Remember Me? ohmigod.... NOOOOOOOO!

A commercial just popped on. An annoying voice piped,"Remember me? I'm Tana." (no, I don't remember you. Put my show back on) "I'm back to bring you the Bedazzler again." (Ohhhhh, noooooooooooo!)

First of all, when does schlepping crap on "As seen on TV" make you a national TV personality/celebrity (this is how Tana is billed).

Secondly, the only person I ever knew who bought a Bedazzler in the 80s was my grandmother. She was divorced after 38 years of marriage to my grandfather (that's a whole 'nother blog, folks), and looking for love. She bedazzled jeans, jackets, t-shirts... all of them to wear with her fancy zebra stripe pants (Yes, I said zebra stripes). I could have sworn that she was the only person who bought that piece of crap from TV.

Apparently, Tana made enough money in the 80s to think that she could resurrect this... this... CONTRAPTION and sell it again. For the love of God, people, PLEASE don't bedazzle your clothes. We have enough bright shiny people on the planet. We don't need you out there all sparkly and shimmery and reflecting light in our eyes... blinding us... making us trip over end tables and whatnot. Please do humanity a favor and boycott the Bedazzler.

Thank you.

Mr. Hanky came to my house... fa la la la la, la la la la

Here they are... the best shortbread cookies in the world. They also closely resemble Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo.

You be the judge...

(they really DID taste good, though)

Merry Christmas Memories

Once, when my siblings and I were little, the minister in the church told us it was time to sing Joy to the World. At the time, my dad was in a rock band, and they did the Three Dog Night song of the same name. So, my sister, excited that she knows the words to Joy to the World, starts rockin' out in the aisle, at the top of her lungs... "Jeremiah was a bullfrog! Was a good friend of mine."

My embarrassed parents tried to hush her, but the congregation was already laughing. This was the old time Missouri Synod Lutheran Church-- the one where you wouldn't even dream of clapping in church, let alone singing some rock song and dancing in the aisles. The minister said something about maybe doing the Christmas Joy to the World instead. The organist took over, and my sister fumed... she liked the other one much better.

We sang Joy to the World tonight in the candlelight service. I tapped my sister, who is 35 now, on the shoulder to make sure she knew which version we were singing. She called me a smartass... in church, no less! ;-)

Merry Christmas...

Merry Christmas!

It's almost time for Santa! Yipppeeee!

Merry Christmas! If you don't celebrate Christmas, then happy whatever to you! Hanukkah doesn't start until Monday, so I can start wishing that then. I won't be offended if anyone tells me Happy Holidays, because it is a time to be happy, right? People need to just chill.... I can't believe all the hoopla over what people say anymore. Sheesh.

So, tonight was cookie baking night at the parents' house. I made Chocolate Dipped Hazelnut Shortbread. They looked good, but we had extra chocolate left over after dipping them. SO... I just thought I'd drizzle the entire cookies (instead of just dipping the tips) with the chocolate. BUT, it's a thick chocolate, not the drizzling kind. They didn't look very good, so I took a knife and made swirly designs in the chocolate. That looked better. Yay... I felt pretty good. Then someone walked into the kitchen and asked me why I made Mr. Hanky (the Christmas Poo) cookies. Shit. *depression sets in* (I'll post pictures of them soon)

Tomorrow... presents with extended family, 11pm Candlelight Christmas Eve service-- singing for that one... and then sitting around waiting for Santa!

Merry Christmas!

Funerals and Holidays

Why is it that there are so many funerals around this time of year? One church in our community has three THIS WEEK.

For almost 30 years, a young man I knew struggled with Muscular Dystrophy. His mom and my mom have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Remarkably, he lived longer than the average child with MD. He had Duchenne's disease, which prevents the production of a normal protein in muscles. Most children who are diagnosed with this form of MD die in their early twenties.

He died last Friday. Yesterday would have been his 31st birthday. For him, I know that this was a blessing. He was getting sicker and sicker, and breathing was even too much of a task for him. I know it was his time, and for him... he's at peace. In fact, I'm sure he's doing the things that he hasn't done since he was about 4 or 5. He's running, he's playing soccer, he's dancing.

I got to go to MDA camp with him about the time he started having trouble walking. He was just the cutest kid... white blond hair, dimples, and the sweetest face. He was such a funny kid... his one-liners were always delivered quietly, but with such wit. That was something he never lost, even in adulthood.

This was a child who became an adult trapped inside his own body. He lived with his parents. His only social life was his family. His parents' lives revolved around him. They did have respite care sometimes... but they have adapted their whole lives to taking care of him.

Now he's gone. How do his parents carry on? They, too, are relieved that his suffering and pain are gone. What will they do in the middle of the night when they wake up listening for his monitors, and then remember? What will they do when they're out running errands... racing to get everything done in an hour -- because they can't leave him home alone for too long-- and then remember that they no longer need to rush? How do they pull into the driveway of a home that has been remodeled for wheelchair access?

Yesterday was his funeral-- and his birthday. His mom said, "God gave him to me on this day, and I'll give him back to God on the same day."

She asked me to sing for the funeral. I have NO problem singing for funerals... for people I don't know. Singing for a funeral when you know the person in the coffin... when you know the family is really difficult. Singing for a funeral as you watch grieving parents burying their child is almost unbearable. So, even though I knew almost all the music by heart, I kept my nose in the printed music, so that I could make it through the songs.

When I arrived at the church... I knew everything would be okay. His dad asked if I would sing something from ... ZZTop. After we laughed, I knew everything would be okay... and that healing had already begun.

Guess what THIS is!?!

No, it is not a lamp.

If you guessed "The spot in your house that you cleared out for the Christmas Tree that STILL ISN'T UP!"-- you win 10, 000 points. Instead of a tree, there are spare computer parts and two empty dog crates that someone (who shall remain nameless) put in the empty spot when he should have been helping me PUT THE TREE THERE.

It's December 16, and my tree is not up. *hangs head in shame* That, and now that spot looks so blah and cluttered... it's killing me. Really.

New blog trend?-- pee postings

A few of my favorite bloggers have recently posted some rather interesting anecdotes of accidentally peeing themselves (these two are really funny... nabbalicious and julie_gong). I thought... how brave! Could I tell a story like that about myself? Why not!?! I've known lots of people who have peed their pants. I know guys who have awakened from a deep sleep, dreaming they were finally allowed to relieve themselves in some glorious urinal... only to find that they were actually relieving themselves on a couch. This happens all the time, right?

Well... not counting the period prior to being potty-trained, I don't think I've ever done it. I've never peed my pants. In fact, I had the opposite problem.

I used to have a peeing PHOBIA. As in... I'm not at home? I can't pee.

Go to grandma's house? Wait all day until I go home... so I can pee. (oh the psychosis!) Spend the night at a friend's house? Yep... will have to run home in the morning so I can pee. Go to girl scout camp on a Friday and get home on Sunday? Uh... you guessed it. Held it ALL WEEKEND. (can you spell UTI?)

What the hell was wrong with me!?!?! I spent my youth suffering from chronic infections, because I couldn't TINKLE outside my own freaking home!! I tried. Lord KNOWS I tried. If it was a clean restroom, I could actually make it all the way into the stall. I would walk in, thinking, you can do it! You can do this! But, no dice. Not even a trickle. If it was a dirty restroom, I'd make it in as far as the sinks, and then turn right around. If it was an OUTHOUSE (like at girl scout camp)... hell no. Or to quote the whacked-out Miss Whitney Houston ... "HELL TO THE NO!"

Eventually, I outgrew it. Don't know how. Don't know why. I know... it's a little TMI, but none of you REALLY KNOW me, so what the hell.

*giggle, snort* I mentioned Whitney Houston and pee in the same posting. That's like a thousand points, right?

True Hypocrisy- TransAtlantic version

There's a smoker war going on here in my little corner of the world. Anti-smoking campaign says that all restaurants should be smoke-free, and I agree. Pro-smoking campaign says that people can go somewhere else or into non-smoking rooms if they don't like it.

I happen to be deathly allergic to smoke, so even the faintest wisp will set me off. What the "Pro" campaign doesn't understand is that there are so few non-smoking restaurants around here... sometimes I DON'T have a choice.

Anyway... we can debate that later. I married a smoker-- and reformed him, I think. After reading more debates in the public comment area in our newspaper over this issue, it reminded me of a funny story.

The summer after my freshman year in college, I was on a flight to Great Britain with the university choir. We did a whole UK tour (and that's an entirely different post!), and it was a really good time. Pubs=fun.

On the flight overseas, there was a tall, skinny, blond flight attendant with a not so charming personality (read here: BITCH). She asked me for my drink order. As it was on the US end of the flight (and I only 19), I ordered a Diet Coke (really wanted a Fuzzy Navel, but alas! no such luck).

This flight attendant started ranting and screaming (yes, really) at me about the dangers of Nutrasweet and how I was going to get cancer... I should really pay more attention to what I put into my body... blah-dee-blah-blah. Apparently she was loud enough in her chastising of me that other passengers tried to console me... not that I was upset or anything... just totally bewildered.
So... later on in the flight, when we actually NEEDED something from this flight attendant (like pillows, blankets, not her crazy advice), she was nowhere to be found. I was able to crane my neck around to look for her in the rear of the plane... and there she was... SMOKING. I didn't know whether to laugh or throw things at her. Considering this was pre-911, throwing things probably wouldn't have gotten me into too much trouble, and I think the rest of the passengers would have joined me.

Wow. I just really showed my age. Yes, people used to be able to smoke on flights. *groan*

5 Reasons to be Happy today...

1. I'm finally over the flu or food poisoning (not sure which it was). Missed a day and a half of work, but more importantly... missed 2 days of blog land! And... I actually had an appetite tonight. Mmm... chicken.

2. I'm not stressing that I don't have all my Christmas shopping done. (What? Gah! Dammit... scratch that one!)

3. There's another hockey game tomorrow night. I never thought I would like hockey, but the fights are totally cool. Seriously. It isn't better than football, but I could get into this. Plus, our season tickets are FREE. Best reason to go.

4. The hostile takeover of my local bank (okay, it wasn't really hostile... but I'm not thrilled about it) hasn't YET caused me any major problems. I think I have a year to change over all my old account numbers to the new account numbers.

5. Best news of the day: My gas bill wasn't over $100! We had sub-zero temps for almost two weeks, and my stubbornness to keep the thermostat down actually paid off. Woot! Let the drinking.... I mean, celebrating begin! Wait..... Oh, damn! I just noticed that the billing period didn't cover the sub-zero temps period. Yeah... so I'm not so happy now. boooooooooooooooo

So... somebody please tell me something that made you happy today. I'm just a little bummed now, and I could use some cheering up.

Why do I love my bed so much?

That is the question. Why do I get up in the morning thinking about how soon it will be before I can go back to bed? Why do I CRAVE a nap so much during the day? I'm not depressed. I don't want to live in bed, because then I couldn't do all the cool, fun things that you... you know... have to leave your house to do. But sleep is the biggest thing on my mind these days. No, it has nothing to do with the seasons, 'cause I'm like this all year long.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME!?!?!?!!?

Sappy Time- A League of Their Own

AMC is showing A League of Their Own right now. This is one of my closet favorite movies. I don't know that I would admit that to people who actually know me... but it's okay in Blogland, right? (don't answer that)

Reasons to love this movie:

1. For me: I am an older sister, and my little sis and I have a similar relationship as Dottie and Kit. Except I don't have long legs. and I don't look like Geena Davis did in this movie. We both played softball, though. Their last scene together after the World Series gets me misty every time.

2. Jon Lovitz -- the guy is funnier than hell. "You know, if I had your job, I'd kill myself." -- "...didja promise the cows you'd write?" "Yeah, I'm just going home, grab a shower and shave, give the wife a little pickle-tickle, and I'm on my way." Priceless.

3. Tom Hanks in a funny role-- The "no crying in baseball" line is a classic now. Oh, and the peeing scene. Laughed my ass off the first time I saw that.

4. Marla Hooch-- the name alone is a hoot, but when you see her peer up under her baseball cap, yikes! or when she's singing "It Had To Be You" at the Bucket of Suds. Bigger Yikes! Charm school assistant: "What do you suggest?" Charm school instructor: "A lot of night games."

5. Madonna in a non-slutty role... oh, wait... scratch that.

6. Betty Spaghetti-- another good name. Oh, and SHE is Penny Marshall's daughter.

7. All the "before they were Stars stars"-- Tea Leoni, Rosie O'Donnell, Bitty Schram, and a few others that are pretty much D-Listers

8. Laverne directs, Squiggy gets a part-- David L. Lander is one of the radio sportscasters.

9. John Cusack's sister, Ann, plays Shirley Baker, the girl who can't read. "Gr - Gra - Grabb'd." "Grabbed." Her. M - mi - mil - mil - milky, milky. White, white. Milky white. Milky white bre - breasts.

10. No women played hookers, strippers, or had to get naked in this movie. Not even Madonna. ACES, baby!


Thanks to imdb.com for help with the quotes.

Nighttime ponderings...

1. what to wear tomorrow
2. how effective a workout would be at 11:27pm (will procrastinate until the morning)
3. how many times jurgen worked in "badonkadonk" into her daily conversations today :-)
4. how sexy are baggy ONESIES jammies (not really pondering... already know answer... but am in denial)-- maybe this is why the Farm Boy, Westley is already asleep
5. why am I still awake when I have to be at work an hour earlier tomorrow
6. why is Brian Wilson back in the public eye after years of being a recluse (not criticizing his decision... just pondering)

Healthy Lifestyle update

1. Weight loss since posting SMART Goals: 0 lbs

2. Total minutes exercised since same post: 30 seconds of jumping jacks, maybe a total of 30 minutes walking. (does sex count?)

Lame. Very lame. So much for accountability. I have to lose 5 lbs. by December 31. Maybe I should get a move on, eh?

Two things not helping me reach my goals: tubs of cookie dough in the freezer, frantic pace at work which make me think I'm too tired to workout when I get home.

To help with goal-- I'll post weekly about this issue and list total lbs. lost, total exercise. Gah.

Unintentional Comedy from VH1 -- FIN!

My faith in people’s tastes has been reinstated… for now. Michael Copon has won the VH1 contest, But Can They Sing. Morgan Fairchild came in third place, so it was down to Carmine Gotti Agnello and Michael. After an hour-long show of prolonging the results—including a truly ghastly rendition of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody (we’re sorry, Freddie!) where they brought back ALL the contestants (minus Joe Pantoliano)—we finally learned that Michael Copon had won. That means that 12 year-old girls everywhere are disappointed, but that also means they are not the ones holding all the cards. Thank God!

Now for the scary part: they let Bai Ling come back and sing a solo… for ENTERTAINMENT purposes only. No! Why? Are you kidding me? Oh, wait… the song they chose for her is I Touch Myself by the Divinyls. Lord-love-a-duck—what the HELL were they thinking? Hmm… she wears little to no clothing, she likes to hump chairs while she sings. THIS is a good song choice for Bai?!? Okay, so basically she played with herself through most of the song. Really. I know VH1 is on cable, but it’s BASIC cable. They tout this show as a FAMILY show. Oh, man… I can hear the phones ringing and the emails shouting. If the chick could actually sing, I might even forgive her for the raunchy show. Even Ant was sweating bullets.

Best thing about the results of this show… I can stop wasting my Sunday nights on this crap and get back to Grey’s Anatomy.

Image Credit: DeepCreekAlumni

Rant time.
Do you ever get so frustrated with people that you want to just scream??? Why are some people so nice to you on a personal level, but then on a professional level... they are total FREAKING ARSEHOLES! I don't even know where to go with this-- I'm THAT frustrated.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone blames me for something that went wrong because he/she didn't do his/her own job. And then sends an email out to broadcast it to a bunch of co-workers. And if I point out that, no... it's not my fault, it's Butthead's fault for not doing "blah-dee-blah-BLAH," then I look like a total shithead. *my promise to not swear (much) in blogs is in the shitter now*

Picture credit: Lost in Frustration.