Ho Ho Ho and All That

December 23, 2009

I haven’t done a meme in, oh, about 2 years, but this one actually looked kind of fun. So here you have it. (I yanked this from Swistle, by the way.)

Eggnog or hot chocolate? I have never, not once, tried Eggnog and one of my life goals is to never, not once, try Eggnog. Cleatus and the kids have been trying to think of ways to get some Eggnog in my mouth without me knowing it’s coming (like dripping it in there while I’m asleep or some shit), but they will not succeed. So, I guess the short answer to the question is: Hot Chocolate, please, with marshmallows.

Does Santa wrap the presents or leave them open under the tree? Santa wraps them in special Santa only paper. Some years we have the kids pick out the special Santa paper and they leave it under the tree for him to use, but other years I decide that wrapping everything after they are in bed is too much work and I buy paper myself and slowly wrap the gifts throughout the month of December.

Colored lights on a tree or white? White on my tree, colored on the kids’ tree. Next year, though, I am hoping to get a white tree with colored lights, but the chance of me convincing Cleatus of that is about zero.

Do you hang mistletoe? Nope. I’ve never even been kissed under mistletoe. How sad!

When do you put your decorations up? Much to Cleatus’s dismay, we usually put everything up the week before Thanksgiving. I like Christmas, okay?

What is your favorite holiday dish? The side dishes. All of them. Keep your ham, give me all the carbs and veggies and cheese filled side dishes.

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? We open gifts from our extended family on Christmas Eve, but everything from us and Santa gets opened Christmas morning. Except for the one present I talk Cleatus into letting the kids open the week before Christmas. I’m such a cool mom.

How do you decorate your Christmas tree? My tree is pretty boring, covered in brown, gold, and maroon balls, some bows, and a couple of “fancy” decorations. By fancy, I mean something that was purchased as a single ornament, instead of in a value pack of 12. I usually buy the fancy ornaments during the big Target clearance sale after Christmas. The kids’ tree is a mish-mash of homemade crap treasures and ugly but colorful ornaments they love.

Snow: love it or hate it? I love it, but only when it’s clean. I don’t like the brown, muddy slush crap.

Can you ice skate? Are you kidding me?

What is your favorite holiday dessert? That’s tough. I don’t think I have a favorite. I love these butter cookies (mm, butter) and these little buttons are always fun to pop in my mouth every effing time I walk through the kitchen.

What is your favorite holiday tradition? I’d like to say it’s reading a nice, wholesome Christmas story by the fireplace every evening while sipping hot cocoa before bed, but we don’t actually do that, so I guess opening my presents. Sorry, but I’m still a kid at heart when it comes to Christmas. Opening presents? Best part.

Candy canes: yum or yuck? Eh. Whatever. I don’t eat them, but they aren’t gross.

Favorite Christmas show? Probably Rudolph. I like Rudolph.

Well, that was fun. And now I’m officially in the Christmas spirit (by which I mean, ready to open gifts)! Hope y’all have a great holiday filled with cookies and lots of boxes full of fun things to unwrap!

Oh, and don’t step in any reindeer poo.

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Trying My Best To Bring The Hate

December 12, 2009

My cat is currently outside hanging off the window screen and meowing to be let in. Rather than remove myself from underneath my laptop and let the poor frozen kitty inside, I decided to blog. It’s been awhile, yo.

I think the reason for the blogging is partially Cleatus’s fault. Remember when I used to bitch and complain about him all the effing time? Man, those were the days. He truly has been like some kind of Super Husband lately. HE EVEN BOUGHT ME A NIKON D90 FOR CHRISTMAS. And let me have it two weeks ago because the sound of my whining was about to puncture his ear drum because he loves me so much. Seriously. Super Husband.

However! This morning I woke up on the grumpy side and DO YOU KNOW WHAT, INTERNET? I feel like bitching about Cleatus. Do you know what he did? He came home from work after a 12 hour shift and opened the little cubby/drawer thing where he keeps his keys and wallet and other crap and he put his wallet inside BUT LEFT HIS KEYS SITTING ON TOP OF THE SHELF and! HE LEFT THE CUBBY/DRAWER OPEN. Clearly he doesn’t deserve to live. If he weren’t in bed sleeping right this minute, I’d go in there and fart on his pillow. I guess I’ll just have to settle for farting on his toothbrush.

(Notice how the things I am bitching about now are really only minor inconveniences and I even go ahead and give him credit for the 12 hour work shift? What the hell happened to me? Where did my anger go? I want it back.)

Oh! One more rant (not about Cleatus though, something is wrong with meeeeee!). I listed my old camera on Craigslist, because you know, Cleatus is awesome and super and he bought me a new one. So, some guy was interested in one of the lenses that I had listed and he asked me to come to his tattoo shop(!) to show it to him. Now, I have nothing against tattoos. You go ahead and cover your entire face with a big tweety bird tattoo, see if I care. It’s just…tattoo shops (parlors? Are they called tattoo parlors?) are not my place. I don’t belong, is what I’m saying. I’m a 27-going-on-80 year old frumpy mom who writes a blog, for fuck’s sake. I was feeling out of place before I even got out of the safety of my car.

Anyway, long story short, I stood in there while he bashed my lens around and generally acted like he had never seen a camera lens before in his life (newsflash: you should be GENTLE with them. They are fragile and made of glass and oh my fuck, dude, quit trying to jam it on your camera the wrong way.) and soaked up the smell of incense and biker dude into my clothing. I really hope that smell comes out, because like I said before: frumpy mom with a blog. I do not need to smell like I ride a Harley and smoke dope, thank you.

(I apologize for all the stereotyping in the above paragraph. He just FIT THE STEREOTYPE, OKAY?)

And, all that to say, he didn’t even buy the lens, WHICH I KNEW HE WOULDN’T, because he needed a lens for taking pictures of tattoos, which would be difficult with the 70-300 lens I had for sale. DUH.

Oh, and did I mention that I got the Nikon D90 yet? Squeeeee!