Don't Shoot Me Santa Claus, Well No One Else Around Believes Me

The Lego advent calendars are a lot like me this year -- out of their fucking mind and completely random.

Let's take a few minutes to get caught up....


I think this is suppose to be a stoplight. But in a really cheap, pathetic kind of way.


This here is Roger, your friendly street cleaner. And registered sexual predator.


Uh-oh! Someone forgot to clean up their doggy doo even though it was right by the proper receptacle!


And an um... um... recycling bin?

And for the princess set...


Hello Mister Teddy Bear! Um... whatcha shovelin'?


After Mister Teddy Bear finishes shoveling whatever the hell he's shoveling, he likes to relax with a beautiful lemon centerpiece surrounded by floating candles. Because he wants to sex you up.


A puppy with a drumstick. Because, you know, chicken bones are GREAT for dogs.


Oh hell. I don't know anymore.

On a completely different note, I feel this is something everyone should watch. It takes just over 20 minutes and most if it is information I already knew. But still, the more often we hear it the more difference it will make (although, it totally makes me feel bad even though I've managed to reduce the waste from our home from three huge plastic garbage cans a week to one).

(PS - the gluten-free sugar cookie recipe is posted!)

Truth is I Love You More Than I Wanted to, There's No Point in Trying to Pretend

I've always wanted to have an handmade holiday. You know, where everyone actually makes stuff instead of running to the mall and racking up credit bills.

Well, life can't be ideal but I have managed not to step a single foot into the mall this holiday season. In fact, the only times I've been in the mall at all this year was to buy the boys shoes for their freakishly extra wide feet.

There's been a fine line of consumerism and handmade here. Trying to find a balance. I feel as though my life has very little balance, it's really something I need to work on.

In any case, I managed to make a few things for the holidays...


These tissue holders are on their way to Michigan for Aaron's mom and grandmothers.

This is when your family's absolute resolve to never lay eyes on your weblog is a blessing. You get to share pictures whenever the hell you feel like it.

These tissue holders hold those Puffs to Go tissues. It took a few tries to get them the right dimensions. I wanted a full pack to be completely covered in fabric, because who wants to reach into their bag and pull out a nasty linty, crumby tissue? There's tutorials all over the place (if you don't know how to make one, Jo's tutorial is awesome; just look in her sidebar for the link). I changed my fabric dimensions to 7 x 9 1/2 inches with a quarter-inch seam allowance.

(And my lining fabrics were damn cute, I may add. I just couldn't figure out how to take a decent picture that also showed the linings.)

As I was wrapping and boxing items for shipping I realized that I had only got one child a sticker book. As I was standing there looking out it, I was disappointed. Just a sticker book? How the hell can I wrap this so it's cute and won't get ripped?

Twenty minutes later I had this...


Honestly, I don't know what the fuck happened to me. Since when do I run downstairs and whip out a magazine bag in 20 minutes? Seriously. What the fuck is happening to me?


And hell no, that's not linen. I barely splurge on linen for myself. The outside fabric is mostly a (very thin) organic, unbleached cotton dishtowel from Tarjay.

So far that's all I have that is handmade. Really, I wish I had more of an opportunity to hear my sewing machine sing but I'm trying to be happy with what I'm capable of doing without pulling my hair out. Because no one wants to see me with a horrible hair cut again.

Don't Judge Me and I Won't Judge You

I'm having a difficult time. Aaron is out of town, won't be back till Saturday. Yesterday was a mad rush to get presents boxed up and shipped out. Going to the post office with two children and three heavy boxes one week before Christmas is a special kind of hell.

My house is a wreck, Darwin still refuses to potty train and Goddess have mercy his diapers are gross. Griffin magically has explosive poop and I can't find my kitchen counters from all the glitter.

I went to Griffin's "winter" party at his (public) school and his teacher was blaring O Little Town of Bethlehem complete with when Chr-r-r-ri-i-i-ist our Savior was born. And I'm all are you fucking kidding me with this shit? I don't give a fuck if we do live in Kansas. I don't want my delicate little UU child hearing that.

(Oh yes, it's official: we joined a "church" this year. I always put church in quotes in regards to Unitarian Universalist because really? It's not church. It's more like, let's understand each other and build a community and be respectful to each other's souls and beliefs. It rocks.)

Now, don't get me wrong -- I'm all about people choosing to believing what they want to believe and there is a time and a place for people to teach about religion and public schools is not the place for my child to be learning about the sweet baby Jesus.

I think one of the hardest things for me during the holiday season, besides Aaron's constant traveling and the disgusting consumerism, is the fact that people suddenly become entitled to shove religion down my throat.

You believe in God? Great!

You think Jesus was sent to die for our sins? Hallelujah!

You get offended because I say "Happy holidays!" instead of "Merry Christmas!"? FUCK OFF.

And please, dear readers, do not think I am ripping you a new one. I've never once had a conversation with anyone who reads this site who wasn't respectful of the fact that I don't worship Jesus Christ forever and ever, amen.

My anger is against the people in the stores, in the produce isle, the teachers in the public school system.

It's very tiring to be respectful of your religion, especially when you are not being respectful of the fact that I'm not Christian.

Perhaps it's because I'm in Kansas. Perhaps it's because I was born Catholic and raised Southern Baptist. Perhaps it's because I actually pay attention to the world outside my door and guess what?

It's fucking harsh out there.

What happened to humanity, respect and acceptance? Isn't that what Christians are suppose to do? Would it be more forgivable if I were Jewish? Muslim? A more-practicing Buddhist?

I wished someone "Happy Hanukkah" after they wished me "Merry Christmas" and you would have though I smacked her across the face.

Seriously? Seriously? This is the world I live in? Zero intolerance for anyone who isn't exactly like you?

Is it fear? What is it that makes the people around me so damn upset that I choose not to worship their Jesus?

It's Better Than Any Alcohol or Afrodesiac

It's apparently clear: I'm Scrooge-ish.

Well, the female version, of course. Who gets laid and still acts like that. I'm all pissy and mean and frankly? I just want the holidays to go the fuck away already. Because I'm a Scrooge.

These didn't even help.


Oh no. Nuh-huh. Couldn't have those gluten-free sugar cookies lifting my spirits. Hellz no, I bitched about all the effort they required.

(Recipe soon!)

These aren't helping either...


Instead I'm bitching about the glitter all over my counters. Oh, and I have nine sets to glitter and I've only done two. AND the glitter glue was too fucking thick.

And the Legos? Oh my hell, the Legos. Seriously, they must be having some serious bong hittin' over there to come up with these fucked up ideas. I can't even figure out a story line anymore.



A suitcase and flag (Saturday's), a fireplace (A FIREPLACE) (Sunday's) and a book, jewel in a fish tank and a frog (today's).

Holy fuck.


A self-scanner/register (hello, this has been brought to you by the Home Depot, where we don't have fucking employees, just shitty-ass machines) (Saturday's), an airline pilot (because, you know, getting stuck at the airport is FESTIVE) (Sunday's) and some sort of clock tower (today's).

Oh, and did you know? Ali tagged me as being nutty.


Really, I haven't a clue (haven't a clue at all) why she'd do such a thing (no idea, really) but I shall tag Estea.

Whoa, We're Halfway There

The Lego Advent Calendars are making me cry. Me. The one with the foul-mouthed-twisted-sense-of-humor.

Ah, well.


And oh my hell, these are making my hands hurt.

I've come to the startling conclusion that I'm not superwoman and all those things I had planning on making for holidays just aren't going to pan out. Personally, I blame Target.

Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now.

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"I ho, I ho, It's off to collect a paycheck I go..."


"Hey there, Whiskers. You okay?'

"Duuuuuuuuud-ah. You have no idea."

"You been hittin' the pipe again?"


"Hells yeah."

"Nice. Where'd you get your stuff?"


"Dude, I grow my own."

[I find it rather sick and perverted that I don't smoke or do drugs and this is where I'm making the story go.]

[I wonder if I'd have more readers if I didn't make my Legos hit the pipe.]

"You want some Abbie? For your trip?"

"Maybe on my way back?"

"Dude, your lost."


"Snowperson? You are not allowed to be here."

"What?"

"We're now drilling the arctic circle. Georgie boy authorized it."

"But... but... the United States don't own this land."

"Hasn't stopped us before. Now, walk away or I'll have you removed. Or, disassembled or something."


"Whew. That was close. We can't be found out. But man..."


"... I gotta hit the head."

Aw, Sometimes I Grow So Tired But I Know I've Got One Thing I Got to Do -- A-Ramble On

Once again, our power kept flickering off yesterday.

Aaron also got sent out of town.

::sigh::


Today our internet connection went out for seven hours.


I kept trying to remind myself at least I had heat, lights and no spoiled food.

But no internets?

Whew. That was a tough one.


So I got some holiday shopping done. And I swear to Goddess, these dumbasses that work in upscale kitchen retail stores need to learn the fucking difference between a tea pot and a tea kettle. That should be added to their training. Perhaps it could replace How to Talk Down to Your Customers 101. Or maybe How Not to Apologize to Customers and Continue a Snotty Attitude 201. And perhaps they should add a class titled How to Remove a Can of Whoopass Given to You by an Irate Customer.

I Hear the Competition's Tough, Baby That's a Pity

So, ice storm.

Well, it's not as bad as it the one six years ago where we lost power for a week but this storm isn't over yet. We have at least six more hours of freezing rain expected.


Aaron's flight this morning got canceled so they booked him on a later one, which got canceled. So then they booked him on an even later one and that one got canceled. And now the storm we got this past weekend is hitting where he's suppose to be traveling to so basically we don't know anything, other than the fact that his bosses are willing to sacrifice his safety in order to provide the best customer service possible.

Additionally, Aaron went into work this morning and his company didn't have power so they ran on a backup generator until that died two hours later and now he's at home. We have power but it's touch and go, which makes being on the internet a bitch because the router takes over ten minutes to reboot and guess what? Then the power flickers off again.

Additionally, our telephone lines are about to fall - they are in our backyard caked with ice and a tree is leaning over them, also caked with ice, so they are hanging low and stretched as much as possible.

If you don't hear from me for a week send gluten-free chocolates and fabric.

My neighbors across the street don't have power and burning wood in their fireplace. Wood that is making too much smoke. The last time they did this (yes, six years ago) they caught their house on fire and got a big fat remodeling check and got granite counters in the their kitchen. Bastards.

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"Follow me, Holly. I will take you to safety."

"Oh, okay... ::giggle::"


"Hey, Abbie? What is that?"

"Fuck if I know, Holly. Fuck if I know."



"Look Abbie! A castle! Oh... well, a turret at least..."

"Yes, Holly. This is your places of safety..."


"Wait! Abbie! Wait! You can't leave me in here! Abbie? Abbie!"

Now All Those Simple Things Are Simply Too Complicated for My Life

Oh my hell. This post took forever to load up today. My apologize to my friends till on dial-up.

Um, does dial-up still exist?

On Saturday I braved the ice storm to go find a silver ornament to participate in Stacy's photo challenge.

Well, I had a doctor's appointment anyway. I'll blame my sliding around on the roads that day on the doctor.


Hmmmm... me thinks this is going to take some work. If I use the flash everything washes out, if I don't use the flash the images are blurry.

Dear Santa, please bring me a digital SLR. I'm not picky, just something that will do what I want when I want it.

And while your at it, can you program my children to act the same way?

Love,


Me.

(That's for my friend who claims to no longer remember what I look like. Geesh.)

Tonight the weather people are calling for an even worse ice storm than the one we experienced from Friday night through Sunday afternoon.

Living in Kansas is a bitch, y'all.

Tonight we are supposedly getting a full inch of ice and possibly power outages. The last time we had it this bad I was eight months pregnant with Griffin and we lost power for seven days. I spent those seven days holed up in the basement with our old-school, doesn't-really-put-out-much-heat gas fireplace. And if that happens again I'M FUCKED because our basement is a DISASTER and I still haven't cleaned out all the kitty dander.

Dear Santa,

Please don't let me lose my power.

Love,
Me

Also, Aaron's suppose to go on a week-long business trip tomorrow morning.

Again with the I'm fucked.

So this brings up a good dilemma of should I cook all my chicken, ground bison and Italian sausage today? Or should I be a rebel and hope for the best?

Does anyone wanna come over and micro-manage my life? Anyone?

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"Over and out, JimBob. I've got the decoy and I'm headed over."


"Hey Baby Pickles... do you know how to work this? No? Damn it..."


"What the - "


"Oh no!"


"Run! Aborting the mission! Run!"



"Thanks Baby Pickles. Oh look, your magical poop is helping me get reception!"


"Hmmm... I've never seen a vehicle such as this before. How's this suppose to help me?"


"Whhhhhheeeeeee!!!"


"Hi! I'm Holly. I need some help."

"I've been waiting for you, Holly. I'm the Abominable Snowman..."


Meanwhile... "Oh wow... look what I found...."

There is No Sense in Pretendin', Your Eyes Give You Away

"So, sweetheart, what do you say we got get us a little snack..."

"Oh yes, that sounds lovely!"

"How does tea and crumpets sound?"

"Perfect!


"Oh... look at that... you even have a flashing light pointing to it."

"Yeah, doll, anything for you..."


"And look at that... your tea set looks just like mine..."


"Oh shit! I gotta get out of here"! POOF!


"Now how do I work this thing? Damn it. It's been so long since I've had to call my authorities..."


"Ten-four, Slasher, I've got a visual on the crazy bitch with silver lips..."