I spent last weekend working on my two Idol entries—one fiction and one non-fiction—and that was after deciding to scrap the first try altogether. It was the end of my two-week vacation, and I thought I'd get more done while I was off, but it's pretty telling that I biked outdoors only on the Sunday before Xmas and the Sunday after New Years, because it was chilly and awful (or rainy) the rest of the time. That's pretty much what happened to my yardwork plans, too.
Speaking of things that are "telling," for Christmas, I got something from my mother that is our relationship in a nutshell. She decided to get L.L. Bean fleece pullovers/coverups/vests for all the kids (no idea why), and mine had to be sent to our house due to a stocking delay—because she "particularly wanted" me to have purple. Missing in this equation are some important questions:
Does Karen wear vests? No.
Does Karen like purple? Not really.
Does Karen wear purple? No.
Who likes and wears purple is my younger sister, who is much more like my mother in all respects. The other issue there is my mother's gift-giving style, which I've worked hard to eradicate in myself: giving people what you think they should want (because you like it, or it's the "right" thing for a person to want) instead of what you think they actually WILL want. Can you tell where the "J" in my INTJ personality comes from? *eyeroll*
I suspect I'm just going to have to return the thing (never easy, with L.L. Bean), and have them refund her money. I would never wear it. I already have a black fleece hand-me-down vest I never wear. No
In happier news, one of the fun aspects of my time off was watching my son play Goat Simulator on his phone. It is deeply weird, which of course is right up my alley. You wander around inside the video game as an indestructible goat, exploring, collecting trophies, and wreaking havoc (because after all... goat). There are alternate forms of the goat: an ostrich (which can fly, awkwardly), a penguin (which moves faster than the goat), and a giraffe (I think mainly for laughs, as the rubbery flailing limbs whenever it gets hit by a car or truck are hilarious). Any time the goat head-butts a car, it will explode. There are various people around, often dancing, and sometimes in groups. When they're in groups they usually have a sign, so I can't figure out whether the gatherings are protests or simply a warning to the goat. The signs say, "No pointy food." ?!?
I may have to borrow his phone and play that game myself. That would be in between packing up the Xmas stuff, reading Idol entries, and (let's mark the guilt down on the todo list now) pruning things in the yard. Maybe.
And for now... I'm late to bed again. Not much sleep this week. I can't wait for this big work project to be over. :(