove into work/school and I mentioned that at that time six years ago we had a brand new, tiny baby and I was enjoying the world through the lens of morphine.

Our memories of the actual birth are very fuzzy. I was induced and we discovered early on that the baby had turned and was poised to enter the world feet-first. My doctor came in the morning and tried to turn him. The baby’s heart rate plummeted and they rushed me back for a C-section.

I remember the nurses scurrying down the hall with me, crying. I remember clutching one of many awesome nurses as they gave me the spinal injection. I remember my legs feeling like they were disappearing and slowly becoming quite out of it. I remember the husband appearing by my side, focusing on my eyes because he didn’t want to see what was going on down below. I remember them saying that the baby was out shortly after 8 a.m. I remember hearing my son cry for the first time a few minutes later.

The husband remembers going to Jimmy John’s to get a sandwich after everyone was settled. Whatever.

Anyway, one of the gifts that we got him is a copy of Now We Are Six, because it’s awesome and I got it when I was six and what’s nicer than cuddling up with some Winnie the Pooh? We also got him this awesome hat:

We got that at Hot Topic of all places. Apparently, Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends is huge with the pseudo-punk/indie/goth/hipster set. Can’t blame them. Foster’s is awesome.