Monday, December 31, 2007

Hibernating Animals on New Year's Eve

This is going to sound All Kinds of Wrong to many of you, but you'll just have to have some Pez candies from your new Santa Pez dispenser, and deal with it.

I am purposefully doing absolutely nothing tonight. Nothing, nothing, nothing. NU-HU-THAAAAAAANG! (Except having some wine...)

As my staunchly loyal, and fabulous friends will confirm: Gretta No Likey New Year's Eve.

The past two years have been abysmal failures at Forced Festivities, and both nights ended with me either stomping away, in the snow, drunk and muttering about stupid f*&king New Year's; or driving away (verrrrrrrrrry bad, very bad), drunk and muttering about stupid f*&king New Year's, before the ball even dropped.

I wanted this year to be different, as the above-mentioned is fun for no one. Not for the drunk mutterer. And not for the drunk mutterer's friends, who ended up stranded at a James Bond-themed party, dressed to kill with no ride home.

With all the whirlwind holiday activities, I decided to celebrate NYE in my own way this year.

And cornbread. That's right. I'm kind of cooking.
Not sure if it counts as cooking, if I call my mom (yet again) to ask her how to cook a salmon filet. She says "Um, well, what does it say on the package?" And I'm all "there aren't any instructions on the package". And she's like "really?" And I'm turning the package over to where the cooking instructions are, and saying "ohhhh, yeah. 375 for 14-18 minutes."

This is why I don't cook. Too embarrassing.

So I'm enjoying some fab California wine, cajun salmon and cornbread, and will finish with whatever chocolate is left from my Christmas stocking.

All that pressure of getting to the party/bar/whatever, finding a cab, finding someone to smooch, then finding another cab, nursing hangover, blah blah blah. This year, I pass.

Plus, the Sponge Bob Square Pants movie is on at 8.

I'm all ready for 2008, AND actually looking forward to it. I'm ready. BRING IT!!!

Blog Colors

Even though I was all "Mom, get your own blog" when she suggested gray with burgundy...I have been gray-zy lately. Gray shoes, gray dresses, gray sweaters. I thought "mmmkay, gray blog".

Although no burgundy. Mom, get your own blog.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Animals That Hibernate







The TravelGretta is enjoying a successful hibernation, which includes an unplugged telephone, and an ignored email account, as well as her winter layer of flannel pajamas and Ugg boots slippers.

The TravelGretta's hibernation is slightly different from most, in that she is surprisingly productive in her den/cave during this time.

*Clothes from closet have been gathered and placed in bags to go to consignment shops and Goodwill.

*Bills have been carefully paid and stamped.

*Budget for 2008 has been figured.

*Garbage and recycling have been collected.

*"Thank you" notes have been written.

We were unable to locate a photo of the elusive hibernating TravelGretta, but are still on the lookout, and will follow this path, which we believe might lead us to her:

Just like breadcrumbs.

Friday, December 28, 2007

Combat the blahhhhs. You'll need combat boots.

The only thing worse than the post-Christmas blahhhhs, are the post-Christmas blahhhhs with this weather forecast:

And those peeks of sun? Just for fun color contrast on the screen. They won't happen. Or they'll happen at 8AM, when no one in their right mind is awake. to combat the weather blahhhhs...hmmm. I'll bet you know where this is going. And where we're going.

That's right. Shopping! And it's necessary shopping because those gift cards aren't going to spend themselves. Gift cards, 401Ks. Potato, potahto.

p.s. Here are the boots:

Retail: $268

Crazy pricing for size 8: $39.99

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Post-Christmas. Blahhhhh.

I have been slacking on the posts. Partially because I was in the middle of a Christmas tornado, and partially because I have been checking the blog search-stats on SiteMeter, and a whole mess of people are being improperly directed to my blog, due to some Google image searchiness.

This is disappointing. Mostly for them. Because I KNOW that frustration, when you're in the Google search window, typing in something like "shoes that turn into chocolate at the end of the night", and a bunch of random stuff comes up. Under "images" it would be random images.

Google? What are you smoking?

I did that exact search:

shoes that turn into chocolate at the end of the night

And you know what image came up first?

A lemon tart.

How is this chocolate? It's not.

How is this shoes? It's not.

See? Disappointing.
Now, you might be saying to yourself "Well, stupid, maybe you should try re-wording your search". And I'd be all "shut up - you're not the boss of me", and you'd be all "well maybe I should be, and I'd pay you minimum wage until you de-stupidized yourself, and figured out a better Google search". And then I'd be all swearing at you, just in my head, and thinking how totally poetic it would be if YOU did a Google search for something, and that same lemon tart photo appeared.

And then I'd do an entirely new Google search for "chocolate shoes", and come up with this:

I feel much better now.

Friday, December 21, 2007

The Holidays Can Be Tough

Happy Friday - Here's Your Crap

Suzel did a fantastic post today, dedicated to "gifting" presents to everyone on her blogroll. I got 3-4 hot guys, and some shoes. Awesome! Since it was "3 or 4 hot guys", I'm going to go with 4. It'll look better on the videotape in the photos.

I loved the idea, even though you may or may not recall my vehement rant/opposition to pretend gifts. Although that was really more of an opposition to PAYING for pretend gifts. If you are just randomly doling them out, they're good stuff. Good, pretend, stuff.

I'm even going to pretend-gift things to blogs I frequent, that don't know I'm frequenting. And they'll never know about the gifts. But I'll know. And so will Santa.

3 for 365 (Julia) - one thousand and ninety-five warm fuzzies, just in case your three daily good things don't always readily pop up in the next year.

A Painting A Day - galleries in New York, London, and Paris, where your works can be displayed and purchased for outrageous sums.

Couture Candy - the cell phone numbers of all the young Hollywood starlets, so you can ask them what they're really wearing.

Gallery of the Absurd - a Johnny Depp & Quentin Tarantino sandwich.

Gen X Theorist - more free time to post. I've been looking at that Nov. 16 one forever. Or at least since Nov. 16.

Gervorama - totally healthy blood, and long, thick eyelashes.

Go Fug Yourself/Fug Girls - all the fame, money and accolades you properly deserve; and definitely NOT leggings. You girls are hilarious.

Holy Candy - Limitless Starbucks gift card.

The I Can Haz Cheeseburger Cats - cheeseburgers, of course.

I Heart Fashion - Roger Vivier shoes, and a Narcisco Rodriguez dress.

I Watch Stuff - a plasma television set that covers one entire wall of your apartment, and a bucket of popcorn.

Idea of Progress - A literary agent & book deal, and sauna hot pants.

IHoB - The complete series of "Veronica Mars" on DVD, and your own comic book line.

Janet Charlton's Hollywood - Mary Hart's job.

Jezebel girls - birth control, and gift certificates to Toys in Babeland.

Kevin - bacon (hey! Kevin Bacon! totally unintentional!)

Kim - limitless frequent flier points so you can come back to the U.S. and visit whenever you want.

Krissi - A clone to go to work for you, so you can stay home all day and take photos of Amalia.
Life in a Venti Cup - an even bigger cup.

Lost in Wonder - NOT the Fascination Doll, that's for certain. The perfect man, so you can get out of purgatory.

Not Salmon - magic pills that eliminate Writer's Block.

Pistols at Dawn - SHOES! The idea that you only own one or two pair is making me bananas; boys with great shoes get a lot more attention from the ladies, trust me. And my mom would give you a hug - she says you need one.

Retail Recovery - A running column at W magazine.

Sarah's Sister (Lou) - guaranteed slot in Boston Marathon, and a washer/dryer.

Second City Style - unrestricted access to all designers' collections, before they launch.

Skyler's Dad - the complete collection of Joey Lawrence media/memorabilia.

Snarkywood - they're no longer "live", so they won't notice if I skip them.

Superficial - the actual rock-hard abs, and arms of titanium you're always blathering on about. And Hayden Panetierre's phone number.

Suzel - a 250-lb crocheted comforter. Oh wait! You might have one already. How about a pony, and a stableboy who resembles Cameron Mathison?

The Best Life Ever (Stacy & Kevyn) - what do you get the couple who has everything??? A big virtual Christmas hug.

The Sartorialist - Hermes leather fingerless gloves. It gets cold, photographing New York in the winter.

Two Dog Blog/Landis - a million dollar gift card to Bottega, as well as a humble getaway-cottage in China; and TGret coupons for doggy-sitting;)

Unsorted Mail - someone to sort the mail.

WendyB - some quality Girl Time with Coco, and a David-Yurmanesque ad campaign.

WhiskeyMarie - an all-expense paid trip to Scotland for some serious Whiskey-tasting, and Footie-pajamas, to complete your collection.

I am not getting anything for TMZ, even though they are on the blog-roll. I've been catching snippets of their show, and they are beyond annoying - following celebrities around with cameras, baiting and taunting them in attempts to get an incriminating sound-byte. Sheesh.

It's really only fun when they follow Britney. That girl pays ALL their salaries. And if she were giving out Christmas bonuses, they'd be in the form of Cheetos and Taco Bell Meximelts.

Anyhoo - thanks to all on the blog-roll who keep me entertained and happy. Enjoy your gifts!

Thursday, December 20, 2007

How Was Your Day, TravelGretta?

My day was shoe! Thanks for asking!

I was walking along the dusty shoulder of the Road to Recovery, when I looked up and saw a DSW!

(Ed. note: I had no idea the Road to Recovery goes right by Northgate Mall)

They say "Laughter is the best medicine"!

Normally I would agree with They, but I sometimes think laughter is just a placebo, and the real healing comes with a screaming deal on a pair of Charles David pumps:

Retail price: $215

DSW price: $129

80% off: $25.80 (plus tax)

Even with a head cold - I've still got it!

Sick Blogging - Good for No One

If this is your first time visiting the TravelGretta blog, please excuse the mess. I've been sick all week, and the posts have been about as un-funny as it gets.

Click on the links for slightly better entertainment:

*Joey Lawrence

*Marie Claire January Cover

*Maladies By Mail

*Avid Traveler

*Shopping Scores

Thank you, come again!

I Do Not Sink Zat Means, What You Sink It Means

I love blog comments. Loves them. And I am pretty much familiar with all of the people who leave comments on the blog.

The "Anonymous" login, usually throws me for a second, but then I'll read the comment, and my mom will sign it at the bottom.

But there have been a few occasions, when I was reading the comments and clicking "Publish, publish, publish", and then read one that was "Anonymous", and also didn't seem to make any sense to me. Like this one that came through today, following a post about not-really-look-a-likes:

Anonymous said...
ummm p.s. people..Blake Lively is her real name..along with her other siblings..duh

"Anonymous" - if that is his/her real name - was actually commenting on the sharply witty comments, previously made by Pistols at Dawn, and myself:

pistols at dawn said...
Man, I am late to the party. But you are 100% right about the fact that it just matches you up with whoever's craning their neck like you were.Also, being on a show on the CW doesn't equal fame, so you're probably still more recognizable than "Blake Lively," which sounds like the fakest name since "Fakey McFakename."
October 12, 2007 8:36 AM
TravelGretta said...
I LOVED Fakey McFakename on "the OC", and in that movie with the kid from "Desperate Housewives"!Except I think she has an eating disorder, is having one of K-Fed's babies, and is in rehab with Lindsay now.
October 12, 2007 9:28 AM

I kind of expect that the people reading this blog GET it. If they don't, they just stop reading and go find something else they like. Probably. At least that's what I do when I'm not really digging something.
There is a fairly high chance that "Anonymous" just did a search for Blake Lively, and accidentally happened upon the post, and was completely unprepared for the type of blog-versation we were having. That's right, I said blog-versation - my word. But without the irony gene, or the funny bone (both very important parts of the human anatomy), everything I'm saying, on an almost-daily basis, will just seem like a foreign language. Not even regular-foreign, but like martian-foreign. If you read this regularly, consider yourself bi-lingual.

I don't have a point here, but I've seen interviews with Blake Lively, and I think SHE would get it. And her other siblings probably would too.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Who'dja Rather?

Christmas Wish for the Spears Family

Birth control.

Honestly. How much more of this do we need?

If you haven't yet heard, Britney's 16 year old sister, Jamie-Lynn (pictured in the white shirt, delicately voicing her opinion to some bystanders), is pregnant.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

I still feel like doody

So I thought this would be appropriate (although pretty sure not actually appropriate-appropriate; if my head didn't hurt so much, I would be laughing):

For those of you who don't watch "South Park", it's Mr. Hanky. The Christmas Poo.

Sister Ellie will love this. Friend Kerry will not.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Now have fever

And not "Christmas fever" either.


Aftermath of Christmas Parties

Hangovers aside, when you are out and about, and eating buffet snacks, and picking up the wrong glass, and just mingling with many, many people, whatever. Coming down with a cold is kind of inevitable.

I woke up this morning, and immediately thought "do I have any Vitamin C in the apartment?"

Kiwi will have to do.

Or do Chicken Fajitas have Vitamin C?

White Elephant Parties

Where else would you get a yodeling pickle?

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Christmas Parties. And SHOES!

Friend Kerry had Christmas party last night.

There was this:

And this:

And this:

And I wore these:

And tonight, there's going to be more of all of the above.

Except I'm wearing these instead:

And then there will be more on Sunday...

'Tis the season! Although, with shoes, 'tis always the season. 'Tis, 'tis.

What do you mean "normal people don't take pictures of their shoes"?

Friday, December 14, 2007

Last-Minute Christmas Shopping

Friend Card, who frequently claims she is "too busy" at work, somehow managed to find a website called Kitty Wigs.

(I was going to just do a normal, non-Christmasey post with this one, but then thought "WHY?")

The following photos are from the website, and were taken by Alison V. Smith and Jill Johnson, and have almost convinced me that kitties NEED wigs. Especially for the holiday parties:

Since these are smaller than normal wigs, they would work well as stocking stuffers. Kitty-stocking stuffers. If your kitty is wearing stockings, she is definitely a candidate for a Kitty Wig.

Merry Christmas, Mittens!

Thursday, December 13, 2007

White Christmas - Watch With Snacks

Every time I watch "White Christmas" (which, you can imagine, is at least once or twice a year), I am so distracted by Vera-Ellen's impossibly stick-thin frame (her waist is the size of my ring finger - a 5, and it had better be platinum, mister), that I barely have more than a few minutes to think about how Rosemary Clooney is George Clooney's aunt.

Are they related by blood? Does George resemble Rosemary? Maybe a the jawline/chin area...Does George watch "White Christmas"? Does he know that my ring size is a 5?

And then back to noticing that every item in Vera-Ellen's on-screen wardrobe involves a turtleneck. Which, I assumed was covering up an undoubtedly emaciated neck. Seriously, she was SO thin! She was adorable, and a fabulous dancer, but I spend 80% of the movie just gaping at her cinched waist, which looks like it will simply snap if you pull the belt one notch tighter.

I checked IMDB, and my self-proclaimed astute fashion-sensors were once again, right on target.

"All of her costumes in White Christmas (1954), down to her robe and sleepwear, were designed to cover her neck, which was aged beyond her years due to her eating disorder, anorexia."

The lesson here? Eat those Christmas cookies. Very few people can carry off a turtleneck.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

How Smart You Are!

If you were thinking to yourself, "Self, this TravelGretta seems to have gone a little holiday-nutty, and turned into ChristmasGretta..."

You'd be right.

And if you continued to think to yourself "...and I'll bet she owns this movie"

You'd be right, twice.

An Insider's View of BlogWorld

That bastard, IHoB, just gave me a homework assignment. Or a freelance writing assignment that I am not being paid for. But, really, it's an honor just to be nominated. Below, is a story/story virus which is being passed around the blogiverse, and added to here and there by various blog authors. See if you can guess which part I did.


I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

I was used to the house being quite cold in the mornings, as the night log usually burns out around one AM when I am dreaming cozily under my covers, not normally waking to put a new one on until morning. I was surprised because on the rare occasions that it actually had reached sub-freezing temperatures in the house, I had awakened in the night to restart the fire. I would have been worried about the pipes before P-Day, but there hadn’t been running water in two years and that was one of the few advantages to being dependent on rainwater, no pipes. (Freida Bee)

I rummaged around in the kitchen and found one of the few things that hadn't frozen overnight to eat- an expired granola bar. "Better than nothing", I muttered to myself as I tore off the wrapper and took a bite, trying to not chip a tooth in the process.I thought I should go out to the shed and bring in more wood. The mind-numbing cold snap that had set in over the last few days seemed to be in no hurry to leave. Pulling on my heavy coat and wool hat, I considered for a moment what lay ahead for the day. Normally I would spend much of the day making any needed repairs to the house, cleaning, reading various newsletters, cooking, and just trying to keep busy in general. With no job to fill my time anymore I have found my new found "freedom" to be both a blessing and a curse. Ever since P-day, the only job most of us have is to sit in our homes and find something, anything, to pass the time.Well, that- and to stay alive. (Whiskeymarie)

I reached the woodshed I’d built from the remains of our fence, and heard a rustling. Fearing one of the wild dogs that now roamed the neighborhood, I crept back to the house for the gun my husband left with me before he volunteered to join the fighting. My hand was shaking so badly, I didn’t think I could pull a trigger, so I also grabbed an old broomstick to use as a club. My son tried to follow me, and I ordered him back inside; he obeyed, frightened by the harshness of my tone. He seemed not to sense how terrified I was and I was glad. Inching toward the shed, glancing backward every few steps to be sure the children were staying inside, I heard the rustle again, accompanied by a very human cough.“Who is it?” I shouted, in as angry and menacing a voice as I could muster. No response.“Damn it, I know you’re in there! I have a gun! Come out with your hands up, or I’ll just start shooting!”“Don’t shoot!” said the voice, and...(CDP)

I woke up hungry. The room was white, small and seemed to not have any doors. That is when I realized I was naked. I had a thin sheet of plastic over me and some machine making beeping noises to my left.I started to rise up that is when I noticed the cuffs holding me to the bed. I started to scream.A large booming voice came over a loud speaker, "Calm down, calm down Mrs. Peabody."I bellowed out, "Who are you?! Why am I chained down?! Where are my children?! "The voice replied, " There has been an accident, everything will be fine. There will be someone to assist and answer your questions shortly."Then there was silence. I yelled some more but nothing. No response. Then suddenly, a creaking sound. To the right there was a door opening, it was......(Wyldth1ng)

A cat. A small black cat padded gently in and hopped on the bed. It paused to look at me and let out a sorrowful moan. As it crept toward my face I looked into its strangely unsettling eyes."Down, Scheiser," a man's voice spoke.A sullen, shambling figure entered the room. His right hand was bandaged, part of it soaked through with blood."Hello, Mrs. Peabody." He pulled up a chair. "Sit, Scheiser."The cat curled up on the man's feet. The man stared past me, resigned, distracted."Where is my family?!!" I moved my leg to kick at the man, only inches from me, but restraints dug into my ankles.Without turning to address me, the man spoke, in words that seemed memorized and repeated a hundred times before -- "Your family is safe. As safe as any of us can be. I would let you go see them right now if I could, Mrs. Peabody. But you and I are linked.""I don't know what you're talking about!""Applesauce. Cold. What do you really know about what your people call, P-Day, Mrs. Peabody? It is starting again."(Splotchy)

Why a cigarette-smoking orangutan named Applesauce, you ask? Why not a cigarette-smoking orangutan named Applesauce. That's why.Also I should note:A. My version of our heroine may not look like how one would expect a "Mrs. Peabody" to look, but hey... neither did Mrs. Peel.B. I got the bandage wrong, so an ambiguous explanation in the dialogue is a lame "out." Sorry. I pencilled and inked this late last night. And realized I'm an idiot after the fact. (You think I'd know that by now).C. Smoking signifies sinister simian. (IHoB)

Mrs. Peabody threw back her head, her CASCADING LOCKS (for you, Pistols) shaking with mirth, and let out a hearty belly-laugh. That's right. A bowl-full-of-jelly belly laugh.

"P-Day!" she cried, with glee,"of course, refers to Christmas!" (more bowl-full-of-jelly belly laughing) "Presents Day anyone? It's so simple!"

And then she stopped, mid-belly laugh, as the man's eyes started to twinkle. His white moustache began to grow into a full beard, and his cheeks popped into cherry-like buds, and his belly expanded and began to shake.

Mrs. Peabody's eyes grew to saucer-size, and her jaw dropped to the floor, as Santa Claus stood before her, laughing and ho-ho-ho-ing.

He then asked if, next year, could she please bake the regular Christmas cookies, and not try to make them "low-fat" by substituting applesauce for the butter. APPLESAUCE for God's sake! They were so hard to eat with his bandaged hand - that spiteful Dasher had gotten a bit snippy at the last house, and boy is he going to be on shovel-duty for the next 100 houses.

Santa, then removed the cigarette from the orangutan's mouth. That orangutan was a gift for Mrs. Peabody's youngest daughter, and the cigarette was a dangerous fire hazard.

And then he reached into his sack, which had been carefully hidden by the black kitty cat, and pulled out a brand new pair of Christian Louboutin shooties for Mrs. Peabody.

She had been a very good girl that year.

The End.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

A break from Christmas...but we can fix it...

Okay, and I really mean it, because I must focus on the topic that is Joey Lawrence. And I was a little afraid that I might SAY "A break from Christmas", and post about Joey Lawrence, and then discover that he had a Christmas album...

But I checked with my good friend, Google, and it doesn't appear that he does. A shame, really.

So, to set the tone for the Joey Lawrence story, we call Friend Christine "Hi Five". Because she does. All the time.

"Hey! Awesome score on those half-price Stuart Weitzmans! Hi Five!"

"Woo hoo! You got a raise? Hi Five!"

"Did you see that parking spot I got? Right out front! Hi Five!"

Urban Dictionary's "word of the day" today is "Wi-Five"

It's a high five that doesn't involve actual contact, normally over a long distance where a real high-five isn't possible. Mix of "wireless" and "high-five", hence "wi-five", (wireless high-five).

I guess we're officially Gamer-nerds now. Or something. Do people still play Dungeons & Dragons?

Anyway - Christine was pretty excited about this, and got a little carried away in her email response, and wrote something about "Wo-fiving" all of us. So I wanted to know if it was "wo-five" or "wi-five", and that "wo-five" should maybe be reserved for when you're really stoked about something. Like when Blossom starts dating one of the kids from Kriss Kross, and you'll totally be allowed backstage at the show.

(for those of you who did not watch too much television in the early 90s, "Blossom" was a television show - Joey Lawrence played Blossom's dim-witted older brother - and Joey's main catchphrase was "WHOA!")

Christine emailed this:

If you look closely, you'll see that the title of this smash album (single?) is "Nothin' My Love Can't Fix".

I was so thrilled with this. I have SO much crap that needs fixin!

  • driver's side inside-door handle on my car is broken - I could probably take it to my mechanic, Carl, but Joey's love sounds slightly more reliable.
  • lightbulb broke off in socket - Martha Stewart says some nonsense about crushing a potato or an apple up there, and the remaining pieces will miraculously come out, but I think Joey's love might be a better solution.
  • TV remote control seems to have frizzled itself out - new batteries aren't helping - JOEY'S LOVE! COME ON OVER!

Tell me what you have that needs Joey's love, and we'll see what we can do about it.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Christmas cookies

Christmas Cookie Recipe - courtesy of Friend Ellers. Read carefully.

1 cup of water

1 tsp baking soda

1 cup of sugar

1 tsp salt

1 cup brown sugar lemon juice

4 large eggs

1 cup nuts

2 cups dried fruit

1 Bottle Crown Royal

Sample the Crown Royal to check quality.

Take a large bowl, check the Crown Royal again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer...Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one teaspoon of sugar...Beat again.

At this point it's best to make sure the Crown Royal is still OK, try another cup.. just in case.

Turn off the mixer thingy.

Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the frigging fruit off floor... Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a dewscriver.

Sample the Crown Royal to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something.... who giveshz a sheet.

Check the Crown Royal. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table. Add a spoon of ar, or somefink.... whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window.

Finish the bottle of Crown Royal. Make sure to put the stove in the dishwasher.

Cherry Mistmas

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Embarrassing Christmas Songs I Love

Elton John - "Step Into Christmas"

Wham - "Last Christmas"

And the very most supremely awesome embarrassing, Mariah Carey - "All I Want For Christmas"

Friend Josh said

"I actually have that M Carey song saved on a playlist called 'Awful, Dirty, Secret Pleasures'. You can out me on your blog if you would feel safety in numbers, because its true - ALL I want for Christmas is you. You, and some new shoes. But mostly just you. And the shoes. But you are more important. But if I could have both ... "

Such a flatterer. And safety in numbers is always best, when admitting to extremely bad taste in Christmas music.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

File Under: Things that are NOT good Christmas

My little Chocolate-Covered Chicken Dumpling, WhiskeyMarie (girl, I speak your language), aptly commented on my Christmas fixation, and expressed her concern that I might own one of those Christmas sweatshirts.

Sorry - I just vomited in the bathroom. I'm back now.

Egads. There is nothing worse than the Christmas sweatshirt/sweater. And this year, one of my very funny acquaintances invited me to a party that she and her boyfriend throw, where the required dress code is one of those horrible ensembles.

At first, I was laughing and thinking "HYSTERICAL!"

But then I set out to find something suitable to wear to the party, and "hysterical" was replaced with "ohdeargodNOOOOOO".
Mom and I went out shopping over the Thanksgiving weekend, and Hideous Christmas Sweater was on my list. So we went to Sears, and JCPenney (apologies to both stores, but you must admit you're not known for your current fashion trends, right?), and they did not disappoint.

I could not, however, justify spending even $20 on something like this:

I just couldn't. And those turtlenecks with snowmen and candy canes all over them? I'm getting itchy just thinking about them.

I just kept wrinkling my nose, and violently shaking my head at everything my mom would point to, and I finally came to the conclusion that I just couldn't buy a hideous Christmas sweater.

I then felt like I probably shouldn't go to the party, because I HATE when there's a theme, and then people show up not dressed for the theme. I didn't want to be a hypocrite. Friend Kerry was confounded by my changed tune, and just couldn't understand why I couldn't just get it together, get a gross, awful, hideous sweater and go to the party.

And then she bought one.

We had to go to a bar to help celebrate Friend Kevin's birthday, prior to going to the ugly sweater party. I just gave up, and decided to go, wearing a normal outfit that made me happy. When I saw Kerry at the bar, she was wearing a red cardigan, with a plaid collar, and giant snowmen and gold pieces and...

Sorry, I had to run to the bathroom again.

And she looked at me and said "Now I understand".

Friday, December 7, 2007

Like Tiny Lumps of Coal

Travel Agent Imed sent a box of Christmas chocolates!

They're all DARK chocolate.

And they're Russell Stover.

Bah humbug.

It's the THOUGHT! It's the THOUGHT!

I know.

Thursday, December 6, 2007



I'm probably going to be very annoyed with myself after Christmas, when I can't remember the original color scheme.

But for this month - FUN!

Christmas Music!

Scary David Hasselhoff Christmas records aside, I LOVE Christmas music. Like, LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE it. That's clear now, right?

So, my absolute favorite is Andy Williams' Christmas, with the green cover, where he's wearing an ivory-colored jacket, and looking a little bit like he's got somethin' special in his pocket that he wants to share with you. It's not this one:

But I have that one too.

It's THIS one!

And my FAVORITE song is the first one on Side 1 - "Sleigh Ride".

Every year, since as far back as I can remember, my parents would lug the Christmas ornaments box up from the basement, and we'd put on a little "Andy Williams, Merry Christmas", and I would become quite hyper and bounce around the living room, knocking over the nativity scene (we're not religious, we just liked the figurines), and winding up the music box that was shaped like a Swiss chalet, and played "Lara's Theme" from "Dr. Zhivago", while throwing both tinsel AND that awful gold garland around the tree.

Who has a headache?


I still do this - minus the knocking over of the nativity scene, and the tinsel & garland disaster. Both my sisters loathe the Andy Williams Christmas record, so I can only play it when they're not around. And they ARE around when we're decorating the tree. LET ME PLAY ANDY WILLIAMS! Stupid Scrooge Sisters.

I'm going to download it to my iPod, so that I can be listening to "Sleigh Ride" AND having Quality Family Tree Decorating Time with Anastasia and Drusilla.

I Hate When The Holidays Are Scary

My version of "The Nightmare Before Christmas"

Thanks IHOB.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

A Sample From My Day

Busy day. Busy week. No time for proper post.

Plenty of time to copy/paste yet another verbal puzzle from everyone's favorite travel agent, Imed:

"l have left word for Mr.Smith to call me w/in the hour and have him call his cc for extra 1k (15.854.74) the 1K to take care of 2/14/08 trsfer airport-hotel,2nts king non smk Marriott Hotel-Panama City incl bkfst,2/15/08 city tour, 2/16/08 transfer w/group to Sea Voyager. Then 1 extra night at the Hotel Melia Cariari 03/01/08 and transfer on 3/2/08 to airport and to include the extra insurance if needed to cover the little extra unless their $577.37 p.p. will include this!!"

I don't understand it any more than you do.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Blocking Troy Aikman

Okay, I really wanted to use my lunch hour today to get caught up on my blog READING. I'm VERY BEHIND!

But I was reading Pistols' post about a Kirsten Dunst sighting, and wanted to one-up him.

This weekend we stayed here:

And they have two very small elevators. We were waiting in the lobby for one of these small elevators, and when it arrived, the doors opened, and I walked right into this:

For those unfamiliar, it was Troy Aikman, former Dallas Cowboys quarterback, and a bunch of other noteworthy things. Probably.

Mr. Aikman exited, we entered, and let the doors close, then turned to each other with that "OMIGOD" face, and I was like "He's going a little heavy on the Mystic Tan". (Ed. note: may or may not have been Mystic Tan. May have been real, but real tan in Chicago in December just looks odd.)

Monday, December 3, 2007

Book vs. Movie

I am frantically reading this:





(Code for "I'll post more after I finish". Sorry mom.)

My Kind of Town

Did you know that Chicago is the chocolate capital of the United States?

Neither did I.

I do now.