Keep Smilin’! Keep Shinin’! Knowin’ You Can ALWAYS Count On Me! For Sure!

In a startling, unlooked for break with tradition, this little Gift Card O’ Happy Happy Joy Joy appeared in Di’s annual Christmas card:

Man, oh MAN.
You know what? That? That right there? That’s what friends are for.

Making a Joyful Noise

With my penchant for musical theater (and a strong background in choral singing), is it any wonder that nothing says Christmas to me like flying along the Capital Beltway at five o’clock in the morning at breakneck velocity, joyfully belting out the stirring and majestic Hallelujah! chorus from one of the great musical wonders of the world, Handel’s Messiah?

“And he shall reign for ever and eh-eh-VER,
For EVER! and EVER! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
(dramatic pause)
HALL-EEEEEEE-LUUUUUUUU-JAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Chills. I swear. Handel was totally the Andrew Lloyd Webber of his day, y’all. His Messiah oratorio is, like, 18th-century Jesus Christ Superstar, I’m telling you what.

I must say, For Unto Us a Child is Born brings on the Christmas jollies, as well. It’s joyful! And colorful! And SKIPPY. And that part after “And his name shall be call-ed…” when the violins come crashing in and the entire ensemble cries out “WONDERFUL! COUNSELOR! The mighty GOD!…”? Seriously, just… WOW. By merit of this piece’s sheer musicality alone, even the most hardened Scroogemeister could begin to think that perhaps Jesus might have something going for him after all, you know? Well, at least while listening to this music, anyway. It’s just THAT good.

Of course, when I exit the Beltway and hit the stoplights, I do get a few curious stares from other early-morning commuters. I’m just saying that perhaps my music may be cranked up rather loud. And I might– just MAYBE, mind you– on occasion bop my head up and down. And, um… conduct. Exuberantly. Hey! When conducting an ensemble of combined choirs, soloists and orchestra, while simultaneously attempting to nail the contralto and/or soprano part (and occasionally tenor, just for variety, you know?) AND keep one’s car from swerving into oncoming traffic, there is no time for restraint! But whatever. Staring is RUDE, yo?

Gosh. I’m FINALLY feeling the season.

Hallefreakinglujah.

It’s just another manic Monday.

Wow! Have you ever had one of those Monday mornings when you are just ON FIRE, like, rushing around your cubicle in a virtual organizational frenzy, cleaning out drawers, filing away old dockets, setting tasks for the day and goals for the week? And when you check your email there are no frantic requests from your boss asking where in the hell that document you were supposed to have to her by Friday ended up, because it sure as shooting was NOT in her Inbox as requested? And you remembered to pack a lunch– midday snack included!– so there it sits on your desk all nice and tight, and you glance at it every so often with a relieved smile because you know you will not have to scrounge the snack machine in the lounge for something relatively nutritional to eat? And you remembered socks, a sports bra, and BOTH of your running shoes so you can go jogging during your lunch break with your running partner? And your hair is clean and healthy and totally NOT frizzy and looking stylishly cute, and you are quite frankly rocking a bit of the sexy with the volume and curl and whatnot, even if you do say so yourself? And your pants are clean and ironed and your boots match your watch and your socks match, er… each other? Have you?! Huh?! HAVE YOU?!

Yes? Really?

Oh.

What’s that like?

How to charm the socks off of me (but pretty much no one else, really…)

While riding the D.C. Metro subway system with one harried momma and one snoozing daddy, on your way to visit the National Christmas Tree in D.C., just go ahead and wreak havoc on the train by running wildly through the car, spinning on the poles, singing Christmas carols at the top of your six-year-old lungs, or by situating your seven- and nine-year-old selves right at the front of the subway car, pressing your faces to the window, and announcing in shrill gaiety to no one in particular, “Eight more stops!… Seven more stops!… Six more stops!… Oooooh! Tunnel! Tunnel! TUNNEL!”

And even though I MAY have loudly disclaimed any knowledge of who those “damned maniac children” belonged to, I was laughing on the inside.

No, seriously.

Making lemonade again?

This?! Totally happened again.

GOSH! Head above heart! HEAD ABOVE HEART! Just keep that head above the heart and all will be well! Right? RIGHT?! Seriously. How difficult could it be to remember to keep one’s head out of the toilet bowl when vomiting?! Huh?! WAY difficult, apparently. Boo.

*sigh*

On the upside, I’m having a super good time concocting elaborate stories of fistfights at Target over the last sale-priced Bratz doll, a close encounter with a slippery wet floor and a doorknob, and even this doozy of a story about a freak falling Christmas tree accident at the mall (my fave!). Who knew bruised-up eyes could be so fun?

Because when life hands you lemons… well, you know the rest.

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