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Category Archives: Christmas

All the Who girls and boys would wake up bright and early. They’d rush for their toys!

Well, here it is, the day after Christmas. For some of you, this is the first day of Kwanzaa, so happy happy Kwanzaa. For some others, it is Boxing Day, so happiest of all days of boxing to YOU. For me it is back to work day, and then directly after work I have a theater meeting so we can talk about plays, and then it is time to come home and eat and go to sleep. Sleeping, incidentally, has not been the easiest, because of the coughing. Because if you sleep on one side your lungs start blurbling and you cough, so you roll over and then it happens all OVER again, and listen, you even try sleeping sitting up on the couch but your body laughs at you for that folly. It is a true story. Also, what kind of “cough suppressant” is in Nyquil and Dayquil, anyway? It is TERRIBLE and it DOES NOT WORK.

Anyway, so when I woke up from my…oh, I don’t know, four or five hours of sleep that I managed to get because of the demon-coughing on Christmas Day (and also I stayed up late because I could, and because it wasn’t like I was going to sleep anyway, and because sj and I were listening to music together online, and how much fun is THAT? a LOT, is how much), I thought, I COULD try to fall back to sleep, or I could GO OPEN PRESENTS. Also check my email. Which is like a present I get daily, let’s be honest. And it was, I totally had some of the best email ever, but that’s neither here nor there. IT IS CHRISTMASSSSSSS.

So I went into the living room and I had a phone message. (Shush, I still have a landline, I’m like a old-school person.) It was Dad! “Why aren’t you awake. Ho ho ho. It is Christmas. WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING. You have PRESENTS to open. Ho ho ho. ARE YOU STILL ASLEEP?” It was like 8:45am, by the way. (When we were kids, we used to wake our parents up at ungodly hours to open gifts. When we got older, he was sad when that stopped happening, so he used to stomp. My brother and I were woken on Christmas morning at like 6am by the melodious tones of my father harrumphing and STOMPING LOUDLY ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR. And we’d mutter and drag ourselves downstairs and he’d be all, “Oh! Well! There you are! You’re finally awake! I wonder how you both happened to wake up at the same time like this? This is truly a Christmas miracle. LET’S OPEN PRESENTS NOW!”) I didn’t hear the phone because it’s in the living room and I sleep with a fan on that’s as loud as a jet engine. On purpose. Because sometimes the cat is very bumblesome at 3am and I wake up easily if I hear things.

So I called him back and he was all sad that he’d potentially woken me up. “I didn’t even think, this is like your only morning to sleep in, but I was SO EXCITED IT WAS CHRISTMAS,” poor sad Santa Dad said. I assured him he did not wake me up and that his phone call was like the equivalent of him stomping to wake us up and he liked that a lot. Poor Dad, no kids at home for Christmas. My brother was at HIS house and I was at MINE and my mom was drinking some coffee or something, I don’t know.

So we talked for a little while and then it was PRESENT time. Dad thought I should take all day to open the presents. He recommended opening a present every 18 minutes. He made up that number. 18. I’d suggested every twenty minutes but apparently that was too round of a number for him so he decided 18 minutes. However, when presented (heh, no pun intended) with that pile of presents I just couldn’t be that patient. PRESENTS FOR ME! And also one for Dumbcat. But also me!!!!

I probably should have taken more photos but a., I was really tired, and b., I was kind of opening these in a frenzy, yo.

First, there was a stocking. I knew it was a stocking because it was a box with “THIS IS A STOCKING” written on it. And covered in tape. I didn’t get my tendency to use too much tape on things from the neighbors, people.

In the stocking we had a variety of things. Ironically, in the stocking there were stockings. HA HA GET IT? (I asked for pantyhose. I need to wear more skirts in my life. I have a lot of them, why the hell am I not wearing them? I also need to buy some tights. Where would a person get kicky tights, I wonder?)

Also, there was…

A calculator! I know, probably you think that’s dumb. But I’m excited because for some reason I have trouble using the ones online and I like to balance my checkbook. Like an old person, shush.

Salad tongs! SO I CAN PICK UP GROSS THINGS WITHOUT USING MY HANDS! What? I’m supposed to use these for salad? Oh, shit, ok, well, whatever, fine.

The most euphemistic meat stick you’ve ever SEEN! (My mom always puts Slim Jim-style meat products in my stocking. Despite the fact I don’t like them. If I’m at home, when she’s not looking, I sneak ‘em to my Dad. This year, I guess I’ll wait til I see him again and give this to him then. What, it’s not like it’s going to go bad. The preservatives in this thing could keep it fresh forEVER.) I also find it humorous it has a weird-looking Bigfoot on the package. What kind of meat, exactly, is this made of?

Printer ink! Well, since I don’t have a printer…that makes me think…SPOILER ALERT I think I know what one of these presents might be.

Then I ripped into the presents like a Tasmanian Devil. A CHRISTMAS DEVIL.

I didn’t take photos of EVERYTHING. There was some soap and shower gel and towels and money and chocolate and a gift card for books and blank CDs and things I did not photograph because why would you take photos of EVERYTHING, come on.

There was a new cat tree for the Dumbcat, because he has shredded his to pieces. I put it together for him and you’d think he’d he all over it, but he hasn’t woken up yet today. I was covered up with a blanket last night, and left it on the couch when I went to bed. He has claimed that blanket as his own and has not moved from it all day. I have to situate my legs around him on the couch. He’s so cute. He’s just a ball of fur and purrs right now. You can’t even wake him up. You can pet him and he just purrs harder and continues to sleep. It’s the only way I know he’s not dead, honestly.

THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING, DUMBCAT!!!

THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING, DUMBCAT!!!

I did take photos of the MOST exciting things, though.

NEW SNEAKERS!!!!

OMG THEY ARE SO PRETTY.

They are silver and “berry” but really kind of purple and they are WONDERFUL and I LOVE them. I opened the box and I said “OOHHH!” and stared at them for the longest time. Now I am wearing them so I know they fit and so I can wear them to work if I want (we’re in dress-down mode at work until March, I can wear sneakers every day if I want to) and they are ADORABLE.

Well, in this photo I seem to have feet the size of America but who even cares LOOK AT MA PRETTEH NEW KICKS. Also my snowman socks. I only have a few more days to wear my holiday-themed socks, I’m wearing the hell out of them.

A new printer! YAY! I don’t have to print things at Staples anymore! (I suppose I could print them at work but I don’t like to be stealy.)

I kind of gave up on photos at this point. MY NEW VACCUUM! It’s sideways because I was too tired to pick up the box. Look how little! And it says “eureka!” so you KNOW it’s going to pick up all the cat hair, yo.

I saved BFFs presents for last.

First there was a gift set from LUSH. LUSH is a fancy-schmancy bath and body place. I got THIS one:

It has soap and bath bars and lotion and shower gel and it smells AMAZING in here right now, just from the BOX. Also, the box is glittery and gold and beautiful.

Then there was HIS present, with a card with our SECRET NAME on it (shh) and inside there was one present that’s an inside joke and also touching, so I’m not telling you that one, and the aforementioned gift card for books, and THIS PILLOW ZOMG. I cried and laughed and then cried some more. SO EFFING ADORABLE.

BEBEH PENGUIN YOU GUYS! It is ADORABLE! It now lives on my couch so I can see it every day and think of how much I love my BFF.

There was one last thing in the package. This thing…well, I talked to him today, and I said, “BFF, I think I have to make you a video of me trying this thing.”

BFF was enthused. He misses my face, as I ALSO miss HIS face.

So…without further ado…me. And my new thing. (I don’t have makeup on today, and also my hair…well, it’s got some weird unexpected body happening. Also I’m sick. As you can tell. Hack hack cough.)

Now I have to go make a little ham and some broccoli because I promised my mom I would have some veggies today and some olives because I like to eat them from the can and also sometimes put them on my fingers and eat them off my fingers like I’m a child. Shush, you, it’s Christmas, I’m allowed.

It was a very good Christmas, all-told. And I hope you all had the Christmases you deserved, as well. Truly and truly.

Dumbcat wishes you a Merry Christmas as well. When he was sleeping I tied the ribbon from BFF’s gift around his neck. HE DID NOT EVEN CARE. He slept like this for a good hour before I felt guilty and took it off. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night, says Dumbcat.

ZZZZZ, and purr, says Dumbcat. ZZZZZ and purr. (I’ve had him for years and I think this is the first Christmas we’ve spent together, to be honest. I always go home. He’s probably just so happy I’m here. He probably thinks he’s in heaven. So he’s had the best Christmas ever, then. The best Christmas a Dumbcat has ever had.)

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Just utterly crammed with Christmas cheer, just absolutely stuffed

Merry Christmas, my darlings. And joyous Yule. Or whatever you celebrate. Maybe nothing, in which case the happiest of non-secular Tuesdays to you, and I most sincerely hope you get the day off so you can say, “I HAVE THE DAY OFF FOR NO GOOD REASON!” which I think would be kind of awesome, wouldn’t it? You could do whatever you WANT! Perhaps go see Les Miserables!

If I didn't hate people so much, I'd go see it just for "On My Own," yes I would.

If I didn’t hate people so much, I’d go see it just for “On My Own,” yes I would.

I’m writing this the day before, as I tend to do. I had a half-day for Christmas Eve; no one was in the office. It was a ghost town. A ghost town of people looking at the clock and was there ever a mad dash for the door at noon – whoo! Most people seemed to want to do things like get to traveling or start baking or something. I needed to go buy toilet paper and milk and was worried the Rite Aid was going to be closed. I wasn’t even going to dare the Target or the grocery store, not on Christmas Eve, no no not THIS woman.

Whoo, look at THIS Rite Aid! Fancy, no?

Whoo, look at THIS Rite Aid! Fancy, no?

At the Rite Aid, people were scrambling for last-minute gifts like possibly soap-on-a-rope, I don’t know. I just wanted some toilet paper and some milk. Also some chocolate, because sometimes you need chocolate because you think it’s going to make things all better? (Side note: most of the time it does. Depending on how badly you’ve been hurt. And I suppose how much of it you eat. And just how good the chocolate is.)

So there were a billion people around the cards (listen, I’m sorry, there’s not that one perfect card…it’s what you WRITE in the card that counts. I hate to tell you this NOW, at like the literal 11th hour, but that’s just the truth. You could give a blank card, and write the right thing in it, and it’d be the perfect card. Trust me on this one, ok?) and pawing through the Christmas chocolate and the decorations and Christmas nailpolish and they all had that wild-eyed look in their eyes like MUST GET THINGSSSSS even though the THINGSSSS were THINGSSSSS from the Rite Aid, and not the right things (or even the “rite” things), probably, at all.

It amused me someone online took a photo of the Rite Aid Christmas aisle. Mine was looking...sparser than this today.

It amused me someone online took a photo of the Rite Aid Christmas aisle. Mine was looking…sparser than this today.

So I got my toilet paper (yes, yes, YES, I realize only a dummy runs out of toilet paper on Christmas Eve. And I didn’t run OUT. Don’t be getting mental images of me having to use CATALOGS or something. I just was down to one roll and was worried I might run out tomorrow when nowhere was open to get any more. And THEN it would catalogs, you know? No one wants to be the person trying to use a catalog to clean their nether regions on baby Jesus’s birthday, people.) (SIDE NOTE: I just read that last sentence to my mother and she GASPED IN HORROR and then LAUGHED AND LAUGHED and said “Amy, I know why people read your blog” and I said, “Well, please tell me, I need to know such things, for like RESEARCH or whatever” and she said “Because no one else would ever come up with such things, not anyone ever” and that strangely pleased me, even though I think it was possibly an insult or maybe just the horror, knowing my mom) and some milk because I had a terrible thought, WHAT IF I RAN OUT TOMORROW and I totally wanted a glass of milk. I mean, sure, I haven’t had just a GLASS of milk in like…um…years? But what if I WANTED one. And it was not AVAILABLE to me. Well, that’d be a fine how-do-you-do, now wouldn’t it. And then I was perusing the chocolate selection and it looked like maybe there had been a run on all the chocolate. Why did you people need so much chocolate? Will there be trick-or-treating? What’s that? Stockings? ALL of this for stockings? Huh. I just wanted some chocolate. Preferably some with mintiness involved. ‘CAUSE IT’S CHRISTMASSY DAMMIT. Grumble. (I had to settle for nuts. Nuts are, by the way, not a substitute for mintiness when you have your heart set on mintiness. Nuts are FINE, but not when you wanted MINT, don’t get all “AMY NUTS ARE GOOD.” This is going euphemistic super-fast and that’s not at all what was meant.)

Let's be honest: this is what I wanted. These things are Christmas crack for me.

Let’s be honest: this is what I wanted. These things are Christmas crack for me.

So anyway, I was standing at the chocolate area being all “sigh this is not at all what I wanted, stupid Christmas Eve” and this MAN with a PLAN decided was SO IN THE WAY and shoved past me very very vehemently. Which caused all the chocolate on one part of the display to collapse and fall EVERYWHERE. So he stood there looking at it dumbly for a minute then was all “SIGH SIGH” and picked it all up. So, therefore, in his rush to shove past someone who, by the way, was not even in the way? Cost him about twice as long as just nicely walking past someone would have. Nice one, Christmas Carl.

Then forty-billion people drove around my car when it was halfway out of my parking spot. Didn’t wait for me to pull OUT of the parking spot. Just drove on past. One honked. Well. Um. If you’d waited for me to pull out? Then I wouldn’t be in the way? And you could get around me? Because I started pulling out before you even pulled into the parking lot?

Then I came home to a very cuddly cat and a very warm blanket and a very supportive friend and some very delicious Chinese food; these things, combined with the aforementioned chocolate, managed to make the day not as bad as it could have been.

Sorry for the crankyness of this Christmas post. I should be more…um…mistletoey and holly-sprigged? I’ll get right on that. Where’d I leave that mistletoe DUMBCAT PUT THAT DOWN.

Later there will be It’s a Wonderful Life and The Grinch and A Wish for Wings that Work; tomorrow there will be the opening of the gifts (yes, yes, I will try to remember to take some photos for you) and A Christmas Story. Back to work on Wednesday. Lots to do, which is exciting. I like going in and knowing I have things to do. Then right back to normal; theater things and work things and right back to Amyland and then the new year happens. Oh, I’m looking forward to you, new year, and all your shiny newness. Let’s shed this last year like a snakeskin we’ve outgrown, won’t that be nice? Yes. Yes, it will. (Ironically, the interwebs informs me 2013 IS the year of the snake. Appropriate, no?)

I like this crankety-ass frog, yo.

I like this crankety-ass frog, yo.

Merry Christmas and Yule and whatever you celebrate, my most favorite favorite ones. Spend the day with your most beloveds and hold ‘em real close, ok? Well, I suppose, if you can. Your most beloveds might live in the computer or across the world or whatever, I don’t know your life. Just let them know you love them. Because now’s the time. It’s always the time right now to do that. While they’re there. What, you don’t trust me by now? Trust me on this. Really.

May all good things be yours today. My most fervent wish for each and every one of you today. Even you, Ding Dong Joe. Even you.


Presents and bacon and vegetables and a wonky vaccuum: must be Christmas Eve!

Well, here we are at Christmas Eve. This is one weird Christmas, my favorite bloggonians. Bloggites? We never quite figured that out, now did we. Meh, don’t even care.

(Also, SPEAKING of which, our favorite Andreas informs me it is HIS CHRISTMAS today. Everyone wish our favorite Andreas a Merry Christmas! I don’t hear you even at all a little, dammit. WISH HIM THE BEST CHRISTMAS WHY ARE YOU ALL BEING GRINCHYYYYY?)

ZOMG I totally found a Finnish Christmas card. (Wait, did I, Andreas?)

ZOMG I totally found a Finnish Christmas card. (Wait, did I, Andreas?)

Christmas isn’t happening here for two reasons:

  1. Since I spent a period of the year (a lengthy period) where money was hard to come by, I was not able to Christmas shop for my nearest and dearest. Or send out cards. Or anything Christmas-related. The closest I came was to write up some quick cards and give them to my mom to hand out to my family members, and also buy some Secret Santa (shit shit SNOWMAN Secret SNOWMAN) gifts for that guy at work. Otherwise, nothing. I still plan on doing Christmas next month for people once I’m a little more financially lucrative and have been for a month straight. But that doesn’t help much when everyone else is doing Christmas NOW, you know?
  2. I can’t go home for Christmas this year due to New Job o’Shininess and a lack of time off. I get a half-day today and a day off tomorrow and then it’s back to work for me on Wednesday. That’s not enough time to travel anywhere. Also, Christmas is all topsy-turvy at home this year; things are all being changed-up and different and I don’t deal well with change.

So therefore, Christmas for me will be spent with Dumbcat in my home with my little tree. Which is kind of sadtimes, but I’ve done it before. I’m a brave little toaster.

Brave little toasterrrrrr! Eh, screw it, I don't feel especially brave or toastery today. I like that kicky cape, though.

Brave little toasterrrrrr! Eh, screw it, I don’t feel especially brave or toastery today. I like that kicky cape, though.

However, TODAY (your yesterday) my parents decided to come up and Christmas me up. That’s because they’re the sweetest. So they said they’d be here at 11.

I PLANNED on getting up at about 9 and cleaning up the place because for SOME reason, a certain cat who lives here has been shedding like a crazy. I don’t know what’s going on with that. Aren’t cats supposed to get MORE hair in the winter? They’re not supposed to LOSE hair. Right? Why’s he on some sort of weird backward clock? Oh, why do I even ask, he’s not normal and never will be.

So I’m getting over the flu and I went to bed relatively early and then I couldn’t sleep. No, I don’t know why either. I assume it’s because my brain works thusly: “A THING IS HAPPENING TOMORROW! A THING AMY A THING! HOW CAN YOU SLEEP IF THERE IS A THING HAPPENING TOMORROW AMY! A THING!” In this manner, my brain is very much like Dumbcat’s.

And then I woke up at 7:30am, because why the hell not, it’s not like I finally fell asleep at 1:30 and I’m trying to sleep off the flu or anything. Also, Nyquil tastes like death and doesn’t always work. If you taste like death, you are SUPPOSED to WORK.

*stern look at the Nyquil*

*stern look at the Nyquil*

So then I decided, let’s clean the house!

Things my wonky-ass vaccuum doesn’t vaccuum up so I have to pick up with my hands:

  • small stones
  • little pieces of paper
  • cat hair
  • a weird white plastic thing that I hope wasn’t important because I threw it away
  • random dirt
  • pieces of the cat tree that Dumbcat shredded off with his adamantine claws

Things that my wonky-ass vaccuum does pick up:

  • I don’t know, I’ll get back to you on that one

So mostly, then, vaccuuming was me cussing out the vaccuum for not working and picking up shit with my hands, so it was like old-school cleaning up. Pre-vaccuums. Like a PIONEER. A cranky pioneer who is getting over the flu.

Then I did other things like cleaning up the bathroom and also putting away shoes. I have a lot of shoes for someone who hates shoes and I never put them back in the closet so there’s like a pile and a half of shoes in the middle of the living room. I thought about cleaning up the table but that would take like a month. I have a lot of stuff stacked on that table. And some of it is really GOOD stuff. I can’t just throw it AWAY.

Then Mom called and said, “Your dad is driving so we’re going to be later than planned.”

“Oh, like 3pm?” I said.

“THAT IS NOT FUNNY!” Dad said.

“No, like half an hour late,” Mom said.

So then I just collapsed on the couch and glared at the stupid wonky vaccuum. Stupid wonky vaccuum. (I’m fairly sure it just needs a new bag, but it’s really old and I inherited it from a friend and I don’t know that bags are still available for it, to be honest. And I actually LOVE the vaccuum. It is so old-school. I think it’s made of cast-iron. It’s kind of the best thing.)

I tried to find a photo of my vaccuum but it is TOO OLD. This one's similar. Similar-ish.

I tried to find a photo of my vaccuum but it is TOO OLD. This one’s similar. Similar-ish.

Then my parents showed up. This made Dumbcat FREAK OUT. “Someone is at the DOOR! Someone is at the DOOR!” said Dumbcat. And immediately spun around in a circle and hid under the end table. Then he realized the end table has really high legs, and everyone could SEE him, so he disappeared. I assume up under the couch where he goes.

Mom and Dad took THREE TRIPS to the car to get all the presents. THREE TRIPS! Wait, I will show you the stack of presents.

Also there are two on the tree. That’s a lot of presents, yo.

I asked Mom, “is there one of these you want me to open now, so you can see my excited face?” but she said I could wait until Tuesday because she knew I would be sadface on Tuesday.

(The presents on the far right are from BFF, who mailed them about a week and a half ago and said I could wait to open them until Tuesday. Because he is the best. One of them I know what it is; the other is a SURPRISE. I do love surprises from my loved ones. Well, if they’re good surprises, I guess. Bad surprises can both suck it and bite me. This one’ll be good, though.)

THEN – this is even BETTER, seriously – Mom had this bag? And in the bag was ALL THE THINGS I NEEDED TO MAKE CHRISTMAS FOOD. Both breakfast AND dinner. (I guess lunch is on its own.) There was even a little ham. A little wee one-person ham! SO CUTE. And side-dishes and a teeny-tiny thing of coffee (aw!) and there were totally even things so I could make hors d’oeuvres. YOU GUYS. Is this not the nicest thing EVER? Yes. I’m not even going to tell you that I didn’t cry over that as I was putting it all away. There were VEGETABLES. Actual VEGETABLES! I don’t even…you GUYS. That is the NICEST. I was going to eat leftover CHINESE FOOD. Or maybe a LEAN CUISINE.

Like this. Totally Christmassy, no? What? No? Ugh, why so judgey?

Like this. Totally Christmassy, no? What? No? Ugh, why so judgey?

Then we went to lunch. I actually was hungry for food so we went and had food at a place that sells that. There was a salad bar. The bacon was very far away from us. This made dad upset. “Why are they HIDING the BACON?” said Dad. So he totally persevered and got ALL THE BACON. Which, when I think about it, is probably why the bacon was so far away. Because people don’t want to work so hard for it so they don’t eat ALL of it. Well, they underestimated Dad, now didn’t they?

Don't you hide that bacon from Dad. Don't you even.

Don’t you hide that bacon from Dad. Don’t you even.

And Mom ate all the garlicky biscuits while Dad and I made gaggy noises because they smelled SO GARLICKY. Like, imagine putting your nose in a container of garlic salt. GAG GAG GAGGGGG but Mom said they were very good. She’s a weird one, that Mom. Then she put the last one in her PURSE and when they got home, Dad was all, “YOUR MOTHER IS EATING THAT GARLIC THING OUT OF HER PURSE AMY” and then I laughed and laughed.

ALL THE GARLIC ALL OF ITTTTT

ALL THE GARLIC ALL OF ITTTTT

Then I got home and Dad made me teach him Facebook and Twitter which was…entertaining. Mostly it involved him saying “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to friend anyone. I don’t want to follow anyone. I don’t want to say anything. Why’s Facebook asking me ‘what’s going on?’ That’s none of Facebook’s business. What do you mean, ‘do I want to put any personal information on Facebook?’ Like what? WHERE I LIVE? No. I don’t want to do that. No not at all. This is all very worrisome and I hate it. Close that right now. CLOSE IT.”

So now I am going to bed, and I work for three and a half hours tomorrow (I can totally do that, right? Right. I can stay upright for hours at a stretch now, and I’m barely coughing up a lung once an hour, so it should be FINE) and then I’m off for a day and a half. So THAT will be nice, right?

Plus Tuesday there will be PRESENTS. Maybe if you’re totally well-behaved you’ll get to see them. Or even if you’re a little naughty. I don’t mind a LITTLE naughtiness.

Sigh.

No, Ding Dong Joe.

No.

Put that away.

That was not an invitation.


Hey, I always notice that bored look in their eyes, alright?

I’m having a very lazy day. I probably should be doing a million billion things, but mostly what I decided was a good use of my time today was to watch Chasing Amy and blog. And play with the internet. I feel like a sloth. A super-slothful slothy sloth. I will have you know that I did change out of my pajamas about an hour ago. It was kind of the biggest thing I did today and utterly exhausted me.

Also, can I just say that I could watch this movie a billion times and never get tired of it? There are a lot of reasons for this, but let’s be honest. The main reason is young Jason Lee. Oh, young Jason Lee, before he got all puffy and weird and Scientology-obsessed and named his child Pilot Inspektor; so, so Amy’s perfect movie-boyfriend.

All damagey and potty-mouthed and insanely loyal and beardy and artsy and those EYES. Sigh. (I also love Mallrats Jason Lee, but the movie’s not as good. It’s fine, I like it just fine, but there aren’t enough serious bits. I like the serious bits the most, you see.)

ALSO, can I just say, I refuse to accept that Kevin Smith decided that Banky was gay all along in Chasing Amy and announced that to the world in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back? No, thanks. It was better when it was up for interpretation. I don’t think Banky in Chasing Amy was gay; I think at the end of the movie, when he agrees to the threesome, he’s doing it because he’s staying true to the character he spent the movie creating; he’s a loyal friend, he loves Holden, he’s been Holden’s best friend for twenty years, and he sees that his best friend is close to breaking. When someone you love that much is close to the edge, you’ll do pretty much anything to pull them back, even if it’s not in your own best interest, because your own best interests need to take a backseat right then. Especially if you’re one of my tribe: my loyal-to-a-fault tribe. So, sure, Kevin Smith, if you say Banky was gay and that was the impetus for his actions in the movie, I guess I have to believe you, but I don’t think that was the character that Jason Lee was playing, and I think it’s unfair to the fans to decide that for them.

Retcon it if you want, but I've seen this movie a billion times, and this is a friendship to me. Pure & simple.

Retcon it if you want, but I’ve seen this movie a billion times, and this is a friendship to me. Pure & simple.

I may have spent a bit of time thinking about this.

Oh, shush, I have other plans today. I’m going to actually leave the house at some point and head on over to the library to get some books and return some books; I actually read a whole play this morning (I have like 25 of them to read this month; we’re in the middle of play selection for next season at the theater, so when I’m not doing one of my million other things, I’m reading reading READING all the plays, some of which are more successful than others) and at some point I have to make some food, or order some food. That’s still up in the air. You know what’s nice? Having money so I can make this decision. It’s the nicest. This is a very nice day off of laziness.

I want a BEBE SLOTH NECKLACE! ZOMG. This is the BEST.

I want a BEBE SLOTH NECKLACE! ZOMG. This is the BEST.

The cat is still under the tree. This is ok as long as he doesn’t decide he needs to groom himself. When THAT happens, the whole tree starts bopping around like it’s possessed and I have to say “DUMBCAT STOP DUMBCAT STOP GET OUT FROM UNDER THE TREE TO LICK.” And he doesn’t. He doesn’t take direction well, my boy. So I have to shoo him when that happens.

Here is a Dumbcat story. Did I tell you this? Over the fridge there is a little cabinet. It’s where I keep things I don’t use often. I think there are some vases in there. And maybe the popcorn popper, and the mixer. So one day a couple weeks ago I came home from work and that little cabinet door was standing open. I never open that door, so either I have a ghost, or…DUMBCAT!

It's kind of like this cabinet, only a lot less fancy. I don't live in a nice place, you see.

It’s kind of like this cabinet, only a lot less fancy. I don’t live in a nice place, you see.

So in order to get there, he’d have had to jump up on the kitchen counter (that’s probably…4 feet up? maybe a little more? I’m terrible at estimating height, I assume all women are 5’5 and all men are 6′ tall, it just makes things easier. I also can’t guess weight. I guess I’d make a terrible carny) and then hop up on the fridge (another couple of feet) and then move things out of the way (there’s a bag of cat toys and treats on top of the fridge, plus a box of napkins and a bottle of this vanilla coffee flavoring stuff Mom bought me once I have never used) and open the cabinet (it’s not so easy to open – but he has his polydactyl thumbs, you see. He can get into all kinds of cupboards. How do you think he gets into the pots and pans cupboard? He levers it open with his little thumbs. I’m not even kidding. When I lived with roommate C., the other cats used to look to him to get them into things. He’s like the more evolved version of a cat. Well, thumbs-wise, anyway. Brain-wise, he’s on the low-end of the spectrum. BUT HE IS BELOVED DAMMIT.

You could open cabinets, too, if you had boss thumbs like this. (NO, this isn't Dumbcat. But he has thumbs much like this.)

You could open cabinets, too, if you had boss thumbs like this. (NO, this isn’t Dumbcat. But he has thumbs much like this.)

So the first time, I was all “Aw! Dumbcat! Did you jump up like 6 feet and for some reason get into the teeny cupboard over the fridge? That’s…weird. Adorable, but weird. You’re so fat, how did you even fit in there?”

Dumbcat wants you to all know he’s not fat, he’s big-boned, and he resents that implication.

Then the next day the door was open again. And again the next day. And again and again. And a few days later, he’d apparently fallen off the fridge, because everything was knocked off the top of the fridge and every single thing I have on the fridge – magnets, things I’ve hung up there, all my fridge-crap – was on the floor.

“DUMBCAT! This is ENOUGH!” I said. He looked at me with wide Dumbcat-eyes. So I blocked off his pathway to the cupboard of his obsession with more things and strategically-placed items and it seems to have worked because nothing’s been moved since.

This is a weird cat. Do you think he was this weird when I got him, or it was the living with the weird human that made him weird? What came first, the weird-chicken or the weird-egg?

Chasing Amy is still happening. Things like “If this is a crush, I don’t think I could take it if the real thing ever happened” kind of still get to me. Dammit, Kevin Smith, this movie makes me all squishy. Is this really only fifteen years old? Good grief. Everyone in this looks about 14 years old and everyone’s smoking in public. I feel like maybe I’m super-old. I was just barely legally able to buy LIQUOR when this movie came out, I mean, seriously.

I know it's sappy. Shush. I'm a fan of movie-sap, sometimes. It's a thing about me.

I know it’s sappy. Shush. I’m a fan of movie-sap, sometimes. It’s a thing about me.

(Also, I know it was became very trendy to hate Ben Affleck for a while, and then now we’re all tentatively liking him again now that he’s legitimate and directing excellent intelligent movies. However, I never hated Ben Affleck, even when he was embroiled in that Bennifer nonsense. The reason was his collaboration with Kevin Smith. I could never hate Ben Affleck because of his work in this movie and Dogma. He won me for life with those two movies. Apparently my weirdo loyalty extends to celebrities as well. Although I have to say, his hair looks RIDICULOUS in this movie. IT IS SO TALL! It’s a PUFF of man-hair. It’s ARCHITECTURAL, this hairdo!)

OK, this is short, and very random, but it’s library-time and also I’d like to do some other things today, like maybe write something else, and send email to some people I love, and call Dad and see what’s up in Dad-land, and do some food-related preparation, and think about work next week, and start working on my top-secret Christmas plan that I want to have done for a week from Monday (shh, SECRET PLANS AND SCHEMES! My favorite kind!) and also maybe at some point I might want to start thinking about doing Christmas cards, maybe. SO MANY THINGS.

So this is what lazy days are like, right? Huh. I could get used to this. Easily. EASILY. Maybe Ken is onto something with this idling-being-awesome thing. Hmm. I should probably heed him more often, right? Shh, don’t tell him, though, he’ll get all full of himself. We wouldn’t want THAT, now, would we?

What’s that? He’s probably going to read this?

Ooh, crap, whoops.


So deck those halls, trim those trees, raise up cups of Christmas cheer

Well, I finally did it.

No, not that.

NO, not that other thing.

I DECORATED FOR CHRISTMAS.

And now I am exhausted and I need a nap.

HOWEVER, I thought you’d all like to see the journey to Christmas cheer, Lucy’s Football style.

You would, right? Sure you would. Plus you kind of get a backhanded tour of my teeny-tiny totally messy home with things all over the place in it because I don’t know how to clean up and/or put things away and there’s no room for anything.

DRUMROLL PLEASE!

(Plus cue the Christmas music. Or put on a Christmas movie; I’m watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I had to keep stopping to watch it. Mostly the scene where they kiss for the first time. Oh, I like that so much.)

THE JOURNEY TO CHRISTMAS CHEEEEEEEEER (ZOMG)

First I had to do the little things. I was working my way up to the tree. The thought of the tree was tiring. I worked all day today. And people were SHOUTY. And we had a lot of calloffs. And it was busy. And I have a headache, I can only assume due to not enough sleep this week. I hope to sleep for a billion hours tonight.

These are some candles. But they aren’t REALLY candles. They are ELECTRIC. Friend R. sent me these one year. I like them because they are cheery so I put them out in front of the television.

This is a weird snowman-thing. I don’t know where I got this but I found it in the Christmas crate and I was like, whatever, it wants to come out so it did. Also, there’s some bubble wrap. Andreas is totally jealous right now because he wants some bubble wrap to play a work-prank with. Sorry, Andreas, if you lived closer you could have that.

This is a random jingle bell I hang on the doorknob. It fascinates the cat and makes him go crazy. He thinks it means an angel is getting its wings, apparently, all season long or something, I don’t know. But whenever I come in or out, he RUNS over and looks at it like it’s the second coming. It’s quite worrisome.

This is Dumbcat looking up at the sound of the jingle bell. See? OBSESSED. That thing on the floor is his catnip fish. He used to love that until he licked out all the catnip smell so now it’s just a faded memory of something he used to love.

These are Christmas magnets on the stove. Why? I don’t know. Someone gave them to me once, and I was all, what the hell, the stove is metal.

christmas2012 007

THESE ARE MY MISTLETOADS.

Now, I love all things frogs and toads (and also turtles.) My mom knows this. So one year, she bought me this thing, and it’s HORRIBLE, yet I LOVE it. These are toads that have some wacky wordplay involved and they have plastic mistletoe over them. I think you’re supposed to kiss people under this. I’ll let you know if I ever get someone kissable in my house.

I love my mistletoads. You be quiet.

This is my stupid card-holder thing. It looks better once it’s filled with cards. There’s a turtle over it because the rest of the year, that’s where the turtle lives and I’m not going to move him for a month just because Santa is here, that’d be absurd.

Here, here’s what it looks like with cards in it. (I’ve gotten quite a few cards over the past month but wouldn’t open them until I hung this up. Here are some thing I learned when I opened them: one had a lot of money in it, and two were so covered in glitter there is now glitter all over where I eat my breakfast. One of these things was delightful yet a little worrisome and the other made me FURIOUS. Who thinks a card covered in glitter is a good idea? It’s like they HATED me for Christmas.)

I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the flash, so ignore the glare. See? With cards in it, it’s not as heinous. (I have another one of these around the corner from this one. It’s not this fancy. That one’s for overflow cards.)

This is my stocking. I just hang it up because it’s green and fuzzy. I can assure you I don’t assume Santa’s coming. It’s hanging from my turtle instrument thingy that The Nephew’s mom sent me from Jamaica. I don’t know how to play that thing but sometimes I make it make music and it makes Dumbcat come over and glare at me. So apparently it’s not pleasing music, then. That house-thing over it is supposed to tell you the weather but it’s broken so it always says it’s a heat wave. But my grandmother had one when I was little and I loved it, so I keep it around even though I can assure you the current temperature of 27 degrees is not a heat wave.

Ugh. That’s all the little crap. Now it’s time for the tree. Grumble grumble.

My cheap plastic tree is in two parts. Here’s the bottom part. And the best part of this photo is that I’m being stalked by the cat in the corner of the photo. With his evil glowing eyes. He totally wants to eat my soul.

Here’s the tree all plugged in. What, it’s pre-lit. I AM NOT SCREWING AROUND WITH YOU, CHRISTMAS. Also, putting lights on a tree is tiring. That’s a photo of my mom from high school up there. She had a bouffant. It makes me laugh. Also, we have the same smile.

Now, it’s time for…

What could it be? It looks OLD.

Hmm. It IS old. It was purchased from Ames, which went out of business about ten years ago. (If you are my grandmother, you called Ames “t’Ameses.” As in, “We’re going t’Ameses to buy some undershirts.”) And it cost $1.04. What the hell costs $1.04 nowadays? Nothing does, is what.

Wait, that’s not even the best thing about this.

christmas2012 017

It was made in WESTERN GERMANY! Well, THAT’S exciting. Kind of vague and could be anywhere in Western Germany, but I feel like this mystery thing traveled a long way to make it to me.

You’re so curious about this right now, aren’t you?

Ready? Ready to meet the best thing?

Well, wait no longer. Please let me introduce you to:

THE JAVELIN

This is THE JAVELIN. My brother and I call it this because one year, my mother replaced our traditional Christmas star on top of our tree with this thing. And my brother was all, “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. Where is our star? WHY IS THAT THING UP THERE?” And Mom was all, “I found this upstairs, I thought we’d change things up this year” and I said “Yeah, nothing screams Christmas cheer like topping your tree with a javelin.” Then my brother and I had an inappropriate giggle-fit for like an hour and every time we’d walk past the tree we’d be all “javelin!” and then laugh and laugh and Mom was all “STOP THAT” and then it went away and never came back until I bought my own tree and my Dad snuck this into my Christmas stuff so when I unpacked when I got home I was all “I OWN THE JAVELIN NOW!”

Also, it’s kind of an antique and it’s made of blown glass and I’m shocked I haven’t broken it yet.

And shh, don’t tell my mom, but it’s really kind of pretty. And I like that it’s German. It makes me feel all bon vivanty.

This is the tree topped by THE JAVELIN. See? It’s kind of nice. And also would be a very good weapon, in a pinch.

Then I had to take out all the ornaments. This takes a very long time and also means there’s a lot of reminiscing and also some giggling. You’ll see.

This is a Christmas cactus that BFF sent me. Aw, BFF. I love you and your joyous lit-up cactus.

This is a plastic Grimace from McDonalds they were giving away in 1983 (I only know this from the back of the ornament, it’s not like I’ve memorized this) in Happy Meals. It’s SO TACKY. Which is why when my mom was throwing it away, I was all, NO DON’T YOU EVEN DARE and I ganked it from the trash. A purple plastic 80s Grimace! Who has one of these on their tree? Probably only me. I’m ok with that.

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Friend R. made me this one year. It’s an ark! With my NAME on it!

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She also made me this. I think this penguin is supposed to be eating a fish but mostly it looks like there’s some naughty interspecies blowjobbery going on. It’s a Christmas EUPHEMISM.

This is the best thing, because see how it’s all blurry? That’s because you plug it into a Christmas light and Winnie the Pooh and friends go around and around in the little snow globe thingy. It makes me smile.

This is my leg lamp that friend Mer gave me last year. I love it irrationally. Also, this photo is very artsy and I think should win awards.

This is a Christmas frog wearing a scarf. I have six of these things. Did I mention I like frogs? Because I DO.

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This is a very adorable penguin that I love. Look at that face. Aw, you GUYS!

I find things like this in some of the ornaments and then I cry a little every year. See, my grandmother loved Christmas. Loved, loved, LOVED. She went all out every year. She decorated better than anyone in the world. And we’d all give her ornaments as gifts. And she’d write things in them to remind her who gave her each one. So I got some of them when she passed away, and when I open some of them I find notes in my grandmother’s handwriting, and then I feel like she’s here with me. I miss her the most. She was joyous, my grandmother. And brave and wicked and funny and intelligent and she loved me so ferociously. I miss her at Christmas the most.

Then I found this, and I was lost; ALL the tears. Because last year I thought I’d lost it but really it was under another thing and I found it.

My grandmother had these things made for each of her grandkids when we were born. Then every year, it was a tradition for her to have us each put up our own ornament with our name on it when we came to her house for Christmas Eve. She’d say, “did you put up your ornament?” and as we got older, we’d roll our eyes, but we always did it. (We were too cool for school, you see.)

So when she passed away all the grandkids got their own ornaments and now I have my own ornament and I put it up on my own tree and last year I thought I lost it and I was kind of heartbroken but then I found it. Look. It’s a Christmas miracle. I don’t think we’re supposed to be crying while we decorate the tree, are we? Probably not.

Let’s talk about something happier. This is my best thing. Every year I take this out and I laugh and laugh. And it’s another thing my mom was going to throw away. That makes me mad. Why doesn’t she care about heritage, I ask you?

When my brother was little, he hated all things artsy. Like chorus and art class and pretty much anything but gym and maybe learning a little math. School was not my brother’s favorite.

So one year, at Christmas, they “forced” (per my brother) the class to make ornaments for their parents. Here’s my brother’s. He was probably 4 or 5 at the time.

IT IS THE PISSIEST SOLDIER EVER.

Look at this thing’s mad face! SO MAD! It also perfectly sums up my brother in one little craft. This is the face my brother makes most days. I like that thirty years or so ago, my brother was already this little cranky person, AND HE HAS NOT CHANGED.

I put this on my tree every year. Happily.

NOW WE ARE DONE. The tree is decorated! WAIT! You want a big picture, right? Sure you do.

From far away…

Artsy closeup shot…

So pretty, right? SO PRETTY.

Then, THEN, the MINUTE I WALKED AWAY, this happened.

He’s been under the tree since I finished with it. He is currently sound asleep under it. He apparently has more Christmas spirit than ANYONE. He’s in LOVE with the tree. In LOVE.

There you go. MY HOUSE IS DECORATED. And at the end of the month, I have to take it all down. I don’t…let’s not think about that right now.

MERRY NINE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS MY LITTLE PETITS FOURS!


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