Thursday, December 24, 2009

Memories...misty, water-colored memories

Favorite Christmas Memories:

-Going to my aunt and uncle's house to have gumbo and family Christmas on Christmas Eve every year. And my grandfather always gave all the grandkids $20...but that ended when you turned 18. Seriously...he was all "I survived the Great Depression and you've gotten your $20 for 18 years now...go get a job lazy-ass". Not really, but that's totally what I would think if I were him.

-Every year on Christmas Eve, my sister and I slept in the same bed so we could get up at the same time to see our stuff from Santa. And this tradition continued well into our late teens...possibly even when I was still in college. I know you're thinking it's all sweet and sisterly, but I really don't know what the hell she was thinking...I sleep like a fucking kung-fu ninja. Yeah. I probably beat the shit out of every Christmas Eve. Like on family vacays, we got a roll-away just for's gotten better, but my husband and I have a king-sized bed, so I probably just can't reach him to kick his ass at night.

-The year my cousin worked at a drugstore in town and had to work Christmas Eve, so we walked over to it to visit him with plates of food and his gifts singing Christmas carols all the way there. And it just now occurs to me that, had the cops driven by, many of the adults could have been cited for PI. (and if you don't know what "PI" means, I'm not sure why we're friends)

-The Christmas my uncle was Santa and got a little tipsy (okay, maybe more than a little)--Santa was very "huggy" that year when everyone sat on his lap. Then he convinced my older sister and I to sit on his lap...and got a little "huggy" with us. Bad Santa, bad!

-The Christmas after my parents got divorced, my mom and I went with our best friends (who also happen to be mother/daughter) snow skiing in Taos, New Mexico. No one had told us 1. How to buckle ski boots 2. That we would even need ski boots 3. That Taos is pretty much for black diamond skiers 4. That snow skiing is flippin' HARD! We drank alot of vodka martinis in the ski lodge. We also went to see some psychics that New Year's Eve and they told my friend's mom that one of her children was "sensitive" and then they told my friend that she was "sensitive" we are totally convinced that she's a psychic because it was two separate women who made the same prediction. (Yes, there was plenty of red wine involved.) But they also told me they saw lots of money in my future, and that hasn't happened so they probably weren't all that "on target".

-Last Christmas...and I don't really know why, because my husband had just gotten laid off and we were involved in some ex-wife drama. But in the midst of it all, we had each other and two beautiful, healthy children. I remember putting out the Santa stuff for the kids in the early morning light in our living room with the Christmas tree lit up and thinking "I should've gotten them each a couple more things". Then, I looked at the husband and he winked at me...he winked! And gave me his little shit-eating grin that I'm sure got him out of lots of trouble in school....and all was right with the world.

All sarcasm and cynicism aside (for now), enjoy the holidays, thank whoever you pray to for everything and everyone that you are blessed with, and collect happy memories....those are the true gifts and will outlast any THING you receive.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Christmas Shopping: Driving Normal People Insane Since Jesus' Birth

So I'm done with the Christmas shopping....finally.

I count myself lucky that I survived the shopping area of town without A. Killing the old man who totally cut me off in the parking lot, B. Shooting the bird at said old man or C. Strangling the chicks in Wal-Mart who parked two carts in the middle of the Barbie aisle and then proceeded to debate the merits of Mermaid Barbie vs. Malibu Barbie.

And yes, I went to Wal-Mart and goal of totally avoiding the mall was reached! You'd just have to be flippin insane to go to the mall 4 days before, "Heeere's Johnny!" insane.

But the list is complete....everyone has an appropriate and thoughtful gift. And I spent agonizing minutes convincing myself that the person is totally going to love it because it was, in fact, the perfect gift for him/her.

Okay, not really, but they have something to open, okay? So quit bitching.

And I'll have you know that I only re-gifted one thing this year...and it was for the family White Elephant thingy, so that really doesn't even count.

Now, it's time to wrap, which is totally my favorite part. I'm the one who always gives kids the gifts tied with the curly ribbon that requires a knife to cut off because it was obviously invented at NASA and can withstand stretching up to 400 yards. Bag of bows?? Not at this taco stand. And I tape the shit out of the boxes, too.

Unwrapping my gifts requires tools and shit.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

When I'm an Old Lady, I Shall Wear a Black Leather Motorcycle Jacket and Combat Boots

So last night I ventured out from my normal evening routine of alcohol, facebook, mindless TV and pajamas and went to bunco. If you don't know, "bunco" is a game involving dice. For some reason, it's only played by women...I don't know why, exactly, but guys just don't play it. Except maybe gay guys....but I've never heard of a gay guy's bunco group, so I was probably just being totally stereotypical. we were chatting and playing bunco and all was right with the world because our children and husbands were far, far away....and somehow we got on the subject of getting old.

I guess because we all are.

Which is kinda bullshit, but must happen, because the alternative is being, you know, dead.

So I made the point that I cannot wait to get old...seriously. I can't. And all the women there were like, "Oh no! I never want to get old! I'll just stay in my 30s forever! blah, blah, blah (they totally could have said something else, but I kinda quit listening).

The point is: I can't wait to be retired and old.

No, I'm not looking forward to wrinkles and aches and pains and all that crap...I'm looking forward to elastic waistbands, bingo, bars in the middle of the day and the kids moving out of the house! Not to mention, you're RETIRED! You don't have to work every day...we could totally make happy hour by 2:00, Luby's for dinner at 5:00 and home, passed out in bed by 7:30....PERFECTION! Or sometimes, we could change it up a bit and have lunch and drinks before bingo at 2:00, Luby's at 5:00 and in bed by 7:30. Either way--win/win in my book. Plus, (and this is really the best part) when you're old, you get to say whatever the hell is on your mind and people just let it go! Really! You can just lay it out there....and because your family was taught to respect their elders, even if they're a little crazy, they'll totally just let it ride.

Like when we're at Christmas dinner and the son brings his wife over, I'll be all (whispering, but really loud, like old people do sometimes so you can totally still hear what they're saying, but they don't think you can) "Ronnie, did you see what your son's wife is wearing at Christmas dinner?? She looks like Santa's little hooker! Who the fuck told her that was appropriate or attractive?!?"

And no one will say anything...

They'll all just keep on eating and pretend like crazy old mama didn't just say "hooker" or "fuck" at the dinner table. And all the little kids will be like, "Grandma, what's a hooker?" and I'll say, "A woman who has sex with strangers for money and basically lacks self-esteem, so makes up for it by giving really good head. But you don't want to be one, so work hard, save your money and go to college" and the kids will be all "Yes Grandma...can we go google hooker on your computer?" and I'll say "Sure kids, that's how we learned stuff in my day! Googling! But if you see a picture of your aunt, call me, because I'll want to check that shit out!"


I can't wait....

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday....a new thing. Let me know if it sucks....and I probably won't change it, but hey, you did your part by letting me know, right?

No words needed.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

'Tis the Season for Re-Gifting (and you know you do it, don't lie)

It's gift-giving season.

And I'm just totally not into it this year.

So everyone should just probably prepare themselves to get really crappy, generic gifts this year. pajamas, picture frames, coffee mugs and Chicken Soup for the Soul books. That's it. There's my list.

Man, those are some sucky gifts, huh??

I'm usually a really good, totally thoughtful and stuff. I've planned Christmas gifts 6 months in advance fact, I can't think of a single time when I've given a bad gift. (Mind you, I've received a few in my day.)

There are "bad" gifts....and then there are those gifts that just make you say, "WTF?". I just read this Redbook list of the Worst Teacher Gifts. Some of my favorites?? Fishnet stockings and a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret (not necessarily in the same gift...although that just makes it weirder).

Yes, really.

Some kid's SINGLE FATHER bought the teacher a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret.

And then some other kid's parents bought the teacher a pair of fishnet stockings.

See? "WTF?"

I mean, what does that say about you as a teacher...really? "You're great with my kid and I'd bet you look great in lingerie"? Or "You have changed my child's life, now change into these fishnet stockings"? Or "I'd love to see your "gifts" in these"? Or maybe, "You're a total slut and I'd love to act out my good-teacher/naughty-student fantasy with you"?

Think he put his phone number in there with them?? Freakshow.

I'd be pissed, that's all I know. Where are my baked goods, you sick bastard??

And I bet the teachers re-gifted them....I totally would have.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Gives new meaning to "Don't use the good towels, they're for the guests"

I'm giving you fair post today is totally going to be "over-sharing". Really.

So if you're like easily offended or would rather not think about people you know having sex, then stop reading.



Okay, so now for all you sickos out there who kept on reading (and really, you're the fun ones...just don't tell all the people who aren't reading anymore! heeheehee), let me tell you a little about how my day started.

It began as most Fridays do...with a little "Friday fun time" for me and the husband (even though he was totally an asshole over the Christmas tree thing--hey, what can I say, my defenses are down before coffee). Anyway, so that's all well and good...even though I hate morning sex. I know, I know....most people love it. Me? Not so much--I spend most of the time thinking about how I need to brush my teeth and wondering if I have morning breath.

But I digress....

Okay, so everything's done and I head to the bathroom to get showered and ready for the day. My husband walks in behind me to...*ahem* to say this fairly delicately?? about this: "clean the man parts". Which he proceeds to do using disposable tissue. No problem, right? Ooooh...just wait. So after he uses the disposable stuff, he apparently decides that the man parts just aren't clean enough and proceeds to USE THE WASHCLOTH ON THE EDGE OF THE TUB!

Yes, he totally did.

He totally wiped his man funk on the washcloth I use to clean my body with!!!! Not to mention--MY FACE!!!

What. The. Fuck. Dude.

I was all, "What the hell are you doing? Did you just wipe man funk on the washcloth I was going to use to SHOWER with??" and he was all "Oh, yeah....I guess I did" and I was like, "GUESS?!?! You GUESS?!?! I just totally watched you do it asshole!!!" and he was like, "Okay, jeez...chill out, I'll get you another one"

"Chill out?? Really?? That's your advice here?? Chill out. Okay, sure no problem...and when I have jizz on my face at work, with children and their parents, I'll just tell them to CHILL OUT!"

Oh. My. God.

I wonder what else he's used to "clean up"?


I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Why can't "pre-lit" trees come "pre-decorated", too?


We (and I use the term "we" very loosely, because it was pretty much "me") finally got the damn Christmas tree up last night. Seriously, I had to plan my whole day around getting home in time to put up the stupid thing.

I know, I know, sounds very "bah-humbug", huh? But I swear, I'm not. I usually LOVE putting up my Christmas stuff. This year, it's just wet and cold and I haven't had a weekend at home to spend all day cleaning and getting it all out. That's just how me and Christmas decorating like to roll.

But whatevs--it's DONE!

AND my logic prevailed and we put up the fake, pre-lit tree instead of paying a shit-ton of money to buy a real one that would be dead and shedding pine needles all over my living room by Christmas.

But the fake tree does come with its own set of issues. Putting that thing up often requires an advanced engineering degree from MIT. Really. I mean, it comes in like 87 pieces that used to be labeled to tell you how to put it together, but given the fact that in the off-season the tree lives in the outdoor shed, the labels have disintegrated. Plus you have to plug each section's lights into one another and ultimately end up with a plug left for the wall outlet--which is like the electronic version of chemistry, which I learned from a teacher who drank vodka out of a coke can--so, not my strongest subject in school, right?

So what did I do?

I winged it, of course....and with a minimal amount of cussing.

And you know what? The thing stood up straight, fit together right, and all the lights came on when I plugged it in!! YES! Score one for the girls' team!

Well, all the lights except those in the star. But I figured, what the hell? We can just have an un-lit star this year.

So when the husband came home, I was all "Check it out dude! Didn't I do a great job?!" and he was all "Yeah, babe looks great! Well....except for the star." and then I was all "It's doesn't have to be lit." and he was all "Um, yeah it does. Or it looks stupid".


And he then proceeds to "fix" the plugging in of the lights on the tree--which included the use of a FLASHLIGHT, PLIERS and BLUEPRINTS. (Okay, not really, but still....). And apparently required him to TOTALLY UNDO EVERYTHING I HAD ALREADY DONE!

And the damn star lit up.

I hate him.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Laissez les Bon Temps Roulez! Let the Good Times Roll!

The best invention EVER?!?!

The drive-thru daiquiri factory.

Except we don't have them here in Texas....communists.

But I went to one multiple times...I mean, once...this weekend. Yep, you guessed it, I ventured out from the dry-county, no-smoking-in-public-places, "I-pulled-you over-because-three-people-in-a-car-is-suspicious" world that is central Texas and headed to Louisiana. My roots, my motherland....

And I totally realized that my entire extended family is crazy, not just us. Seriously....CRAZY! Like the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, but with dudes and more alcohol.

For some reason, Texas "crazy" just ain't the same as deep South "crazy"'s like a phenomenon that should be studied by like National Geographic or some shit. And I don't mean certifiably "crazy" like "I-hear-voices-and-they're-telling-me-that-I'm-Elvis-Presley-reincarnated-and-I-need-to-make-a-sequin-suit-out-of-your-skin" crazy (ewww--I just totally grossed myself out with that). I mean, just kind of your general run-of-the-mill, fun crazy people.

Like in my family, we have at least 50 people at every function. Really. Like, your dog just peed outside for the first time in his 12-week long life?? 50 people show up with beer to celebrate.

And that's another thing...there's always alcohol. It's totally cool to have a baby shower (with the required 50 people) and serve Bloody Marys and Mimosas--even though the "guest of honor" can't drink. "Sucks to be her" is the general consensus.

And then there's the fact that, even if you are as far north as you can get in Louisiana without being in Arkansas and you're in a bar, there's a damn good chance somebody's handing out Mardi Gras beads. And usually, you don't even have to show your tits.....usually. There's generally not even a clear reason as to why this person is handing out beads. But you take them....and wear them....and try to convince everyone the rest of the night that you did not show your tits to get them....and they don't believe you.

And everywhere you go, even a small-town Christmas festival with your family, there's music and dancing. Seriously. In Louisiana, you don't even need a band--turn up the car radio and stop in the middle of the road. Hey, I've seen it happen. And EVERYONE dances...I honestly witnessed a 7th grade girl dancing with her mom to the Cupid Shuffle this weekend. And she wasn't even embarrassed (the girl, not her mom....her mom is my cousin and a total hottie, so she needs to out there shakin' her thang!) (Yes, I really just said "thang.). But yeah, the kid was totally dancing with her mom and not wanting to crawl under the table to hide from embarrassment.


Louisiana....such fun, such debauchery, such a killer hangover on Monday.....

Thursday, December 3, 2009

In Vegas, the night of Thanksgiving it like magically turns into Christmas overnight. My house? Not so much.

I know, I's been a while. But if you follow me on Facebook (and again, who of you doesn't??), you'll know that I have been unable to type due to being extremely FULL. Seriously, I couldn't even make my fat little fingers type on the keyboard....dude....that is full.

So to catch you up:

1. Thanksgiving rocked--and my sister and I totally made my mom's dressing by ourselves. When she dies, we got dressing covered.

2. We hunted.....ALOT. And I shot a big ol' wild hog. And if you're Southern, you know that things aren't truly BIG unless the word "ol'" follows them.

3. We drank.....MORE. I don't think my liver or my stomach could have handled anymore Thanksgiving.

4. We have NO freakin' Christmas decorations up....I know...."slacker city" at our house, right?? After all of our Thanksgiving "togetherness", I wasn't sure that my husband and I were up to subjecting our marriage to the stress that is 'holiday decorating'.

Sidebar: I'm drinking wine while writing this post (duh...) and the kid just came up, noticed my glass was empty and goes, "Can I pour you some more wine, Mommy?". Um yeah, she's obviously a GENIUS! I am the best mother ever. Seriously....People magazine will be calling to interview me any day now. Me, Kate Gosselin and the Octo-Mom--this year's Mother's Day issue...hitting a newstand near you in May!

Okay, now what was I talking about??

Oh, right, marital discord and holiday's a fond memory of my childhood. My dad would buy an 87 foot tree for our living room that had 14 foot ceilings and then my mom would bitch because it was scraping the ceiling and we had to have 400 yards of lights to go around it and she couldn't reach around to grab them and then after stringing them it wasn't in the stand straight and it needed water and then my dad's devil cat would try to climb in it and everyone would yell at him and then....after 2-3 hours of griping, the kids finally got to help put on the decorations.

And all the while? Alvin and the Chipmunks were singing their Christmas album because it was TOTALLY my favorite! Awww yeah!!! "Christmas, Christmas time is here. Time for fun, and time for cheer" Go Alvin, it's Christmas, Go Simon, it's Christmas, Go Theodore, it's Christmas!!! Jump, jump...

*ahem* the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas album.

Anyway, there's always all the decisions to make...the tree: real vs. fake, are we putting lights outside and if so, what are they going to look like?, how much of this other crap do we really want to put out since we're going to other people's houses for the holidays?....etc, etc, etc.

Meh....doesn't sound festive to me....soooo I have come up with a solution!

Christmas Decorations Challenge: make the coolest decorations you can with lights, light-up yard deer, empty beer cans, empty wine bottles and empty shotgun/rifle shells.

Now THAT sounds festive!

Watch out People magazine, HGTV may want dibs!