"Why is this not in the candle aisle? This BELONGS in the candle aisle!"

Well, we played the Wal-mart game again. Once again, awesomeness ensued.

We arrived at 1:00 AM. It was me, Liz, Kris, and Lex against Jackie, Jimmy, and Zack. It was a close competition and we were almost defeated by a reed diffuser, but in the end it was some incense from the impulse buys and some green maraschino cherries from the baking aisle that were the undoing of Jackie, Jimmy, and Zack.

Excellent job finding the location of the dog snuggie, Lex. I can't wait for the next one.

I love Christmas vacation

I have decided that I will be staying in pajamas today. All day long.

Don't judge me.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

Also, Gooturducken!

If you get it, you get it. If not, carry on.

"Donkey!" (said in Scottish ogre voice)

So, it's the shortest day of the year, which makes me think with fondness of Gram and how this day would have made her more cheerful than a day in August, because now we start building up to longer days as opposed to losing increments of light with each passing day. Oh, Gram.

As for me, I'm taking some time today to make a cardboard donkey for one of my colleagues. Don't judge me. My friend at work sent this tidbit to me in an email:

December 21st, the shortest day (longest night/Winter Solstice) of the year, is dubbed St. Thomas Day. In parts of the Sauerland (in Germany), whoever wakes up late or arrives late to work on that day is issued the title "Thomas Donkey." This person is given a cardboard donkey and is the subject of numerous jokes throughout the day. But this gentle abuse ends deliciously with round, iced currant buns called "Thomasplitzchen". In other parts of Germany the day is called other names such as Durchspinn-Nacht or Durchsitz-Nacht. Traditionally a lot of alcohol is consumed and the next day is often called Kotzmorgen (hangover morning).

So, of course we had to make a cardboard donkey and present it to our perpetually late colleague. This was my template:


I love December.

Snowed in and loving it!

I love being snowed in. Right now I'm listening to Christmas music, watching the snow fall through windows lined in lights, eating Christmas candy, and I'm about to wrap some presents in shiny foil wrapping paper. Everything is sparkling and glowing and the ground is covered in fluffy white snow. I'm pretty much full-up on contentment.

This makes me happy

Look at those windows. I wonder if I could do this in my sunroom...

The Greatest Christmas Decoration Ever

James just sent this to me.



The man who created it wrote:

"Good news is that I truly out did myself this year with my Christmas decorations. The bad news is that I had to take him down after 2 days. I had more people come screaming up to my house than ever.Great stories. But two things made me take it down.

First, the cops advised me that it would cause traffic accidents as they almost wrecked when they drove by.

Second, a 55 year old lady grabbed the 75 pound ladder almost killed herself putting it against my house and didn't realize it was fake until she climbed to the top (she was not happy). By the way, she was one of many people who attempted to do that. My yard couldn't take it either. I have more than a few tire tracks where people literally drove up my yard."

How's this for a slice of fried gold?

This:


Plus this:

Equals: "I couldn't be happier. Thank goodness!"

This just in:

"Broadway star of Wicked Idina Menzel is in talks to join Fox's Glee as the coach of Vocal Adrenaline, the McKinley High glee club's nemesis. Menzel would appear in the remaining nine episodes of the season."

Whee!!!!

Pass the Kleenex

You know how you could never watch an episode of Little House on the Prairie without crying? Modern Family is the new Little House.

Every episode, man. Every single episode.

The Marie Division is mine!

I am delighted to tell you that I won my division in the cousins' Fastasy Football league. It was a hard fight, but in the end my team, The Dude Abides, rode Kurt Warner's 29 points to victory. The old man came through!

Aaron won the Frank Division and joining us in the playoffs are Melis, Jen, Scott, and Mark. What I am most excited about is the first round bye, which means I only have to win two more games to take the whole enchilada.

I feel like a Little Lebowski Urban Achiever.

A not so heartwarming tale of Christmas past

I have never believed in Santa Claus. It’s a fun little factoid to whip out when playing “Never Have I Ever” or when you want to tell people something that will cause them to stare, open-mouthed, in abject horror. I told some co-workers this today. There was staring. There was abject horror. It was awesome.

This post isn’t about the question of should you or should you not tell your kids about Santa. I have no kids and never will so I needn’t even weigh in on that. (I do have an opinion, and if you know me well, you know what it is.) No, this post is a diverting little tale of what happens when you take a truth-equipped child who is a bit of a smarty-pants and unleash her upon a classroom of unsuspecting 5-year olds.

It was January of my kindergarten year. We had just returned to school after the Christmas break and my teacher, perhaps wanting to ease us back into the school day, asked us who wanted to stand up and tell the class what Santa had brought him or her for Christmas. My hand shot up. Even at age 5, I was able to immediately recognize an incorrect statement and even more immediately wish to correct it as vociferously as possible. It’s not one of my better qualities, but there it is.

My teacher called on two other students before calling on me, and I listened impatiently as they prattled on about Smurf figurines and tricycles. I had gotten a windfall that Christmas, but I wasn’t planning to tell anyone about it. I had something very particular to say that everyone really needed to hear. Finally my teacher called on me, and I stood up tall and announced in a clear, loud voice, “Santa didn’t bring me anything because Santa’s not real.”

I don’t know what I expected. Perhaps a gasp of shock, followed by a clamoring of questions. Really? He’s not? How do you know? Why do you have this important information and we don’t? How are you so smart? How could I have lived this lie for the past five years!

Instead, I was on the business end of a furor. Hissing and shrieking hurled at me from all sides of the room. “Yes he is SO real!” “Santa DOES exist! He brought me a Matchbox General Lee!” “You’re dumb!” Repeat, repeat, repeat.

I remember being genuinely surprised in that moment. I remember thinking, “Seriously? All of you? Every single one of you? It’s such a burden to be the only know who knows what’s really going on here.” (My internal monologue can be insufferable.)

I looked to my teacher, expecting her to back me up, to confirm what we both knew was happening, but her eyes held only panic, incredulity, and a little fear that she might be attacked by a mob of feral, enraged children. She tried to smooth things over as best she could and I took my seat again, imagining a time in five or six years when my classmates would come to me and tell me I had been right all along (they didn’t) and thank me for being a beacon of truth (they SO didn’t.)

I’m really not sure how my parents didn’t feel the need to tell me not to go trumpeting the truth all over kindergarten. Surely they knew what a loud-mouthed little know-it-all they had on their hands. And even if they didn’t, surely Jennifer would have informed them. Furthermore, what was my teacher thinking when she asked that question? How could she not know she was courting disaster? She totally asked for the mayhem that ensued in the classroom once she sparked that inferno. And for the phone calls that evening from angry parents who were putting out fires of their own.

Incidentally, "Never have I ever not told a room full of kindergarteners that Santa doesn't exist" is a bit of a tongue twister, but effective nonetheless.