For Shame!

Between the hectic chaos of application deadlines and the holidays, I've been remiss in posting. I'm going to try and be better about that and about working on my novels now that I've entered waiting room limbo. As deadlines pass, I'm struck with paranoia that I've somehow forgotten some vital part of my applications and none of them will be considered. But I've double and triple checked, so this is patently false (I hope!).

Super Short Sum-Up:

My team let me down in the Big 12 Championship, but coming within 1 point and 1 second of beating the 3rd ranked team when you're only ranked 21 is pretty damn good in my opinion. Plus, everyone who scoffed at me for wanting to see Colt McCoy face Ndamukong Suh had to eat their words. And Suh kept McCoy from winning the Heisman, which made me perversely happy, especially with the incredibly rude and smug behavior of the Texas fans after the game.

The pinnacle of the night was the elevator ride after the game. We piled in with all Husker fans and who should get on at the next floor but TOM OSBORNE. TOM OSBORNE and his wife stood RIGHT NEXT to me in the elevator. I wanted to pull out my phone and snap a picture, but he looked heartbroken and I didn't want to be that fan. So instead I stood perfectly still and silent, while inside I was jumping up and down, shrieking in glee and cartwheeling (because the only place I can cartwheel without killing myself is in my mind): "I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!
I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!I'mridinganelevatorwithTOMOSBORNE!"
If you don't know who Tom Osborne is (and shame on anyone who doesn't), he is the GOD of Nebraska football. He lead us to three National Championships in the 90s and retired two years before I went to college at UNL. And I rode in an elevator with him!

Christmas was spent in Lincoln. Snowed in. Visiting my grama in the hospital every day. Possibly my least favorite way of spending the holiday. Though better than the last time we had to as my grama was merely recovering from surgery, not battling against cancer like my grampa. The good news: I still remember how to drive in over a foot of snow. The bad news: hospital food instead of a homemade Christmas dinner.

I picked up a cold just in time for my ten-hour drive home, which turned into a 12 hour drive home thanks to a traffic slowdown that caused me to spend an hour crossing the Oklahoma/Kansas border, which put me in OK City during rush hour.

New Year's was great. A vast improvement on last year's Bridget Jones-esque celebration. Friends, food, fun and exploding bottles of champagne.

It was followed by cold recovery, shopping and Sherlock Holmes (FAB-U-LOUS--except for that evil cliffhanger ending!).

In the midst of which God decided that as the rains this fall didn't succeed in washing Dallas off the map and the snow at Christmas didn't bury us, that he would FREEZE us out of existence. Last weekend saw the coldest temperatures Dallas has experienced in twenty years. A good 25-30 degrees below normal. So I stayed inside all weekend because temperatures in the single digits are only acceptable in Nebraska or other northern parts. I didn't move south so that I could continue to freeze my ass off. Apparently I'll have to move to Tahiti to return warmth to my hands and other extremities.

And that brings us to the present day. And a weekend that promises going out with friends and marathons of Psych and How I Met Your Mother (as I just got the most recent seasons in the mail from Amazon this week).

I hope your holidays were warmer and merrier than mine. One thing I do know: It won't take much for 2010 to be a better year than 2009. I just wish it was April already.