Thursday, December 31, 2009

~Fuck you 2009

For reasons, which will go left unsaid. Mainly, so that you don't leave here today thinking, "geez...she's a whiny ass Whiner McWhinerson". None the less, let it be known, near and far across this land, that I am absofuckinglootly thrilled that 2009 is going bye-bye.

I know I'm not alone in giving an entire year the finger. It's been rough for many of the folks I know. You name the area of life and I know someone who has had some issues in that department in '09.

But at the stroke of midnight that's all over baaaaaaby!!! A kiss, some champagne and I'm flippin' the switch. My mantra going into a new year is; "new year, new mojo". Say it with me...NEW YEAR, NEW MOJO! There it's 'out there'.

I'm taking twenty 10 by the balls kids. By. The. Balls. Nothing radical like a resolution in the making or anything. (I don't believe in resolutions. When people ask, I tell them my resolution is to make no resolutions. Hell, at least I know 3 months from now I won't have to feel guilty because I didn't live up to some unrealistic self set expectation. That alone makes not making a resolution worth it.) But rest assured some things are going to be shaken up and capitalized on in '10. For starters, I may (or may not) have just thought up my million dollar idea. While I've never officially invented anything, who says I can't? Just because I haven't done something doesn't mean I'm incapable of doing so, right? I'll keep you up on this as it evolves.

Before the ringin' in o' the new year, here's a wee recap of random things that happened in '09:

-First manicure
-Danced (a term applied extraordinarily loosely in my case) with a man with a ponytail (braided, none the less!!) down to his ass. Thus causing me to use his ponytail like horse reigns and whip his ass. What? Like you didn't do that...
-Introduced the usage of the term "Baldwins". As in; "I was over there chattin' with the Baldwins", when referring to a grouping of multiple bald men.
-Got some new lives to corrupt. Welcome to the world Lily & Jack!
-Diagnosed my mothers recently discovered illness. During my initial conversation with the doctor I asked if it could be x. He assured me that no, it could not be x. Three days, 5,076 tests later and he determined that she has, you guessed it, x. This was one occasion I certainly hated being right.
-Papa became bionic with a newly installed pacemaker. Not quite the $6 million dollar man, but that's ok, he's priceless to me.
-Gaudy, tacky magnet collection increased with acquisition of Beijing and Prague.
-Made a table

-Performed an amazing, considering my actual skill level of handyness, half bath redo.

  • Cue angels singing

-Painted the living room, kitchen, my bedroom, the upstairs bathroom and downstairs tv room.
-Installed flooring in basement. ...Yeah, I got all kindz a Bob Villa in '09.

-I asked if deer have wishbones. I'm not proud. It was my own lil' Jessica Simpson, 'chicken of the sea' moment. (Why, oh why is there no wayback machine?!? We're a land that has given us Tang, Stretch Armstrong and The Bangles, how can it be that we haven't created an undo button for life's lil' mishaps?)
-For yet another year, continued to be disappointed that there is no wayback machine.

I guess that's about it... Kinda sad, no? And now I think you understand why I'm so pleased to see zero-niner to be put away.

NEW YEAR, NEW MOJO!! Bring it.


Wednesday, December 30, 2009

~Literally. It's happenin'. Tomorrow.

In addition to it being New Year's Eve, tomorrow also brings us a bluuuuuuuuuue moon. If you don't catch this one the next NYE blue moon isn't due until 2028. The infrequent blue moon is the second full moon of a calendar month. In '10 it will happen again in January, February and March. Then that's it until 2014. Not earth shattering, but admit it, you're glad you know, aren'tcha?


Tuesday, December 29, 2009

~An open letter to TSA, FFA and anyone else charged with keeping my ass safe when I fly:

Soooooooo, now I can't use the undersized closet airlines pass off as restrooms for the last 60 minutes of a flight? Really? Because some dumbass, would be terrorist picked this time period to attempt his dastardly deed. Isn't the real issue the fact that this cat was able to get explosives on the plane...and not the moment of time during the flight he decided to give his plan a whirl? Is that a possibility?!?

No movement in the cabin from an hour out of the destination is arbitrary and does not address the real safety issues involved in this event.

Listen, I try to be understanding and patient as I jump through some of your wackadoo hoops. Shoes off. (check) No drinks. (check) Jacket off. (check) ...Although this always makes me think, 'what fuckin' kinda LightBrite detector are you using that it wouldn't pick something up under fabric for heavens sakes'? I mean, shouldn't those things be able to suss out contraband under much more stringent and challenging circumstances than that of my black crepe blazer?

I'm of an indeterminate (to others) brown hue, and in the past several years I've grown accustomed to being "randomly selected" from the crowd for a pat down search. Even when I'm being profiled, I'm pleased enough to be compliant and courteous to the agents. They're just doin' their job. And there job is to help keep all of us safe. My parents were police officers, so I sware, I get what your goal is, the obstacles and stress it brings ya. I really do. As a flier, I'm down with that mission. Hell, I'm even grateful for it. Yes. Even when it's inconvenient to me. Please don't take me as a run of the mill contrarian. I'm a average chick traveler. I'm not a safety, security or terrorist expert. Just some girl riding an air taxi to and fro. But even without the benefit of being in your profession, I think you'd do well to contemplate this point; I believe one of the biggest issues is the lack of full body scanners and infrequent use of explosive detecting dogs in the majority of airports across the nation, let alone around the globe. Maybe we follow the quick assessment and weeding out interview tactics which have been so successfully implemented by the Israeli's. And not, whether or not I had too much red pop before I boarded the plane, and playing Russian roulette with if my bladder will hold until we hit the gate or not.

Please find a way to keep us safe that factors in at least some minimum about of common sense and appreciation for what flying is like for the passenger. Novel concept, I know. But we are the ones who's butts are in the seats, shouldn't the solution be something we can live with and abide by? Passengers are increasingly the foilers of such attempts, so we're really doing our part here. Isn't it time you do a lil' something for us?


P.S. Once this is complete, kindly address leg room, the size of the alleged bathrooms and a more meaningful boundary between me and the person next to me. Thanks in advance.


Wednesday, December 23, 2009

~Christmas time is heeeeeeere

Well. Look at me, bloggin' like some kinda cool kid!

There are certain things I love about this time of year. And there are many things I fuckin' hate about his time of year. Christmas ott nine seems a tad topsy turvy...

I love that this time each year I know I will see that Folgers commercial, that has easily been runnin' since I was 15. It's turned into a Yule tradition for me. You know the one. Peter rides up at daybreak in the blue bug, hops out in front of his parents house, sneaking in, having just made it home from college. Peter makes himself a cup o' joe. The aroma promptly permeates the air-- oddly serving to only rouse the sole member of the household who doesn't drink coffee (I'm not entirely sure what this says about the product??), his "surprise" lil' sister. (Little sis is of such an age gap that there's no waaaaay fictional Folgers family parents planned her.) I remember this ad from back in the good ol' guys-were-sportin'-Cosby-sweaters days. A longstanding fave. Well... It was. Zero 9 has seemed fit to bring me some new fangled version of the Folgers son coming home for Christmas. Spied it the other day. There it was. A new fictitious Folgers family exalting the wonders and glories of instant coffee. This edition has a guy coming home from some do good-er trip to Africa (it's quite possible I made the location up. So for accuracy, let's go with, some far away land, deal?). New fangled surprise sibling is still the first to wake up and greet him, but it's just not the same. Ugh. I suppose I shouldn't be so disappointed in Folgers choice to update, as I've never been a coffee drinker.

I also love other holiday commercials. Clap on..Clap off...Clap on...Clap off...the Clllllllllapper!! Then of course there's Chia. Which is really two gifts in one. I mean, that "hair" is alfalfa. It's the Razzles of cheap ass gift giving for heavens sakes! It's a gift of stunning decoration and sustinance. A holiday two-fer miracle.

Lately I find myself really starting to gain appreciation for the ubiquitous Liz Taylor perfume spot more and more of late. It's like, bam-- Liz Taylor: The Audacity to Avoid Acknowledging Aging!!! Meanwhile, everyone in American has likely seen her splashed across some checkout line rag mag in her wheelchair, lets just say in the holiday spirit of kindness, looking her near 80 years and practicing living well through chemistry, I suspect. But sure as shit they roll out with this footage of her from the days of Dynasty and Falcon Crest. (In the name of full disclosure, I assert this time frame solely based on the wings and feathers in her hair and the pads on her shoulders. ...Now where did I leave my carbon dater?) Slinging her diamonds baby. Slinging her diamonds.

Of course, Christmas isn't just about my enjoyment (and/or disdain) of what Madison Ave. pumps out.

There's the Christmas music. Which in these parts (O-H-I-O!!!) starts playing approximately 48 hours after Halloween. I've always thought I hated Christmas music because by the time the actual day rolls around I've had to restrain myself from some showy display of extreme violence because I've been hearing it for so loooooooong that I am rendered unable to gain any joy from it and have been pushed to near breaking point (whew), I've heard it so much by the time it's really time for mortals to be subjected to carols and the like. My personal preference? No Christmas music until, ideally the 20th. But as it turns out I just plain ass don't like a good amount of Christmas songs. I've done some soul searching and these are pretty much the only Christmas songs I enjoy hearing:

(No ranking order. I wouldn't be fair to the songs, man.)

  • Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas time - Sir Paul MacCartney

  • Last Christmas - Wham (I played pool with that guy! Nooooo. Not really. But I'll tell you that story another day)

  • Father Christmas - Kinks

  • War is Over - John Lennon

  • Christmas Time is Here - The Charlie Brown kids

  • Skating - Vince Guaraldi

  • J-I-N-G-L-E Bells - Frank Sinatra ("I love those j-i-n-g-l-e bells"...NOT Jingle Bells.)

  • White Christmas - Otis Redding version (mainly because I'm the warped sort that thinks it's somewhat tee hee-able that it's a black man with a red name singing about a white Christmas. I'm not sayin' that's right. I'm just saying I find it funny.)

  • Little Saint Nick - The Beach Boys

  • Christmas in Hollis - Run DMC

  • 2000 Miles - The Pretenders

  • Holiday Road - National Lampoons Christmas Vacation (I've never seen the movie, but like the song)

  • God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - Barenaked Ladies

  • Santa Clause is Coming to Town - Dave Brubeck

  • Christmas is the time to say I Love You - Billy Squire

  • Must Be Santa - Bob Dlyan

  • A Few of my Favorite Things - Tony Bennett

  • Santa Baby - Eartha Kitt

  • Cool Yule - Louis Armstrong

  • Mambo Santa Mambo - Enchanters

  • Fairytale of New York The Pogues

  • Oh Holy Night - Charlotte Church

  • The Chipmunk Song - Alvin & The Chimpunks (...meeeeee I want a hoooooo la hoop!!....)

One of my hates about this time of year.... Ye ol' debate of whether to Happy Holidays, or to Merry Christmas. Personally I come down squarely on the side of Merry Christmas. 99 and 44/100's of the time. Especially when we are within hours of Santa's arrival. Uber especially when I'm walkin' around in my Santa hat. The HAT is a clue to the well observe-ed, that I am a Christmas celebrator. I'm Santa sanctioned. It seems odd that I would be wished a happy holiday, when atop my head is an actual, literal sign that tells you I celebrate Christmas? But, much as I wish I could, I can't control other people.

I only have tenuous control over me. Here's the deal... When it's mid March, I don't spend a nanosecond contemplating if *you* celebrate, or observe St. Patricks Day. (My favorite holiday of the year, btw. Rounded out with my bday, Waitangi Day & Bastille Day) No, I wish your ass a Happy St. Pats. I don't expect that if you're of German or Swedish decent that you're going to be offended. It's a real, honest-to-God, on the calender day denoted in red, that I (over???) celebrate, and am wishing you a good one. What the hell could be wrong with that?!? I'm not Muslim, but if someone wished me a Happy Ramadan, even though it's not a period that I observe, I would hardly be offended. On the contrary, thank you for wishing me 30 days of goodness, ya know? Obviously for friends and acquaintances I know who are Jewish, I make it a point to be aware of when Hanukkah begins and tell them to get their dreidle on. "Happy Holiday's" is for pussies. Yep. I said it. Just like I'm sayin' to you now, regardless of your religious beliefs and with no ill will intended: Merry (and safe) Christmas...Jingle, Jingle!!

P.S. For the uninitiated, the coolio d oh double g lookin' oh-so festive and natty in his Santa suit is Uncle John. He's one cool ass dog.

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