Apparently nowadays most schools have morning and afternoon announcements that come on over the school’s own TV channel. I guess this is integral to the professional development of aspiring TV anchors everywhere. All we need are more pundits to talk about everything and nothing all at once on CNN, so the elementary school is the best place to start honing their skillz. When I was a kid not too long ago, we still got our announcements over the PA system. Birthdays were announced, lunch menus were shared, and there were usually some reminders about turning in your Mathathon money. Instead of writing a real post, this one is going to be a bit like those announcements. I’m here, I’m alive, and here’s some stuff that has been going on.
Announcements can be fun.
1. We’re still on the road. We were supposed to head home from Atlanta to NC this morning, but I felt gross all night long, likely because I’ve eaten a total 100 calories of actually healthy food in the last week. Also, I’m weaning C, so I’m kind of sad about that and the physical as well as emotional strain has been kind of rough the last few days. So this morning when I woke up super early as per the usual and B suggested that we deserve a day of R&R and that we bum around Atlanta and give Wee Cee a break, I was all over that. We don’t indulge ourselves like this as often as we should so I’m enjoying today.
2. Thank you to everyone who participated in Festivus! It was so much fun and it turned out to be so much more than I could have predicted. I’m already thinking about Festivus 2013 and how to make it even more exciting. Let me know if you have any ideas! Major, MAJOR shout-out to Ashley for helping me with it. I could not have done it on my own, and she was an incredible co-hostess.
3. Christmas was fun but exhausting. I have been in a daze since we left a week ago. We’ve all been off our schedules. One night, my mom watched C while we went out with our friends and spent the night alone at my MIL Sidney’s house. This was the first night we’ve spent apart from C since she was born. It was hard; tears were shed on all our parts, but obviously we all survived. It was a necessary step. Snip snip goes the cord.
4. I’ve been thinking a lot about the blog lately and what parts of me I want it to represent in 2013. Since C was born last March, it kind of went off the rails and I’m not totally loving what it’s become. Don’t worry; I am for sure not going to be abandoning it, but sometimes I get tired of trying to be entertaining all the time. As much as I adore my readers and the people I interact with here, sometimes I feel like I allow myself to write what I think y’all want to hear rather than what I want and need to say. I am going to try to be more authentic in 2013. I may not get Freshly Pressed, but success and high stats are things I just don’t really value as much anymore. I’d rather write things that I’ll read back 10 years from now and remember who I was at the time.
4. I wrote a guest post for Kidz Showz! It’s about Gumby Adventures, one of my favorite shows from when I was a kid. Please read it, as it is way more fun and interesting than this post. While you’re there, subscribe to Kidz Showz because it’s written by Lily and Mooselicker which means it’s super funny and probably super politically incorrect, but in a good Louis CKish way.
But here I am. I think there was something about driving down Park and slowing when I approached Holy Rosary because the extra Christmas Eve traffic and their street parking required it. The gleaming golden doors caught my eye the way they always do when I’m in Memphis. A family made their way through the doors to celebrate the Eucharist this late afternoon on the eve of Christmas.
The mother of the family was dressed in a black wool knee-length frock, its quietness underlying the festive air I had just experienced at Whole Foods, where Shiner was on special. It’s all so East Memphis, in a way that I cannot pinpoint and describe without getting nostalgic about my hometown. At some point, I gave up my proclivity to scorn this place. And the thing is, so did B, which is more miraculous than you could know. We both grew up here and bonded in college over the disdain we felt for the nicety-cloaked Jim Crow mentality and our desire to just get away.
But here we are. We walked up and down Tall Trees this afternoon with C. B recollected his stories of the inhabitants of the homes we passed and we mused over how much the houses cost. And we weren’t joking.
At some point I wanted to move back here. This place is somehow mine, as much as I trash talk it. Enough time has elapsed since I lived here that I see it with fresh eyes – the eyes of a parent who just wants one place. One place.
Today has been draped with sentimentality. It’s overcast and cool and I’m tired from sleeping in beds that aren’t my own. The baby has met people who I adore and I finally feel like I’m able to check off things on her life to-do list. So maybe that’s why I’m wanting this place. Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas and my desire to wrap myself in that East Memphis religion is hitting me right in my heart.
I don’t know. But I do know that it all stems back to the Waiting. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but that’s OK. I’ll let you know when I find it.
Merry Christmas to you and yours. May you all find what you’re looking for this holiday.
So it’s Friday. We made it. If you’re reading this right now, the world didn’t end, and for that, we should all celebrate. Of course, there are still several hours left in the day, so I’m not making any promises. But, look on the bright side: either way you have an excuse to get drunk. And I don’t think I’m alone in saying that all of us could use a drink or eight.
For those of us in the US, the world may not have ended, but it is different. When Festivus began, none of us had ever heard of Sandy Hook Elementary School. Now, the name of that school along with the names of the 26 innocents who died there is seared forever into our hearts and minds. Many of us have spent the week airing our grievances over this tragedy, and Emily and I have struggled with how to continue our Festivus celebrations in light of everything that’s happened.
Ultimately we decided that the show must go on because we could all use a reason to smile, and because we want to celebrate that we are a part of such a wonderful, supportive community of bloggers. I speak for both of us when I say that we were absolutely blown away by the thought and effort you guys put into choosing gifts for each other. Some of them were hilarious, others more heartfelt, but each and every one of them was thoughtful in a way that went above and beyond anything we expected when we first started brainstorming this little holiday celebration.
Alright, I can see you all fidgeting in your seats, so we’ll get to the goods already.
The hints have been dropped, your guesses have been made, and now it’s time to see how wrong you were. Put on your ugly sweaters, have your booze at the ready, and if you would, give me a drum roll, please…
Instead of performing feats of physical strength–although I know all of us would like to see Le Clown wrestle someone while wearing his Festivus gift–we ask you to flex your muscles elsewhere.
The PTA at the school where Sandy Hook Elementary’s surviving students will now attend is asking for snowflakes. They want to give the kids “A White Christmas” when they return to classes after the New Year, and in order to do that, they need a little help. If you’d like to, and if you can get it there in time, make a snowflake of your own and send it to them.
They need all of the snowflakes by January 12, 2013. You can mail them to this address:
Connecticut PTSA 60 Connolly Pkwy, Building 12, Suite 103 Hamden, CT 06514
Now’s it’s time for the mingling and drunken debauchery to begin! Please see The Middlest Sister for your hot chocolate spiked with Bailey’s and Peppermint Schnapps. Mooselicker will be over in the corner waiting to hit on you once you’re drunk. Guap will provide the music, and Ericka’s new penguin, Dave, will provide the entertainment. And, before the evening is through, we hope you’ll all join us outside to watch Alex Rodriguez get run over by a reindeer car.
A very merry holiday to you and yours, and may all of you have the happiest of New Years!
Alternate title – Well, This Should Be Fun: The Christmas Edition
Ashley will be hosting the big Festivus for the ‘Pressed of Us finale here on Friday because I will be a bit indisposed. B and I are gluttons for punishment and we have decided to make the trek home to Memphis for Christmas. In the car. With the baby. The crawling baby.
Now, you will recall that we have done this before. And you will recall that it wasn’t that bad. Scratch that; it wasn’t bad at all. At the time, our Wee Cee was twelve weeks old when we went from our home in North Carolina to Florida to Tennessee and back to North Carolina once again. She slept a lot and was content as long as one of our faces was visible to her when she was awake. She was still on a 100% liquid diet and had like two toys that she was attached to.
Oh, how things have changed.
C is basically a human now which means that she needs to be entertained and she insists on eating real, spillable food and (ugh) moving around. And for some strange reason, staring into her little mirror that we have facing her car seat just doesn’t hold her fascination like it used to. I KNOW. What can I say? She’s no narcissist.
This is what we like to see.
But we’re going, and believe it or not, it’s worth all the toil because I’m looking forward to seeing our family and FINALLY introducing her to besfrinn Cameron, who is also making the trip from SoCal to Memphis.
I am compiling a plan to make all this unmiserable (who am I kidding? it’s not going to be fun, so I’m just shooting for not miserable), and it does not involve plying the baby or myself with Nyquil. Snacks are integral to making this worth it. I kind of hate myself for becoming that parent who just stuffs her child’s face when the going gets rough, but I’m just writing off all the rice treats and tiny apple slices she’ll be getting as extra practice for her fine motor skills. Also, coffee. The good, expensive, flou-frou kind. Not for her. For us! I’m pretty sure that the promise of the good stuff will jet us through the day.
Ever since we decided to make the leap and just go on our Christmas trip, I’ve known that her sleep schedule is going to get really out of whack the instant we pull out of our driveway. At the ends of our driving days, we’ll just let her stay up a bit just so she can get her crawl on. I’ve made my peace with that. She’ll eventually return to her amazingly restful self – fingers crossed, knocking on wood, rain dance performed.
So Internet, I’m coming to you once again asking for any real* tips you might have for traveling with crawlers. I will accept them with open arms.
*Yeah, just so you know, the whole “give them a shot of whiskey” comment has run its course and I hereby ban it. If you want to be funny, come up with something original. Look at me, being all dictatorial.
Before you start reading this, put on a song you love. If you want some suggestions, there are a few selections from my soundtrack I listened to when I wrote this here, here, and here.
I am not a dancer. Me not being a dancer goes hand-in-hand with me being self conscious. I feel like an idiot when I move my body to the music, and I have since my first seventh grade dance. Please please please don’t look at me. I’m that hippo in the corner doing yoga while wearing an Alexander McQueen-inspired getup.
I have felt like an idiot at countless weddings and parties when I started to sway. I’m not going to try to convince you that I look totally stupid because in all likelihood I don’t. It’s all in my head, I know that. But growing up means getting over yourself and just being a human who does things for the sake of doing them and not constantly checking yourself in the mirror.
So today when Wee Cee was in her high chair finishing lunch and The Reeling by Passion Pit came on and I naturally started doing Zumba moves to it because that’s what you do when that song comes on and I don’t trust anyone who suppresses the urge and says that it’s lame to move, well, she lost it and busted a move just as easily as I did. She threw her little fist in the air raise-the-roof style and swayed in her little baby way. We danced and swayed and laughed and moved together.
And then the song ended and I realized I had just danced without even knowing it. The above recounting of my moves are only corroborated by B who is home because the semester is over. How long have I been dancing without even knowing it? Probably since the moment this girl was born and I started getting over myself and started being a more human human. Being a parent means letting go of your lame self you developed the instant you hit puberty and forgot about being a baby. It means having fun because not only does it feel good but it makes your baby smile and it teaches her to embrace this glorious time in her life.
A few weeks ago, I was listening to a news program that discussed the aftermath of Sandy. The specific topic that was addressed was that when disasters and tragedies like Hurricane Sandy occur, there is a huge push to help victims at the beginning. Money is given, food is donated, mental health services are provided to the victims. There is a ton of help provided – all of it appreciated – but it tapers off after awhile, even though the rebuilding of the entire destroyed infrastructure is still on the horizon. The irony is that that rebuilding is by far the most difficult and challenging, but there is less help.
Today we are all praying and thinking of the evil act that was committed yesterday in Connecticut. We will continue to pray and think for awhile. We will think about those families more and more as the holidays get closer, and we’ll reach out to them in whatever ways we can. We’ll voice our outrage and clamor to be heard. We will appreciate what we have and cry because our world is sick and broken. But then, before we know it, it won’t be the first thing on our minds anymore. We will sleep through the night and feel safe.
But we shouldn’t. As a country, as a human race, we gave up our right to sleep through the night the moment those shots were fired. How dare we become complacent now that the most innocent of innocents have been taken from us?
I felt raw yesterday. You likely did too. I cried at the store the way I did on September 11, 2001. I refuse to believe that this is only because I’m a parent now. You don’t have to be a parent to know that our country is broken and that we have run out of excuses to avoid confronting the reasons behind the filthy acts that now occur here on nearly a daily basis.
Do what you need to do to make yourself raw each day. Do not forget that our society is extremely sick this very instant. It is dying. Those shots that rang out yesterday were the death rattle. Let your outrage fuel you to defend what shred of goodness and innocence we have left. Do not believe for one second that time will heal the wounds of December 14, 2012. Those children whose lives were stolen will celebrate no more birthdays, will never fall in love, will never have children of their own. Their parents will never smell them again or hold them in their arms or rock them to sleep. That is forever. It is disgusting, and it’s the state of the world right now.
For all that is good and innocent and right, do not slip into complacency. Let’s rebuild our infrastructure. It will be the hardest thing we will likely ever do, but we owe it to all the life that was lost yesterday to defend what we have left.
I could write an introduction, but who would read it?
No one. Because…..
THIS IS THE PRESENTS POST! Goodies for all! Remember that Ashley and I invite you to write your own Festivus-inspired post on your blog. You can drop hints on who you gifted, muse over who gave you your gift, or air your grievances about anything! Just let me know if you write a post so I can link to it on my Facebook page*.
*And what the what? You haven’t “liked” The Waiting on Facebook yet? Get with it, homes.
Secret Santas will be unveiled right here on Friday, December 21.
Season tickets for the SF Giants and a proper brick pizza oven so Squatch can sample the exquisiteness of his father’s deep-dish pies as they were meant to be.
For my giftee who recently tweeted “I’m closing in on 24 hrs w/o internet porn or TV! My phones running outta gas n I have 2 drink my scotch with no ice!” I have selected VERMONT WHISKEY STONES, ingenious faux ice cubes made of Vermont-milled soapstone and enclosed in an elegant little drawstring bag. Put these stones in the freezer for a few hours and behold, you have cubes that will keep your Scotch cold but won’t dilute it. Brilliant! You just have to remember not to crunch them. Merry Christmas, dude!
My gift to 25toFly is a beautiful ballerina music box. The ballerina is wearing men’s long johns and a hard hat. She’s also holding her degree, while she dances alongside two children.
After seeing his recent Movember video, I thought his outfit could really use an upgrade. Inspired by the Gay Parade, I believe this outfit really “brings out” his magnificence™.
I would get the ambitious writer, D. L. Aiden, a typewriter. A really cool, old style typewriter. A great writer deserves great writing tools. She could really feel like a professional and a hipster at the same time. Any publishing company would drool over something written from a typewriter. She’ll be published in no time! Happy Festivus!
My gift to you is this music video. I hope it brings a smile to your lovely face.
One day, when you are a part of a great adventure with someone who loves and cares deeply for you and for your feelings, I know it will bring a mighty laugh to that same lovely face.
A HUGE closet specially crafted to hold all her shoes, and already filled with even more shoes than she could imagine, from escarpins to boots (and a bunch of sexy naughty shoes, of course).
A cell phone that allows her to take snapshots of her colleague’s around the clock texts, so that she can share with her readers. All of this is packed into rainbow colored paper with a sweet purple knot on the top.
This gift is equal to peace on earth, and is about living a rich life. First, I’m talking about your mental and physical health, and by that I mean access to a lifetime of spa treatments, including but not limited to, therapeutic massage, hot stone therapy, salt glows, body wraps, and foot reflexology. Or, how about a European facial? Don’t worry about child care, because that’s completely covered. If you like, you can have these treatments in the privacy of your own home. After a relaxing massage, you may like to read a book. That’s why this package includes the latest Kindle, downloaded with the books from all your favorite bloggers. Plus, you may download additional authors as you fancy. This is a lifetime guarantee. So, sit back, relax, enjoy!
My festivus gift for Becoming Cliché is the greatest gift of all: A celebrity babysitter for her kids, for a year. The babysitter would be the funniest character ever, and would teach her kids a new language and how to make a great meal out of beef gravy. And! If all goes well, this celebrity babysitter would be ok to trade his kids for hers.
I actually bought him an awesome present. I went ahead and got him a Volkswagen Jetta!!! I know, it’s such a generous gift, but I figured he’s a young and fun guy who would really enjoy this car — so why the heck not?!! I’m pretty sure he’ll like it. It’s fully loaded.
It’s amazing to see how Lilah’s mom grew over the course of a year. I really enjoyed catching up on her post. So, what do you get an atypical Mommy Blogger that still dreams of Happy Hour, but it just so happens she would rather stay at home with the whole fam damily? You bring the booze to her. I’ve decided that since this is an “internet gift”, I have no problem offering up this one in particular. She may not need it, but I think she’ll enjoy it, and that’s what it’s all about. There are plenty of other people out there ready to get her what she needs. The gift – Membership to the Wine of the Month Club. One red and one white, for 12 Months.
To Brother Jon I gift a modest yet fully functional creamery. With this creamery he will have a never ending supply of delicious cheese not only for himself but so that he can give the gift of cheesy goodness to family and friends all year round. He can choose to make small specialized batches of cheese in a variety of flavors – think mozzarella for a mousey quiet gal, or a sharp cheddar to a sharp tongued Aunt, or perhaps for that passion filled go getter a nice white cheddar with flakes of red pepper. The only limitation is that his cheese not be used to make mac and cheese, let’s leave that to the experts at Kraft. I have an ulterior motive for this gift for I would very much like to be supplied with fabulous cheeses with which I will concoct amazing grilled cheese sandwiches, my most favorite of foods.
My Festivus gift for my new pal ChezCasa would be a trip to NYC’s fashion district. A fun-filled excursion with VIP tours to some of the swankiest design houses in the world, including lots of champagne lunches, long afternoons poring over sketches and pithy, inspiring chats with her favorite fashion dudes and divas. Of course, this trip wouldn’t be complete without a trip to MOOD Fabrics, to build a heaping stash for future quilts and fashionable creations. She has all afternoon, an unlimited budget, and shopping pal Tim Gunn to help her “Make it work.” Her vacation ends with an appearance on Project Runway as a guest judge. Damn I give good gifts. I’m so jealous. Did I mention you have to take me along?
This is a one-of-a-kind update of Clip Snark’s mascot, Snarky, hand-made with love to reflect the conflict in the coming zombie apocalypse. Happy Festivus!
My first few times visiting and reading SJ’s blog, I had no idea what I would gift her. I am used to just giving everyone underwear and being done with it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know me yet and giving her underwear outright may not give the right impression. Eventually, I found something perfect for this avid reader and mother of four. I read your post about being a bit down for the Christmas season. I am hoping one of my favorite books will cheer you up. A Cajun Night Before Christmas is a southern version (dialect and all) of this classic Christmas story. Now, I know you may have trouble reading this to your little ones in the proper accent, so here is an aid that you can play while turning the pages. I hope you like it sha!
My gift for Ericka is a penguin named Dave. A live penguin. Dave for Dave Coulier, of course. A penguin because I don’t know if they’re actually as calming as I think they are, but well, everyone can use something to help keep them relaxed and calm! So ta da – a live penguin named Dave. Who doesn’t want a penguin???
I have selected an heirloom for Dork Daddy for this year’s Festivus celebration. This is a rare giant Pez dispenser. It is a Lost In Space B-9 Robot dispenser that is over a foot tall! It has lights, sound and can say, “Danger Will Robinson!” This hard to find classic includes Giant Pez to dispense!
This is the perfect gift for a father who is a dork, loves old school robots and is also a dentist so he can clean his own teeth after eating pure sugar from a piece of plastic.
And if he doesn’t like it, he can bring it up in the Airing of the Grievances.
If I had the means, I would set my friend, El Guapo, up with Doc Brown’s time machine so he could explore the rich musical history of our world and see all the greats in action for real.
But that’s not possible, so here’s a Sonic Screwdriver Programmable TV Remote, because my bud is a classy sci-fi fan like me.
A trip to Hawaii for the family along with an adventure package to go mountain tubing with Kauai backcountry adventures and then go sailing around the islands on Captain Andy’s boat.
I just got back from Colorado last night. I have always wanted to tour some old mining, ghost towns out there. I was racking my brain on what to give Madame Weebles. Considering the Weebs is a self-proclaimed history buff, I am virtually giving her Phillip Varney’s book, “Ghost Towns of Colorado (Pictorial Discover Guides).
And just to add a little icing on the cake, there may be some pictures of dead, hot, mining men in there too!
First my gift is two fold (just because I kinda feel sorry for his lovely wife)
Since Harp (as I call him) does not like to iron, I got this dapper suit from my friend Herb Tarlek for him,,,I think he will look super hot!
And because he’s a great big baby, I am sending along my special Rum Hot Toddy recipe,,,,the best part is for his wife. This will knock him right off his a**,,,so make sure he’s in bed, and I give my blessing for you wifey pooh, to have the rest of the said rum,,have it with Coke, Diet Pepsi, or straight if he’s been a really big baby.
So, my Secret Santa blogger just wrote the cutest story about rescuing a little mouse and making a home for it. It fled back into the wild, so I wanted to make this little memorial picture for her. If this were the real world, I would frame it. Or blow it up to like 6 feet by 8 feet or something. I put the little mouse’s name (Virgil Algernon Bailey) on the bottom!
Jill’s blog reminded me at times of how I felt at her age – having fun, but also a bit lost and not knowing what to do about some things in my life. Like me, I think she hopes someone will come along with all the answers. Jill loves Greece and spent some time there. My gift for her would a day with the goddess Athena. The best message Athena could give her would be to accept and be who you are. It’s funny how your problems sort themselves out once you stop trying to please other people or be something you’re not. You learn to trust your own feelings. Armed with this knowledge and her great sense of humour Jill could take over the world!”
My gift for Eva changed a few times. Thanks to a recent post she did I have decided to give her a time machine. This time machine can be used for her to travel back to 1970 to see Led Zeppelin perform in Iceland. Along with this time machine are backstage passes to meet the band. The backstage passes also act as a taser incase Robert Plant decides to get a little unnecessarily sexually aggressive and Eva chooses not to participate. Personally, I would. How often do you get a rockstar in his prime to feel you up? This was much better than my original idea, Subway gift cards since food is very expensive in Iceland.
Several months ago, I ran across a tweet and immediately re-tweeted it. It read, “Some people are so poor that all they have is money.” The original author was Patrick Meagher, and the blogger who’d retweeted it none other than Daan. So what do you get a man who doesn’t care about things, and already has an entire wall of clay vaginas as well as a beautiful wife and son? Mistletoe? Whirled peas? A clay penis to go with the clay vaginas? Finally after much thinking, I realized there are only a few things people need. One of those things is absolution. It doesn’t have to be religious in nature; just letting go, and recognizing you did the best you could. Absolution. Happy Festivus, Daan!
I would give Jell Jell a case of Ferrero Pocket Coffee Espressos, imported from Italy. These small yet decadent pralines that contain a shot of liquid espresso with a yummy chocolate shell will keep her energy levels up while she tries to keep pace with her two young daughters. Happy Christmas, Jell Jell!
Jamie gets sh*t done. She ferments kombucha and makes stock. She cooks with lots of garlic. And she makes soap. She needs to relax, y’all. It’s hot in Texas. She needs to kick back. In a bed. In the out of doors. My gift for Jamie is a hanging daybed. Who wants a hammock when they can hang a BED on their porch? (If youare lacking in a porch, hell, I will throw one in!) I’d like to throw a case of beer in with my gift and not afancy trying-to-impress-you beer but an it’s-Texas-hot-out-here-so-let’s-pound-some-brews-and-try-out-my-new-bedcase of beer.
The gift I chose for Jiltaroo is a beautiful blue nurse’s scrub top with minnie mouse on the front. I chose it because it is cute and different, much like Jilteroo herself.
She will receive an all expenses paid trip for 4, on a tour of some of her bucket list destinations: London, Ireland, and Scotland (Coronation Street stop included, of course). She will have at her disposal, a private jet for travels, accommodations at the swankiest hotels, a limo stocked with boxed wine and Molson in case she craves some comforts of home, and a driver who will take her anywhere she and her guests wish to go. If she chooses to go over the Christmas break, I’m throwing in tickets to see Les Miserables at Queen’s Theatre.
Cupcakes doused with happy pills seemed like the finest and most appropriate art I could find for the funny gal behind Laments and Lullabies to hang on her wall, blog or otherwise. I think both the giver and receiver would appreciate parts of this conceptual photograph of frosted over-indulgence and temptation by KnDArt. While Sara self-proclaims that it’s hard for her to find her own happy place, it seems like art paves the path for her to find it. And cupcakes just make everything better, if you ask someone our toddlers’ age. I would suggest she just doesn’t hang it in the kids room or someone might give her the side-eye…at least.
A jar of homemade orange and cranberry marmalade, a pair of knitted fingerless gloves and a bunch of lavender from my garden. The reason for my present choice is simple. I have them. Or I have the ability to make them. I like making presents for Christmas and this blogger strikes me as the kind who would appreciate the thought put into a homemade present. The lavender is also beautiful and I see flowers photographed regularly in this blogger’s posts. I am making fingerless gloves because I have yet to work out how to knit a finger all the way to the top… And the cranberry jam, I thought would be quite Christmassy. Also I love any excuse to make jam or to be in the kitchen at all!
I give Laura a Kobo glo e-reader since she has had to say goodbye to her beloved Kindle, and Amazon’s the devil. And it glows, or it should. Also, she needs a more geographically correct Christmas jumper, too. Polar bears and penguins don’t live in the same hemisphere.
A onesie for everyone in the family: a baby elephant for Bean with large floppy ears and a trailing tail to maximise on the cuteness, and (a possibly matching) one for Sara, just light and comfortable enough for some dancing. Z gets to pick from a tiger onesie or a crow onesie. ^_^ And the pups get reindeer horns with Christmas lights attached because it’s Christmas and commercialism hasn’t yet caught on to dog onesies. ;) Ideally, the dogs will lead as the family parades down the street and shows the world the awesomeness of onesies.
For Lily, I have created a gift basket full of noms from Chicagoland. There are Portillo’s hot dogs and cheese fries, Giordano’s deep dish pizza (You’ll probably want to eat those right away. I don’t think they keep.), Garrett’s popcorn, El Ranchero tortilla chips and Fannie May chocolates. I’ll also throw in an Affy Tapple so you’ll have some fruit. It’s a big basket.
I am going to be giving him (it’s a him, right?) Vinderpants as well a wine bottle opener. Vinderpants are underwear for your wine bottle! I actually saw these two years ago, and have been dying to give them to someone. Never had the perfect moment until now. It’s definitely something I would own, and is liquor-related.
Updated: 12/10/12 Okay, I switched up one thing: I bought Dapper Stache drink makers instead of the wine bottle opener. I figured LB would already own that, and the ‘stache theme reflects me a bit more. They are still also getting the Vinderpants.
Tabula Rasa Quantum Time-Line Interface Transducer (TaRa-QTLIT) or TaRa for short – featuring the revolutionary Life Reset Button™ technology, allows you to introduce changes into your time-space continuum. It scans your brainwaves for “your thoughts and feelings about your particular situation and recent history and generates repairs to your time line to match your current needs. It is best used when things are not going to plan and the world has gotten on top of you.” Therefore, TaRa is good for repairing problematic or painful situations in life such as avoiding injuries and accidents, righting wrongdoings and fixing broken hearts.
In other words, it gives you a clean slate in life.
For Mooselicker, I’ve arranged for Phillies pitcher Cole Hamels to run over Alex Rodriguez with his car. I think Mooselicker will really get a special warm and tingly feeling from this.
I got Nevercontrary her next tattoo. But not JUST a tattoo… ANY TATTOO. And not just ANY TATTOO… any tattoo by ANY ARTIST! Think of it as a gift card… for art… on her body. Whenever she decides she decides it’s time for her next tattoo, she can pick whatever artist she wants to do it and I’ll see that it happens. Big, small, one session, many sessions, I’ll see it done. I may even get my next tattoo once she’s up out of the chair. Merry Christmahannakwanzika, Never Contrary… I’m giving you temporary pain for a permanent addition to your bod.
For my gift to Lyssa Pants, I have selected chocolate figurines of Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet (Saint Nicholas and Black Pete). This is the Dutch Santa Claus and his assistant, and the subject of a recent blog entry on that blog. This blogger seems to like chocolate, as well, so it seemed fitting. I also like chocolate, Christmas, and European holiday traditions.
After trolling the Love & Lunchmeat lady’s site, I concluded she and I are dangerously alike, separated only by seashell-species. She is Long Island/Martha Stewart, I am Gulf Coast/Jimmy Buffet. Other than something like the Dial-Less Telephone to limit sensory exchange, the best gift in this case is a trip to the beach. The WARM beach. She and her children would fly LaGuardia to PNS, stay at our pad, we’d babysit while she hit the beach, enjoy some beach trips with both clans, and we’d chill. My original gift involved tequila, coffee and sex, not necessarily in that particular order.
I’m so excited about my Secret Santa gift for Denise – The Mercenary Researcher. Just like me, she loves music. Although I love Jazz; she loves Rock. And we both would like to play Bass Guitar (at least she said she would love to play bass while listening to Gang of Four : Outside the Trains Don’t Run on Time). Her gift is a Fender Roger Waters Precision Bass with a Fender Rumble 150 Combo Amp and bass lessons. Besides, there’s something really hot about female bass players!
Hanukkah/Chanukah/Chanukkah & Christmas Fortune cookies filled with funny things that come out of her kids’ & students’ mouths ~ they will be presented as hybrid strands of garland/ lights that she can string around her tree over a period 72 of hours (by herself, of course). As well, she can have two strands if Christmas and Hanukkah/Chanukah/Chanukkah don’t overlap on a given year. During Hanukkah/Chanukah/Chanukkah, each person in the family can open one cookie per night after the lighting of the Menorah. The same kind of intellectual logic can be applied for the 12 days o’Christmas.
I’m getting Shoes on the Wrong Feet a pair of Skechers Shape Ups for Christmas because I noticed they didn’t have any in their header photo. Shape Ups are the perfect shoe to dress up an outfit as well as make yourself ten feet taller than everyone around you. Plus, they can be used to throw at people who refuse to respect your taste in fanny packs. Not that I would know or anything.
I have always thought that, if a girl has a sense of humor, she can overcome damn near anything. Reading Jen’s blog, I was just blown away by her hilarious outlook on life, love, family and friendship. But I was also touched by a beautiful vulnerability that often shows through her excellent writing. So for those moments when she feels like she needs a little lift, I am gifting her with The Golden Girls: 25th Anniversary Complete Collection. Because when your mood is down, what better way to pick it right back up than with all 7 seasons of the show packed into a collectible replica of Sophia’s purse? Oh, and did I mention the collectible character-themed playing cards?
An all expense paid trip to Ireland with the companions, and decorative boobs, of her choice. I initially wanted to be the wealthy family that finally adopted Maggie, because she is AMAZING and HILARIOUS. However, I am poor and I have too many cats, so I figured knocking one of the big-ticket items off that bucket list would pay appropriate tribute to an awesome lady this holiday season. Added in the decorative boobs of choice, because what better time to get your dream boobs than right before your dream vacation? Merry Christmas Maggie!!
For The Chicken I’m leaving under the tree five baby full-body tatto certificates, redeemable at any tattoo parlour within the continental United States. What better gift could you offer someone who loves the word “F*ck” as much as she does. Now she can parade her kids around town and listen to all the gawkers using that word as they admire her kids’ sleeves. And with five kids, perhaps she can earn a little extra $ on the side by tattooing some endorsements from major toymakers on her children. I figure “LEGO” across the chest should fetch a pretty penny.
I’ve been my typical over-analyzing self and fretted until the last minute over what is the very best thing for my Festivus recipient. I feel like my gift-partner deserves something to reflect how introspective she is, so here goes nothing:
In attempt to find something with meaning to the giver and the recipient, I’ve decided to “sew” a quilt made up of memories my gift-partner has shared onher blog. The overall theme will be the same as their blog (can’t give that away!), but there will be little stories scattered throughout. There will be nine different tales, including: the birthday cake story, the Christmas tree story, the driving-to-work story, and the making-things-with-Mom story. There will also be one blank square, for all the stories yet to come.
My gift to StoryTeller girl is a recently discovered, yet to be read, re-write of the Holy Bible penned by J.R.R Tolkien. Reality and fantasy join together as “David vs. Goliath” becomes “David vs. the Orcs”, the “walls of Jericho” are now “the walls of Minas Tirith” and the “immaculate conception” of Mary is now starring Éowyn as the precious virgin. Become swept away by the magic as Gandalf the Grey takes on the evil Pharisees and Sadducees of Israel, seeking to restore order to the kingdom. With a foreword written by C.S. Lewis, this limited edition Bible will appeal to readers of all ages.
The complete Rosetta Stone collection to learn every language! And a personal cook to enjoy home-cooked meals every night without having to lift a finger.
The amazing blogger I am “buying” for really needs a vacation. But I doubt that is going to happen so I think a bottle of some good vino (which my blogger keeps all to him/herself) and lots and lots of chocolate will have to do! Since I come from Southern California I think See’s Candy is the only way to go at Christmas and I “got” this blogger the Christmas Gold Wreath box, one wonderful pound of deliciousness! Nothing says the holidays like a few extra pounds and a blissful candy coma! By the way, See’s didn’t give me one red dime. I have just loved their candy since I was a little squirt. I am sure there are several pounds on me that can trace their birth to See’s candy, and I don’t regret a minute or a bite of it!
From one retro girl to another – a CafePress apron that has a picture of a 50′s cutie on it and states, “I could exercise but it makes me spill my drink”. I also threw in a set of As Seen On TV dryer balls, because who doesn’t need those? And because I can never pick just one of anything – plus I have an unlimited budget – I paid @Lileks to follow you on Twitter for one year. After that is up to you!
I sped over to read what diaryofghost had written, in hopes that I might stumble across a good gift idea. I noticed a preoccupation of late with mustaches. Of course, I immediately thought of Go Jules Go, who may just be the hot, blond version of the late Bob Barker (What? He’s NOT dead?!). Anyway, the lovely Jules is forever giving away her delightful ‘stache glasses. Any pair of these would be a GREAT for diaryofghost! With any luck, Jules will gift wrap them for a nominal fee. Whew! One less gift to buy.
Normally I would have chosen a Shake Weight because I give Shake Weights to everyone. My grandmother cannot get enough of hers. But I felt the Shake Weight would not be suitable for Fern DeVilliers of The Fur Files unless they made Shake Weights in the shape of cats, which they totally should. See Fern DeVilliers is a fan of cats (“I LOVE cats” – Fern DeVilliers’ blog) so instead I opted for Paul & Joe’s cat-shaped lipstick. The tip looks like a cat’s head until you smear it all over your lips, and then it looks like smushed kitty face. But until that moment, it’s purrfect. Sorry, that pun was awful.
Can’t think of anything The Middlest Sister might like to have more than a big brother. Growing up a middle child, I always wished I had one and who better to have as your big brother than George Clooney? Imagine brother George as a “didn’t get asked to prom” mercy date. Well, maybe Middlest Sister didn’t need a mercy date like Secret Santa did. Still, I can picture him fitting right in with middlest and the other sisters, teasing and pranking each other. And grown up George would make an awesome uncle, always ready to take the kids ’cause he doesn’t have any of his own!
I made this print of a whale with my own two hands. Inspired by the wonderful and far-more-competent-than-I Kerry. The whale represent Kerry because she lives in the ocean, and the paint represents me because I usually air dry. A very Happy Whatever Holiday This is Right Now to you!
Samantha loves romance novels; I love romance novels. Samantha didn’t love 50 Shades of Grey; I didn’t love it either, though as a writer of literary erotica, I can understand its appeal.
As I know a little something about erotica and erotic romance, I thought I’d give her a few books that I’ve enjoyed over the years, books that are both romantic AND sexy, but that are not as graphic as the 50 Shades series. They are contemporary stories, with strong female protagonists, and happy endings all around. They are: “Hot Rain” by Kat Martin, “Blonde Heat” by Susan Johnson, and “Sex, Lies, and Secret Lives” by Thea Divine.
Kristin’s gift basket is wrapped up in crinkly iridescent film with red and blue ribbons (go Patriots!) Nestled inside is a package of fresh, fragrant macaroons that I made myself. These macaroons aren’t the usual pastels; I chose bright cheerful colors – lime green, nectarine orange, turquoise, goldenrod yellow, and fuchsia I love bright colors; they help lift my moods when I feel unwell, and baking makes me feel better about myself when I’m having a hard time. Along with the tasty treats is further inspiration for Kristin’s adventures with waffles: “Waffles (A Nitty Gritty Cookbook)” with a few of my own special waffle recipes and one of my last jars of spicy-tart homemade ginger-lemon marmalade. Bon appetit!
I figured this would be too small. Too cliche. Too obvious. Too likely to fall off your fridge into your bowl of cereal. Too few words. But a beautiful home library like George Lucas’s place–that’s about right. It doesn’t come with a gift receipt, either. If you don’t want it, I’m happy to take it off your hands.
For Wendy: a gift within a gift! On the doorstep would be a puppy, holding a present (by the bow). In the box: a coffee mug. In the coffee mug: a bag of sugar. In the bag of sugar: a Tim Horton’s Gift Card. In the gift card (aka: On the gift card): a year’s supply of Tim Horton’s coffee!
Although you admit to having no knowledge of the Festivus traditions, you have managed, over the years, to do your own ”Annual Airing of the Grievances”, mostly in the month of October. You do a fair amount of kvetching about wind. I guess that’s the only “weather” you folks in Southern California can get worked up about. (In my neck of the woods we have things like extreme Summer heat, Autumn hurricanes, and Winter blizzards— no wonder we look forward to those three days of Spring!— Ah-choo! Or, should I say, “Aaaah! Pollen!)
While those of us living in the Northeast need foul/cold/hot weather gear for all seasons, you, my friend, only need one thing: A wind suit. I’ve chosen one in navy and white, but it’s got some nice lime green piping— which I think gives it a feminine touch! While shopping for your gift, it occurred to me that no Santa Ana wind suit would be complete without headgear. With the protection of your skin, hair, and eyes in mind, I have also chosen for you a lovely netted beekeeper’s hat!
I am knee-deep in presents today. I’m laying them all out nice and neatly under our Festivus pole for the big exchange on Friday. So today my practically-Aunt Ellen (she’s actually besfrinn Cameron’s aunt but who’s splitting hairs?) is here to entertain you with a little holiday PSA. Enjoy and I’ll see you Friday! -Emily
Once again it is the festive time of the year. There will be conviviality. There will be good cheer. For the health and well-being not only of yourselves, the parents, but for the safety of your young ones—Please Do Not Drink and Drive. The consequences of doing so could be severe and everlasting.
I myself have followed this wise maxim for years. It is only recently, however, that I have discovered an excellent unintended consequence of a strict adherence to this regime. My children are older now, and they often have to be ferried to and from various events at later and later times of day—or I suppose I should say night. And guess what? I don’t have to do said ferrying because I don’t drink and drive.
Herewith I offer for your delectation some real life examples. Quaff your preferred alcoholic beverage as you peruse.
Situation #1
Time: sometime after 6 pm
Son: Mom, may I spend the night with Andrew?
Mom: Sure! His mom will have to pick you up, though. I’ve had a glass of wine, and Daddy isn’t home yet.
Son: OK.
This exchange exemplifies with laser-like precision how this premise operates in the field.
Situation #2
Time: sometime after 6 pm
Daughter: Mommy, will you take me and Zoe (sic) to the store for ice cream?
Mommy: Nope. I just got through having a glass of wine with dinner. Maybe tomorrow.
Daughter: Rats! Okaay…
This episode earns double points as children were saved from their unhealthy snack urges!
Situation #3
Time: Approximately 6 pm
Mom: Son, what time will the wrestling match end?
Son: I dunno. Around 8.45 or 9 pm, I am guessing.
Mom: Well, you’ll need to find your own ride home unless you want to wait for Daddy to get out of his meeting. I’ll be putting your sister to bed, and I know I will be having a glass of wine then.
Score triple points for this encounter. Maternal bedtime duties remain sacrosanct while affording an adolescent the opportunity to take responsibility for his own life!
Free at last! Free at last! After all those long years of mommy taxi duties, I am free at last!
I promise this approach can work for you too. It will not be effective, however, to suddenly develop this good driving habit when your child reaches the cynical age of 9 or 10. No. It must be drilled into him from a very early age that Mommy (Sorry, dads. You’re on your own) does not drink and drive. This way your calm statement that you cannot drive them to or fro will be accepted as calmly as it was stated. For so many reasons, I urge you now not to drink and drive.
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About Ellen: Ellen is a total bookworm and bibliophile completing her first semester of library school in the great state of North Carolina. If you live in or near NC, please check out the North Carolina Literary Map which has all kinds of links and info all about the literary life of the state. For those of you wondering whether you can trust the advice she offers in this blog post, it is based on 21 years and counting in the trenches!
Ashley and I have been receiving so many fantastic Festivus gifts to dole out amongst you all that we are fighting the urge just to keep them all to ourselves. Really! They’re great! Huge props to everyone who has already sent in their gifts.
But we want to make sure EVERYONE gets a present. This is an issue near and dear to me, as I was the one kid in sixth grade whose Secret Santa forgot to bring her present the day of the party. Yeah, the teacher felt pity on me and so I got a handful of Starlight Mints and a couple old red pens she wasn’t using anymore.
And although candy is nothing to sniff at around the holidays, c’mon, we can do better. Please don’t make Ashley and me have to be the ones bearing sad to your giftee come Festivus Party Day. We both have babies so we’d probably just distribute old burp clothes with Prada written in Sharpie on them, and call them scarves.
We need gifts by tomorrow: Monday, December 10th. If you need some extra time, email us at pressedivus@yahoo.com and let us know. We can work with you if you need a little help. We’re benevolent and gracious like that.
I can tolerate a lot. I’m learning to get over it when I don’t get around to the nineteenth vacuum cleaning of the day. (C’s rice cake granules can suck it for all I care.) I’ve blocked out the ridiculousness that abounds on Facebook during election season by unsubscribing to people. I’m well on my way to letting it go if I don’t get to shower until 1PM, if at all.
But I do not, under any circumstance, have any patience whatsoever for people who text while they drive. I’m airing my grievances. Hold on, kiddos.
Texting while driving is one of the most dangerous, inane functions of the modern age. Not only do people insist on proliferating typos all over social media while they’re in the safety of their stationary homes, but they also feel as though their stupid messages must be transmitted while they are hurtling through space in their vehicles. I can’t even. People will risk their lives typing a message about Burger King to someone they will see 10 minutes later. And we wonder if our society is in trouble.
Let’s break this down.
Your car is one of the most expensive things you own. Even if it’s not a super nice car, it was a sizable investment, kind of like attending graduate school. Graduate school often only takes one or two years, and the investment is roughly on par with that of a moderately-priced used Toyota. I can speak to this because I’m paying off both. So basically, texting while driving is the rough equivalent of drinking heavily and not preparing at all before your degree-conference exams. You may be OK, but the risk of completely destroying your car / jeopardizing all your work is upped dramatically when you text and/or drink heavily the night before your exams. Both your car and your degree will be negatively affected by you typing LOL, LMFAO, OMW, and “Asses! That’s so cute!”*
*A real Autocorrect misstep I made. Just ask Becoming Cliche.
Maybe you are made of money and the expense of destroying your car in order to text a bunch of wrongly autocorrected garbage is no big thing. Texting while driving still remains the most dangerous thing I can wrap my head around. If you are so important that you have to text someone about your comings and goings while behind the wheel, then why are you driving yourself? If you were truly as useful to our society as your progressive opinions on Kelly Clarkson and LipSmackers suggest, you’d have a chauffeur. The president may put hits on people for all I know, but he’s never going to off anyone by driving in to them.
People in my town are always driving around and texting even though it’s been outlawed here. Lawmakers that they put in place have spent time authoring and passing legislation that hopes to save them from their partially-evolved selves, and yet they still insist on texting, especially when they’re breezing through a 28 lane intersection whose light is out. The way thing works, too, is that these people will end up harming pedestrians and other law-abiding drivers before they damage their own car. If we’ve learned anything from the stats on drunk driving, it’s that the worst offenders are often the ones who come out unscathed.
I had intended to write a light post on how ridiculous it is that we have to beg people to refrain from texting while they’re driving, but I’ve worked myself into such a tizzy that I don’t want to mince words. If you habitually use your phone while you’re behind the wheel, get a grip on reality and realize that whatever earth-shattering message you need to send can wait. Make it a habit during the holiday season to quit texting so that we can all have a safer 2013.
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Remember that you have until Monday, Dec. 10 to get your Secret Santa presents in to Ashley and me at pressedivus@yahoo.com. Let me know if you write a Festivus post so I can share it on my Facebook page!
