A Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,
Hello! I'm sure you've been FLOODED with fanmail, but I thought I'd add my letter to the fray, just in case you needed a little guidance on what to bring me. I know how hard it can be to get presents for people who don't even give you a HINT as to what they might want. So, I thought I'd be EXTRA helpful, like always :)

This year, I fear I have a pretty long list, so I know its not all likely to happen.

Here it goes.

- a mac. I know, I know. Pretty expensive, right? But I really need a computer that works so I won't want to DIE every time I make a playlist. And it won't take 2 weeks to update my ipod. AND I even promise I 'll be better about my writing! And I could get another computer, but I feel like I should just save up and get what works best for what I need. Wanna go in halfsies for it?

-The DVD of Sleeping Beauty- although I already asked my parents for it, so make sure you check with them first.

-New perfume. I don't really care what it is , but I've run out and I do like smelling pretty. I typically prefer scents that are unusual, and hopefully not too citrus-y.

-A job overseas. Not sure how much you can do for me on this one, but if you've got ANY connections, let me know and I'll send my resume.

-A new bra, preferably in a funky color.

-A boyfriend. Preferably Edward Cullen or Jack Sparrow. But even if that's not possible, an actual mortal would be just fine. Just someone to waste time with and enjoy one another's company.

Other qualities in this department are listed but not limited to:

• taller than me
• intelligent
• funny
• curly hair (not required)
• attracted to me (REQUIRED)
• man enough to gain my father's respect
• adventurous spirit
• must get along with my friends
• either share or indulge in my interests
• must not be TOO clingy, but still let me take care of him occasionally, while also returning the favor

so yeah. Santa, if you've been hording all of the ideal men up in your workshop at the North Pole, feel free to deliver them this year.

I've been good all year, for the most part, (and as you're always watching- you know the parts where I was slightly naughty, but I think we've already had that discussion.)

Please take care of all the elves, and tell Mrs. Clause I say hello!

Merry Christmas,

Maggie

P. S. As a note, this is meant to be in addition to all of the standard wishes for peace in the Middle East, a cure for cancer, and a pony.

mundane

So, it occurs to me as I read back over my meager blog entries, that I only blog when things are like LIFE ALTERING. So my blog is a bit more heavy-handed than I prefer.

So now, I shall endeavour to include life's funny little anecdotes as well as the universe-shifting ranting.

Mundane Entry #1:
Cubicle etiquette. Do coworkers appreciate hearing your juicy story from the past weekend? This occurs to me as a coworker tells me her THOROUGHLY juicy story from this past weekend. At one point, I actually got to say, "So are you going to get it tonight? THE JACKET I MEAN---- HI YOOOO!"

And then we were giggling at the DEAFENING throat clear from my septuagenarian cube neighbor. Usually, he laughs at my antics. And on even more unfortunate occasions, he contributes his own stories that would curl your hair. So does he find it funny? Is he offended? Or did he really just have a tickle in his throat?

thoughts?

Reality Check

So this is going to be a check-up on Maggie's grasp of reality.
Hmmm... open up and say "ahhhh."
Let me check your pulse and blood pressure.

Verrrrry interesting.

All vital signs are pointing to an imminent relapse of irrational desire. Symptoms last seen after the final Harry Potter book, and previous to that, the Return of the King, (if you don't know which series I'm talking about, you may as well stop reading now. It's only downhill from here.) What's the latest trigger? Vampires you say? How interesting.

That's right, I'm talking about Twilight. And I know, I know. We're just going to have to jump over all of the assumptions/eye rolling that just happened because I know. Words like "pathetic," "13 year old," and "pubescent," all just jumped to the foreground of your mind. And yes. I am all of those things. At least mentally/emotionally. Unfortunately, that's only the tip of the iceburg for all of the internal gazing I've been forced to do. I've gotta tell you, gentle reader, I'm Grade-A concerned. I mean, legit worried.

And I think I've been able to boil it down to my exact fear. Now brace yourselves, its going to be a bit of a doozy. Here I go.

I'm worried that I'm never going to feel anything as strongly or as passionately in real life as I am able to in my imagination.

There. It's out there. In the blogosphere.

So I think that I have kind of dealt with this in the past, and just kind of either gotten attached to a new piece of the Fantasy genre or eventually gone back to the monotony. Scratch that. I still watch/read/daydream about all of these things all the time.

The problem is, it isn't about the stories themselves. I loved the Twilight books, although they are definitely not the best written pieces of literature ever. And I would give the movie a B-. I mean, I thought Bella was great, better than I expected, and RobPat NAILED Edward, **swoon**, but they cut out too much dialogue. Whatever. Its not even about that.

For a while, I was wondering if I only loved these things because they were imaginary or impossible. I can't tell you the number of times I have thought and said "why is NOTHING that is cool REAL?!?!" If you've been around me at any length, I'm sure you've heard me utter these words. If not, I've definitely thought them around you. "Why can't at least one of them happen? Hogwarts? The Shire? The Black Pearl? Tattoine? Forks? Not even one? Not magic, nor hobbits, nor pirates, nor the force, nor vampires? NOT ONE?!?" Now that I look at it, I'm not sure these are required to fill the void their stories leave behind. Sure, any one of them would be amazing, but if something like that existed, would I even appreciate it? Maybe it does, but it doesn't seem as fantastic because it is possible.

Lord knows I am beginning to understand the people in costume at the RenFaire (**cough** **cough**,) although maybe not the stormtroopers just yet. And although I poke fun, I begin to realize I am in exactly the same boat they are in. And I suppose that there is a sort of comfort in the fact that other people feel as strongly and as wistfully as I do for stories that are not necessarily ours. The problem is, even if you are dressed in a funny outfit of another time and place, it almost seems like a mockery. It becomes more apparent that no matter how badly you want it, fantasy cannot become reality. The pirate hat is merely a tease. Going with just pretending is not going to be a full solution. at least not for me. Sure its fun, but it doesn't tackle the bigger issue.

No, I think the problem is easier to solve than that. The thing that links all of these imaginary universes together is the emotion the creatures in them feel. All of these stories are epic on some level. Some trial or struggle seems to be taking place. And the characters in them are responsible for way the story will end. To overcome the strife, the characters are tested. They must have bravery, fortitude, creativity, love, faith, strength, imagination. Any number of virtues each of us would want to discover in ourselves.

Maybe the issue is that I haven't been tested. What situation have I been in where I would get to see what kind of person I am? How brave would I be before a dragon? Would I be able to escape a prison to save someone I loved? Could I lead a group of people to their freedom despite all of the odds? Will I ever need to stand against fate for love?

There is one type of challenge that the Frodos and the Edward Cullens and the Jack Sparrows rarely face. The challenge of patience. Of facing monotony and apathy and mediocrity. The fact that some of these heroes are reluctant to go boggles the mind. They always seem to want the calm routine of home. I've seen that part- not so great. The question comes to mind, do they seek their challenges? Or do circumstances present themselves that give our heroes the opportunity to rise to the occasion?

So now, I suppose I must just resign myself to searching for my epic challenge. There must be tales yet to be told that will require the same level of emotion, right? If my choices are moping and daydreaming, or remaining hopeful, the choice seems simple. So now we arrive at the only productive result: resolve. I must use the epic strength of resolve to be patient and not only seek out whatever my own adventure is supposed to be, but also believe that I will find it.

And so, I check my map and compass, adjust my pack. I look around my group of companions with a wry smile and a light joke.

And we set out on the path that ends we know not where.

La Traviata

Last night, a lovely friend and I had the opportunity to exhibit our "culture vulture" sides. As Leah put it, "We are TOTALLY cultured."

And it was BEAUTIFUL. Just the atmosphere of the other opera-goers is enough to give anyone that tingling of anticipation. Although we brought the average age of the audience by a solid 20 years, it was spectacular.

From the first whispered strains, before the curtain even rose, I was hooked. The entire production was sheer opulence. All of the costumes were to DIE for, and all the scenery was lush in every aspect. One of Violetta's dresses nearly brought tears to my eyes- and not from being so emotional ,but because it was SO SPARKLY. SHINIEST DRESS EVER. Which in this girl's opinion, makes it the awesomest ever. And the physicality required of the actors/singers/operalias was so impressive. Having no microphones to speak of, and reaching every single ear in a packed house of hundreds just gave me goosebumps- let alone the soaring high "c's". Being able to not only sing like that, but to have to ACT it well enough so that hundreds of people who don't understand the words you're saying can emote along with you? It's just amazing. I guess there's a reason that its such a prestigious artform. Not a major shocker, but its still nice to be able to appreciate it.

And you have to love ANY artform that has an ending like this: Violetta, who has just been reunited with her life's love while on her deathbed, seems to get a burst of strength, leading us to believe that perhaps she can be healed and go on living and loving. She stands on her own, singing of her newfound strength, sings "OH JOY" (in Italian) at her happiness, hugs Alfredo, then dies in his arms (insert cartoony sound of deflating balloon in my mind.) Now I was already crying at this point, but I was waiting for the cathartic song after that where Alfredo perhaps mourns her. Maybe he would find new purpose and promise to love again, or perhaps grow bitter and carry on his days in agony without his love, but Opera, apparently, doesn't give you that. Just "Oh Joy!" **pfffffffffft.** I was left wondering "what is the message of this? Don't get tuberculosis? It was worth it to die for honor? God is an unjust jerk? Love is fleeting? She deserved it because she was previously a courtesan?"

The more I thought about it, the more my need to tie all of the strings up seemed a product of modern entertainment. For all of its over-the-top melodrama, and beyond realistic emotion, maybe Opera is closer to real-life than I previously gave it credit for. Sometimes, drama or tragedy just happens, without rhyme or reason; without catharsis. In the real world, like La Traviata, sometimes the Violettas truly just die. And I was sad to see her go, but you've got to admit, she went out with style.

Regeneration

We women are all these little compact universes. Each of us have a sense of infinity about us- ever expanding, (not just our asses.) We are always searching, growing, puzzling through. Nothing is ever truly complete or final. This isn't to say that we are necessarily pessimists or perfectionists (at least not all of us.) It means that there is always an optimism or opportunity. Maybe it is why or because we are the carriers of life. This belief in the eternal possibility of just that thing we do- regeneration.

Most men are finite creatures. That is not to say boring or lazy, necessarily, (although it must be noted that these are definite possibilities,) but just looking at a man, it seems truly possible to know everything there is to know about him. Men can really close up an issue and lock it up and truly never think about it again.

Woman, to man's chagrin, rarely, if ever, forgets.

And then- she's usually only pretending to forget.

The Dentist Test

CHOOSE ACTION.
This is going to be my new mantra. I saw "Wanted" last night, (and I TOTALLY thought Angelina was hot- never been a fan of hers before, but yeesh. Now I get it.) The last line stuck with me, as I think it was intended to. "What the fuck have you done lately?"

My honest answer? Nothing I've wanted to. I realize its a bit cliche and/or cheesy to be reinvigorated by an action movie, but hey- if the shoe fits.

So I'll let you in on a little secret- my job sucks. Yeah, I know everyone's job sucks, so I guess I'm part of everyone. But I'm to the point where I'm wishing I could muster the give-a-shit to actually do something about it.

I read in the most recent issue of GQ, (one of the best written magazines on the rack,) that if your job doesn't past "the dentist test" you should look for something new. If going to the dentist seems like a vacation from your job, its not good enough. And I have to tell you, my job fails the dentist test abysmally. Going to the gyno is like Christmas come early because I have an excuse to not be here for a few hours. The gyno. Girls, you know that this illustrates how bad it is.

And so, I'm now CHOOSING ACTION.
You can lead a horse to water, and all that. Nothing is just going to fall into your lap- you have to seek it. Go out there and make something happen.
And I fully intend to do so.
I'm going to write, apply for jobs, excercise, initiate new friendships, get comfortable with going to the bar on my own, etc ad nauseum.

Who knows?
Maybe something exciting will happen.

Dorky books

So I just finished reading the "Twilight" saga- well the three books that are out- and I wanted to geek out about it.

Two words:
SO HOT.

Whenever I was reading and would have random outbursts of "OMG I JUST WANNA HAVE VAMPIRE SEX!" my roomates just politely shook their heads and ignored me.
(Actually, on second thought- shouldn't they have been more weirded out? Have I really desensitized them THAT much? Hmmm.... must think on that later.)

But I'm TORN! I know that this debate is the same one that every pubescent, fantasy-reading, dorky girl like me is thinking- but EDWARD OR JACOB?!?! I have to say that I was appalled that it was even going to be a choice at the beginning of the book. I mean, COME ON?! Who doesn't want to jump Edward's bones? But Jacob, I'm forced to admit, had quite the healthy rally. Having babies and eventually dying with the awesome best-friend type? Or immortal eternity with the one who you're obviously supposed to be with.

Ain't that the eternal question?

Yikes.

So I'm stressing. And not working.

I do have to say that I'm almost thankful I didn't discover this gem of a series earlier, because I'm fairly certain I'd flip out if I had to wait even LONGER for the last book in the series.

And I miss Harry Potter. (Seemingly unrelated, but if you're reading this and are a fan of both, you understand how they are linked.)

Which brings me to another painful conclusion I draw again and again after I finish another fantasy book.

NOTHING THAT IS COOL IS EVER REAL.

Pirates? Hobbits? Dragons? Magic? Hogwarts? Vampires? Werewolves? Mermaids? Fairies?

None of it. Not even one thing is real. I mean, COME ON. Not one teensy weensy little element of fantasy can come true?

**sigh**

I suppose that's why they call the genre fantasy.

Part of your WORLD

So, when I was on my awesome trip to NYC, I dragged my friends to go see The Little Mermaid. We were tired as hell, got ripped off on the tickets, and it was DEFINITELY aimed at 8 year old little girls, but I have to tell you, I loved it.

A SPARKLING NEW MUSICAL?
If you know anything about me, (and I think you do,)
you KNOW I'm in.

But I think that I discovered something about my adult self, in the midst of all the FUCKING AWESOME shinies and shpanglies.

Flash back to Maggie, aged 5.
Her dad is a Submariner, (pronounced sub-mah-REEN-er, not sub-MARE-in-er, thank you very much,) and he is about to leave on deployment for 6 months. Before he goes, he takes Maggie on a date, (they let Mom come along too.) On this date, they go see The Little Mermaid at the theater. They watch it, and as the lights come up, Mom and Dad look down at Maggie and she is BAWLING. Mom goes, "Maggie, what's wrong?!?" She replies, "SHE LEFT HER DADDY!" and continues sobbing.

Flash to present.
Maggie still has the same sentiment. I still HATE the ending. I mean, I appreciate it for what it is, but it seems like a raw deal. Let's review. She could either- hang out with her dad, and all her sisters and her friends and be A MERMAID. OR she could go be with this other douchebag. I mean, sure he's handsome, but still- not a fair deal. ( I think that this may also be telling of my mixed sentiments towards the male race, but that's going to have to be discussion on a separate post. Can't live without them, can't live without them!)

On broadway, I still cried at the ending, as I suspected- but I cried earlier in the show too, at a point that surprised me.

I cried at "Part of your world". And not just becuase it was beautifully performed, although it definitely was- I still get goosebumps thinking about it. I think there was a bit of sadness behind it. I remember totally sympathizing with Ariel at that point when I was smaller. There was still a great big exciting world out there, and I just couldn't wait to be a part of it. It was going to be fabulous and shiny and an adventure.

And now, I'm allegedly part of that world.

I gotta tell ya, its not quite living up to my 5 year-old-self's expectations.

I guess I was feeling a bit of loss at not still having that sense of passionate wonder and hope and expectation for some great big unknown.

I do think that it has kind of motivated me, after the fact. There is still wonder our there. Sure, its a little harder to obtain- but its possible. And even if its not marrying prince Eric in the dress with the big puffy sleeves- its out there.

And maybe it'll be even more wonderful because now I appreciate how much it should mean to me. And having to work that much harder for it makes it that much more valuable.

so...
watch and you'll see
someday I'll be
part of your world.

I feel silly

Alright, so I just accidentally signed up for a blog.
or did I...

I'm thinking it was a sub-conscious choice.

So now I have somewhere to write so I can still look busy at work.
I don't have to tell anyone about it- but its out there.

So cool! I'll start.

So I just got back from the best trip EVER.
I went to NYC with my two best friends on the PLANET, Mo and Meggie, and our other "all-of-a-sudden-really-good friend", Dennis.
I could tell you about the events- which were awesome. Drinking, and walking, and taking thousands of pictures. Going to a Yankees game, playing in Central Park, eating good food, more drinking, seeing The Little Mermaid on Broadway, and all of the other AMAZING things we did- but that wouldn't be describing why it was the best trip ever.

It was the best time ever, because with these people, its truly about just being together. Its all the dumb little details that fill in the big events. Its the things that made us laugh our asses off, (making me spit out whatever I was drinking 3 times, which I never do.)

Its the little funny things we said, that are already forgotten, despite our attempts to live-action document all of the quotes. Its the feeling that you can truly do or say anything, and these people will still be there.

AND JUST HAVING FUN! God, I had forgotten how fun it can be to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Its weird. That's something that can only come from the right combo of people.

Its both heart-wrenching and perfectly ironic that I would have known how rare all of this was only after it wasn't in the foreground of my life. I used to get to see these people every single day- and I was probably better than most at realizing how freaking special and awesome it was.

I just didn't know how truly rare it would turn out to be.

I'm glad that not only do I have that in my life, however infrequently face-t0-face interaction may occur, but I'm also half-glad that it doesn't happen all the time.

It doesn't make my friendships with these amazing people any more special- that'd be impossible.
It just makes me realize it.