Do You Hear What I Hear?

There was a shuffling of meetings earlier in the week and technically I still had some vacation time left so I did the minimal amount of work things I needed to do yesterday from home and then spent the rest of the day cleaning my house.

Really cleaning my house.

Since my home renovation there's been a constant layer of dust on everything and boxes of knickknacks and furniture stacked in corners so even when I do have time to clean, it's only been the bare minimum. And by that I mean just enough so that I don't go insane and so that my closest of friends and relatives can come over without me being completely humiliated.

But yesterday I vacuumed under AND behind furniture. I emptied ALL of the trash cans and recycling bins. I dusted everywhere - not just as high as I can see.

A couple of friends were coming over for dinner and were to arrive at 6:30.

At 6:20 my whole house was clean. Pictures hung, baseboards dusted, furniture de-furred and Febreezed. Lasagna in the oven. Dogs brushed and paws cleaned. Tree lights on. Ella Fitzgerald Christmas CD playing. I had even gone through all of my flatware and pulled out enough forks, knives and spoons for everyone that matched (matched, I tell you!) AND didn't have spots on them from the dishwasher.

At 6:25 I stopped to admire how, for the first time in a long time, my house seemed like a home instead of a shanty inhabited by a hobo.

At 6:26 I decided I would go ahead and make a little cocktail to enjoy while I waited on my guests and bask in this glorious moment of being a capable, competent grown-up.

At 6:27 there was a loud crash as three, five-foot-wide shelves in the mud room collapsed in an avalanche of paint cans and tools and dog treats and light bulbs and extension cords and citronella candles and garden clogs and rain boots and beach towels, gouging several holes in the wall and ripping off part of the molding around the door with them as they fell.

At 6:28 several words were uttered that were not in the holiday spirit.

At 6:29 I made sure that neither dog was trapped under the avalanche and was thankful they weren't in the mud room when it happened.

At 6:30 The dogs I was one minute ago thankful weren't harmed, were threatened as one of them dove head first into the pile of crap to dig out a bag of Greenies and the other started to drag a power drill out through the dog door.

At 6:31 my guests arrived. A dear and wonderful gay couple, who came through the door full of Christmas cheer and with festive food and gifts. They saw my predicament and declared: "If we were more butch we'd help you put all of that back up. Let's make martinis instead!"

At 6:51 my glass was refilled for the second of what would be several times that evening and I no longer cared how clean my house was, the disaster in the mud room, that one of the dogs helped herself to some of the appetizers or that the other tried to stick his nose in someones drink, or hell, even if my flatware matched.

That lasagna was damn good though.

Adventures in Hall Decking

There's no list / Week in Review for last week. I worked. I did laundry. My Christmas shopping is mostly done. The house is somewhat decorated. It was Pink Candle Sunday on the Advent wreath this past Sunday. I don't really know the significance of Pink Candle Sunday, but that's the Sunday I like to decorate.

I had all kinds of big plans for crafty Christmasy window boxes and lights on my porch. Didn't happen. I also had plans for a real tree this year. Also didn't happen. There's a new dresser in my bedroom so my old dresser has no home right now and instead is in the place in the living room where I was going to put the tree. So I'm using the dresser like its a mantle. My advent candles are on the top and the dogs' two stockings are hanging from the top set of drawer knobs.

Last year my house was in a shambles and I thought "Next year I'm going to have a nice house for Christmas." This year I have the good fortune of having new furniture from my grandmother. The problem is that with 900 square feet, every piece of furniture has a place and if something new comes in, then something has to go out. So, there's a holding pattern of sorts going on - an end table and a corner hutch are hanging out in the dining nook in the kitchen and a dresser is loitering in the middle of the living room. Eh, maybe next year I'll have this all figured out...

So for Pink Candle Sunday I did put up my tiny fake tree and it looks kind of cute. And I do have a wreath on my front door. After lunch on Saturday I went to visit the real trees at our local neighborhood garden shop and picked up a wreath there. It's almost too big for my door, but I like it and it smells yummy.

Anyway... I'm realizing how boring this post is so I'm just going to move along to the picture portion of the program:

Giant new yummy-smelling wreath.
(Non Christmasy window box to the left.)


Tree.

Santa's Helpers "helping" in the best possible way.
Apparently all of the excitement of their stockings
being hung on the dresser with care was exhausting.

Happy Holidays!

Week in Review - Giving Thanks

I was indeed thankful last week. Here's what for:

1. Travel and Quiet Weeks at Work
When I get back from a trip I'm not one to say "I'm never getting on plane / staying in a hotel ever again!" No, I immediately start rooting about on the interwebs trying to figure out the next place I can go and how long before I can afford to go there. One of my friends and I spent some time on the flight back from Vegas perusing the Southwest Airlines cocktail napkin that had a map of all of their airports printed on it (we were bored and did not want to watch Twilight again on the other friend's iPhone). This same friend and I have also talked about going to Peru so when I got to work on Monday - with only a three day week and not much to do, here's what I discovered:

• Peru? I could spend a pretty cool week in Peru for about $1,500. Not too shabby.
• Italy? I'd go there once a year if I could afford to. Cheapest city to fly into right now - Rome. But even that was $900+. Ouch.
• Good ole US of A? I priced flying to Chicago and taking a train from there to Spokane or Seattle and stopping mid-way-ish at Glacier National Park for a couple of days. Six words: More. Than. A. Week. In. Peru. Granted, if I wanted to sleep sitting in a chair on the train instead of reserving a sleeper car, then it would have been cheaper. Something has to be done about the convenience and affordability of train travel in this country, people! Anyway - another rant for another post...
• Cheaper alternative? Fly to Denver, rent a car and drive to Yellowstone and Grand Tetons National Parks. Could probably do two weeks for the same - or less! - than the train trip.

2. My Grandmother
She recently moved to an assisted living facility here in Nashville and has been less than pleased. She also has a way with words. Many of them are not quotable here in blogland. We ate lunch with her at her new home this week and here was my favorite quote: "Roger [my dad/her son] took away my car. Said I wasn't allowed to drive anymore. I drive okay. Just have to keep one eye closed." Good times.

3. Non-Traditional Thanksgivings
I have a love-hate relationship with traditions. Generally speaking, I love them, but over the years many of the traditions I've grown to dislike revolve around certain "family" holidays. Where you're supposed to sit around the table with various relations and pretend that you're not all bat-shit crazy simply for the sake of tradition. I'm over it. And I think if Norman Rockwell were alive today, he'd be over it too. In fact, I think his next cover of the Saturday Evening Post could very easily have been of my Thanksgiving dinner this year. The meal: a beautiful array of all the traditional Thanksgiving dishes. Seated around the dining room table: six people - none of whom were related except those that were married to each other. Most of us had already participated in our "traditional" Thanksgiving meals earlier in the day or week that ranged from mildly annoying to really sucky. This one, however, was filled with good conversation, laughter, friendship and good ole fashioned merriment. No passive-aggressive behavior, snide remarks or years of pent-up hostility. Not to be all smug, but I think this is more of what Thanksgiving was intended to be. The lemon martini thingies we had didn't hurt either.

4. A Good Season
I know I go on and on about my beloved Boys in Orange, but I do need to give thanks for them. They've had a hard few years and this season was no exception - a new coaching staff, problems on the field, problems off the field, problems with other coaches. The list goes on. We end our regular season 7-5. On paper that's not the greatest, but I couldn't be more thrilled. They tried hard, they played smart, they learned from their mistakes and they never gave up. They could be 5-7 and I would still be as happy. This past Saturday in their win over Kentucky they did give me a flash-back to two years ago (speaking of Granny), but we all survived. So, for that game and every other game this year, I thank you. Hope you get to go to Tampa for your bowl game. But, if you should end up playing here in Nashville, I will be there with bells on. Orange bells at that.

5. Digital Cameras and Our Beautiful Country
I remember the days of non-digital cameras when I was (briefly) a photography minor and a photographer for our school paper. And I remember the anguish of ruining roll after roll of film while trying to process them in a dark room. And I remember the disappointment in crappy photo after crappy photo on those rolls that I didn't ruin. But no more! Go ahead - take a hundred pictures! Delete the ones that suck! Take more! Upload them to Flickr! Life is good!

So behold - vacation picture highlights! I did not include pictures of Las Vegas - only of Red Rock Canyon. I didn't actually take that many pictures of Las Vegas for some reason (no, I was not drunk) and the ones I did take are mostly of people's faces. And I have a pact with those people. It isn't "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," but rather, "My picture shows up on your damn Facebook page - your picture goes on my blog." So, unless someone violates that pact, I give you only pictures of beautiful rocks and desert plants.

Hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

The Loneliest Number

Imagine my surprise when I turned on my computer this morning to discover that today is Lost Sock Memorial Day.

Totally makes me feel better about the fact that I have on two different brown trouser socks today.

Originally I blamed it on it being Monday and me being lazy and a poor housekeeper.

Turns out I'm just doing my part to celebrate one of our lesser-known holidays.

My guess is that the majority of my lost socks are probably the result of being herded into and then buried in the back yard by the Evil Genius.

Perhaps that is what has happened to all lost socks.

If so, I plan to market her as the "Great Pumpkin" of Lost Sock Memorial Day and use the money to pay for a dog psychologist.

And of course, more socks.

Happy Monday!



Credit to The Pigeon Club of NYC for the image. Don't know what the heck lost socks have to do with Pigeon appreciation, but it is a cute picture. Unless... maybe there are sock-stealing pigeons in New York? Elsie may have competition...

Not Just Any 'Ole Friday

Yesterday was Responsible Dog Owner Day according to my Google iPage (and you know how much I love to consult it for All Things Useful and Important).

Tomorrow is the Tennessee-Florida game.

So (in case you were wondering) that makes today Somewhat Irresponsible Dog Owner / Dear God You Know How Much The World Despises Those Web-Footed Swamp-Sucking Cretins So Could You PleasePleasePlease Find It Within Your Power To Make My Boys In Orange Play Well Enough To Win Or At Least Well Enough Not To Suck As Much As They Did Last Week Day.

And to celebrate this auspicious occasion. I give you (once again) dogs in festive orange outfits:



Elsie and Oliver ask that you send help and/or let them know when it's basketball season.

Go Vols!

Blue Soup

That damn Baby New Year is back. Staring me in the face.

Smug little bastard.

So... I'm supposed to resolve to do something better with my life over the next year. Right? Part of me really hates this concept. But part of me thinks that there really aren't any more excuses for a life as disheveled as the one I'm currently living so why the hell not have some goals for myself.

And speaking of examining the unpleastantness of one's life... One of my Christmas gifts to myself this year was to upgrade my VHS copy of Bridget Jones Diary to DVD. Bridge' and I have been the best of pals since I read the books forever and a day ago and now having her on DVD along with deleted scenes, the-making-of footage and director's commentary means we have spent WAY too much quality time together this holiday season.

And she starts to get to you. She makes you ponder your not-so-good judgement over the last decade. She makes you see her dinner of blue soup, green gunge and orange pudding as a metaphor for your own well-intentioned, but hapless existence.

She also makes you start referring to annoying people in traffic as fuckwits and take up using your favorite British vernacular again - like trainers, jumper, wanker and dustbin - that you picked up from a group of Irish friends in your much younger, drunken days.

But you digress...

She is good at making the Resolutions though. And eventually it all works out for her. Right? The chunky disaster of a girl gets the tall guy with the great accent. And then it snows. Right?

Oh, that's not how it really works? Bummer.

So why again should I come up with a Resolution!?!

I commented on Katie's site earlier today that I would probably choose better money and weight management as my 2008 Resolutions. But you know, those seem to be ongoing issues that I am apparently wildly unsuccessful at handling so I don't know that they really need to be put on the list. As it is, I think I have enough exercises in futility to keep me occupied until 2010.

Maybe I should choose to be less negative and critical about myself and others (including the fuckwits in traffic).

Resolutions are always so very self-involved though, so maybe I should choose something external or for the benefit of others and then maybe my other issues will fall in line on their own...

OR, maybe this is all making my very self-involved head hurt.

So maybe, for now, I just stick with Bridget.

"I choose Vodka. And Chaka Khan."

Christmas Miracle. By the Numbers.

22nd day of December

8 in the morning

1 Trip to Opry Mills ShoppingCenterOutletMallVortexofMadness

2 Hours of my life spent

1 Complete trip around the entire complex

3 Gifts purchased (and a few items for myself...)

0 Casualities or instances of muttering obsenities under my breath

God bless us, everyone.

Happy Holidays.

From the rerun of Friends last night -

Phoebe Buffay on the subject of gravity:

"I don't know... it's just lately

I get the feeling

that I'm not so much being pulled down

as I am being pushed."

Amen, Sister Phoebe. Amen.

Lights, Please...

It's now Christmastime / Advent.

It didn't start an hour after Thanksgiving dinner or even the Saturday after Thanksgiving. It started today. And if you aren't churchy or you're the kind of churchy that doesn't do Advent candles, then there's still a way for you to know.

Monday A Charlie Brown Christmas is on.

It's the unofficial start of the holiday season. There's nothing not to like about it. Here's my top five list of reasons why:

1. It's genuinely funny and doesn't dumb things down. My favorite line is from Lucy. When asked what she really wants for Christmas, she matter-of-factly says "Real estate."

2. It's very melancholy - almost sad - in parts. And who wants an overly happy Christmas special? Not me.

3. Who hasn't imitated one of the characters dancing in the play rehearsal scene??

4. It's religious without being preachy and sweet without being cheesy.

5. It has the most kick-ass soundtrack of any Christmas special. Ever.

Happy first week of Advent!

Happy All Saints Day

"Look, don't you think we're saintly?
No? Really?
Surely you must be mistaken."

Last night was a typical Halloween. A few trick-or-treaters, lots of dog barking and too much left-over Halloween candy. My jack-o-lanterns ended up being fairly cute. (A happy-faced round orange pumpkin stacked on top of a sad-faced white pumpkin). If I had a functioning camera at the moment, I would have taken a picture of them. Early on in the evening I had to put the dogs outside so that they could join the chorus of other barking dogs on my block / annoy my neighbors instead of just me.

When I finally let them in they were all riled up, what with having to run laps around the back yard to protect our land from various very scary elementary school students. So riled up in fact that they managed to wage a fairly impressive campaign of shock and awe in only about 15 minutes before they collapsed in exhaustion on the floor. It included, but was not limited to,

• knocking over my Diet Coke


• stealing and shredding the wet paper towels I used to clean up the Diet Coke


• leaping onto the ottoman in the getaway process of stealing the wet paper towels


• knocking a stack of magazines off the ottoman


• stealing and shredding a couple of the subscription reply cards that fell out of the stack of magazines


• growling and snapping at each other over who got the better subscription reply card / larger portion of wet paper towels


• jumping onto the couch with Diet Coke Paws


• yanking the laptop power cord out of the wall


• pulling the compost pail off the counter


• digging out a chunk of pumpkin from the compost pail


• racing out the dog door with treasured chunk of pumpkin so that I wouldn't take it away from them


• eating part of the chunk of pumpkin


• dropping the pumpkin left-overs in the hole in the yard for safe keeping


• coming back inside only to yak chewed-up pumpkin on the kitchen floor (and perhaps rethink the logic of the last four activities).
  

Two seconds later they were asleep in the living room and every time I got up to do something or laugh aloud at something on the TV, they'd open an eye or stick up an ear like "Hey, pipe down! We're sleepin' here!"

Today though is All Saints Day which makes Sunday, well, All Saints Sunday. It’s one of my very favorite days of the year. Why? Well, I just happened to have a list:

1. I dig Holy Days with such blatant Pagan origins/aspects.


2. I really like the concept of saints and celebrating people who have died.


3. It has the pomp and circumstance of a Christmas or Easter service without having to fight anyone for a parking space at the mall or cooking any large animals.
   
4. I get to sing one of my favorite hymns (you have to love a hymn that talks about having tea). And, in looking for the “correct” version of the lyrics online (surprisingly challenging) I came across an Episcopal blog with the lyrics and other cool posts that I’m going to have to revisit.


5. Numbers 1 & 2 really make the fundamentalists twitch so really, it’s a win-win-win situation.

So next my plan was to go on and on about something terribly profound, I'm sure, but there's a basket of leftover Halloween candy calling my name...

Candy Corn is a Gateway Drug. And Other Weekend Epiphanies...

My Weekend:

Football. It wasn't enough that our game wasn't on national TV like it normally is/should be, or that we had to play the "brunch game" at 11:30 (How can you be expected to get a respectable amount of tailgating accomplished before kick-off?). But then our defense and special teams had to just lay on the field like roadkill. Grrrr... At church on Sunday one of my favorite people (Ned) and I had a heart-to-heart about the state of Volunteer football ('cause that's what you talk about in church on Sunday in the South) and he articulated perfectly what my subconscious has known for a while:

Good-hearted, honest, loyal, kind, supportive people don't always make the best coaches.

It breaks my big orange heart, but it's true. I LOVE Phil Fulmer. There's no better example of a Tennessee Volunteer. He LOVES our state, our school, our team and each and every one of those players and coaches like they're his brothers and his kids. But lately it seems that love and devotion have become blinders, and promoting too much from within, being too slack with young guys who need more discipline, and sticking too much with tradition instead of trying new things on the field, have started to take it's toll. To every yin there's a yang and we seem to have reached the yang portion of the program. I'm not saying that we need to fire Phil and hire some vile, disgusting, obnoxious, rude, tantrum-throwing, snake-in-the-grass just because they win football games (yeah, that's right, I'm lookin' at you, Visor Boy). But something needs to change.

As you could imagine, about 30 seconds after the clock ran down, I needed an outlet for my misery that didn't involve chocolate, martinis, pasta, heroine or expensive shoes. So my SIL and I found salvation at the next best thing...

Target. Why? Because there were a lot of household items that I needed? No. Because - as all good people know - when the world is crazy and out of control and doesn't make any sense, you go where everything is clean and orderly and pretty and affordable. I've joked before that if I had all the time and money in the world I would go back to school to get a degree in film and my first student film would be a remake of Breakfast at Tiffany's titled, Diet Coke at Target.

"The only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there."
- Holly Golightly

So, that's not really a revelation from this weekend, but I'm right, no? We pushed our happy little red cart around until I felt better and along the way a few happy items happened to fall in said little red cart: adorable black tweed ballet flats, a pre-treatment stain stick thingy, dog treats, cereal, a frozen pizza, yogurt, diet coke (duh) and yet another bag of...

Candy Corn. Ahhh candy corn. I don't really even like candy (all other dessert-related items, yes, but sugary candy, not so much). Like crisp, cool air, changing leaves and college football, those cute little striped kernels are a sign of fall, my favorite season. But, alas, they are not without a dark side. I was snacking on candy corn Sunday evening while organizing kitchen cabinets and with every bite I slowly started to feel that sense of dread. You could almost hear the screeching of the violins from Psycho tuning up in the background... that impending anxiety... THE HOLIDAYS. And like candy corn, I love the holidays, but they too have a dark side. There's so many things to stress about - money, travel, shopping, decorating, entertaining, family drama, AND ESPECIALLY food. And that's when it hit me -

It all starts with the damn candy corn.

Those tiny little innocuous bits of sugary autumn goodness are fine, but all they do is give you the courage to move on to the seemingly innocuous, but actually evil, little individually wrapped trick-or-treat candy bars. And that leads to:

Thanksgiving and stuffing and casseroles and pumpkin pie and apple cobbler because what? They're FRUIT! And VEGETABLES! What's the big deal? Look - you can even see their pictures on the food pyramid. How bad could they be?!? So now you're emboldened and ready for:

Christmas. You've already been so good only eating tiny candy bars and fruits and vegetables that you eat the cookies and cake and other things you couldn't otherwise justify. Besides, if all else fails, you just have to ask,"WWJD"?!? Because I tell you what he would do - it's his birthday! He'd eat the cake. And before the sugar high can wear off, there's:

New Year's Eve. Otherwise Dick Clark would have been out of a job a long time ago because everyone would be too depressed to leave the house. But we're not done yet. You can't have sugary without salty, so to cap off the holiday season, God gives us the first of two National Observances of Salt:

New Year's Day College Football Bowl Games (and then later the Super Bowl). Chips and dip and laying on the couch, taking the stress of the last few weeks out on referees and the teams that are keeping your team down in the BCS poll. Good times.

Is there a Halloween Candy Wing at Betty Ford?