thought for the day.

my horoscope lied to me. it told me I was going to have a romantic weekend. I did not.

Christmas For Deeze

There are several things I consider necessities before my Christmas festivities can begin. These things go beyond my jingle bell necklaces, my UNC santa hat and my natural good cheer. These are things that are important and I feel would allow for any one of you to have an even more exceptional Christmas season.

a. Mistletoe. Who doesn’t love mistletoe?! It’s romantic in every form. Did you know the name Mistletoe was originally applied to a poisonous plant that causes gastrointestinal problems including stomach pain and diarrhea…but, you should not have fear because Mistletoe is seen as a representation of “divine male essence” (ie romance and fertility), thereby making it a necessity for all Christmas miracles. I really was speaking the truth when I hollered the other day at work that it really is a man’s world after all (and a small world at that but I won’t say anymore because this conversation could quickly get out of hand). Next time I’m standing under the mistletoe, when my Christmas miracle goes in for the kiss, I will be sure to say no thank you sir and warn him of the serious implications mistletoe could cause to his body, and mine.

b. Victorian Christmas Angels. I have a couple of these sweet treasures. I found them at a local discount shop a few years back and purchased one for me and one for mom. I was so excited to give my mom her Victorian Christmas Angel and all of my Christmas dreams were crushed when she said “that is ugly.” Since I don’t believe that Christmas has to be just the season of giving, I took it back. Christmas is the season of giving and taking, Indian style if need be. I now have two Victorian Christmas Angels that I set out every year. And I love them. They are delicate and satiny and have tiny hands and feet, just like me! And yes, they are ugly. But like a good mother, I love them anyway. Ugly or not.

c. Christmas Frog. Speaking of ugly…I know all you haters find my Christmas frog atrocious. My brother and I had a big ole fight the minute he found out I was storing this beauty in a box at his house (background is that when I moved back in with my parents, he stored a lot of things on my behalf at his house, including my Christmas Frog). I first laid eyes upon her the same time I discovered my Victorian Christmas Angels. I had to have her. I mean, I completely fell in love with her glass head, her velvet cloak. She is a bit wounded with a crack in her right brow, but she has a nice home now and frankly, it’s not Christmas to me without my Christmas frog. She is always the first decoration I put up, and the last I take down. She stands watch over my snow babies throughout the Christmas holiday. Pete hates her. Everyone hates her. But as Jason Mraz says, there is beauty in the ugly.

d. Lights. Lots and lots of tacky, tacky lights. Preferably colorful lights. Not for me, but for you. These are imperative to my Christmas season because what kind of person would I be if I didn’t drive around and laugh and poke fun at all the Christmas lights strewn about yards and houses. The only thing better than tacky Christmas lights is when they are accompanied by inflatable snow globes and Santa’s Elves. Secretly, my kid sister LOVES these things but thank the good Lord my parents refuse. She does have a Christmas train she likes to put out but this year it was a no go. I will pose this question about the train to you: what makes a Christmas train different from a regular train? Answer: lots and lots of tacky, colored lights. I know, I know. colored lights cajole memories from Christmases past for many. And while that is sweet and all, and I appreciate your memories, nothing says Christmas to me more than the Griswolds.

e. An awesome Christmas sweater. I have only been into seasonal sweaters for about 3 years now but man, I don’t know how I survived my Christmases past without one! These bad boys go for good money on the internet and I can see why. This one, that I call The Winner (for the many awards it has won) comes complete with a Christmas chicken, tassels and a fuzzy gold jingle bell. Don’t be mistaken – while The Winner appears to be cozy and smart, it is in fact, not a good idea to wear often. The fuzzy jingle bell causes a lot of pain as you take the sweater off over your head. It leaves behind remnants of itself in the form of a gash down your forehead for all the world to see. Over the years, I’ve become more accustomed to the weird stares and responses I get when I tell people why I have such an unsightly gash upon my head. This year I have a dilemma though. I have a new Christmas sweater that lights up. The Winner may need to rest its weary bell because my light up sweater is aching to be plugged in! (and yes, that is what she said).

The Girl With The Cat

I've got lots of things to tell you about, but in the meantime, I'm supplying you all with a story from my other blog.The Toolshed is a blog about my dating life and while it is not true to time, the stories are real and sadly, they are never ending. You should SEE my post it note on dbags I still need to blog about. (ie if you and I have been on a date, and you behaved badly in any way, shape or form, there is a good chance you are on here. But dates are not accurate and no names are mentioned) At any rate, enjoy this little diddy.


Monday, October 18, 2010

you will pay for your own drink specials.
I know I’ve got a lot of ‘splainin to do about my absence…but spare me the harpin’. I have a long list of less than men to tell you about, but Friday’s experience may take the cake in the world of dbags. Wait, I’ve said that before. so, if I’m being honest, and I am, this one doesn’t really take the cake but it is DEFINITELY a slice out of the old tool shed. Where they stop, no one knows.

I had been introduced to this kid whom I affectionately dubbed Drink Specials. This is a name he brought on himself because the first two attempts he made to hang out with me included meeting up at particular places “with great drink specials.” Friday night, I agreed to meet him out at Mellow Mushroom. He suggested dinner and though I don’t love Mellow, since he had been persistent, and was cute, I decided to go. Only, I probably should have decided not to go. We’re having dinner and he asks to be reminded of where I work. I tell him and he asks “oh, do you know Sara blah blah blah.” “well,” I reply, “I don’t know her but I know of her. I dated her ex.” He says “ohhhh you dated him??? Well, we grew up together and my roommate dated her.” So, I realize what a fantastic night this is going to be since if he grew up with her, and she dated his roommate, then they’re probably as crazy as her reputation makes her out to be. Approximately 20 minutes after we sit down FOR THE DINNER HE INVITED ME TO, his friends show up. Yes, 4 or 5 of them at this point show up, come say hey, we didn’t know you’d be here and then leave to go to the bar…while telling me he is so sorry, he didn’t know they would be there (right), they start sending shots over. After shot 2, but before 3 and 4 arrived, I confessed I wasn’t going to be able to do anymore shots. I mean, it was only 9p and these guys were apparently going balls to the wall at the Mellow Mushroom. About this time, I start feeling semi badly – granted, I had only had to eat that day 1 large mashed potato and gravy, 1 large mac and cheese and 1 biscuit from the KFC, two glasses of wine, 1 pizza from the Mushroom and 2 shots. It’s no wonder I felt like 1 million bucks. The waitress comes and I blame her for what happens next. She asks, as most waitresses do but should not, how did we want the ticket. Clearly the tightwad, Drink Specials tells her she can put it on one ticket and WE WILL SPLIT IT! um, excuse me? if I am paying for my own dinner, I don’t want to do it at the Mellow Mushroom! I don’t even love that place! After dinner, we move over to the bar to hang out with his homies who are clearly WAITING on us to come. I tell him his friends all look familiar and then I realize why. At the epicenter of his friend group was my across the hall neighbor. The same neighbor who had an uber white trashy fight with his live in girlfriend at 6a that resulted in her moving out ON THE SPOT and the entire building be awakened. The same neighbor who hosts porch parties every weekend that begin at sun up and end well after sun down. Every single one of these guys has been on the porch on more than one occasion and every single one of them has spoken to me through the screen (I oft times sit on my porch and talk to my cat whilst in my pajamas and glasses). After a funny hey this is awkward, I didn’t know you ever left the porch convo in which all the guys said to me at different times “hey, you’re the girl with the cat!”, I had to race to the bathroom where I spent the next 35 minutes hating my own guts. I received two txts from Drink Specials asking where I was. I returned, everyone was wasted, and I knew it was time for me to go home. At 11 o’clock, I left the Mellow Mushroom. All I could think about was how excited I was to be putting on my pajamas and hanging out with my cat. I was exactly the girl they thought me to be. And that is a-ok with me. And Drink Specials? Well, let’s just say he’s back in the shed, right where he belongs.

Have Yourself a Merdeezy Little Christmas

Some of these bad boys are going out in the mail today (not blurry versions of course). Per my previous post, I decided that just because I haven't had anything like a wedding or a baby happen in the past year doesn't mean I can't send out some Christmas cheer. So, here you have it. A selection of some of my best portraiture from the past year. oh, and it's signed by Republican Pete so it's definitely fridge material.

Something Old, Something New

Every wedding season you hear it: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Well, do I have JUST the find for you!

A designer wedding dress and a custom made veil.

Just in case you miss it during the auction, here are some pics. Too bad this isn't art class. i'd prob get an A. Or English class as I find the description first-rate.

A Glimpse At the Deezy Fam

Contemporary Red Christmas Card

Make a statement with Shutterfly Christmas photo cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Life Lessons for the Boob Tube

Tomorrow in my mailbox will arrive my latest Netflix. It is a movie I was never allowed to see, and if I'm being honest, I know good and well I wouldn't be allowed to see even now if I were still living with my old roommates. I can barely contain my excitement that with the arrival of this movie, surely I will finally become a real adult (since only adults are allowed to watch these types of movies). My life will never be the same once I watch Indecent Proposal. I have to admit, I feel quite scandalous knowing this movie is what I will be watching tomorrow (and I bet there won't be anything for me to make fun of, what with it being from 1993 and all). My mom says she doesn't remember forbidding me from watching it, but it is rated R for sexuality and language, so it's no wonder it was forbidden fruit. So at 28, I am finally becoming real.

There were other nuggets of forbidden fruit on the tv. So many in fact it's a wonder we had a tube at all. Granted, we never really had cable - my roommates always felt like if we were bored, we'd be better suited to read a book. But when we were allowed to watch tv (and this never happened without first having to run around the house 3 or 4 times), we certainly weren't allowed to watch what the other kids were watching.

Take Full House for instance. Danny Tanner had nothing on my mama's parenting skills. I'm actually surprised the reason we weren't allowed to watch it had nothing to do with the fact that it was a little strange that Uncle Joey and Uncle Jesse had absolutely no problem living with a single dad and his 3 daughters (and let's not forget weirdo Kimmy Gibbler next door who never seemed to have parents at all). Nope. The reason we weren't allowed to watch this family show is because all three of the daughters were "extremely sassy." My mom didn't want us growing up thinking that was an acceptable way to be. Sooo, while I understand the intent, guess who doesn't have three sassy children. It's definitely not my mom so you probably shouldn't waste your guess on her.

Another show that was forbidden was Hey Dude on Nickelodeon. That is, when we actually had Nickelodeon. If you remember, this was a show about a group of people who lived on a dude ranch, one of them being Ben Stiller's future wife, Marsha Marsha Marsha. Wait, now that I think about it, it was sort of like a commune so maybe that's why we weren't allowed to watch it. Everyone knows people who live in communes are weird with a capital w. (but that kid Ted on the show? no way he was weird. he was too smokin' hot to be weird). Everyone at this dude ranch was really smart, so smart that they knew more than any of the adults who ran the dude ranch. And because of this, we weren't allowed to watch it. Another factoid everyone knows is that no way do kids know more than their parents. Good thing mom didn't let us watch Hey Dude. Otherwise we three might be even more convinced we know more than our parents. The only thing that would make it worse would be if we all lived on a commune. A bunch of know it alls packed into a commune. Yeah, this was a good choice to be forbidden fruit, I'd say.

I have never seen an episode of The Simpsons. Whenever I try to watch That 70's Show while at my roommates' house, one roommate in particular will come into the room and if she can't find the remote to turn it off, she will stand in front of it and talk to you so you have no idea what is happening. Only, the last time I told her I couldn't see what was happening, she told me "they're sitting in a circle, smoking pot and making fun of their parents. You don't need to watch it. That isn't a good way to be." I'm just trying to figure out how she knows what they are doing every single time it comes on tv.

Sometimes, a show won't be forbidden, but you're guaranteed to get some Life Lessons while watching it, so it would probably be better if it were just on the forbidden list. The life lessons usually pertain to sex and that can just get weird depending on who is in the room with you when your parents start doling out sex life lessons all because of some rando show that happens to be on the tube. Basically, I don't recommend watching Jerry Springer. Ever. Why it was never on the forbidden fruit list, we'll never know. Probably because it was the perfect opportunity for my roommates to give us life lessons. So, on that note, I hope my mom isn't reading this. Otherwise she'll know I'm watching Indecent Proposal tomorrow night. And if there is one thing I know at age 28, is that I am never too far away for life lessons for the boob tube.