Saturday, December 31, 2011

Another Year, Another Day . . .

Happy birthday to Christina . . . 
Happy birthday to Christina . . . 
Happy birthday happy birthday 
Happy birthday to Christina . . .

 My littlest brother doesn't exactly know the words to the song.  But it's the sentiment that counts, and at two years old, that sentiment is enough for me.

Another year, another day, and today I'm seventeen.  People always look at me with an inquisitive glance when I comment under my breath that I didn't ever suppose I would live this long.

I guess it's not that I thought I would die before this . . . just that I never imagined myself at seventeen.  When I was young I never imagined myself any older.  I don't think that I could if I tried.

But if I were to go back and ask myself, at seven years old, if this me ten years later was acceptable, she would say yes.  Or at least a "hmaybe."

I feel older today.  People always joke about how you never feel older on your birthday, just the same as you did the year before and the year before but I do feel older.  Just a little, just a fraction.  Staring at myself in the mirror this morning, I was trying to imagine.  Seventeen whole years of existence.  Seventeen years is a long time-- not necessarily in terms of age, because there are a trillion people older than seventeen, but still.  A lot happens in seventeen years.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Just words

The fire is burning cheerily in its place.  Outside, the wind blows softly, no doubt on its way somewhere mysterious and exciting.  The sound of it invites us to join it and travel afar, but I'm curled up on the couch, you with your reading glasses in the armchair.

The room is a warm orangish glow and our low lamps aren't enough to make all the shadows disappear, so we simply coexist.

I glance up as I turn the page of my book and my eyes fall on you.  You're looking at me from over the rim of those sharp black glasses, your puzzle in your hand and your pen hanging limp from your fingers.


"Just thinking.  Imagining.  What do you want most out of a relationship?"

Sunday, December 25, 2011

O Holy Night

Listen to the midnight hush.  The stars shine high above, like millions of prisms scattering light abroad.

This is the night that Jesus has come to save His beloved.

For years we've waited, cried, craved, screamed and dreamed that He would come, please oh please just come, come and save us from the depravity that is ourselves, from the pain that we can naught but perpetuate.  We sin.  We err.  We can do nothing but.  We just want out.

And then, tonight, He comes.

He finally, finally comes.

Feel that for a moment.  You.  He has come for you.  He thinks you're worth coming for.

Feel that.  Do you feel the hope?  Even your weary, bone-aching tired soul is lightened within you because you finally know that you can be saved, saved from everything saved from yourself.

The sun finally rises on the dark night you have become so used to.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Soon It Will Be Christmas Day

Silver Bells
By Relient K

Silver bells . . . silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling~ hear them ring!
Soon it will be Christmas day

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air, there's a feeling of Christmas
Children laughing, People passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on ev'ry street corner you'll hear

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Here's To Many More

Parenthetically Bizarre is a year old today.


It's been a year of writing and not writing, posting and not posting, and way too many caps lock moments. NOT THAT THERE CAN BE TOO MANY CAPS LOCK MOMENTS. I MEAN SERIOUSLY.

Anyway.  A year ago today Parenthetically Bizarre was born because I was happy that day.  Yay nostalgia!

Got a party to go to tonight so we'll make this brief.  I've just GOT to post today.  I'm sure you understand.

So!  These are the stats for the whole year.  Not really sure why they go back to May of 2009, because I was finishing freshman year and hadn't even considered writing a thing back then, but whatever, Blogger.

Monday, December 19, 2011


Sometimes I just get surprised.   I'm very . . . excitable, to say the very least.  You can basically rest your hand on my shoulder and I'll scream reflexively.

Take last December, for example.  One Friday my friend invited me over, and I went, of course, without expecting anything. We worked on a sign for when we would go to the Relient K concert . . . and when I got home, there was a huge passel of girls in my living room screaming happy birthday at me.

Christmas presents usually don't surprise me.  Usually.

And then there are Christmas presents that surprise the pants off of me.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Most Wonderful

I'm feeling very Christmassy today.

Yesterday was the last co-op of 2011.

This Thursday I'll be making all kinds of Christmas goodies, cookies and treats with my brothers and grandmother (the majority of the cookies will probably be eaten by the two adults and three teenagers in my house before Christmas Eve).

This weekend I'm going to go ice skating with two dear friends of mine, and we're going to make sugar cookies and sing Christmas songs, I'm sure.

My first Christmas takes place on the 18th, when I'll be at my grandmother's house, eating Russian tea cakes and humming Silent Night.

I'm going caroling on the twentieth, to stand in the cold and sing songs about Jesus in the frosty air with some people I'm rather fond of.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Poor, Neglected (Boring) Blog . . .

Ah, poor Parenthetically Bizarre. I fear that you have become the boring blog, and that five.minute.anyday is the fun blog.
. . .
Well, I'm afraid there's not much I can do about that.  five.minute requires so much less planning (as is expected).  It's rather by-the-seat-of-my-pants, which is kind of how I like it when it comes to writing.  I don't like spurning Parenthetically, however.  I like them both rather a lot, and I miss you, Parenthetically.

Writing-wise, I've been working long and hard on something that *you'll* never read.  Just typing that makes me feel a little vicious, but I doubt you'd want to read it anyway.  You wouldn't get it and you would just be like, "this is dumb" and I would be hurt and go into a corner and cry because I am the only one in the whole world who would find even an inkling of enjoyment out of it.  It's just . . . one of those things.
Haven't picked up my NaNo novel again.  I keep telling myself it's because I'm just taking a break, and I'm writing above-said-other-thing, but I'm terrified I'm going to slide into a lack of care altogether for Blood is Thick and that when I come back to my November love it will turn out that I can't write anything at all.


Saturday, December 3, 2011

Christmas and July

Some things put me in better moods than others.
For example, colds.  Colds put me in bad moods.
And the SAT.  That put me in a kind of bad mood yesterday (it's over now).
But some things put me in really really good moods.  Like Christmas music.

I'm feeling a bit chatty and feel like elaborating on why I picked some of these songs, so you'll have to endure my little spiel here for a minute.  That or just scroll down.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

10 Things Christina is Not Good At

Hello there.  I am a failure of 2011 NaNoWriMo... and this is surprisingly all right with me.
I failed at getting my word quota every day.  You wanna see a chart?  I can show you one, courtesy of the NaNoWriMo website.
That's me, failing.  Woooooo~
But you know what else?  Failing is okay sometimes.  I'm content even though my bar is a shade of unrequited blue instead of jubilant, victorious purple.  This means that I can spend December writing, and January, and actually work on this thing.  Actually make this novel sound like a novel instead of a reeking pile of words that so often my NaNo novels are reduced to.
It's evolved like a colony of rabbits, you know.  A CRAZY amount of new plot twists have popped up from seemingly nowhere, and I'm only about a third of the way though 25,500 words in.  It's good I have more time because I'm going to have to really think to make sure I can sort this out without holes.