Charlie Brown Christmas Tree

I purchased my first Christmas tree ever yesterday. That I am 26 years old and by all accounts a Christmas fanatic, this fact surprises me.

The past few years Meredith and I had Charlie, the Potted Holiday Plant, which can be best described as a tree-like-Christmas decoration.
Charlie the Potted Holiday Plant --->

As you can see he is a tad unfortunate looking, but all the more endearing for said squirrelly-ness. Additionally Charlie was non-denominational, impressively resilient and environmentally friendly. Even if you are feeling generous enough to classify Charlie as a Christmas tree, alas we did not purchase Charlie ourselves, he was a gift from Georgia.

Prior to Charlie the Potted Christmas Plant, tree's magically appeared in (and disappeared from) the living room of my parents' house for my decorating enjoyment. (Thanks Mama!)

This year however, I decided to pull my big girl pants on, one leg at a time, and get a live Christmas tree all of my own. On the recommendation of several more experienced tree purchasers I tooled down to Pam's tree lot last night in search of the small, festive fir tree that now sits in my living room. It took me all of 2 minutes to pick out my slightly lopsided but very friendly looking Christmas tree - thus prompting Al (the tree salesman) to comment that it usually takes women FOREVER to pick out trees.

It is by such comments that my list of stereotypical differences between the sexes continues to grow. This particular one is ranked rather low on the list in terms of utility, I don't really know where in life I will throw down the "women take longer to pick out Christmas trees!" fun fact. I did however, recently read (location unknown) that after being shown a plate of their favorite food and having had it removed, men forget about it within about 20 minutes while women continue to think about it for up to 5 hours. According to the study, this explains why men find it 'easier' to diet then women.

While I often take issue with generalities and stereotypes, I am 100% in favor of any 'fact' that reinforces my claim that it's harder for me to adjust my eating habits than for Wes to adjust his. Clearly, I am up against a biological obstacle. Recent events have only furthered my conviction that this particular gender discrepancy is correct.

Following the No Carbohydrate Left Behind Tour that I took in November, I decided that my organs would greatly appreciate a month or so of extra healthy eating. So on Sunday I took myself to the grocery store and stocked up on all sorts of tasty looking fruits and vegetables. Monday was Day 1 of no bread, pasta, rice or any amazing starchy, carbohydrate-y goodness and supristingly it wasn't so bad. I had some tasty foods and went to bed feeling MUCH less loogey than I had in weeks. I thought that perhaps the not-so-terribleness was my body saying, "yes please!" I was SO wrong. I woke up this morning having dreamed, (yes you heard me right:DREAMED) of eating golden, crispy, salty delicious french fries.

One day, ONE day, ONE FREAKING DAY of healthy eating drove me to dream of fried food. My emotional attachment to french fries / my psychological opposition to dieting is apparently far more developed than I had previously thought.