As we enter the holiday season...

Please remember that the best songs, movies, books, and stories are never ABOUT Christmas, they just include it. Merry Christmas mood. Please excuse the fact that my Bareilles obsession extends past my respect for Joni Mitchell's original. eee.

I just love this girl.

It takes actual talent to make a song about a stalker something worth listening to. She could sing Hakuna Matata and make it sound like Bob Dylan wrote it.

Life as a Married Organ Donor

Salutations!

It's been quite a while since I graced this blog with my uninhibited thoughts and powerful rhetoric. Since the last time I posted anything (which was slightly awkward I should admit), I've gotten married, started a new hobby, and cut off all my hair.

See:

No hair. And yes, I donated it. Who doesn't donate their hair when they cut off something like 20 inches? Jerks. That's who.

Speaking of jerks, yesterday I paid a visit to DMV to get a brand new license sporting my brand new name that no one knows how to pronounce. While there, a man angrily approached the desk (not waiting for his number, mind you!) to demand to the clerk helping me (oh no he didn't!) "Does this little heart mean I'm an organ donor!!? I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT TO BE AN ORGAN DONOR!"

Now this, in itself, was hilarious. I stood there stunned, hoping and praying for the opportune moment to tell him he will not need his liver if he is in 12 pieces and dead. This moment never came. Instead, SOMETHING BETTER HAPPENED.

The woman helping me excused herself and stepped toward the man. "Sir, I thought you requested to be a donor. I am sorry I misunderstood. Unfortunately, in order to remove your name from the National Organ Donor list, you must write a letter to the appropriate office."

I thought he was going to pull out a knife.

Instead, he began berating this poor DMV clerk for not doing her job properly, demanded a supervisor, and upon the supervisor's arrival, told her he DID NOT HAVE TIME TO WRITE A LETTER. That she should write and send said letter since this mistake was made by incompetence within her workplace. I almost volunteered to write his letter. I assume he ended up getting the matter resolved, but not without first asking pertinent questions like, "So if I'm in an accident, they'll let me die and then rip out my kidneys on the side of the road??!!!!" And I thought I hated DMV.

I have also taken up a new hobby since you last glimpsed into my blog life. I am well on my way to keeping bees. Yes, bees. Yes, in my backyard. And yes, I bet you think this is stupid/crazy/dangerous/useless/not something you would probably do. However, growing up in Virginia, my grandparents kept bees. And my grandparents kept me most days, too. So I was able to see how it's done, what it really means, and how rewarding a hobby it can be. I've read 9 books. I've joined the local beekeeping association, and attended my first meeting! I met a few local beekeepers who could potentially become excellent mentors. Workshops begin in February, where I will order supplies and bees, assemble my very first hive, and begin the process of creating a colony of productive little ladies. I'm ecstatic to finally have the space to keep bees. Brandon is not so ecstatic, however, for the daunting task of cutting grass around them. I told him I'd lend him my bee suit.

For anyone who really cares to read my ramblings, I'm sorry I haven't shared them with you. For anyone else, suck it. Happy Holidays.