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 |   Life is rough...I have to write it out. |
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I start blogs.....I neglect blogs....I abandon blogs. I start blogs.....I neglect blogs....I abandon blogs. I started this blog....I loved this blog....I abandoned this blog. I started this blog....I loved this blog....I abandoned this blog. I guess it is a good thing I didn't actually hold my breath. |
| So my plan was different. I woke up with a clear blog post all displayed before my brain like a buffet. I quickly devoured it and was ready to spit it back out after I ran a few errands. That was my mistake. There's always a frickin mistake. Errands went badly, to say the least, and my early morning writer's high (you know like those lazy runners talk about) took a nose dive. With each thing that went wrong during my day, I found the equivalent disgusting thing inside my happy seasonal post. Then I sat down to write. That morning's feast...well it had missed its window. So instead I changed everything. I am feeling sad so I went with a sad one. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] And I know I should have gone with Judy Garland. Truly. I mean it's Dorothy. And shhh! Do you hear that? Clang clang clang went the trolley. But Frank is so much more...wistful and depressing. How do you feed insatiable sadness with Judy? You don't. And the strange thing is that the lyrics aren't strictly sad. It's just the tone and cadence. It's the hint of sadness somewhere in the song's timeline. But it feeds my monster quite nicely. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Blogging Circle of Friends Prompt Day 756 Which Christmas movie character is your favorite? I like this question. I have been doing a 12 Days of Christmas Soundtrackers Challenge and every song I choose I immediately spring into the defensive position....ready to explain why Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Elvis Presley Christmas carols are better than.....well..... everyone else's. I go old school, classic, and definitely crooner. As soon as I read today's prompt I knew that my answer was the complete opposite. At least my first choice. I cannot help myself...I just can't. My favorite Christmas show character is North from Rise of the Guardians. Yep. The children's movie from 2012. Yep. The one played by Alec Baldwin. I love him. (North not Alec. Although I don't hate Alec either.) He is the perfect Santa Claus to me. He is big and tattooed and has a slight menacing air. His accent and outfit just make me even happier. It's not a sentimental choice. It's not a classic choice. But he's a swordsman for shit's sake. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] However..I do have a second place. A choice with a bit more history to it. The Christmas special Twas the Night Before Christmas from 1974. It was on TV every year until 1994. Somewhere in that twenty year time period was my childhood. I looked forward to this weird little show every year. I loved it so much. I loved that little mouse who just really messes shit up. I loved his guilt. And damn I loved that clock. (Yeah, I was a strange little girl) So my second choice is of course Albert. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Blog City Prompt Day 284 How do you feel about home-made gifts? Do you make them yourself? Go to craft-fairs? Or do you prefer store bought gifts only? Ahhhh.....homemade gifts. I enjoy a love-hate relationship with homemade gifts. I have a cake business. I make a ton of gifts for people. If you are physically in my life, even peripherally, you can bet on getting a ton of all things sweet for Christmas and also every other holiday. Although, if I really love you, I buy you something too. So the smells coming from my kitchen mean I can't quite justify the hate side of the relationship, but it is there. I get it....I promise I do. Homemade gifts are heartfelt, they take a lot of time and effort, someone has really thought a lot about me. And I appreciate these facts, but, as someone with two little girls, you can't return homemade gifts. And that can suck. I will accept a homemade gift with gratitude that is real. And when I say I love it I am probably telling the truth. Probably.  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| A good ending to any White Christmas..... ...and just in case you weren't sure who does it best.....go ahead and ruin Mr. Crosby's version of White Christmas with mine [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] I plan on feeling fine this Christmas So hit me up if you've got blow Fill my glass with dry gin And let me know when The weed guy decides to finally show. I'm drinking tons of wine this Christmas In fact I started late last night May your hangover be easy and slight But fill all your Christmases with wine. I plan on feeling fine this Christmas So hit me up if you've got blow Fill my glass with dry gin And let me know when The weed guy decides to finally show. I'm drinking tons of wine this Christmas In fact I started late last night May your hangover be easy and slight But fill all your Christmases But fill all your Christmases But fill all your Christmases with wine! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| My second favorite Christmas carol, and it is a very very close second with the unfortunate song delegated to third, is "Baby, It's Cold Outside". And only one version will do. Any others are poor imitations even at their best. That version is this version: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] So many things are right about this song. The push and the pull. The teasing. The pleading. The sexual undertone. So many things. And that doesn't even take into account Dean and the ways he makes this song right. It is fun and playful. Her mother is going to worry and she ought to say no, no, no. And he pleads and persuades in ways you would expect to be plied by a member of the Rat Pack. It is all simply wonderful. I close my eyes and picture blushing and skirt swishing. Hooded eyes and inappropriate touches. And half the time I imagine it in glorious black and white. The problem is that much of this song ruffles the feathers of many feminists. You know, the hardcore types who relate everything to the cause (and I do mean every thing.) And don't get offended. If this is you, well.. you know it and you should own it. Regardless of the type, I am not blind to the argument. He has lines like; "Baby don't hold out" and "How can you do this thing to me?" and "Get over this hold out". He tries to fill her with alcohol. Tells her she really has no way home. Right now I am laughing because, YES, these things are clearly offensive, but it's a Christmas carol. You are ruining this lovely winter song for me. I do know that men cannot pressure me into things. I do know that I should not feel that I need to protect myself from such persuasion (and trust me...I'm pretty self-confident. You aren't persuading me to do anything just because it's hanging low and to the left.) And I understand that we shouldn't be putting this behavior into the subconscious of our impressionable sons and daughters. And for the super intense ones...I get it...she shouldn't be ashamed to want to stay and fly her freak flag. How dare Christmas slut shame this girl. But come on. Come on. COME ON. Damn. I don't apologize for enjoying something that came from an outdated era. Most of us know better now, don't insult my intelligence by implying that a song will brainwash me into thinking otherwise. I don't apologize for employing outdated gender roles in my home sometimes. I don't want to take out the trash. I just don't want to - let that be his responsibility. But I am a stay at home mom so some things ARE my responsibility, you know like cleaning and cooking. You are allowed to be a female who cleans and cooks because you have a job outside the home? And I certainly don't apologize for knowing something is bad and enjoying it anyway. Remember yesterday when you ate that doughnut before commenting on obese America? COME ON. (And..uh...not to mention....who are you to ask me to feel bad for and want to change absolutely anything anyway??) Stop ruining the wonderful picture of gray scale innocence that Dean is trying to give me. I mean, he's right, I really must stay. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| That first freaking day of Christmas My children gave to me, SO much work on our tree. The second long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 2 forced hugs, and SO much work on our tree. The third long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 3 almost wins, 2 forced hugs, and SO much work on our tree. The fourth long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 4 dirty words, 3 almost wins, 2 forced hugs, and SO much work on our tree. The fifth long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words, 3 almost wins, 2 forced hugs, and SO much work on our tree. The sixth long day of Christmas, My children gave to me, 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. The seventh long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 7 dolls' hair trimmings 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. The eighth long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 8 infant milkings 7 dolls' hair trimmings 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. The ninth long day of Christmas My children gave to me, 9 dirty glances 8 infant milkings 7 dolls' hair trimmings 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. The tenth damn day of Christmas My children gave to me, 10 minutes of weeping 9 dirty glances 8 infant milkings 7 dolls' hair trimmings 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. The almost last day of Christmas My children gave to me, 11 whiny gripings, 10 minutes of weeping 9 dirty glances 8 infant milkings 7 dolls' hair trimmings 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. The final freaking day of Christmas My children gave to me, 12 more friends coming, 11 whiny gripings, 10 minutes of weeping 9 dirty glances 8 infant milkings 7 dolls' hair trimmings 6 "I'm just saying"s, 5 nasty things!!! 4 dirty words 3 almost wins 2 forced hugs and SO much work on our tree. I love Christmas.....and my children. I promise. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] One of my two favorite Christmas carols is Silent Night. Not new-fangled fancy versions, but just a simple Silent Night. The very first notes make me smile and bring me joy which, so often, are things I rush through or sabotage. I am so far from religious I can't even see the steeple from over here, yet ever since I was a little girl this song has spoken to me in a deep unknown way. A way I don't even need to try to understand, I just enjoy. Hearing this carol immediately calms the rough ass waters my gluttonous mind cannot help but steer into. I alternated between singing and humming Silent Night to my first child in moments of peace and bonding, switching to humming often to avoid frightening a fresh little soul with the worst singing voice she will likely ever encounter. My second daughter is now approaching her first Christmas and my sappy self wants to cry just talking about the song, despite the fact that she has prevented a truly silent night this entire year. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Breathe a huge sigh of relief...my room is clean. I have been living like a hoarder. A full on television style, turn to the side and shimmy through my path hoarder. And it happened in an instant. One moment I was decorating for Christmas and then a week had passed and my bedroom had become some weird holding zone for all things deemed not jolly enough. And then I blinked. Remind me not to do that anymore because after I blinked another week had passed and my mess had begun to grow UP instead of out. I began to hear, from my daughter, that there were no clean panties, no clean socks. And I would defensively make a remark about being the only person to do laundry and what do they expect of me, the whole time knowing that at least 40 pair of Lalaloopsy, Frozen, and Monster High panties were in my room. That every sock we own, each believing it had lost its mate, was holed up in miscellaneous places just fifteen feet down the hall. Every other room in this house was perfect. More so than ever before. After all... there is a six year old, 11 month old, and a little boy disguised as my husband living here. It sparkled with seasonal decor and freshly dusted surfaces. But the last room on the right was a disaster zone. I forced myself to do it. Knowing there were things deep in that mess...the original occupants of that particular space....that I would need definitely helped, but more so....I am staring down the barrel of teacher gifts and girl scout parties to prepare. So I can take a breath. I can sit without guilt. I can eat without silently making lists. I can look at my Christmas tree without feeling my dirty little secret looking over my shoulder. But alas, only for today because for every clean piece of clothing that was sequestered to my bedroom there is one dirty in my hamper. |
| I wonder what the six people who have viewed this blog since its conception thought about the fact that it had no entries and a description warning against that very thing? Ohh, the self-disappointment. |
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