Xanax For Sale

I recently sat down with a good glass of wine to watch It's a Wonderful Life for the eight-millionth time. A box of tissues and many sighs from the dog later, I remembered why I love this movie. I admit it: I'm the glass half-empty kind of girl on occasion to onlookers, but there is a minute little optimist dying to burst out inside. The stoic defense mechanism is there, for sure. This year hasn't been the best out of 26. This "crummy little town" has gotten to me now and again. I've felt like George... perpetually getting the shaft, wondering when the world would realize that I have no more time, energy, money, or soul left to get the shit further kicked out of me. I have yet to have the ultimate Clarence moment (don't worry - there isn't a bridge for at least a mile or two around), but what would the world really be like without me? There wouldn't be another fabulous diva who dresses the dog up in feather boas. There wouldn't be another professor who maneuvers around the question by only slightly snickering when explaining that Dada isn't some form of infantile jargon. My students wouldn't have someone to call at 2 a.m. to tell me they hate their parents. There wouldn't be another kick-ass summer camp director who so swiftly lobs water balloons at unsuspecting students. My sister wouldn't have that lovely scar where I decked her at age 11. Most importantly, there wouldn't be another pisser like me to insert snarkisms every other comment. Luckily, I have an ounce of soul left in me and the ridiculous heart of a romantic, but I don't want a fairy tale. It's probably a good thing to get grounded and reflect every once in a while. I will continue to use this forum to spew forth the reflections of xmas past (and any other embarrassing misfit behavior) and I will bust my ass to make things work for the small glimmer of hope that things will make sense in the end. So here's a toast, Georgie, and auld lang syne! Now if only the boy would lasso the moon for me...