Arthur! It's a YULETIDE!*

*If anyone knows that reference, I will certainly die of happiness. Indeed, I will.



GUYS! CHRISTMAS IS COMING! IT'S PRACTICALLY HERE!

Do you know that I love Christmas? Do you know that I love decking the halls and baking and singing and ho,ho,ho-ing? Do you know that I love Christmas sweaters? Did you happen to know I love mistletoe and poinsettias and White Christmas? Have you heard how much I love blasting Elvis's Christmas album in my car? Did you see the wreath on my door? And on my car? Did you see my three Christmas trees? Do you know how I delight in the Christmas movies? Especially the ridiculous ones? Do you know how I love the ribbons? The wrappings? The tags and the tinsel? The trimmings? The trappings?


But guess what is my very favorite of it all.


I desperately love giving presents. I love buying them. I really love wrapping them. And, most of all, I love not being able to sit still for days and days because I'm so excited to give them. Every year I tell myself that I'm going to keep everything a secret until Christmas so people are surprised but then, two weeks before Christmas, I find myself sending texts reading yelling "I JUST GOT YOUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT AND IT IS SO AWESOME AND I CAN'T WAIT TO GIVE IT TO YOU AND CAN I COME OVER NOW PLEASE?"


(Have you heard that I am sometimes a little dramatic?)



This year, because I like to torture myself and because I am a perennial over-achiever on things that don't matter and under-achiever on everything else, I've decided to do 100% homemade presents (well, 98% homemade because I don't know how to make nail polish and that gift simply needed it).

It was so much fun because I got to be off-the-walls excited three times: when I decided what to make, when I made it and then when I had to wait impatiently to give them away. It. was. awesome.

Here are a few that I've been super-excited about:

Lavender and gardenia soaps for the ladies at church.

Bath salts for friends.

Peppermint fudge for the neighbors.

Energizing sugar scrubs for the roommies.

A fleece Dodgers blanket for a friend.

Cake pops for my Visiting Teachers.

Treat bags for the staff at work.

What's this? A book?

Not so! It's a totally awesome secret hiding place for stuff and also bonus gifts inside!

Recipe books for the ladies at work.

A set of totally kick-a playlists* for Dad.

I'm having way too much fun**. Who else is insane this holiday season? Anyone?

---

*Benji Hughes, Bright Eyes, Pavement, Menomena, the Old 97s, The Head and the Heart, God Help the Girl, The Cure, Coconut Records, Bob Dylan, The Explorers Club and Wilco? And the award for Daughter of the Year goes to . . . 



**Interesting conversation with roommate this week:
Me: Aww! This is so cute! Come look!
Her: Geez! Every time you make anything you're like 'Come look at this! It's cute!' Are you really that starved for attention?
Me: Oh. I'm sorry. I'm just really excited.
Literally 30 seconds later . . .
Me: THIS IS SO CUTE! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!

An embarrassing thing

One time I was in a business meeting and I was eating raspberry yogurt.

Why? I don't know. But, anyway, I was.

So we were sitting around talking about business-y things and I was just sitting there slurping away at that Dannon Light & Fit when a medium-sized blob of raspberry yogurt dropped off my spoon and onto my forearm. It quivered there for a bit, that delightfully tangy spot of purple, and when I saw it I knew what must be done.

So what do you think I did with that rogue raspberry blob?


a) wiped it away with a napkin

b) wiped it away with a napkin

c) raised my arm to my mouth and licked it off, momentarily forgetting that I was in a Professional Business Setting and also that I am not an animal and am not allowed to lick myself in public and when I looked up I found every eye in the room trained on me and every face expressing the same thought and that thought was, "Is that chick licking her arm?" and now whenever I see these people I wonder if they're thinking about that one time that I licked my arm in a meeting even though it happened like two years ago but, come on, that's kind of a hard thing to forget and so I bet they still think about it.

Lessons from Madeline

I kicked it with my three-year-old niece, Maddie, over Thanksgiving and learned a lot about life from her.

Lesson #1: If you feel like a princess, well you go right ahead and tell everyone so. And there's no shame in wearing a crown out to dinner if that's what you like. Just go be you, princess.

Lesson #2: Sometimes you have big mountains to climb and it's always a little easier when you've got a hand to hold.

Lesson #3: Bedtimes are for sissies. (If they can't find you, they can't put you to bed.)

Lesson #4: There's always time for dancing. (And Oreos.)

By way of explaination . . .

My office is kept at an approximate 40 degrees most days which means the long hours I spend in my stupid ice cave at my stupid ice desk are some of the most miserable hours ever spent in the history of spent hours.  

(Would you like a little cheese with your whine?)

And that's why I keep these little numbers (given to me by my dearest aunt) in my desk for those chilly days.

And also why I was hugging the copier this morning as it was warming up.








Just . . . . wanted to explain.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Let us rise up and be thankful,

for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little,

and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick,
and if we got sick, at least we didn't die;

so, let us all be thankful.

~Buddha

My cup runneth over.

For food in a world where many walk in hunger,

For friends in a world where many walk alone,

I am ever, ever thankful.





(Also for pie.)

The first time I watched this, all I could squeak out was, "The eyebrows! Oh, the eyebrows!"

I can't figure out if this really is as funny as I think it is or if I'm just laughing because I'm pretty sure this is exactly how I look when I listen to hip-hop.

Gretchen + Kim + enclosed space + 3 hours + paint fumes = FUN!

I have lived in my current house for two-and-a-half years.

I have hated the color of the bathroom for two-and-a-half years.

I have talked about painting the bathroom for two-and-a-half years.

Last weekend, we painted the bathroom.

It's pretty awesome.

Please excuse the makeshift window treatment. I haven't gotten around to actually sewing the curtain so it's just the material draped over the rod. This is how we keep things classy.

Oh, except is it driving you crazy that the shade of the wall is slightly off from the color of the shower curtain? Yeah, I know. This weekend I learned an important lesson called Don't Try to Pick Out Paint Colors From Memory and also Learn How to Live With Things That Aren't a Big Deal and maybe The Value of a Dollar Because You Aren't Buying a New Shower Curtain 'Cause This One is Perfectly Fine.


I also learned Don't Step Backward When You're Standing On The Counter Right in Front of the Can of Paint and When You Have Paint on Your Foot Don't Continue Walking Around the Counter.

 

P.S. This weekend we also watched An Affair to Remember and Gretchen mocked me for crying at the end! She claims she's never cried over that movie. I think it's now clear that I live with a cyborg with a COLD, BLACK HEART OF STONE. And now the question is, what should I do about that?

This ol' brain o' mine . . .

So do you remember how I keep a notebook and pen by my bed so I can write down all the fabulous ideas I have during the night? Yeah? Well, this is what I woke to this morning:

If you can't read my half-asleep scrawl, this reads "The great ABOMINABLE graham cracker man!!"

I stared at this page for about ten minutes this morning wondering what the crap I thought was so funny about this at 2 am. Also, who else is impressed that I spelled "abominable" correctly in the middle of the night in the dark? 

How to make chili: a step-by-step guide.

Step one: gather ingredients.

You will need chiles . . . 

 

(lots of chiles)

meat . . .

 

 (lots of meat)

bacon . . .

  

(lots of bacon)

onions . . . 

(lots of onions)

garlic . . .

(lots of garlic) 

and some other stuff.

Step two: cook it all.

Ta-dah! You now have chili!