Tis the Season

Tis the season to go shopping,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Donning our new apparel,
Fa la la, la la la, la la la.
Screw the ancient Yuletide carol,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

See the blazing Lines before us,
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Swipe your card or spend a few bucks.
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Oh… Those aren’t the words?

Friday, November 1st, I stop into dunkin on my way to work. It is then that I notice, a mere day after Halloween, the new dunkin cups (photo stolen from a google search since I did not snap my own on that grim day)

Mama say whaaaa- what is going on here?! Christmas already?!

So the truth is out, I’m a Jew, but let’s be clear, I am not a Christmas hater. I’m actually a Christmas lover- you thought I love John for his looks and charm. No, it was for the chance to celebrate Christmas. So this is not a post about hating on the holiday itself. This is a post about hating on the death of a holiday and the immoral celebration of consumerism. Which is ironic since I went shopping today for the holidays. And that is where this post begins.

For a girl that loves clothes, I do not enjoy shopping, particularly during the holidays. We are all at the mall for a similar goal- to find things for the people we love while sneaking in a few gifts for ourselves. So why are people psychotic during this time of the year? I’m sure there is a sociological study on the behavior of people during the holiday season. You have:

1. The slow walkers. The people that block off an entire walking area. They are usually looking confused and/or lost.

2. The teenager. They are probably not buying anything, but they are definitely getting in the way. They tend to get more feisty around the holiday season. Watch out.

3. The bratty kid. Dragged there by their parents, they are bored and exhausted. They are surrounded by toys and presents at every corner, but mom is not budging. this is not for you. Get ready for a tantrum.

4. The dragged around significant other. Similar to the bratty kid in that they do not want to be there. They are usually found looking for somewhere to sit. They are miserable.

5. The energetic soccer mom. Enough said.

So, today as I encountered all of these people, I began to really think about the meaning of the holidays. I always believed they were about spending time with family- in fact, gifts were never the most important part in my house. I’m not anti-gift, I actually love giving gifts. It’s a time to give something that a person may not buy themselves, but will adore and appreciate. The holidays, when it comes down to it, are about love. So, why is it that we focus solely on the gifts?

And now even Thanksgiving is being eradicated (Huffpo: stores open on Thanksgiving). So my friends, this year, buy gifts, be a crazy person in the mall, help the American economy, but please, please, please, do not forget the intent of these holidays.

I’m off to yoga to decompress. In my new lululemon shirt. Which was a gift. And I love it.

Working Girl

Not that kind. Gutter head.

If I was quiet all weekend it was only because I was working in Providence, Rhode Island. Swoon. I loved it.
I have an affinity for traveling to new cities. I don’t discriminate either. They each have their own story, culture, and history.

I also love to have my own king sized bed every once in a while. No boyfriend snoring. No fights over my problems with sheet stealing. The temperature is set to my desired warmth. And, most importantly, I love jumping on the bed by myself. It’s weird at first, because I am legitimately jumping around by myself, but then I turn into a child and instantly enjoy it.

Unfortunately, I did not get to experience the city for what is was, but I would love to go back.
When I did have time, I was able to walk around uphill Brown’s campus and snap some pictures.







This is a college campus. As a SUNY (state university of New York) girl, I know no such beauty. I guess this is what the big bucks pays for?! That and the fine edumacation these young students are receiving at Brown.

I believe I was mistaken for a college student a few times based on people looking for directions. excuse me, miss, do you know where… I politely let them finish their inquiry, despite knowing I already had no idea where anything was, and then said, no I’m sorry I don’t go here. Also, dear stranger, thank you for calling me “miss” and not the dreaded ma’am.

This trip made me incredulously nostalgic. I have zero desire to be in college again if that’s what you’re thinking I mean. My mid-twenties may just be the best years yet. I have money that I make! Remember those college days, scrapping together $3 to pay for that cab ride downtown, no thank you. But I did deeply miss walking around campus, I missed my girls, I missed the carefree I have no idea where life is taking me, attitude. Even though it was the most unsure I have ever been about myself and my future. That was part if what made it all so exhilarating.

A co-worker and I were recently discussing the wise old saying, youth is wasted on the young. she looked at me as though to insinuate I don’t know all that I have. I do. I love being young, but as I walked on that campus I understood exactly what she was saying. There were those years I took for granted, and sometimes rushed. I wanted to grow up too fast. I can’t rewind. I can’t regain years.

My awareness of my own wasted youth is what makes me cling on to my present and appreciate all of my days and all that’s around me. Also, I will never, I repeat never stop jumping on the hotel bed.