I Wanted A Hippotamus

Needless to say I didn't get one. Twenty-three years and running and no hippo. Something says next Christmas will be just as bleak.

However, my Christmas was not without it's perks. I got a set of pots and pans, and an immersion blender- both of which I asked for and I was thrilled with. You know you're getting old when your presents are pots. Mom gave me an amazing pair of boots that I'm torn between never wearing or wearing every day. How do I best reflect my love for amazing boots? Dad got me a Sonicare toothbrush. Which I didn't ask for, but found myself upset the day before Christmas when I realized I should have asked for one. My teeth are squeaky right now. It's a wonderful feeling.

Oh, and I got a dog. Well, I had a dog but technically mom got her for me for Christmas. Unbeknown to us, she's a middle-age dog with issues. We just can't do normal dogs no matter how much we try.

Got to see Amber last night and then I spent the entire day watching season 1 of Pushing Daisies. I highly recommend it. I like good writing.

Speaking of good writing I think I want/need to write something. I'm mulling it over. Fiction. Shortish. It seems children's books are the easy thing to do now-a-days, however I'm not one for anamorphic animals and silly science fiction romance, so I think I'll side-step that category. I've had this dream recently where I write something so amazing that I win a Nobel Prize (this is my dream, don't burst my bubble). However, I'm still me and I have no real job, I'm an about-to-be grad student. But once I attain the Nobel Prize, I'm stunted. It's not like I can ever do that again. It was like being Truman once his run as President was over. He was broke and couldn't really get a job that wouldn't disgrace being President.

Moral of the story- I might write something but I hope I don't win a Nobel Prize for it.

Sickness

Dr. Gregory House is amazing. That being said I shall tell you about my current affliction.

Recently my heart has been rather racey. This happens mostly at night and is accompanied by shortness of breath. I'm sure death is quickly upon me and I ask that you buy me the most lavish Christmas presents possible seeing as I won't be around next year to receive any.

Currently, my heart is beating around 100 beats a minute and my mind is cautiously looking around my apartment trying to figure out what Number 13 and Taub will find to report back to House.

This is a problem for a few reasons.
1. Every time I get sick I wonder "what would House do?" henceforth known as WWHD?. WWHD? keeps me preoccupied and slightly paranoid. Not to mention that every time I go to a normal doctor I distrust them and feel they aren't really trying. Goodness, House is so good he... well, he's done a lot. His clinicals could put any doctor to shame.
2. I feel the need to document everything I do just in case House needs it. (My tea molded today- well, it took about 3 days to mold, but still, I don't think tea should ever mold.)
3. I want to clean my apartment so that it's clean when they come over to look for mold and exotic animals. Obviously, I have some mold, but I only have 2 cats and a dog. Maybe it's something in the cat litter and then I would have to make someone else mess with the cat litter since it's slowly killing me.

P.S. Montel Williams is hawking an Obama/Kennedy half-dollar. This is not helping calm my stomach and lower my heart rate.

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All I Want For Christmas...

is not you. Quit singing that song and focus here (although, doesn't this all make you want to watch "Love Actually" for the upteenth million time?).

All I want for Christmas is for someone smarter than me to fake my identity and take the GRE for me this Saturday. I don't think I'm asking too much here. Naturally the "faking my identity" part is up to you seeing as you are presumably smarter than I am. And since this will all be a wonderful time for you to show off your mental prowess I'm going to assume you don't want a monetary compensation.

You're a good person you are.