Happy Chrismakwanzakah y’all!
As of yesterday at 5:00 PM I am officially done with fall semester of my senior year. Which is really exciting until I consider that I have one more semester until I’m in the real world. Then I think about getting a job, paying back my student loans, paying on a mortgage, having kids, my hair going gray, what hobbies I’ll have to occupy my time in my old age . . . then I just get tired.
Anyway, now that finals are over, I suppose it’s time to change out of the tracksuit (which incidentally, has never been used for purposes of an athletic activity), hat, & glasses I’ve been wearing for the past week and return to things such as bathing regularly, and stop doing things like eating almost an entire pizza at 3 AM and obsessively making flash cards and reciting terms and dates in my sleep.
I feel like I’ve already forgotten most of what I learned this semester. Except I do remember reading in my “History of Crime in America” class that 60% of serial killers wet the bed regularly as adults. I found that statistic fascinating.
During the weekend that separated the last week of regular classes and final exams at Tech, I went home to take Christmas card pictures with my family. True to tradition, there was never a dull moment.
As I arrived home, my Mom was pulling out of the driveway. “Where are you going?” I yelled. She announced that she was going to pick up the neighbors so that they could take showers at our house. Their hot water heater busted.
I said a silent prayer thanking God that for once it was someone else’s family.
As I made my way on into the house, I saw that everyone was getting ready for Christmas card pictures. So naturally, it was complete chaos. I ducked one flying hair brush, stepped on 3 hair clips, and ingested a cloud of hairspray on my way to my room (aka the couch in the bonus room). This year, my Mom wanted all of us to wear a shirt from our school for pictures, and then we had also brought a change of clothes in case those didn’t turn out. Our first stop was Moss Wright park.
I give you, the Frank Family Christmas card rejects. Round 1:
Then we had an idea. There was this really scenic house down the road that we were pretty sure nobody lived in, so we changed clothes while driving in the car, and headed there to take a few more pictures. I suppose it was kinda sorta trespassing, especially since there were signs posted all over the yard, but hey- we’ve done worse things. And I knocked on the door first to make sure nobody was home. We were there for about 15 minutes and had taken a few good pictures when we spotted the homeowners. A very short conversation ensued, and then we left. Quickly.
It’s the oddest thing. People get so angry when a family of six sets up camp on their private property and takes pictures. I wanted to interject and tell the homeowner that if he knew my family, he wouldn’t think anything of it, but decided against it.
We then headed out to my grandparents’ farm across town. At this point I think we had basically given up:
A couple hours and 117 pictures later, we did somehow manage to end up with a few pictures we could use. It was a Christmas miracle! Knowing our track record with Christmas cards, many of you can be expecting yours in the mail sometime around Martin Luther King Day. Also, you can probably expect some sort of attempt at humor. Christmas cards in the past have said things such as:
“Merry Christmas! From ‘We Three Franks.’” (1997)
“Wishing you a ‘Tender Tennessee Christmas’ . . . From Connecticut!” (2000)
“We know this card is late, but who said Jesus was born on December 25th anyway?” (1996)
I’m actually not kidding.
Anyway, even though I’m out of class for the semester, I’m staying in Cookeville until the 22nd to work at the pharmacy, and then coming back to ring in 2012 by working there on New Years Day, which depresses me just a little. I suspect we’ll sell lots of phentermine, Nicorette patches, and Viagra to account for all those New Year’s resolutions people made.
But for now, it’s back to the How I Met Your Mother marathon I’m watching. Ah, being done with school for a month sure is nice! 
Until next time, I hope you and yours have a Merry Christmas!
-Jonathan
