It's like Tuesdays with Morrie without all the wisdom
Posts tagged holidays
Two More Days Until I Can Stop Hating Christmas Music
7
I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving for lots of reasons, but my number one happy reason is because, after it’s all over, then I can stop screaming obscenities at my car radio every time I inadvertently come across one of the stations that plays all Christmas music, all the time. It started on November 1st and I’m too lazy to re-set my pre-sets, so I keep stumbling upon effing Christmas music. Since the day after Halloween. It’s not right. And I will stab somebody. I know I should be thinking about effing Christmas. I know I have to buy people stuff. I know, I know, I know. I don’t need stupid songs to remind me. Kids Know Stuff is backfiring for me because, while I’m getting good gift ideas for my kids, my kids already have the stuff because they had to review it. I should’ve thought this through a little better. It works out well for you, though, because you could win a bunch of cool DVDs from my kids. You’re so selfish. I would try to win them, too, but my kids already have them. I can’t even re-wrap them for Christmas because that might be a touch meaner than usual.
This Thanksgiving, I’ll be running the Turkey Trot 5-miler for the 3rd year in a row. This year is different, though, because Mechelle won’t be here (boo!), and my husband is running it with me (yay!) Bryan is a natural sprinter; he does not “try to kill himself” by running more than a few miles at a time at super-sonic speed. The one time he tried to run with me, he had to shorten up his stride so much in order to stay slow that he got injured. I’m slow and short, with no competitive edge, enabling me to run long(ish) distances without ever having a heart attack. He’s fast, tall, competitive, and generally has ants in his pants, so it’s hard for him to pace himself. This should be interesting. The best part is, I don’t have to use my endorphins as energy for cooking Thanksgiving dinner because Kristen is doing that! Isn’t she sweet? That means I’ll be able to use that energy high for things like drinking. And pouring drinks. Should be fun. Also, Kristen‘s husband and son are running with Bryan and me. I hope they remember to wait for me when it’s over. And I hope Bryan doesn’t weep because he doesn’t come in first. The last time he ran races regularly, he usually came in first and colleges watched him and sent him letters promising money to him for the pleasure of enjoying his long, lean legs and his powerful stride. Or something like that.
That’s him winning. *sigh*
Weird Dreams
4July 3, 2008
I have a lot of weird dreams. I used to keep a dream journal in order to try to interpret them. The more I wrote them down, the more vivid they became. I’m a lucid dreamer, though, so I’m not sure interpretation works when you’re going around changing things in the dream.
Last night I had a dream I was at Kristen’s house for a little party before park day. I wasn’t exactly sure how to get to the park, so I had to use her computer to mapquest it. So I’m using the computer and this jack-ass dude, dressed all businessy and acting all superior (the type Joe and Kristen would never be friends with; I’m sure he wasn’t even invited) just walked up and grabbed the mouse out of my hand because he had some “business” to look up. I was pissed and oh-so-ballsy as I ripped the mouse out of his hand and went on a rant about his business isn’t any more important than my business, just like a good stay-at-home mom who is not at all insecure about her choice. And then Steve Carell showed up and I went off on him: “I know everybody loves you and thinks you’re great, but I know you’re a smarmy bastard and I’m gonna tell the world!” And then my lucid-dreaming self was like, “You idiot! That’s Steve Carell. You will not find any smarminess about him and if you do, you will not tell the world.” In my dream I said, “Wait, you’re not who I thought you were. You’re awesome. I thought you were somebody else.” I don’t know what any of that means. I blame the jack-ass dude on a conversation I had with Dawn yesterday about her and her husband’s choice to have him be the stay-at-home parent and how jack-asses are weird about that, just like jack-asses are weird about stay-at-home moms. Jack-asses suck.
Anyway, we have homeschool park day today, and my sister TracEy (not to be confused with Tracy, my sister-in-law) and my other niece are coming to visit for the holiday weekend (can I get a “woohoo”?). TracEy , if you’re reading this, I’m not cleaning the house for you. I washed the sheets on the guest bed, but I am not doing anything else. It’s Thursday. After that, it’s a holiday weekend. I can’t be expected to clean stuff during a Thursday/holiday weekend combo. I will share my beers with you, unless I feel you’re bogarting them, in which case I will point you toward the liquor store to go buy me us some more. Don’t worry, we found one in a nice part of town, so it’s not across the street from the plasma bank. Nobody will ask you for money at the nice liquor store. You have nothing to fear from the rich drunks except roofies and date rape, so just don’t accept any drinks from anybody and you’ll be fine.
We All Go a Little Mad Sometimes
13March 23, 2008
Happy Easter.
I have many friends. Rum is not one of them.
My mom is here for one more night, but my brother and sister-in-law and their 3 boys left earlier today after a couple of nights of proving that none of us are mature enough to be entrusted with housepets, let alone children. Bryan and I have so much fun with these people and we just lose our heads with the loveliness of it all and we can’t be trusted to just play cards and sip some wine like regular grown-ups. Here is a good rule to live by: When the wine is gone, you’ve had enough. Don’t go get your mom’s rum and decide that you think you can drink like a real drinker. You can’t. It will end badly. Sure, there will be lots of fun before it all goes badly (and during the part where it is going badly for you, your houseguests and husband might act like it’s the best part of the night. For they will still be laughing. And taking pictures of you going badly.)
Before it all started to go badly, though, I’m pretty sure that the 4 of us solved most, if not all, of the world’s problems. Pretty sure. We were so frickin’ smart last night! You don’t even know.
And the daylight hours were precious. The 6 kids (7 if you count my mom, which I do) played together well. We ate good food. We talked good talks. We drank good drinks. And as a bonus, we remembered to put the Easter baskets out. It was a happy Easter
To prepare for next year, I’m going Catholic and I’m giving up rum for Lent. I’m also going to start working on my dodge ball dodging because whenever my brother gets a ball in his hands, he insists on acting like he’s 13 and I’m 7 again. Yes, I took a soccer ball to the back of the head while we were at the park and then I had to listen to Mike cackle maniacally. Just a warning, old man, laughing that hard at your age is unattractive and unhealthy, so stop it.
Busy, Busy, Dreadfully Busy
13March 20, 2008
I don’t know if any of the godless heathens who read this blog are familiar with Veggie Tales or not, but they are animated vegetables that teach kids about values and whatnot. Christian-lite values. I met them back in 1995 when I was working in a Christian bookstore and you should’ve heard the people bitch about how they were too mainstream and not Christian enough. Their premiere video had a song in it called “God is Bigger than the Boogeyman,” which was deemed demonic by some of the customers. “I don’t want my kid listening to songs about demons!” *sigh* Those were fun times. I have lots of stories about how those customers chipped away at my soul and turned me into the cynic that I am today. Of course, those same customers would blame my current soul condition on the fact that I let Satan get hold of me by doing yoga. (That is most definitely *not* an exagerration. Those are real words spoken by a real customer.) Anyway, in the Veggie Tales show about the Good Samaritan, the veggies keep passing the guy that needs help and they’re all singing this song, “Busy, busy, dreadfully busy! You’ve no idea all I have to do. Busy, busy shockingly busy. Much, much too busy for you.” It has been years since I’ve heard that song in real life, but it is one of those stick-in-your-head-until-you-want-to-stab-yourself-in-the-eye songs. I still get it stuck in my head whenever I have a ton of crap to do, like today. We have dentist appointments, a hair cut, grocery shopping, house cleaning, and all manner of preparation for when my mom and my brother and his family come to stay with us this weekend for Easter. Our Easter celebration is all about food, booze and euchre. Who wouldn’t be excited about that? But before the fun, the busyness.
So this song is stuck in my head. I tried to find it on Youtube, but I could only find it with some moron lip-synching it. I don’t like to give morons any blog-time, but I’m linking to it anyway. Turn your monitor off and get infected by the melody, please. I don’t want to be alone in my suffering. And keep in mind that the vegetable who is singing it is Archibald Asparagus. He wears a monocle. You’re welcome.
Nuffin’
6November 20, 2007
I just want to say, just like Liberty, I’m very excited for Thanksgiving. We have friends coming to run the Turkey Trot, then we’ll be eating, drinking, and lazing around. What’s not to love? No gifts, no decorating, no pressure. Lots of busyness with the shopping and chopping and cooking and baking, but that’s not pressure. That’s just preparation for feasting. Feasting is my favorite.
I’m extra happy to run the sweet, sweet 5 miles of the Turkey Trot after my last pressure-filled race debacle. Running and I have a precarious relationship that was very much in danger of ending during the summer and early fall. It goes against all of my sports needs: I have no chance of winning, there’s no ball, there’s no one to run away from, there’s no goal to run toward (intrinsic goals don’t count for anything), there’s no opponent to mock (because I have no chance of winning). Also, the really, really good runners are thin and lithe, and I have a sturdy body type more suited for sports like softball and beer bonging. Anyway, running and I are hesitant with each other at best, so I’m glad to be experiencing some excitement about the Turkey Trot because I feared that the 1/2 marathon might have taken all of the fun out of it. It didn’t. Yay. Happy Thanksgiving!
