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Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

I’ll show YOU, Boreas!

Howdy! I hope you all had the best of Thanksgiving weekends. Well, those of you that do such things. Meaning, I suppose, MERKANS. The rest of you didn’t do Thanksgiving this weekend, right? Right.

Here we are back in the real world. Well, mostly that means a month of buying anything that isn’t tied down in order to wrap it in pretty paper and gift it to others. As one does in December. I am…oh, I don’t know, about 40% done with Christmas shopping? Maybe? I should be further along but sometimes you have to wait for paychecks to come in. However! Christmas cards are done, and as soon as I’m done writing this, Christmas DECORATING will be done. Baby steps, ladies and gentlemen, baby steps.

Let’s talk about bad decision-making!

Sometimes, you make poor decisions. No, not YOU, specifically, but yes, probably you. I mean, I don’t know too many people who haven’t made a poor decision now and then in their lives.

Me? I make those decisions on the regular. Hilariously, the good decisions I make are usually mistakes. The bad decisions are the ones I agonize over and finally decide “let’s do this” and then BAM! BAD DECISION HITS YOU UPSIDE THE HEAD YO!

I also have the added problem of decision-making while under the influence of stubbornness. I am a stubborn little thing. If someone tells me what to do, I immediately want to do the opposite. I don’t ALWAYS do the opposite – I can usually talk myself out of it – but sometimes my stubborn gene sets in and I’m all “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, ‘THE MAN!'” and then look out, world, I am not using any sort of common sense to navigate. Like, none. At all.

At the beginning of November, I told my mom, “Wouldn’t it be fun to come home for Thanksgiving and surprise Dad?” We decided it WOULD be fun. So we all secretly planned it all month. And then a week before Thanksgiving WINTER STORM BOREAS raised its evil head.

O NO BOREAS NOOOOO!

O NO BOREAS NOOOOO!

WINTER STORM BOREAS (because we name our winter storms now) was supposed to be like the WORST THING EVER and dump like 18″ of snow on my whole route home Wednesday night. And at first I was all, “eh, I’ll just not go.” But then my mom started telling me I COULDN’T go. “YOU WILL DIE!” said Mom. And Stubborn Amy kicked in. STUPID BOREAS! STUPID BEING TOLD I COULD NOT GO! STUPID RUINING OF THANKSGIVING! STUPID RUINING OF SURPRISING! DOWN! WITH! THE! MAN!

So when the weather reports started saying the storm wasn’t as bad as predicted, I was all, “I AM GOING SCREW THIS” and got in the car right after work and took off. People said things like “are you sure?” and “um…Boreas?” and “you will die, maybe?” and “maybe you should text me when you get there? IF you get there?” and I was all “I WILL BE FINE I AM PLATINUM!”

It was raining here. I could handle rain. Half an hour into the drive, traffic ground to a halt. We started seeing signs that said “right and middle lanes closed due to accident.” We all sloooowly merged over. Come to find out two tractor trailers had not only hit one another, they’d tipped over, spilling their contents all over the place. It was quite nervous-making.

But I sallied forth! I WAS SALLYING!

The night started to get colder. The winds picked up. This led to frozen roads and the car getting PUSHED to ONE SIDE. The winds were that bad. So I had to use BOTH hands on the wheel and pay super-close attention. I started thinking, “this might not have been the best idea.” But! Stubborn! Sallying, dammit, SO MUCH SALLYING!

I stopped at the rest stop I always stop at and did some deep breathing. Whew. At that rest stop, you have about an hour, an hour and fifteen minutes, until you reach my parents’ house. I could do this.

Went in. Rest-stopped. Came out. And it was snowing like hell. A woman was crying outside the door. “I DON’T WANT TO DRIVE IN THIS ANYMORE,” said the crying woman. A frat boy fell down in the parking lot because so icy.

Effffff.

So what does one do? Get back on the slippery windy highway and drive back to Albany where the weather was better, but drive through all that again? Or keep on a’truckin’ (or car-in’, I guess) and just deal with what was coming?

Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn.

I kept going.

The roads got worse as I drove. At least on the highway you could see the lines. Nothing seemed to have been plowed once you left the highway; the roads were all packed-down ice and snow and slick. Slick, slick, SLICK. And it was snowing hard enough that I couldn’t see.

I’d told Mom I’d be home by 8; that gave me an extra hour in case of traffic or weather.

8 came and went. I couldn’t call anyone; it was too slippery to not pay attention to the roads, and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

I almost went off the road, all-told, 4 times. I cussed (at the weather, at myself, at other drivers) too many times to count. My check engine light randomly came on. I couldn’t change my playlist so I listened to the same 20 songs over and over and OVER. (Luckily, I loved them, so I was ok with that. And now I know ALL THE WORDS.) I said, “THIS WAS A VERY STUPID DECISION!” repeatedly.

But I kept driving.

And I finally pulled into my parents’ driveway at 8:40pm. Five straight hours after I’d left. My mom came to the door and looked FRANTIC. My dad came, looking confused, saw me, got BIG HUGE SURPRISED EYES, and then opened the door. I thought he would yell out, “what are you doing here?” and it would be all a happy surprise but he ACTUALLY yelled “THIS IS NOT FUNNY! NOT FUNNY AT ALL!” and then SHUT THE DOOR ON ME! He did not even help me bring in my things in all the snow. So I went in with all my things and was all “OLD MAN I AM SURPRISING YOU FOR THANKSGIVING COME GIVE ME A HUG” and he stomped in all “BOREAS SO STUPID WHAT WERE YOU THINKING” and then gave me a hug and said “it is nice to see you” very quietly so I won Thanksgiving.

This is getting hellaciously long, so I will rush through the rest. We had a lovely Thanksgiving, including the following things:

  • napping
  • sleeping in
  • hanging with The Nephew
  • eating our weight in Thanksgiving foods
  • watching Kill Bill 2 with Dad and having to explain the plot to him and giggling
  • visiting my grandmother
  • helping my dad figure out how to turn his new cell phone onto vibrate
  • ordering things for Dad on Amazon (“what is this PRIME? No SHIPPING? This is AMAZING!”)
  • rolling my eyes until they almost ruptured at the constant stream of Fox News that happens in that house
  • looking at eleventy-billion photos of Mom’s trip to Rome (“AMY! The statues were NUDE! Can you IMAGINE?”)
ZOMG! COVER YOUR EYES!

ZOMG! COVER YOUR EYES!

Then on Friday morning, after my nephew cheerfully greeted my sleepy-eyed self with “Aunt Amy! You are awake! Do you want to race?” (I did not want to race, but I totally watched HIM race), I packed up leftovers and the car and Dad filled it with gas and wiper fluid and gave me many pretend-gruff hugs and off I went. And luckily the drive home was uneventful (except Dad didn’t close the hood all the way, and I didn’t realize that until a couple hours into the drive, so Dad was all, “YOU! COULD! HAVE! DIED!” but I didn’t die. Obviously.)

So: yep. Very, very stupid stubborn idea. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t. That was a terrible drive. I’m too old for that shit. But, overall: a very, very good Thanksgiving. Got to spend it with my family, for the first time in a decade; got to read with The Nephew; got to hang out with my dad; got to eat so much delicious food. NOM.

But if I try to do something ridiculous like that again, please slap me upside the head and tell my stupid, stubborn self that it’s better to be alone on the holiday and alive than dead on the side of the road trying to get some turkey and family hangtime. Good grief.

OK, not as stupid as this...which made me cackle like a moron...but still pretty stupid.

OK, not as stupid as this…which made me cackle like a moron…but still pretty stupid.

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Hapy Thankgivinge blog peeple from Dumbcat!

Hello to peeple of the blogge!

This is me! Dumbcatte!

This is me! Dumbcatte!

Momme sayed I could rite here twoday because she is travelng. She goed to visit my grandprnts for Thaynksgvng. That meens they are her momme and daddy, and also that when they visit us, they pet me on my head and maek me purr lots. I used to be afrayed of her dadde because he has lowd feet and also voyce, but the last tyme he was heere, I was braevecat and he petted me lots and I headbuttted him maeny tiems and he laffed. I did not even hied in the cubbord of pans and pots, and momme sayed I was a very goode boye and gave me many cuddels after they goed home. 

Momme says this is Thanksgivign. On Thankggivng we usually just eat turkeybird and watch a cartoon about a beegle that makes toast and popcoarn for some kids for dinner and momme says, “this is Charlie Brown Thanksgeeving, Dumbcatte” and I don’t know what that meens but this yeer momme is surprising her daddy and goang home at nighttime to say “surprise srprise I am visting” and I will miss her but she sayed “I will be hoam Fridaye Dumbcatte and will give you much treets and hugs” and I sayed “meow” because that is how Dumbcatts say “I loev you Mom mom momme and also I love treets.” 

This is the beegledog making tost and popcorns. I am a littel scared of beegledogs.

This is the beegledog making tost and popcorns. I am a littel scared of beegledogs.

I am writng here twoday because momme sayed that on Thanskgivng you are supposd to write a bloggepost about what you are thankfulled for. I diden’t know what that meened so I asked the squirrle that’s been hanging out on our powrch. “SQUIRRLE!” I said in louwdvoice becuz he is behind a window, “SQUIRRLE WHAT IS THANKFULLED?” and Squirrle said “CHIRP SCOLD CHIRP!” because that is squrrle-talk and it meens “the things you feel lucky to have.” I like Squirrle, he has a tail I want to bYte and pounce on but Momme saes “no no Dumbcatte! You cannot go owtside because of running awaey and also it is cowld.” Momme knows about running awaye and also cowld because she gowes outsideplayces a lot! She is grownup laydee and weares a coat that is soft and smels like sheeps to me. She has to hang it in the clowset because or else I like to sleep on it and get furrs on it and she says “sigh sigh DUMBCATTE! You have mayde my gude wool coat all furrs!” 

Squirrle friend! Why is he alwaeys on our porche? Momme doesn't know why eithre.

Squirrle friend! Why is he alwaeys on our porche? Momme doesn’t know why eithre.

So with the help of Squirrle (THAYNK YOU SQUIRRLE I LIKE YOURE TAYLE TO BYTE IT) I thinked of things I am lucky to have and thankfulled for becuze it is Thaynksgving! Momme will be so prowd of me she will pet my tayle many timez and give me all the treetz! 

ONE. I AM THAYNKful for having many toews. Most cattes only have some toews but I haev ALL THE TOWES! Momme saeyz I am pollydactul and Moeme’s freynd from Britain Engaland Elayne sayz I am Hemmingway catte. All of my toes are good towes and I lyke to scratch things and Momme says “you have ruinede the cowch!” but she doesnot care really becauz this howse is catte frendly, she sayz. 

Do you think this catte is my brother or sistre? HELLO BROTHRE OR SISTRE!

Do you think this catte is my brother or sistre? HELLO BROTHRE OR SISTRE!

TWO. I em thankfull for treetz. They are deleceus. You shuld eet treetz! In my howse, we have treetz at nighttimez. I start to ask momme for them and she says “Not TIME, Dumbcatte!” but I donot know about TYME so I roll on the carpetstuff and then I say, “meiouw?” in a polyte voyce and she says, “it is treettime at EIGHT PEE EMM, Dumbcatte, and right now it is FIVE OH TWO pee emm!” and I donot know what that is means so I just keep asking in MORE and MOAR polyte voices and sometymes this maeks her scoope me up and kiss my bellee and say, “YOU ARE A BEGGAR, DUMBCATTE!” and then I have to get on the flore and lick my bellee furrs because they are messee now. Mommees make your furrs messy but you still love them. Then she gives me treetz and I run all arouwnd the room EETING The treetz and crunching and purring and she laughs and says, “you are liek a treet vacuum” and I eet and purr and crunch because SO GUDE! 

I like theese treetz! They crunch in my teeths.

I like theese treetz! They crunch in my teeths.

THUREE. I am thankfule for warm. Becuz when I was yungcatte, I lived on dirt and it was wintertymes. And it was cowld, and there was snowe. And I had to eat things that smeled badde. And peopel yelled at me and that was skary. And I hidded under a garaeg but it was stille cold and my tummy was hungury and I cut my foot on a sharup thing and it was owch. But in howse with Momme, there is warm! And also blaenkts, and cowches, and bed with Momme, and foods, and treetz, and a bird on a string that teeses me and makes me run all around and byte it and byte it and leep in the air until I am tired, that byrd is tricky and always gets awaye! 

There is that bird! How did it get on the blogge? TRIKCY!

There is that bird! How did it get on the blogge? TRIKCY!

FORE! I am thaynkfel for MOMME! Asweoihegw0hweg 

Please to excuse the cat I falled off the cowch becuz I was excitde. 

I will start over agayne! 

FOURE I AM THANKFUL FOR MOMME! 

This is my momme. I am not in this photo because I was sleepinge. Cats sleep a lot and more a lot.

This is my momme. I am not in this photo because I was sleepinge. Cats sleep a lot and more a lot.

Momme is the best momme and at first I was scayred of her because I was scayred of all people, but then one day I sayed, I like this laydee because she gives me foods and her howse is warme and she lets me sleepe anywhere I want to sleepe and does not yell loudvoyce at me and she did not make me leeve the nice waerm howse so maybe she will not ever do that. So I sneeked out of under the bed with the dust that maked me sneeze and sneeze and I headbutted her fayce when she was sleeping and then I thought o no! She will be madtimes! But she was NOT madtimes and she just laffed and sayed “Dumbcat! Are we friends now?” and petted my furrs and I liked that so much and when she moved out of that howse I was skared! But she taked me with her! To another howse! Then she left that howse and took me to a NEW howse! She does never leave me behind because she is my Momme. And I sleep next to her fayce and she pets me until she falls asleep and sometimes I waek her up by jumping on her and she says “owch Dumbcate that is my spleene!” but it is ok. Because when someone is your Momme they aren’t really mad at you for jumping on their spleen or throwing up on the rug. They just clean it up and say “poor Dumbcatte how is your tummy. Pleese try to throw up on the tile next tieme, my little sweet poetatoe.” 

It is niec to have a mommee and I hope you all haev Momees or Dades, or maybe penguins, they are funnee, or mome says you can also have two mommees or daddees and that is ok and I say ok, who cares, as long as there is petting of Dumbcattes? Twiece the petting is ok with me! I am Dumbcatte! If Mommee marrys a boyperson someday he can pet my furre. I will let him. Do you think he will give me treetz? 

I want a pet pengiune, momme! This one is happey.

I want a pet pengiune, momme! This one is happey.

I am going to sleepe now because tomorrow momee will be home and I miss her and will sleepe on her bed now. I can get under her covers because she is not hear and will not know until she gets home and then she wOUld say “Dumbcatte who unmade the bed, was it a robber?” and I will say “mieouw!” which meenz “yes momme a bad robbere came in while you were gone and sleeped in your bedde it was not me, Dumbcatte!”

ROBBERS, MOMME, I TOLDED YOU!

ROBBERS, MOMME, I TOLDED YOU!

Happy day of turKeys to you all and also thankfulnesses and I hope you are all happeytimes. If you are not happeytimes you should get a pet like a cat or a dogge or a squirele or a penguin or a goat.

Oh, Momme sayz to tell you that SHE is thaenkful for haeving many good jobbes and her familee and her friendz that she lovez so much and for having a year that waz unprediktable and also wonderfulle, and for having all teh love in her lief, then she had teers in her eyez a littel so I headbuttde her and she laffed.

So, in summatione, you should get a pengiune pet.

LOVE DUMBCATTE

This is my authore photo like when you write a booke. I look verey seriuoustimes!

This is my authore photo like when you write a booke. I look verey seriuoustimes!


The most wonderful time of the year to not repeat the mistakes of last year

The weather’s getting colder (and, although I’ve been resisting it, I think it’s about time I turn on the heat in here. The cat’s been all up in my business over the past few days, and although it’s flattering, I think it’s less “LOVE YOU, MOM!” and more “ZOMG WOMAN! I AM CHILLY!”) Thanksgiving’s just a few weeks away, and you know what THAT means. Christmas is right around the corner.

Haven’t decided what I’m doing about Thanksgiving this year. I get two days off, but have to be here Friday night for a theater review (and Saturday for work.) But since I’m not able to go home for Christmas again this year (sincerely, Christmas on a Wednesday? HIGHLY unhelpful, especially since we don’t get the day before or after off) it might be nice to jet home quickly, see my family, get some delicious foodstuffs, and then come back in time to review the show Friday night. I don’t usually go home for Thanksgiving, and my family’s not expecting me, but it might be a nice surprise. (And it’d be really nice to have home cooking one night. Thanksgiving dinner is the best.)

Yes, please. Thank you.

Yes, please. Thank you.

But since it’s Christmas alone again this year, I’m not going to fall into the trap of last year. Last year’s Christmas was just about the worst Christmas ever. I had the flu; I was super-depressed on TOP of the flu; I didn’t get to go home so my parents came to visit and gave me gifts but I was so sick with the flu I barely remembered their visit and after they left I fell asleep for 6 hours in the middle of the day; and once I opened presents on Christmas day I went back to bed for the rest of the day, pretty much, and also cried a little and took a lot of Nyquil hoping it would make the fever go away (it didn’t.) I also couldn’t do presents or cards, because I’d been unemployed for months leading up to the holiday and didn’t have enough money to do Christmas right. Or at all, actually.

YOU WILL NOT GET ME THIS YEAR, CHRISTMAS DEPRESSION!

YOU WILL NOT GET ME THIS YEAR, CHRISTMAS DEPRESSION!

THIS year, I have PLANS. First, I totally got my flu shot. BAM, FLU! Unless some weird flu not covered by the flu shot shows up, I am COVERED. I will not spend four days alternately freezing and sweating and eating and then vomiting toast. MERRY CHRISTMAS HERE’S THE FLU, said 2012.

(Also, this is the first year I’ve gotten a flu shot that I haven’t immediately gotten sick afterward. So either that was a flu shot that didn’t work or I’ve become titanium and IMPERVIOUS TO ILLNESS. I’m going to go with the latter. That’d be nice, right? Because last winter I had the flu and then like three random colds one on top of the other and I think I spent more on Dayquil and Kleenex than I did on anything else. They should have let me write those off on my tax return.)

I also have all the plans for Christmas. Lists have already been made. Some gifts have already been purchased; as soon as I write this, more will be purchased. (Can I just say thank goodness for the interwebs? I hate shopping in stores. I love shopping from the comfort of my couch. THANK YOU, INTERWEBS!) My Christmas card list is made. Addresses all in a little row. I know what I’m getting for everyone; I know how much delight everyone will have upon opening their gifts. I know what I’m baking and I know what I’m crafting. I have a plan for my free time between now and December 25. Decorating and baking and shopping and watching of Christmas movies and wrapping and mailing and totally making up for being an absentee human last Christmas.

I’m also not suffering the bigtime sadness I was last year; this is a little bit situation-based and a little bit pharmaceutical-based (PRESCRIPTION pharmaceuticals, I’m not sitting here taking ‘shrooms and licking the walls or something), but however it came about, I’ll take it. That’s a total Merry Christmas to ME, right there.

And when Christmas day comes, and I have the day off, I can sit back and open presents and turn on the tree lights and wear comfy pajamas and it will not at all be the saddest Christmas ever. I can make my own happiness, and I can share that with the people I love, which (surprise!) increases your own happiness beyond measure.

But until then: lots to do. Only 42 days left! Plotting and planning and scheming take time, my little candy canes! Time to go buy some presents! *whoosh*


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