The Horror of January 1st

In a quiet and peaceful little house on a quiet and peaceful little street in a quiet and peaceful little neighborhood being occupied by not-so-quiet and not-so-peaceful not-so-little protesters, Sally woke up.  As Sally arose, she noticed the bright sun gushing in through her window’s half-open blinds.  In short, aside from the chants and riots outside, it was a quiet and peaceful little picturesque scene.  [Cue Violin.]

Sally tilted her head. [Narration] That’s odd, she thought, I don’t remember hiring a violin player to play eerie music. It must be one of the protesters outside having a recital, or something. [Cue animated clouds.]

That’s odd, Sally thought. The last time the bright morning turned to a dark and stormy night was when…that’s never happened before. It must be one of the protesters outside playing with even more chemicals. [Cue knocking.]

That’s odd, Sally thought. I thought my parents had gone to run errands and that I was home alone. It must be one of the protesters asking for a tuner for their violin.  [Cue ax.]

That’s odd, Sally thought. That’s not a very nice way to ask for a tuner, chopping down the door with a bloody, rusty ax.

So, Sally, doing what any sane actor starring in a horror film would do, opened the door.  Amid much screaming, blood, violence, screaming, violence, blood, violent screaming, someone screaming “Bloody-!,” bloody violence, and violently screaming blood cells [etc., cut out to preserve the PG ration of this blog and because I just ate dinner] the camera zooms out (all the way through the window) to reveal that the sun is once again shining and the scene is quiet and peaceful outside the house.  The violin music has stopped.

When the police arrive later, they notice that on the wall, written in blood, of course (because no good horror-film villain ever bothers with pens), is “January 1st was here.”

For those of you who are still here, and have not just left me to run around the house turning on all the lights, locking all the doors and windows, and grabbing a baseball bat from the garage, let me tell you-wait, is that a noise behind you? No, sorry, that was a mean thing to do (and we all know that that always stops us teens from pulling pranks…). I was going to tell you: this horror story (which I’m hesitantly referring to from now on as “Violence, Blood, Screams, etc. on Jan 1″ in case anyone from Hollywood wants to buy the rights) is actually a very accurate rendition for what you should be experiencing today.

If you’re an adult, then you’re thinking, “Wait, what? It’s the first day of the New Year.  It’s a weekend. What’s the issue with that?” Ohhh-hohhh.  Typical out-of-touch adult, I see, used to the year-round pattern of work and weekends as opposed to a nine-month period of extreme amounts of work.

The issue, as I’m sure you know, is that school starts in two days.  TWO DAYS.  That means a few things.

First, any homework that you had over winter break has to get done at some point, probably late tomorrow night.  It’s time to throw procrastination mode into overdrive.

Secondly, that means tomorrow morning is the last day you will be allowed to sleep past sunrise.  It’s time to go back to spending less time sleeping than you spend wondering if there will be a rapture tomorrow. (Which is why I’d recommend becoming a teen radio preacher as a part-time job, as you might get a bit of sleep).

Thirdly, there’s no end in sight. Your next major break from school is going to be in the spring, which is three or four months away.  The only reason you survived all the way to Winter Break is because of artificial substances like gum, caffeine, and sugar.  And to afford enough of that for the next three months, you might have to sell one of your holiday gifts (I hear people like to buy My Little Pony: Genetic Experiment Kits on Craigslist).  We all know that if you just ask for the best possible present, sugary caffeinated gum, most relatives interpret that as a plea for clothes.

But even during days like January 1st, when everything looks bleak, it’s important to stay positive: you don’t really have to start your enormous 40%-of-final-grade semester project on the history of the automatic toilet as it pertains to cultural diversity until tomorrow.  And if you decide to do an interpretive dance for your project, you probably don’t even have to start it until the wee hours of the morning of January 3rd.

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Comments

  1. vilite246 says:

    You know, as I write this, my brother is locking me in my room with a screwdriver. Yup, he just finished. He’s cackling (cue the lightning and horror music), he’s shouting that I can’t finish my homework, because I left my homework in the kitchen, (cue the creepy cackling and blood seeping through the door, wait, what?), and he’s saying that I’ll never escape (cue the dun-dun-dun-dun, the horrified gasps from the audience, and the random appearance of a bloody ax to cut down my door with). Too bad I have a window (that’s unlocked and open) and a rope to climb out with (don’t ask. It has something to do with Santa, no presents, and revenge. Yeah, don’t think about that.) in my room. My brother needs to think through these things. Mmhmm.
    Anyway, I haven’t done any of my homework yet and school starts tomorrow. So, procrastination overdrive it is. But, I have February vacation. One whole week. So, all I really need to worry about is 2011 pop culture (a.k.a. Justin Bieber and Rebecca Black) making a comeback in the next month or so. And I have to worry about Kesha. (I refuse to give up to that {Insert Bad Word Here}, and spell her name with that ridiculous dollar sign like she orders us too.) And yes, Kesha wasn’t 2011 pop culture. She just freaked everyone out. And I have to worry about Lady Gaga. She was wearing some mask from the 1940’s (Marilyn Monroe?) and a silver bodysuit (Invisible Girl?) at the New York Ball Drop.
    In the end, I have it better off than you guys, because I have February vacation. But then, I have to worry about visiting family. So it evens out. And yes, today was terrible. Excuse me as I prepare to climb out the window. (I’m not even kidding. If I post tomorrow, that means I survived. Did I mention I’m on the second floor?)

    • I’ve never heard of a February vacation; you must be pretty lucky. If you’re really lucky, your annoying/embarrassing/pop-culture-loving family members won’t have heard of it either, and won’t come to visit. Good luck with that window escape. If you survive, I can try to write your escape into the sequel I’m planning (probably going to be creatively titled “Violence, Blood, Screams, etc. on January 1st 2,” although the numbers might get confusing), although you won’t get a major part because you’d have survived by climbing out the window, and let’s face, nobody wants to watch a horror film scene unless somebody dies.
      – Phil

  2. vilite246 says:

    Haha. Well, I survived. The plant I landed on didn’t. Let’s just say I might not be alive for a long time. Why? I won’t give you the specifics, but it has something to do with my mother’s rose bush, my mother getting angry, and her finding footsteps in the dirt right outside of MY window. Yup. I’m gonna take a couple seconds to be thankful for my life. ______________. Okay, done. Anyway, I climbed out the window with my hostage rope and my feet landed on her rose bush. What’s really stupid is that my mother found out about the whole “my-brother-locking-me-in-my-bedroom-with-a-screwdriver” incident and made him unlock the room as soon as I WALKED INSIDE OF MY HOUSE. I wasted a perfectly good hostage rope that’s now covered in leaves. *grumble* My mom found out because she was looking for the screwdriver and “disappeared”, and she asks my brother who giggles hysterically. Sigh…
    And (thankfully), my parents plan to have NO ONE over for February vacation. (And we all know how well parents keep their promises.)

    • Glad to hear that you survived. If I ever decide to sell anything on this blog, I’ll make sure I thoroughly consider “window-escape” rope as a product option.

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