Worst Party: The one that never happened. We really need to have more in the coming year.
Best Dinner: Prime rib with all the trimmings.
Worst Dinner: Fish sticks and tater tots...
~ I am cookied, chocolated, and fudged out. Right now, I don't care if I ever see another sugary treat in my entire life.
Did I make New Year's resolutions last year? I'm sure I did, but somehow, in the move from Wordpress to Blogger, I lost all of the posts I wrote between December 30 and May 5 of 2006.
Egads! but I'm tired. No, that's not a strong enough word. Exhausted? No. How about fatigued? No. Here it is: I'm absolutely freakin' brain dead and fatally worn out.
When I look back on the Christmases of my past, it's clear to see that my memories are not of what I received as gifts, but of my family and how we spent those times together.
I'm with RW, from whom I took this meme (he got it from Tug). Most memes are nothing more than exercises in narcissism (not that's always a bad thing), but once in a while a good one comes along. This one is too hard for the Barbie doll types who type little hearts and roses around their online names, so I don't expect to see it spreading all over the web. If you want to use it (I'm not tagging people anymore), just let me know so that I can come read your responses...
Don't tell me that I can't do something, damn it. Even if you are the frickin' Universe, or God, or Fate, or whatever the hell you are.
Bubble Lights. My parents never got any because they said they were too expensive, but my grandparents' had them. What kid in the 50s didn't sit on the floor staring at them? Weren't they magical??
Ribbon Candy. There were always bowls of these treats scattered around the house. I never really liked hard candy, but this stuff was different for some reason.
California Sampler. Seems like someone always sent us one of these trays. Filled with fruit, nuts and dates, it always looked good, but it usually went bad before everything was eaten.
Chocolate Balls. I used to like helping my mom to dip the condensed milk, powdered sugar and walnut balls into the chocolate, but nowadays I wonder at how safe it was to consume that much paraffin...
Flocked Tree. One year my dad sprung for one of these and I thought it was the most beautiful, magical tree in the world. I'd love to get another one year.
Garlands. Our tree, as well as our house, always got draped with these monstrosities. The doorway between the living and dining rooms got decorated with it, on which my mom hung the Christmas cards we received.
Plastic Wreath. I think there was one of these in every window of my grandparents' house.
Red Mesh Stockings. "Back in the day" we didn't have fancy, velvet and brocade stockings, we had these red mesh jobs. And we never got watches, gift cards, or jewelry. They were filled with fruit and candy.
Log Nut Bowl. I'm getting one of these next year because they're the most recognizable Christmas item in my memory. I can still see my dad sitting there with his. In fact, I still have his set of silver nutcracker and picks in a little wooden box with decorative clasp. It's one of my prized possessions.
Chocolate Covered Cherries. Oh, yeah... In the flimsy box. An American tradition.
It has come to my attention that some of my favorite bloggers have fallen asleep at the keys. Yeah, I'm talking about YOU. What's wrong with you guys? Don't you know that you're supposed to inspire and stimulate me? Don't you know that your prime function on the web is to entertain me?
I just came across a show on which Morgan Freeman was interviewed by Rachel Ray (yeah, I know...).
Half-a-million people in Oklahoma are without lights and heat. Our wiring is all underground, so we're fine (plus, we're not customers of OG & E), but Lynette's parents, in Tulsa, were hit, as well as friends in the Oklahoma City area. Authorities say it could take a week or more to get things back to normal. Mostly, I worry about the elderly and the people who have no place to call home.
I hope you caught History Rocks: the 60s last night on the History Channel. Man, talk about the best documentary about that tumultuous decade... Pulling no punches and never resorting to cliché, it covers the 60s using the music as the soundtrack in a way that I've never seen before. The way it was back then...
I woke up this morning and looked out the window to find a crystal wonderland. The ice storm that's moving across the country has resulted in power outages, closures of schools and businesses, and hundreds of traffic accidents; it feels selfish and shallow to write about how beautiful it is.
God, I hate American tourists. Especially when they get their own show on television and think they're so clever, so cool, so funny.
Last night Bravo brought together two "losers" from each of the past three seasons of Top Chef for a holiday competition that promised $20,000 to the one who could knock the stockings off of the judges and their world-class chef friends. It wasn't an easy challenge. Three courses head-to-head and after each course two competitors were told to "Pack your knives and go," leaving their following courses to go uneaten by those whom they wished to impress.
Yesterday was Krampus Day in Austria and Germany, a street "celebration" I am looking forward to experiencing once we're domiciled in Vienna.
Jump on this roller coaster
I was having a rather ordinary dream, something to do with being outside, walking. I passed two men who were talking and who didn't notice me. One had a dog with one of those white cone collars on it and I overheard him say to the other man, "She bit him with a chockle-chuck." The weirdness of the phrase woke me up.
The tree is trimmed...
The halls are decked...
And the stockings are hung on the mantle.
After enjoying a dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers, we noticed that it had started to snow. The first snow! Then, turning around the channels we found that "White Christmas" was on, so we watched that while lying on the bed still keeping one eye on the snow outside.
Because I'm fat, sated and lazy after the feast, I'm answering a meme I got from Kelly, who didn't specifically tag me but rather tossed out an open invitation. It's "Eight Things" of various sorts...
There is a man I know who lives in California. He detests computers and has never had an email address. He's one of the sweetest people you'd ever want to meet and is incredibly spiritual, basically an old hippie, now 70 years of age. He somehow glommed onto me and now he calls me every single day of the week. And he'll talk on and on for one or two hours. The same things over and over again. And he's growing increasingly demanding. He asked me to build him a website to sell a CD he made, and I agreed and charged him a nominal fee. VERY nominal. Like, RIDICULOUSLY nominal. Nearly FREE...
Excuse my French, but, my so-called life! When it rains, it pours. It's either feast or famine with me. Just when I was about to give up the ghost because I was suddenly struck as poor as a church mouse and began beating the pavement to get a real job, I was hit up-side the head with a mountain of work. I've been as busy as a one-armed paperhanger with a number of paying jobs, for which I'm jumping for joy. Most of these have to do with web design, but one is musical, although I haven't had the time of day to dedicate myself to it. I spent the weekend working at a feverish pace on one site and I've burned the candle at both ends, setting in as soon as my feet hit the floor and working into the wee hours, say, 4:30am. Yesterday, I got out of the wrong side of the bed and was really grumpy because the phone rang off the hook all day. You all know how I love the phone...
I've complained for nearly three years about the ongoing road construction by our house. They're now getting close to the end, I think, because they're paving it. That sounds nice, but the noise that has been invading our lives for the past week is finally driving me nuts.![]() |
| Damn. Wish I hadn't cut up this pic. Before, you could see the Doobies standing off to the left. How could I know they were going to be famous?? |