It’s a Bob Dylan Christmas!!

If Bob Dylan had a Christmas album, these are the songs I think he would feature:

1. Tangled Up Under the Mistletoe
2. Baby Jesus, Stop Crying
3. Sleigh, Lady, Sleigh
4. All the Tired Reindeer
5. Baby, Let Me Follow You Down to Bethlehem
6. Manger Blues
7. The Bells They are A-Chimin'
8. See that My Sleigh is Kept Clean
9. Ballad of a Jolly Man
10. Too Much of Nothing (In My Stocking)
11. Buckets of Rain To Water my Tannenbaum
12. Blizzard

and finally

13. Baby, I'm in the Mood for Yule (featuring Amy Grant)

Feel free to contribute your own Bob Dylan Christmas songs.

Premeditated

I recently read The Host by Stephenie Meyer, and it has caused me to realize things about my life. Namely that I think my dog is actually a human child implanted into the body of a Terrier. She does the funniest things, things that I see children doing.

For example, Daisy and I have our morning routine during the work week. It goes something like this:

My alarm goes of at 6:40 a.m.

I think about calling in.

I hit the snooze button.

My alarm goes off 4 more times (and I snooze-button the crap out of every one of them).

I finally decide to get out of bed at 7:30.

I think about calling in.

I get in the shower. While I shower I think about calling in.

I get out of the shower, get dressed, and apply makeup (while thinking about calling in).

Then I put mousse in my hair and blow-dry it upside down. (This is the part where Daisy goes and gets her tennis ball. While i'm upside down she tosses me her ball and I throw it for her to fetch.)

Well, one morning, things were going as they usually do. When it got to hair drying time, I looked around for Daisy, but she wasn't around. I assumed she was still in bed, as she sometimes is as a result of drinking too many cocktails the night before.

I didn't see her until I was doing last-minute touch ups on my face and hair, and even then I wasn't looking directly at her, I saw her come into the bathroom out of the corner of my eye. I saw that she was standing beside the toilet and then I heard what sounded like water being lapped... and I was immediately angry that she was drinking out of the toilet. So I yelled at her.

But she wasn't drinking out of the toilet. Instead, she was standing beside the toilet, concentrating very hard on the inside of the bowl. I glanced into the toilet and lo and behold, I spot one of her squeaky toys sinking to the bottom. This was the first time she'd ever done anything like that, though I'd seen her try to do it before. She would walk up to the toilet, toy in mouth, and try to drop it in, but I always grabbed it before she could actually drop it in there.

That day I discovered that my dog, my irritatingly brilliant little dog could act on premeditated thoughts.

Since the toilet incident, I have seen her try to achieve the same thrill several times with her tennis balls and stuffed animals, but she hasn't always been successful.

Oh Daisy... what would I do without you?