Not A Creature Was Stirring

There are houses in my neighborhood that already have Christmas trees up.

Let me repeat that.

THERE ARE HOUSES IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD THAT ALREADY HAVE CHRISTMAS TREES UP!!!!

There are lights and baby Jesus' and an all to premature feeling of peace on earth.

It's bad enough that retailers are pulling this crap. Are these neighbors trying to sell me something???

I spent yesterday painting for ten frickin' hours, painting over the stairs with a five foot pole that looked like a whale proctology tool. I then uncrimped my back and shoulders and took the dogs out for a walk and discovered that yes, unto this day a child was born. Should I ever find that I can no longer afford my house, it's obvious to me that there is a kind hearted neighbor that is willing to go the extra mile and even before the Thanksgiving turkey is carved, he will pimp out a manger and take in any chick knocked up by a deity.

Now I just need to start tarting myself up for God.

Yeah, that last sentence is a sure fire trip to hell...I'm ok with that. It's where all my friends will be!

The Christmas thing is coming man...I can sense it in the air, I can taste it on the wind, and I can hear it on the damn radio with their crazy assed carols already.

I realized yesterday that I'm playing into the whole holiday thing and I didn't even realize it. Some people lose their socks to the dryer monster, we seem to be losing our spoons. A few months ago, I realized that our forks seemed to be disappearing. Now? Spoons. They are not lodged in the dishwasher. They are not lost in the back of the silverware drawer. They have simply disappeared.

So around here, we are reliving the Night Before Christmas. Not a creature is stirring.

Not stirring our coffee.

Not stirring our soup.

Not stirring our cereal.

We are all very still at the moment.

Paint Paint Everywhere

The dog has paint on his ear.

The cat has paint on his tail.

The second I pen the dogs up in the kitchen and give them the talk regarding behavior and civic duty, the cat goes springing over the gate and flying through the wet doorway. Cats do not honor any thoughts of civic responsibility. When the zombie apocalypse happens and you're rallying your friends and neighbors, your cat will be in the corner plotting which of you it will cannibalize first.

Yesterday, I also had to wash my hair and deal with the fact that the entire back of my head had paint on it. Never let a klutzy person paint in a confined space. Better yet, never let a klutzy person paint.

I do not paint responsively. I'm sort of like an epileptic with a home decorating fetish.

For all the drama and trauma though, I am very nearly ready to declare two whole rooms painted. There are still a few touch ups that need to be done but nothing that will take over an hour in its entirety.

This evening, my goal is to hang my curtains back up in my dining room. That doesn't sound like a monumental goal until I look back and realize that I haven't had curtains hanging up in my dining room since before March 8th.

Over eight months of interior disarray.

I won't be posting photos of the goodness because I have made the determination that when my daughter comes home for the holidays, I want to surprise her with how it all looks.

YES! I HAVE BOOKED HER FLIGHT!

I was able to thank everyone with a note that donated to her airline travel fund except for one person who donated anonymously. I'd like to thank that person here and now.

She will be coming in on the 22nd of December and leaving on New Years Day. We aren't planning on doing anything special and we aren't going to have a tree or presents (no, I am not asking for a tree or presents...don't worry...) but we are going to have each other.

And a house with a kick ass paint job!

Holly Jolly Labor Day

Happy Labor Day. Hopefully you're celebrating it by non-laboring.

I'm discovering that spending 80% of my time lying down with a squiffy gut makes me feel lazy. Then I get up and do stuff and I feel shaky and sweaty. Then I lay down and feel lazy again.

Hooorah! It's been a FABULOUS long weekend. I won't even begin to describe the newest aspects of my GI issues. Suffice it to say, I'm wondering what size adult diapers I should buy because the constant laundering is getting me down.

I did manage to force myself out into the garage and down to the basement for some more cleaning.

I have eliminated all Christmas decorations from my house except for one strand of lights. I'm thinking about stringing them around my head and plugging myself in for cheap and exciting evenings at home.

I am the sole reason why the republicans bitch about the liberal "war on Christmas".

Many decorations belonged to STBX's family. Some came to us as gifts, some as inheritance, all had baggage.

I always did a good Christmas when the kids were little but as they got older and I became so incredibly annoyed with the materialistic aspects of the holiday, I toned it down so much that it ends up being a lot like any other day. The hallmark of our Christmas is homemade cinnamon rolls and a nice big meal and spending time together.

The fact that life fell of a cliff last year on December 19th also comes into play here. No matter how much I try to separate personal experiences from holidays, I just can't. We didn't celebrate Christmas last year. We huddled in a bunker with shell shock.

Mother's Day? Not a fan. Father's Day? Don't make me laugh. Valentines Day? Love ones died on Valentines Day. Not feeling particularly festive. Groundhogs Day? I think that rodent is a lying rat-bastard.

And Christmas? Christmas is a box of decorations for Goodwill. It is an empty house and a hollow heart. It is society telling me I NEED TO BE HAPPY when that is the last thing that I feel. It's a culture that says "This is the time of year when you need to be kind to strangers and do good things for your fellow human beings" when that is what we should all do every day, not just when it's fashionable.

Goodwill has the last of the decorations that are salable. The garbage man has the ones that are junk. Funnily enough, two houses down had their garbage out and there were Christmas lights spilling out of their trash can as well. I wanted to go up and knock on their door and ask them "So, what's your story?"

*Added later: This was my daughter's drawing last Christmas eve. Yeah, it pretty much sums up our lives at that moment:

Nothing to do with the above by *mshizuko on deviantART

Like Christmas, Only Without All The Poop

I feel like I did when I was a kid at Christmas. The election is less than a week away and I have never been more excited, stressed, doubtful, or exuberant. The analogy to Christmas is very accurate as I was born with a recessive Jewish gene and any little comment made by my family would send me into paroxysms of concern. While the adults in my life thought it would be funny to plant the seeds of doubt in my mind, "I don't know...do you REALLY think you were good enough to get something from Santa?", I spent at least two weeks leading up to Christmas going over every single deed I had done over the past 364 days and wondering if there was even an outside chance that Santa would find me worthy. (Yeah, hey adults, when your kid has massive self esteem issues, it's best to let that sleeping dog lie when it comes to the holidays.)

Needless to say, Christmas eve memories for me revolve around enormous stomach aches and the impending doom a child feels when they discover that not only do they have explosive diarrhea, they are also wearing footed pajamas and their body length zipper has jammed three inches below their chin. Oh yeah! Good times!

So I am waiting waiting waiting to vote. I refuse to vote early. I refuse to vote absentee. I don't care if it takes me five hours to wait in the church basement surrounded by blue haired old ladies that have to constantly adjust their bifocals in order to squint out the fact that I am registered in the big book of all that is holy and wonderful. I will pull out a lighter, hold it above my head, and sway to the undulations of the crowd. I will live in the moment.

Nothing irks me more than people that don't vote. This year, I've been surrounded by so many people that are mobilizing new voters, convincing people that yes, their votes DO count, and working hard to overcome all the media attention that swirls around votes that don't get counted. Maybe I'm living in a bubble, but I'm feeling so many positive vibes this election that I'm not only looking foreward to the results, I'm looking foreward to the process.

Also, for the first time since I worked on a political campaign at the tender age of 12, I want to seek out company for election night. I want to celebrate or cry with a group of people that understand, in the soft ionic curl curl of their soul, what I am trying so inadequately to verbalize.

Plus, it's never fun to soak your head in cheap champagne alone. That, my friends, is a job for Jack Daniels.