Nov 29, 2009

A New Nativity

A few years ago I started to realize that in almost every nativity scene, Mary and Joseph are just looking down on Jesus in his manger. Gazing adoringly at him from afar the same as everyone else. And it started to bug me. Why wasn’t Mary holding Jesus? It is nice that they are worshipping him and everything, but he was just born! Why isn't she holding him? What mother would lay her brand new baby down in the hay and then just stand around with all her visitors and farm animals just looking at him? Ok, it really doesn't sound THAT weird, especially if he was asleep. But if they were going to be getting their pictures taken then OF COURSE she would pick him up.

This seemed so glaringly obvious to me, that I began a quest to search for, and ultimately buy, any nativity set I saw where Jesus was being held. They were rare, but I always managed to find a couple. However, in the last couple of years they seem to be everywhere. It has gotten to the point where I can no longer buy every one I see. I think I saw about 9 at one store alone last year. So I’ve decided to just buy one a year. This make me happy. My collection is growing but my husband doesn’t have to take up a paper route just to fund my crèche obsession.

And I found this nativity a couple of weeks ago, instantly fell in love with it and bought it.

Isn't it pretty?

When my husband got home from work, I excitedly showed it to him (because, like any man, if there is one thing he is interested in it is Christmas Decorations) and said, “Look what I bought!” And he said “Last year?” I said, “What? No, I JUST bought this.” He said, “You bought that last year.” Baffled and exasperated I said “WHAT?” He said “That is the one you bought last year.” Understanding finally dawned and I said “No…. wait, really? No, it isn’t. Is it? No it’s not!” And then Richard explained to me how last year, at the same time, I had excitedly shown him this very figurine, and it was now wrapped up with the Christmas stuff in the attic.

Well he is never wrong. I got this one at the Hospital gift shop, and suddenly could almost remember buying the last one at the Hospital gift shop too. Gee, it almost sounds like my holidays are spent in selfless service visiting the sick and afflicted. I wish that were true. I actually don’t remember why I was there, though I am sure that I WAS there. Yeah, obviously I have some memory problems.

So the other day, just to solidify my fuzzy thoughts, I climbed up into the attic and pulled out the Christmas stuff. And lo, what did I find but no nativity like this one. Not even one that was very similar. There was a white one that was about the same size and I am guessing that was the one he was thinking of, but I can't believe he so totally convinced me! It's like he planted the memory of me buying it twice in my mind with his words. Darn him and his Jedi mind tricks! What else has he convinced me of?

Nov 20, 2009

More Unrelated Thoughts

When I was in middle school (6th or 7th grade) I decided I really liked the song "Rock Lobster" by The B52's. So one night while I was at the mall with my friends (which really didn't happen all that often. Those were different times. The only time I ever went to the mall was during a slumber party) I bought their tape. I'm pretty sure it was the first tape I ever bought. It wasn't till I got home and started listening to it that I realized I must have made a mistake. The songs didn't sound right at all!!

Turns out what I bought was UB40, not B52s. (which is Reggae, instead of the slightly wacky party band sound of the B52s.) A common mistake, surely. One anyone could have made. You would think I would have at least checked to make sure I was getting the right B52's album, but maybe the possibility that they might have more than one album didn't even occur to me. So, what the hey? I kept it and listened to it all the time over the next few years. I've often wondered if I might have turned out differently if I had spent my formative years listening to the B52's instead of UB40. Someone should test this on their children, to see what happens.


You know those commercials for stuff that "isn't sold in any store", like paper cutters, can openers, mini hamburger cookers etc? They really want to stress that getting along without their product is nearly impossible, so to do that they show people having a hard time. And you always just see the hands. You'll see some hands trying clumsily to strain some spaghetti noodles, but they end up dumping the noodles all over the place. Or you'll see the hands trying desperately to cut out a picture but "cutting a strait line with scissors is almost impossible!"

These commercials have always made me laugh and laugh until today, when I realized that they are very sad. It is probably just one lady. She has been hired to do all these commercials, and she is trying her hardest, but nothing seems to be working out for her.

I made some hamburgers the other day, but when I tried to flip them over they just flew out of the pan. So I kinda know how she feels. Poor lady. Can't do anything right, and the whole world knows it.

On my Google Calendar, tomorrow is listed as towel day. Not like National Towel Day or anything like that. It is a calendar Item that I entered all by myself. What the what?


I had a dream last night that I started taking a gymnastics and deportment class (because everyone knows the two really go hand in hand) at a local community center. In the class we did things like going from laying on our backs to sitting up, gracefully. And from sitting to standing, gracefully. And all with a very large purse on our shoulder. Advanced stuff. Once we had mastered sitting and standing we worked on moving our purse from our right shoulder to our left, with a little flick and a flourish. I just know these skills are going to come in real handy some day.

Nov 18, 2009

I'm not writing this either.

So I have learned that I can either blog or clean my house and cook for my family, and I have chosen to cook and clean. (It isn't the right decision for everyone.) But I can't disappoint the masses! I mean, I would if I could, but I don't know how to reach them, so I will have to settle for disappointing you lot (er, I mean, you guys. Sorry, I've been watching a lot of Doctor Who). Just when you were thinking "Phew! No more to read from Elesa!" here I am again. I don't have anything new to write, but I have loads of old stuff that I started and never finished. So I will give you some of that. I gotta disappoint someone.

So here is something. I don't even know when I wrote this. I found it on my external hard drive. I don't think I ever posted this, did I?

I have been catching up on some old scrapbooking lately. Some really old pictures. Scrapbooking is always a time for reflection and a little nostalgia. But mostly wonder. Wonder at the way I used to be. Am I forever doomed to look back on myself in the past and shake my head? Must I always think “What was I wearing?” “Why did I act so dumb?” “I really left the house with my hair like that?” “Wow, thank goodness I am smarter now”.

I mean, it is nice and all, to know that I am much wiser with better style than I used to be. But still. I remember when I was in college, thinking how nice it was not to be in High school anymore. Boy, was I dumb in High School. Thank goodness I am so smart now. But NOW, I look back at myself in college and I think “Boy, was I dumb in College. Thank goodness I am so smart now.” Only now am I beginning to realize that the chances are that in 5 years I’ll look back on myself now and think “boy, was I dumb”.

I guess it is good that I am still growing and learning. And what a shame it would be if I reached the height of my wisdom at 30. But I am smart enough now to realize how dumb I really am, and probably will be for a very long time. Which is kind of a sad thought.

I am Elesa. I am dumb. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I Don't Write Anymore (and this is no exception)

The wider my readership gets (We just jumped to 6!) The more difficult it becomes to write stuff. I feel like too many of you will think my stuff is dumb. And you might. But that is the risk I run when I post things online for the world and my Ward to read.

Today, I don't much care. I've got this stuff that I've never published because I know it is dumb. But I am going to publish it now because it makes me laugh. And that is what really matters. That's right. Not any of you sorry suckers. But me! ME!

And I was just about to apologize for what comes next, because I KNOW I have done it to death, but I'm not gonna! Let's just agree that if you are bored, you won't read it and I can continue to write mind-numbingly stupid things in blissful ignorance. That is the dream you know. THE dream.

Back when I was doing all that translation stuff(and at this point it behooves me to once again mention Lance, who did it first), this is the first thing I wrote to translate, but decided that it was too long for my purposes. Lucky for me and my fancy I kept it, and here it is:

Lost in Translation The Story in English:

Here is a story. It is a good one too. You just hold on to your hat because this may be the best story you have ever read. I hope not though, really, because that would be a pretty sad commentary on the stories you have come into contact with in your life so far. Pretty sad!

So, once upon a time, there was this monkey's uncle. (Once monkeys become uncles they are no longer referred to as monkeys, but as uncles of monkeys. It is a high honor to reach this stage of life, and the term is one of deep respect.) So, this Monkey's Uncle, whose name was Milton (though he preferred to be called Sir Milton, the Monkey's Uncle, which everyone thought was a bit too pompous, even for him) was walking through a charming grove of trees admiring the wildlife, when he suddenly found himself falling into a hole.

"Great Gravity!" he exclaimed, with more dignity that you or I could manage under such circumstances, and landed in a heap. He untangled his remarkably long arms from his unremarkably short legs and looked around at the pit he now found himself in. It was not much to look at -- pits never are -- and cleared his throat. He remained dignified, despite his surroundings, until he discovered that, in falling, he had landed on and crushed beyond repair his Top Hat. It was his favorite one too.

With that, he plopped himself down and had a good long cry. And I say, Good For Him! If you can't bawl like a baby at the bottom of a ten foot hole in the ground, where can you?

English to Japanese to Chinese to German etc.

Here it is a history. This is a good idea. Because perhaps, this is the story where a certain thing which you read is best, it hangs on exactly in your hat. I hope no however, really, because these would be enough sad comments in the histories to get in touch with the past in your life. Enough sad!

Thus, did a time and a time, exist this uncle of the monkey. (As soon as the apes become divine they are not reported more as apes, but as uncles of apes. It is the high reputation in order to achieved this stage of life, and the term of from profound respect.) Thus, this uncle of the monkey, which name was Milton (even if it is telephoned Sir Milton, the Monkey the uncle, we all thought it was a bit too exaggerated, Monkey you liked.) walked even excessively via an enchanting orchard admiring the wild nature, when he was found suddenly in the hands of a hole.

"The Large One Seriousness!" He exclaimed, it could manage him in such a case, and landing with the accumulation many dignity, you shouted. The impressively large untangled the arms of his short foot and take a look into the pits. He was not a lot in order to it examines - it is not never - and cleaned his neck. He remained decent, despite his outskirts, until it discovered that, as for him with the falling, it had been landed, and had shattered beyond the repair, his flattery. This is his favorite one.

In this way he fell with a splash. With this, it had a good long-lasting cry. And I am good because of that, you say! If you cannot scream like a child to the fund of a hole of 10 legs in the ground, is possible somewhere, you yell?

Nov 2, 2009

Yard Work

Raking up the yard is hard work. . .

But totally worth it!