and Russian tea cakes, plus some white chocolate
and cinnamon sugar coated pretzels.
To warm his fingers:
We didn't forget the furry, four-footed types, either:
Happy Holidays to you who don't,
and a Joyous New Year to everyone!
Big Guy figured out how to save The Video from our palmcorder to the computer, so without further ado, here it is!
*All the image stabilization features in the world can't fix a thumb that hasn't yet mastered the zoom. Dramamine, anyone?
**Oh, and the end? I have no idea what that was all about. So, yeah, sorry. I'm still working on the whole editing thing!
***And apparently I didn't learn from LG's birthday videos not to talk while filming. Sigh. Spielberg I'll never be.
****And now I'm done with the disclaimers. Enjoy the movie!
I found this little nugget over at Second Effort this morning and it immediately brought me back from the Bah!Humbug! mood that I woke up in after yesterdays nonsense. And, in the spirit of giving and sharing, here are two more that are currently on the endless loop soundtrack in my head.
Truly gifts that keep on giving and giving and giving and giving...
The world has gone insane. Mad. I can't even come up with words to describe the asininity. My eyeballs are exploding, every braincell in my head is screaming.
I received an email today instructing me of my "Christian duty" to respond to any one who wishes me "Happy Holidays" with "Blessed Merry Christmas". What? WHAT? W.H.A.T? For the love of Pete, are you kidding me? There is an actual debate on the merits of "Happy Holidays" vs. "Merry Christmas". Debate, people. Because apparently there is nothing more important to take up our time and energy as the peace-filled, abundant, happiness-and-sunshine-with-all-the-birdies- singing-and-cute-little-bunnies-dancing-gaily-around-in-fields-of-sunflowers year of 2006 draws to a close. Boycotts have been called for based on the verbiage with which we greet each other as we shop, conceivably, for gifts for family and friends. "The War on Christmas", it's being called. Because apparently when you wish someone "Happy Holidays" you might as well launch a grenade through their living room window and eat the carcasses of their children.
"Put Christ back into Christmas!" the email screamed at me. Okay, fine. Let's do exactly that. So tell me, WWJD? (To anyone who hasn't walked into a coffee shop since, oh, 1982, that stands for "What Would Jesus Do") Imagine the Son of God, on the eve of the day when His birth is celebrated being greeted by some poor, frazzled soul who has just spent the last 8 hours scanning 17,000,000,000,000,000,005 rolls of holographic wrapping paper.
"Happy Holidays," PFS greets the Lord and Saviour.Or perhaps the Son of man would simply smile and respond, gently and sincerely,"And to you", moving on to something, oh, worthwhile.
"HAPPY HOLIDAYS?" responds the Only Begotten. "How dare you greet me in such an innocuous manner? Don't you know who I am? Tremble, fool, tremble! I've seen you hit the delete button on all those pass-this-on-or-God-won't-know-you're-still-on-His-side emails! You dare to wish me Happy Holidays? The wrath of the Lord upon your head, sinner. The wrath! AND A BLESSED MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU."
Offset the time you've wasted reading my drivel by checking this out:
Well, I wanted to use footage from the Panasonic Palmcorder that we finally came to terms with needing, but as of yet I can't figure out how to transfer the movies from it to the computer. Sigh. Which wouldn't be a huge deal except that we FINALLY got our act together and were prepared before one of Little Guy's "firsts"... no restaging or coaxing needed. In our shiny new video camera lives the most wonderful footage we could have taken -- Little Guy's initial reaction to the newly decorated and lit Christmas tree. It's breathtaking. It's all you could possibly imagine. The wide-eyed wonder, the somewhat timid approach, the irrestible urge to reach out and touch it, the grin of unparalleled delight when no one tells him "no". It's all there, better than I could have ever designed and I have no way of sharing it.
Quite simply, WTF, Panasonic? What were your engineers thinking? That somehow the cuteness of the mini-discs would distract us from the fact that we can't DO ANYTHING with our films? Or that the snugness of the handstrap would help us forget that our precious memories are TRAPPED IN THAT DAMN CAMERA? Never fear, we will find a way. Mr. Panasonic may have to visit us in person, but the footage will be shared. Just not now. For this post we will return to the imagry of our safe and reliable (albeit only 30 seconds of recording time) Canon Powershot.
Take your motion sickness pills and buckle up! There's no image stabilization on these videos:
What the well dressed staircase is wearing this year...
The rest of the way up...(to the kitchen. Okay, so we live in a treehouse.)
And now for the still shots:
Eggnog or hot chocolate?
Mmmm, hot chocolate.
Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
No extra work for Santa! The wrapped presents were always from friends or family.
Colorful lights on tree/house or white?
Growing up it was always colorful lights. I've gone back and forth since it's been all up to me. Last year we got a pre-lit tree that only has white lights, so I guess that'll be it for a while. Big Guy makes the decisions on how the outside is decorated.
Do you hang mistletoe?
No, but I'm not sure why.
When do you put your decorations up?
As soon after Thanksgiving as I can get to it!
What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
Ann's squash casserole
Favorite holiday memory as a child?
Sledding on the West Road (hey sibs, can you believe the changes in the farm?!) until our fingers were so cold that they hurt when we finally came in to warm them by the fire.
When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I really don't know, but I'll bet I know who.
Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
Growing up we didn't. Big Guy's family always opened one gift from a family member. We've gone back and forth on that tradition... guess we've got some holiday decisions to make before Little Guy catches on that we don't know what we're doing!
How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
A little differently every year. Stay tuned for this year's endeavor*...
Snow! Love it or leave it?
Can you ice skate?
Does it count if I'm on my butt 90% of the time?
Do you remember your favorite gift?
My "Christina" doll.
What is your favorite holiday dessert?
What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Decorating the tree and checking out the lights around town.
What tops your tree?
Poor Santa*... :)
(well I guess the story is about the angel, but I still think of it every year when I decorate the tree!)
Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
That's a toss-up!
What is your favorite Christmas song?
Candy Canes! Yuck or yum?
Christmas tree real or fake?
I used to be a real-tree snob, but who wants to carry a real tree up all those stairs*?!
What is your favorite holiday movie?
A Christmas Story
What are you most thankful for this Christmas season?* To be illustrated in an upcoming post...
The sparkle in Little Guy's eyes when he saw the tree the first time!*
First things first, Little Guy's 1st birthday was a smashing success.
whilst stuck in traffic on the GW Bridge.
See that? We just lost 8 minutes sitting here.
Don't think of them as lost minutes. Think of them as 8 minutes that we got to spend together.
I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
Hey, Kixx, check this out:
Mother Vision may not extend to all computers and therefore the amazing prowess exhibited by the subject of this clip may not be evident to all viewers. Check your local listings to see if you are eligible for Mother Vision. Mother Vision: A totally unique way of looking at the world.
As much as I would like to rip you a new one, I'm actually writing this letter to offer you an apology. And, believe it or not, a "thank-you". Yes, you certainly deserve both!
You see, I realize that when your
daddy's shiny, new, over-priced, gas-guzzling, road-hogging tank nearly plowed into my borrowed tuna can at 1.5 times the speed of light today, I was in the wrong. I should not have been looking at street signs trying to figure out where the f*** I was as the signal light changed from green to yellow to red. I should have realized that the sight of my menacing 3 mph approach would cause you to panic. I can totally see how the very idea of me rolling into the crosswalk was enough to send you into mind-numbing hysteria. Had I been more alert, I would have totally realized what was about to happen. But I was distracted and so it never crossed my mind that you would use a blinding rainstorm and a busy intersection to verify whether or not your 20 passenger (sans passengers) Hummer could truly go from zero to 60 in a blink of the eye. Mea culpa. I truly do appreciate you alerting me with your 200 decible horn. And for making sure that I heard it by holding it down until you were well past the intersection. All bitterness aside (I admit, I was startled, even a little bit embarrassed), I know I was wrong. You had the right of way. Your light was green. Mine was solid red. And I did encroach on the intersection enough that I had to hit the brakes to keep from entering it. Left at that, I looked like the jackass.
Rolling into the intersection after making enough noise to make sure that all eyes were on you, slowing down to .00002 mph in the middle of the intersection, rolling down your (passenger side) window to the deluge and leaning across to yell and gesture at me (Which? Not very effective since my windows remained firmly sealed against the wind and rain.) very much left you looking like the jackass. So thanks for taking the heat. I'm sure the guy in the car behind you was amused, too. At least, I think that's why he gave you the one-finger salute as he cut off the car in the next lane who swerved and honked at him, nearly taking out the taxi. Way to stay cool in a moment of crisis!
It's been quiet around here lately. Totally my fault and I feel as if an explanation of sorts is in order. Along with all the typical "we've been busy" and "where does the time go" type excuses, the general atmosphere has been heavy. That dull, angst ridden, isolated, screaming-silently-in-the-back-of-my-closet kind of heavy. And while I know in my head that it would probably be better to get all that sludge out of my head and GET SOME HELP, I don't like to face the clouds. Hell, I don't even like to admit that there are clouds. It's much easier to glop on a big, happy grin, throw up a few nonsense posts and wait for the storm to pass. The sun is starting to peek through, though, so I'm climbing back out from under my rock for a much needed stretch. And a shower. The funk has got to go.
Where to start, where to start... I guess the last REAL post was pre- Amy's visit, so let's play catch-up from there.
Big Guy did us proud in the PDR, finishing 2264th out of 11,119 runners (well into the top 25%!)
Here's the one shot that I managed to get:
No, not the guy in the center of the picture. To the right. A little further. Further. Past the guy in the Belgium T-shirt. There behind the camo hat. Squint. That's his eyebrow, and in the back there you can see his shoulder. FYI: It's not a good idea to hand me your camera to capture life-moments.
Little Guy got mobile, too:
Amy's visit was nothing short of having Christmas come early. For me the beauty of our friendship is reflected perfectly in our boys:
Betcha didn't know this (thanks, Amy, for the link!):
* There are 1,190,875 people in the U.S. with the first name Susan.
* Statistically the 25th most popular first name.
* More than 99.9 percent of people with the first name Susan are female.
* Names similar to Susan:
I just received the following email:
Do you really know how to forward e-mails? 50% of us do; 50% DO NOT.Do you wonder why you get viruses or junk mail? Do you hate it? Every time you forward an e-mail there is information left over from the people who got the message before you, namely their e-mail addresses & names. As the messages get forwarded along, the list of addresses build s, and builds, and builds, and all it takes is for some poor sap to get a virus, and his or her computer can send that virus to every E-mail address that has come across his computer. Or, someone can take all of those addresses and sell them or send junk mail to them in the hopes that you will go to the site and he will make five cents for each hit. That's right, all of that inconvenience over a nickel! How do you stop it? Well, there are several easy steps:My thoughts?
One of the main ones I hate are the ones that say something like, -Send this email to 10 people and you'll see something great run across your screen.-Or sometimes they just tease you by saying something really cute will happen. IT AINT GONNA HAPPEN!!!!! (Trust me, Im still seeing some of the same ones that I waited on 10 years ago!) Idont let the bad luck ones scare me either, they get trashed. (could be why I haven't won the lottery) Before you forward an Amber Alert, or a Virus Alert, or some of the other ones floating around nowadays, check them out before you forward them. Most of them are junk mail that have been circling the net for YEARS! Just about everything you receive in an email that is in question can be checked out at Snopes. It is really easy to find out if it is real or not. If it is not, please don't pass it on. So please, in the future, let's stop the junk mail and the viruses.
- When you forward an e-mail, DELETE all of the other addresses that appear in the body of the message (at the top). That's right, DELETE them. Highlight them and delete them, backspace them, cut them, whatever it is you know how to do. It only takes a second. You MUST click the "Forward" button first and then you will have full editing capabilities against the body and headers of the message. If you don't click on "Forward" first, you won't be able to edit the message at all.
- Whenever you send an e-mail to more than one person, do NOT use the To: or Cc: fields for adding e-mail addresses. Always use the BCC:(blind carbon copy) field for listing the e-mail addresses. This way the people you send to will only see their own e-mail address. If you don't see your BCC: option click on where it says To: and your address list will appear. Highlight the address and choose BCC: and that's it, it's that easy. When you send to BCC: your message will automatically say "Undisclosed Recipients" in the "TO:" field of the people who receive it. If that phrase does not appear, type your own email address in the "TO" field, but put everyone else's in the BCC field.
- Remove any "FW :" in the subject line. You can re-name the subject if you wish or even fix spelling.
- ALWAYS hit your Forward button from the actual e-mail you are reading. Ever get those e-mails that you have to open 10 pages to read the one page with the information on it? By Forwarding from the actual page you wish someone to view, you stop them from having to open many e-mails just to see what you sent. (AMEN!) If you can't forward from that page, "Copy" the info and then open a new email blank page and "Paste".
- Have you ever gotten an email that is a petition? It states a position and asks you to add your name and address and to forward it to 10 or 15 people or your entire address book. The email can be forwarded on and on and can collect thousands of names and email addresses. A FACT: The completed petition is actually worth a couple of bucks to a professional spammer because of the wealth of valid names and email addresses contained therein. If you want to support the petition, send it as your own personal letter to the intended recipient. Your position may carry more weight as a personal letter than laundry list of names and email address on a petition. (actually, if you think about it, who is supposed to send the petition in to whatever ca use it supports? And don't believe the ones that say that the email is being traced, it just ain't so!)
Finally, here's an idea!!! Let's send this to everyone we know (but trip my address off first, please). This is something that SHOULD be forwarded.
I had a good one all set up to publish when my computer ran out of juice. Yes, it gave me plenty of warning. Yes, I chose to ignore it. I fought the bar and the bar won. Now I'm just too tired to make even the most half-assed of attempts to recreate it. So I'll just summarize:
Oh that? That's just the sound of all the smack rushing out of me.
We did wind up winning our first game of the fantasy football season. But remember how I made those digs at the Minnesota team? How I was all puffed up and prideful? Yeah, well, apparently the Vikings learned how to play football between the last time that Big Guy watched a game and last night. And now I am sore from all the biting of the lip and pulling of the hair and wailing and gnashing of the teeth as my garments were rent in twain because of the ever-so-close game between the Vikings and the Redskins.
Damn football. How come did you have to go and get all interesting on me?
It has begun. Already I feel a quickening. Little flutters and strange sensations; I can feel it growing minute by minute. Delicate and new. Soft and tenuous. Too small to see, yet, but it's there. Oh yes, it's definitely there.
Chest hairs. Three of them, I think. A product of the new testosterone laden environment that I now dwell in.
Thursday night I actually sat and watched an entire football game. I now know such things as "at the line of scrimmage the center snaps the ball to the quarterback who then looks to advance the ball down the field, generally by passing it to an eligible receiver" and "the defensive end trys to rush the quarterback on passing plays", and "football players sure do like to pat each other on the ass alot". Our defense played rather well the first half, but decided to take a nap or read the paper or something during the second half. Thankfully the team that we are playing has Minnesota's defense (I'd link 'em, but I have to go get the latest Flash player and that would require shutting down everything and I do so hate stopping when Blogger seems to be cooperating. Linky-links can wait), so Miami could have chosen not to show up at all and we still would have come out ahead.
Today we watched for our offensive players. Donte Stallworth (one of our hometown "Iggles") did us proud, scoring a total of 13 points for our team (I'm still a bit confused as to how he actually did that... something about there being a difference between "running" and "receiving". All I know is he moved really fast. And caught the ball. And he's kinda cute.) Apparently we had other players playing on other teams today as well as Big Guy kept pointing to the little ticker thingy at the top of the screen and saying profound things like "Blah-de-blah just blah-de-blahed. That's our guy.", and "Blah-de-blah! That's blah-de-blah and he just blah-de-blah-blah-blah. So we blah-de-blah.", and "Remember when we blah-de-blah-de-blahed about the blah-de-blahs? Well, that's him. He's our blah-de-blah." At one point he jumped up and held out his hand for a high five. I have to admit he scared me a little.
We'll know the final outcome of the game tomorrow night. Right now Big Guy reports that we're "up 46-0". So, I'll post the final score when I figure out which numbers refer to our team (as opposed to all the other numbers that keep showing up on the screen. Which reminds me, I'm thinking of taking up a collection for the NFL. Apparently they need new clocks. Can you believe it takes 1 1/2 hours for them to reach half time? Each quarter is supposed to be 15 minutes, people. I think they need new batteries.) For now I must head up to bed. I need an extra 5 minutes (non-NFL minutes) to tend to the new growth. And by tending I mean plucking. Tomorrow night I'm watching with a girly drink in one hand and my toenail polish in the other. I may even mask.
Oh, and this rocks. Seriously.
Same basic contents, all purdy'd up.
I was never truly happy with the title and got tired of looking at the same template, so the decision was made to change the blog. I'm thinking the new title will serve as a more accurate lable for the daily drivel that somehow manages to make the oft-interrupted ("Sweetie, let's NOT pull the kitty's tail, hmmm?" "Where are you? You're waaaayyy too quiet!" "Holy crap! It only took you 7 seconds to get all the way up the stairs this time!") trip from my head to my keyboard intact. Stay tuned. This could get very interesting.
Other news-worthy items of the weekend:
I am the proud new co-manager of a fantasy football team. Yup, I, the one who thought the whole point to football was to grab the ass of the cute guy I sat next to in senior history (and then promptly lost interest in the whole sport when I found out he was very much NOT interested in the grabbing of the ass) under the watchful eye of Big Guy, will now be joining the masses singing "dun-dun-du-dun" on Monday nights. We went with the free Yahoo version (made for the simple folk. Really. Because up 'til about 3pm today I truly thought the field was only 50 yards long. Never mind the fact that the 50 yard line is in the middle of the field. So I've got plenty to learn.) This year we'll manage together... next year I'll take him to school. Ahhh, less than 12 hours into it and already talking smack. Should be a lot of fun!
This weekend I vocalized my intent to be ready to run in the Broad Street Run next May and (depending on my performance!) the PDR next September. Me and my big mouth...
Thinking about cutting my hair. Or coloring it. Maybe just a pedicure.
There you have it. CBS gets Katie Couric, Brooke gets an apology from Tom, Iran gets a meeting with the UN(maybe), Labor gets a day off, and the 'logues get a facelift. Lots of stuff, people. And just a touch of nonsense.
Walking through our fair city this morning, I encountered this:
Yup, a genuine plaster butler. But what caught my attention was this:
So now what I want to know is: Was it so good that this is the last one?
Or was it so bad that someone put it back?