Antarctica Calling...

Yesterday while Doug was out picking up his glasses we received the longest distance long distance phone call that has ever rung into this house.

Aaron must have known I was pinin' for his coconuts because he had a minute to make a call from McMurdo Station way down south Antarctica way... I almost had a stroke, I couldn't believe he was calling us from Antfuckingarctica!

"It's the military, they know how to treat us," he told me.

He's staying at the base for a few weeks with his team, doing some projects that need attention before heading out to the field for most of the remainder of their trip. I asked him about his journeys thus far, he told me about his hellish flight from LA to New Zealand, described Christchurch NZ as the most beautiful city he'd ever seen, with the most amazing botanical garden ever. He said NZ makes Hawaii look ghetto and told us to start saving up for a mandatory life fulfilling trip to visit that beautiful country.

He is staying in a dorm style building, rooming with some guy from NASA, told me about some balloon bigger than Tiger Stadium that they're putting up in the sky, described a volcano 25 miles away from his seat which he could see clearly and perfectly.

Sounds to me like he's having the time of his life. He says he hasn't yet really processed some of the things he's been exposed to or has seen, and that it will take a while for things to sink in, but ... woooooo! He's stoked.

I felt honored to receive a call, and when I told Doug he said "I hope he called his wife too."

That'd be funny if he only called us and not Michelle! (Not. Michelle would kill his ass). So Michelle, if you're reading -- give us a call or email me. Let me know he wasn't insensitive to you. And I'm sorry Doug missed the call, I know Aaron would have been excited to talk to him.

I hit *69 to see what the area code would be from Antarctica, thinking I'd get the recording that the number I was trying to track was untraceable, but it was a 978 area code -- Massachusetts. Doug theorizes that it's sattelite phone they're using. Perhaps from there they make a local connection for the call so it doesn't cost a lot. Who knows. It's all a mystery to me... but regardless, Senor Coconuts called from the south pole and that's quite a trip if you ask me. Huzzah!

Anyway -- there isn't much else to report really. I've spent a ton of time reading the archives of some of the newer journals/blogs I've picked up so that's burned some time. I also have to get a shower. I spent a lot of time napping and lazing around yesterday so today I must be slightly more proactive. The Patriots have to win today for their hopes of any sort of football future in this season will flourish. That game begins in 25 minutes. After said game, a trip to the market is in order. We ended up getting Chinese take out (or take away as I believe the saying is in Great Britian and other parts of the world) because we literally only have bread left in the house and I wanted something more substantial than French Toast or PB&J. Thank you Doug for going and picking it up. There's a decent place about 1 mile from our front door, up at the end of our street, so it's nice and convenient. I just wish they delivered, but we live in the woods so delivery is something reserved for slightly more urban and "worth it to do so" locations. They deliver pizza around here though...

we got snow!

Finally. Predilections of several inches of snow were actually true this time, and the forecasters shit us not. We were promised 8-12 inches. In reality, there are about 15 inches in my yard. It was quite an adventure. Very beautiful... and it feels very winterish out now, whereas before it was just cold.

A lot of people get really perplexed about the whole white Christmas concept. The classical Victorian images of horses drawn in sleighs and candles in windows, and snow all around as carolers stroll up and down the streets. Where did these archetypal images arise? Why do people long for them? To be honest, I've heard many London residents moan that White Christmases in England were not really white but snow and ice filled streets smeared with soot and garbage, and then it would get rained on, and late December was really never that soft and gentle, romantic Victorianesque vision that people bring to mind. In New England, most of the time, unless you're north of even here, there isn't snow on the ground at Christmas. I can remember plenty of Christmas times in the greater Boston area where it sure was cold enough to sustain Christmas, but all we got was a cold and bitter wind blowing across yards and down streets, enough so that you wouldn't want to be out and you pitied Santa for having to come out in it.

Perhaps in the USA white Christmas was once the standard all the way down to Washington DC and clear over to the Rocky Mountains at one time. But global warming has screwed that up for everyone except those north of Chicago, living in Buffalo, Vermonters and Northern New Hampshirites... Stupid cars and progress crimping environment-driven images of holiday utopia!

Seriously, I doubt that.

I think that the song's popularity makes us all think that Christmas should be snow covered. For me, I'd rather it not be. And I'm very glad that the storm held off until the late afternoon, that I was able to finish all the shopping, that my in-laws were able to get here without getting stranded somewhere between Bradford PA and the NY State line, and that we were able to all enjoy some fun snow-ness while they were here. Snow a couple days after Christmas is fine and good. And we have enough to last us a few weeks it seems.

	I did take pictures of trees, kids, other things, but for the most part I focused on the dogs. I wanted a good picture of the two of them together and I got it. Jack didn't quite know what to do while up in the truck. He was sorta freaked out and Doug had to lift him out. Kinger takes the snow casually, playing nicely in it. And Doug looks like a man who would really rather not live in New England on days when it snows 15 inches. I love that picture.

We survived the visit with my in laws, the storm, and the holidays. I love having my in-laws and my parents visit, but for some reason, and I think this is probably true of most adult children, I am relieved when they are gone.

I personally think three full days here or there is my maximum tolerance level for visiting with my mother in law, and that the same goes when my husband is visiting with my parents...(don't be insulted, ma. You probably feel the same too!) Unless I get like a full day break to do something other than hang out around the house.

In the summer it's different, when we can go to the zoo or go places and see stuff. This visit was hard because we were primarily HERE, except for a Christmas eve drive over to the CVS to pick up a prescription and visit the Building 19 nextdoor. I feel like I've been cooped up here for weeks, when really it was 3 days.

My mother in law stresses me out. Our personality types and interests are very different. Don't get me wrong, I love the socks off that woman and she's very good to me, my husband and our kids... I find her interesting, she's funny and talkative and has a lot of stories to tell, but she just kinda wears me out. My father in law -- he's a sainted man and I love him. I told Doug today that in his old age my father in law can do a world of evil, become a crotchety old kook, and he'll still go straight to heaven for his time spent with mom.

His presence here really balances her out and that's a great thing. And the two of them are always welcome.

For three days. Grin...

I got time to myself at one point, which not only was important for my mental well being but because I had a ton to do and HAD to get rid of everyone. Doug wanted to take everyone out for a ride, but Jessica slept in and had just gotten up. She was excessively grouchy, and was about to make life a living hell for everyone if she had to go with us. So I told Doug to take off without her and I'd stay with. My mother in law said "Oh, are you trying to get rid of us?" And I laughed, I told her no, but I had things to do instead of drive around and look at stuff right at that moment. She made some jokes but I'm afraid she saw that I truly did need a break from all the family in these tight quarters.

They went over to the ocean, to Salisbury beach and other locales, and I had Jessica mop the bathroom and kitchen and organize some things that she neglected to take care of before Tuesday's grandparent arrival. I worked on the menu layouts and other word documents cateringman's partner has me doing, and made full and complete progress. That's one project I'm glad to have done. So it really was a productive time, and I didn't lounge on the couch and play GameBoy as I was sorely tempted to do.

And I felt incredibly relaxed and at peace.

We did a lot of cooking and eating. I made scallops and bacon, which were a big hit. We did a ham and scalloped potatoes, and I made corn when I originally planned to do green beans, which garnered about a half hour conversation about how green beans are supposed to go with ham and that it was strange to have corn...

Doug and I did a ton of shoveling because Pete was down at his parents for Christmas and then went straight to work the next day. So he didn't get back until 6pm last night. I love the fact he has that plow. Makes a world of difference to us.

For those who checked yesterday's entry be sure to go back and check again to see the Christmas related pictures that I posted a few hours after I uploaded the entry. If you give a shit.

All told, it was a good Christmas, I'm happy. Life is good. And that's a nice thing.

---

In other news...

New Years Eve is next week.

I must assure you that there will not be a crazy party like last year, because King Coconuts is not with us.

He's in Antarctica by now taking ice core samples and sleeping in a tent.

Michelle may join us, and my sister may. Anyone else who wants to come up is more than welcome to. The Wayout Inn welcomes all comers.

But I sure as hell am going to miss Aaron. He made last New Years Eve quite fun (as picture here sure does show... by the way, he isn't chugging rum. The lid is on the bottle. He's just mugging for ya) as he makes every visit we have with him just plain super fun... I think of him like the younger brother I never had (not to dis my sister -- she's mad awesome and super. But IF I'da had a brother, I sure think he may have been like Aaron. At least I hope he woulda, instead of being like the vast majority of my male cousins have turned out. But I won't go there).

So I hope Antarctica shows him a good, safe, fun time even without his boobs and a roll of packing tape to hold them in place.

God, that picture totally makes me laugh extra hard.

---

I got our DVD player on the PC fixed so I did get to watch my one Christmas gift, which my sister sent me. Barelaked Nadies, the DVD collection of BNL videos. With snarky commentary by the boys. It's supposed to have footage of their live concert from NYC when they did the Great Guinness Toast, but I don't know if it's my DVD player or what -- I can't locate the content on the disk. Whafuh? I spent a half hour last night getting incrementally more and more irritated with the damn thing until I finally gave up... If anyone knows the secret -- let me in on it. Dang.

So thank you Linda... great gift. And you'll get yours. Oh yeah. You'll get yours (Christmas and birthday gifts, that is, when I seeya).

Oh -- our Geocache had its first finders outside of Team Screamapillar (and no, none of them are Wil Wheaton...)

So far today I've received two emails of the logged finds from the mailbot. The first finder lives the next town over, and I've seen his name on a lot of other finds we've done. He loved it, and his note said something about how he wished someone would put a gift like that out for him, and it was a great idea. What an ego stroke. The second finder says he will come back with Simpsons items at another time. How cool is this! I feel so nerdy! I'm so glad I did this... I think it feels somehow super exciting in a weird and geeky sorta way to have someone actually find it. I feel that I accomplished something great when all I did was stick a plastic container in the woods with Simpsons pogs in it. Dang. I'm easily impressed with myself.

I have some sleep to catch up on and a shower to obtain, so I may just go do those things now. Have a super day

Christmas Day

Good morning and a very happy Christmas day to anyone online and reading. Hopefully you're not quite online yet and are spending time either sleepin' in or hanging with your homies.

The festivities here are mellow and quiet. Last night we did our pageant (Jessica stole the show as the innkeeper, and Geoff was well behaved and wonderful as a shepherd) and dinner with the family. The kids got to bed after 9, and around 10pm when I was certain they were asleep I started my Santaing.

Evidence that i torture my children every christmas.
mwa ha ha ha.

I finished wrapping the gifts and loading up the tree by 11:30 and crashed out. Geoff got up at 7:15 and sat quietly on the couch. Doug was awake enough and woke me up to listen.

Geoff was quiet, and in total awe. He sat in front of the tree and looked at the boxes. I heard him say something to his grandfather, sleeping on the fold out couch in the livingroom. Gary said "you should go wake your mom," which was our pre-bedtime agreed upon signal that Gary knew Geoff was ready to start ripping into boxes.

We all got up, made coffee and the kids had at it. They got lots of great stuff (Geoff now has a bevy of dinosaurs, about 12-16 inches long, so that he can take over the world). Rather than get into the details of what they got swagwise, I will just say everyone is happy and thank you notes are enroute. Here are a few pictures from the morning...

Jessie received several Simpsons related items, from this rubick's head of homer, to a full chess set, to a Simpson's watch. She wanted the Mmmmmm Burgers one where Homer is grilling, but they were out. So she ended up with Krusty, and will have to live.	Geoff digs in, enjoying the stocking loot. He didn't realize it was there for a long time. They were almost done opening presents when Grandma Bonnie suggested they go look at the stockings. They both got several pairs of socks and new Oral B electric toothbrushes. Santa's big on the practical things in life...
This should be scary.	Jessie enjoys her stocking swag.
This is a riot. Geoff got a Simpsons watch that says "Are we there yet? No. Are we there yet? No." and a bevy of dinosaurs. Here is a closeup view of the watch and one dino at work.

My sister got me the "Barelaked Nadies" DVD by Barenaked Ladies. Now I have to get my PC's DVD/CD player fixed so I can watch it. D'oh!

Speaking of D'oh, for Christmas this year Doug and I had decided not to get each other presents.

So, seeing as I can't let him get away with getting NOTHING, I made him a geocache for Christmas. It's titled "Mmmmm, Geocache. Aaaaaggahhhaggh" and it's filled with Simpson related swag. Check him out !!!!

After the kids opened their presents, Doug, Gary, the dogs and I all went out to find the cache. Initially I goofed and put the coordinates for the parking area in the mocked-up cache page that I made, so I had to lead him to it rather than drag our sorry asses home to get my note (hidden somewhere in this room) with the actual coords, program them into the GPS and find it. Placing the cache was hard. I bought the stuff before I got vertigo, and then when I got the dizzies I realized I had to get it out there or else there'd be no gift for Doug... so I went out, dizzy as shit, and placed it. That's how I managed to mess up the coordinates for the mock-up. Good thing I remembered where it was.

Doug found it very easily and took out the talking beer coasters (2, from Moe's Tavern, where nobody knows your name) and the talking beer opener (which needs new batteries. I had to buy it because it was the last one anywhere that I could find... we'll get batteries later). Everything else is still in there, waiting for the residents of Geocachingland to come and pilfer and find, and fill, and grow. I love that this is out there, and people will go to it and we'll get emails saying "cool cache! Thanks for the find" and stuff.

Click here to read all about our cache, if you are interested.

If you're a cacher -- go do it! It is so easy that even Wil Wheaton can find it. He calls himself the "Worlds Worst Geocacher," but I bet he could walk right the hell up to this one. I think it would be awesome if Uncle Willie visited our cache. Maybe someday he'll come to Massachusetts and do it. I think that would rule supreme if it ever happened. I should email him the cache page and tell him about it.

Like he'd give a shit, right?

Anywho -- It's such an easy cache, that I hardly feel it is worth it to anyone to go there. Unless they bring their sleds. Which they will need today. We're supposed to get a class seven kill storm today. It was snowing lightly when we went out to the cache but this afternoon is supposed to turn into a winter wildland. Eeep. If you're anywhere between here and Ohio -- drive carefully!

Alright -- I've got scallops and bacon to be makin' (showin' off the catering girl skills) and dinner to get started. So I'll sign off for now. Merry Christmas. Be sure to go read Crazy Tracy's report for today. I think she sums Christmas up really well... and what it's all about in the long run.

Merry.

My Christmas Wish

I am having fewer Anna Nicole moments. Thank you for your kind thoughts and support

-- ooof. Fell over. Sorry.

Anyway.

The world is spinning less, and I'm able to sit for extended periods of time. I got slightly dizzy and nauseated last night while decorating our tree so Doug did the bulk of the decorating with the kids, and I sat on the couch and watched.

Aside from that, I've felt pretty okay since last I wrote. The medication seems to work really well at keeping me from that precipice plummeting sensation, but it isn't perfect. I wouldn't trust me to drive long distances, or to carry the cross walking into church (I usually do when there is no acolyte in attendance because I sit at the end of the choir pew). I'm good for a laugh, but I'm tiring easily.

Not the greatest place to be in for this busy time of year. We've got a house to clean, groceries to shop (aisles to dance up and down). My in-laws should be here sometime Tuesday. I need to call them today and have them make sure they are here in time for the pageant. I told them it was at 7:30, it's actually at 5. Ooops.

Blame it on the inner ear instability.

I also draw your attention at this time to last year's entry on or about this date when I paid homage to my sister. I wrote what I consider to be the most stirring piece of ass kissage in the history of American Literature, and you should all go read it. Now.

As for "What's The Deal" with us getting a tree on December 21, here's my theory:

1. We are lazy

2. We just aren't obsessed with doing stuff well in advance (ie, we are lazy)

3. We keep the tree up past Christmas Day. Ours stays up for a good week (month) after and we enjoy it for quite some time into the new year. We aren't like the wacky people who put their tree up the day after Thanksgiving and then yank the thing down at 7am the morning after Christmas.

4. The one year we got a tree early (Dec. 5th) all the needles had fallen off and the damn thing was teetering between fire hazard and uncomely eye sore on the scale of home decorations, so we just wait now. Normally we would have done it last weekend, but ... meh.

Thank goodness there were plenty of trees left at our local nursery. They had scads of $15 trees piled up, and we grabbed one. We also bought poinsettias because, after all, nothing says poison your household pets better than a poinsettia (all the poinsettias are far from Jack puppy's mouth).

Geoff hanging out with his new best friend.	I used the "macro" feature on my camera to take this one. I'm impressed.
Jessica, Queen of Christmas	Floorlights.
Doug stringing the lights up -- I used the night time feature of my camera to take this one, so he had to stand very still. His arm looks monstrously huge due to my perspective on this shot, but he's cute with them lights all around him...	And Geoff tested strings of lights for us. Again, low light feature on camera means Geoff sits veeeeerrrrrry still for mommy for this shot.

I'm done with Christmas shopping, amazed at myself for the accomplishment considering my dizzy condition. But we really don't over indulge this time of year. The kids are all set -- Doug and I aren't giving each other presents because hell, we bought the best truck in the universe last month, thank you very much.

But there is still a gift to give -- I want to address each of you who read me on a regular basis, friends and family alike.

I want to be able to give you something, but I have no money to hit your Amazon gift lists or send you scads of CDs of your favorite artists. Here is my short list of gifts and wishes I give (or WOULD give if I could) to the people I love:

Linda -- If I had a million dollars I'd buy you a K car, we'd eat more Kraft dinner, take a limousine to the store, we'd build a tree fort in my yard, green dress, some get some Art... you know.

But I wouldn't have to buy your love.

I'd just get the other stuff. And pay all your debt. And get you a gooooooooooood job. And a really nice boyfriend. With a big.... car.

Mom and Dad -- Seeing as we're doing Christmas with Doug's parents, you'll still be with me in my heart, and I'll remember the fun Christmases from my past with good food and good fellowship. I give you the knowledge that you don't have to cook for us or clean up the house this year... you can just relaaaaax.

And mom -- happy retirement. May you find something in 2003 that keeps you out of trouble, keeps you using your creative heart, and makes you happier than anyone deserves to be.

Amy -- I'd get rid of all the annoying crappy Christmas music and that crappy GAP scarf advertisement. Ooooooh, I deplore that one as well. Thank God for the mute button, I concur. And I'd give you full time money and benefits for part time work, so you can keep doing the Buford thing or whatever musical aspirations lead you to a passionate life. I'd make sure you could ALWAYS lead a passionate life and never want for it.

Taunia -- I'd guarantee Mr. X or any other man would never hurt you again. I'd kick all their asses. And I'd give you a win in that Jazz vocal contest. Word.

Tess -- I would so give you a naked Mr. Diesel ... and, and, and Peter Mulvey playing live for you while the aforementioned Mr. Diesel feeds you chocolate covered strawberries as you soak in a luxurious bath. And then we'd all leave while said Mr. Diesel puts Kiels products in your hair and all over your pretty face... that's where I leave it.

Chad and Remi -- Never ending health for your new babies, a great new job on the North Shore and a superbowl party at my house next year. Go Steelers!

Carrie -- Unrivaled and unparalleled success with your new business, happiness with Mark and Dogs, never having to dress up to impress someone (because they're already impressed) and the knowledge that you are one of the kindest souls around.

Elizabeth and John -- baby? hello? I wish for you a quick and easy labor. Especially if it has already happened and I haven't yet read my email. And may Mr. Gillis baby be the happiest, healthiest, dog loving baby ever.

Aaron and Michelle -- I would give you beer. Lots and lots of beer. Consumed beside an open fire on many starfilled nights while we crack each other up to the point where we just fall over, not from vertigo, but from happiness. You guys are our best pals -- I want to give you a lifetime worth of that, all at once. With some of the million dollars I give to my sister up there, green dresses and John Merrick's remains included.

Annie -- I wish you healing -- go visit your sister's grave. Have a hell of a fabulous 2003, please. I want you to have so much peace, love and happiness and I wish I could cram that in an envelope and send it to you.

Bonnie, Duncan and Chloe -- I wish for you more of the ongoing happiness that is blessing your little family, with no troubles, strife, sorrow or fear. And belly zerberts for Ms. Chloe... meaning we must totally spend more time together in 2003.

Smitty -- I would give you an A in all your graduate school classes. And never make you take a test. Or write a paper. Unless you could incorporate the phrase "corpsing through his veins" in one of the sentences. And I'd give you cool bosses. No more of these boss-jerks that you've had through your work history. Cool bosses rule.

Chris and Chrissy -- May Scranton be conquered by your unequaled intelligence, brilliance and wits, bowing before Chris' pen and Chrissy's webmastering. All hail the king and queen of kellyburgh.

Rupa -- If I could, I would give you the greatest job ever. One where your boss is kind and treats you like a queen. I would also take the things that trouble you and worry you -- and I would make you be at peace and be happy.

---

Finally...

Here's where I get religious on you. You can stop reading if you don't want to hear this, but I'd rather you read through. Stick with me here kids.

I've long held the opinion that Christmas isn't supposed to be a happy time. I echo many of Amy's recent screeds against rampant consumerism in the name of Jesus being the Reason for the Season.

If you believe in Christ, Christmas should be marked as a sad event in human history. The time of joy is Easter -- the triumphant Resurrection of Jesus, instead of the kind of sad and scary beginnings of his life.

The fact that God sent His Son into the world and did it in such a way that he became human, learned about what we go through, shared happiness and sadness with real people, fought against what was wrong with society, and then suffered a horrible painful death, that's not a happy thing to celebrate. It is something we should mark with an ominous thanks, with humble hearts.

Marking this amazing gift, we as a culture have become absolutely consumed with the inability to even match such a concept. So we have to give each other Lexuses wrapped in bows, or three tiered diamond pendants from Kay Jewelers. We can't compare, we can't give back, so we ignore the Giver, turn to each other and painfully overdo in a rather vain and selfish way. Embracing the reality that God has shown an amazing kind of love for us, that He'd become us to learn more about us, to eventually die for us, is a pretty sobering concept.

Meditating on the Christ child in lowly manger laid, his mother, a girl visited by an angel and given the news (she could have said no, you realize. Mary had a choice. She could have told Gabriel to take a hike. But she complied with the message. Accepted. And lived a life that she never expected she'd lead) -- I accept the news, the event, the reality.

I believe.

I welcome the gift, although I realize what kind of life the man lived, the kind of death he suffered.

I believe.

And I appreciate.

Whether or not you feel the same way or not is your decision. If you feel that God in whatever form you believe Him/Her to be blesses you, take a moment this year and do nothing but say thank you for the gift of your life.

And let me give you this gift, accept it if you want:

I would die for each of you the way Christ died for each of us.

I would shoulder your burdens and give you all the money in the world if I had it to give.

I will pray for each of you, support you, email you hugs when you feel like dreck.

I will be to you the best witness I can when I'm not being a snarky and whiny brat.

If you embrace my wishes for you, do me a favor and return the gift to me by being that to others.

Merry Christmas.

Vertigo so dangerous you have to sign a waiver

I put the picture I wanted to put in the Christmas cards on a floppy disk and took it to my neighborhood Brooks drug store, where they do a really nice job with film and stuff. They couldn't get my picture off the disk. It is black and green and looks like black and green ass. They told me to try another disk... and come back.

I was all set to do that, then it hit me.

No -- not the flu.

Not a cold.

Not the sudden realization that most people take the pictures they get in Christmas cards and chuck them in a drawer never to look at them again.

No.

I got hit with vertigo.

"Vertigo so dangerous you'll have to sign a waiver" vertigo.

Tuesday I felt dizzy after working for catering man, and then on Wednesday I tried to get out of bed and nearly fell down, so I flopped backwards back into bed. I felt like Bridget Jones after a night out with the girls.

I started to panic. I'm having an aneurysm. "Maybe it's a tumor" ("It's NOT a tumor!") from Kindergarten Cop was going through my head.

Doug left for work and after he was gone it became painfully obvious to me that there was no fargin' way I was going to be able to drive Geoff to school or anyone to anywhere. I called Doug up and asked him to take me to the doctor. He was in the middle of a painful staff meeting, so I saved him. Heh heh.

My doctor ruled out a lot of things... ie: it's not an aneurysm because my symptoms aren't in line with one. It isn't dehydration (this happened to me one other time in the last year and it was due to dehydration after geocaching... so this time I drank a ton of water hoping it would clear up and it didn't help) because she checked my mucous membranes and I look fantabulous. It isn't my blood pressure causing dizziness and possible stroke because my BP is 110/80. It isn't a migraine, because my migraine medication didn't clear it up when I took it the night before thinking that I was coming down with one.

So by process of elimination, she believes I've got an inner ear infection which is viral in nature. There is no pain in association with this, and the way I described my symptoms leads her to believe this is the case. She can't give me anything to clear up the infection because viral infections have no cure -- they have to run their courses. She gave me an anti-vertigo medication and it seems to be helping a lot. Good news is most of the time these infections clear up after 48 hours. Bad news is they can take up to three weeks. If I've still got vertigo after 3 weeks, I am not sure what the course of action will be. I want an MRI and a CAT scan. I want bloodwork done. I want answers. Shit. I can't live like this. I don't know how anyone does -- especially Anna Nicole Smith. Or Ozzy. This is what the must feel like every damn day.

Doug and I keep joking about me being like Anna Nicole ... have you watched her show? It's a damn trainwreck -- it sucks, and I hate her, but I can't tear my eyes away when she's on. I'm aghast. Shocked. She can barely talk, barely lucid. She can't walk a fucking straight line in her bare fucking feet. She's a mess. No wonder she has two "handlers" working with her all the time.

Me (gesturing away from me with my eyes glassy, staring into space): Doug, go over there and get mfsomdunnthoe"

Doug (in his atty Howard K. Stern helpful voice): You want some donut holes, Anna?

Me (still as Anna): Mfghyhyh

Cue Anna theme song -- "Anna Anna Anna Anna Anna Nicole, you're so outrageous" as I fall down sideways. Kerplunk. Oof.

Me: Ooof. I fell. Get the [bleep]ing farting dog off my head.

Good Lord, Anna I feel your pain. I know just how it feels to be you. Without the money or the parties or the shoes or the big big boobies.

---

I slept all day Wednesday, most of Thursday in my non-Bobby Trendy styled bed.

I feel fine but just incredibly disoriented. Sitting up for extended periods of time (ie: here at the computer) is difficult. I'm very tired. Jessica keeps sneaking up on me and surprising me with things that she should tell me long in advance... "Mom, I need a grab bag gift for school" was the latest one, at 5:30pm last night, while Doug was out at his staff Christmas party.

Whafuh??? I go into Anna Nicole mode. You need what? When? Are donut holes involved? Where's my farting dog?

I need this to clear up and go away because it isn't like I don't have a million and one things to do in the next four days.

Sigh.

---

Anyway -- not much has happened in amusings land. Jessie had a band concert on Tuesday evening, which was the last time I felt really normal. I was impressed with how good the band was, compared to last year when they sucked. She attributes that to the fact the sixth grade and her grade (5) play together as "advanced band" and last year it was just fourth grade "beginner band." They put the sixth graders up front, and they rock. She says the fifth graders are still really lame. I told her that in a year she's come a long way, and next year she will rock like a sixth grader.

And the chorus always does such a nice job. The chorus director is a crunchy chewy granola lady, a little older, unmarried, probably has a lot of cats. She always has them do multicultural numbers... she's big into Latino and African American music for this totally white-bread group of kids. And she is the nicest lady. I really like her. And the kids like her too. It is very obvious when you see how they respond to her.

I was very impressed with my daughter's performance. They did a song with a lot of hand motions (an African American spiritual Christmas tune) and Jessica was so animated and so on the money with her motions... quite Broadway.

After the performance we went out to Friendly's for ice cream. Here are my gorgeous and well behaved children:

Yesterday Geoff's class went on a Christmas Caroling field trip at the local nursing home. They did performance numbers on a stage with hand motions and drama and the whole 9 yards. I stayed home in fear of falling over sideways. I'm sorry I missed it. His teacher told me he had a great time and was very well behaved. The kids walked around and gave out candy canes to the old folks, and wished them Merry Christmas.

That's pretty much the extent of the excitement here. Christmas shopping is almost done. We still don't have a friggin' tree though. That must be remedied ASAP. There are a few things left to get -- I'm hoping to go get them this weekend without the kids tagging along. Hopefully by then I won't be falling over sideways. More later

Santa Comes to Town

Around 8:30 am the fire station around the corner set its whistle off at full blast. I heard fire trucks, sirens, all sorts of noise. It got me out of bed, thinking "Jebus. That must be a heck of a fire... wonder where it is?" I considered turning on the police scanner. Then... I remembered.

Two Sundays before Christmas the local firemen drive around with a "Santa" on board and they cruise through all the neighborhoods, past all the houses with the siren wailing. So for over an hour we could hear him in the distance. Just when we thought he was coming down our street he turned somewhere else. I was afraid we'd miss him. Geoff was all excited and bouncing off the walls. He ran outside in his stocking feet to see if he could see the firetruck... but it wasn't there.

Eventually, Santa and his "sleigh" rounded the corner and we got him.

And there he goes. See him up there?

Geoff was thrilled. And he is now officially out of friggin' control.

His listening skills have been all out of whack lately, and he is incredibly disobedient. Possibly the overstimulation of the holiday season... but we keep it pretty darn low key here and he's been unhinged for weeks.

We don't even have a tree yet. Haven't put any lights up. Nothing. We wait until it is much closer to Christmas because he is just a force that cannot be contained and he becomes the living breathing embodiment of Human Pain In The Ass.

He can't sit still, he can't follow any instructions, he cannot accept that Christmas isn't this morning.

To try and show him visually where we are, Doug put up a calendar so he can mark the days off. I caught him this morning trying to mark the days off for tomorrow and Tuesday. As if that will make it a reality and bring Christmas closer.

I spent a half hour today trying to take one lousy friggin picture of them for our Christmas cards. It is a gorgeous day, sunny, bright, not too cold. And I put them out in the yard together, and up in the truck. I took six pictures. They all sucked. The best one is this one.

And for this to be the best one, you can imagine how crappy the others must have been. Jessie was ready to kill him after about 10 minutes, and I was ready to have his picture taken as I dropped his ass off at an orphanage. "Uh, hi. This here kid has no family. Someone take care of him, m'kay?"

Looking at it more closely, this picture isn't so bad. It's funny as hell. I love the look on her face. I would have used it but it came out all blurry, as did the other five pictures I took today. I have no idea why. Someone must have adjusted something somewhere because I have this little tulip symbol up in the top right corner of the display now and I can't get rid of it. I have to dig out the book and find out "WhaFuh" is up with the tulip thingie.

Not all was lost. There is a Christmas card picture going out. I ended up using one that I took in the snow the other day up on Solstice Hill. It's crystal clear, but he's making a ridiculous face. I wanted to throttle him.

God give me strength...

---

My inlaws called last night and they will be joining us for Christmas this year. Which is very exciting. They haven't done Christmas here with us yet, not that it is some sort of awesome experience, but it'll be nice to have them for a change. They will arrive during the day on Christmas Eve and are staying until Friday. This could all change based on the weather of course, but for now it looks like a plan. Geoff may or may not participate in the pageant this year. He didn't want to walk up on cue, he didn't want to stand still, he kept trying to tell "Squirrel Jokes" like Sponge Bob (damn you, Sponge Bob! Why'd you have to be so funny!) and so the Sunday School director asked me to just take him and go sit down. He's supposed to be a shepherd. He's going to be an audience member instead, methinks.

Sigh.

Doug did all our Christmas shopping for the kids online. We spent less than we usually do. Money notwithstanding, there isn't a lot that they want. Especially Jessica. She's the least commercially impacted person I know.

Me: Uh, hey. What do you want for Christmas this year? Auntie Lee Lee and Grandma were asking what to get you.

Jess: Uh, I don't know. A CD?

Me: Just one? By whom?

Jess: Um, that guy who sings that song...? You know. Him.

Really.

Last year I had ideas. I had plans. They got cool stuff. I had fun shopping. This year I just don't know what to get them. I don't want to get him something he isn't going to clean up after he's finished playing with, and I don't want to get her something that is going to sit on a shelf somewhere. They have stuff they got last year that they never touch. It kind of bugs me. They both want books, so tomorrow afternoon I'll take a ride over to B&N and pick up some good stuff for them. Gotta keep the literature supply flowing.

Anyway. I've got a ton of stuff to get done for Cateringman... menus and print collateral. I still have other things I need to finish for CM. Life is just getting by me these days. Have a super rest of your weekend if you're checking in. Otherwise -- more next week

Birthdays

It sucks having a birthday close to the holidays. My sister can attest to that. My son's birthday is a few days after Christmas, and I always feel that he is going to get ripped off presentwise.

I also feel that the poor thing doesn't get the things he wants for his birthday. Last year he wanted a bicycle in the worst way.

"Doug, let's get Geoff a bike."

"No. It's too cold out and he'll want to ride it all the time and one of us will have to be out there with him freezing to death because he has no developed nerve endings and negative 20 degrees to him feels like 50 degrees. We'll get him one in the spring."

We didn't.

I bought him a used one at the end of the summer at a neighborhood yard sale. I got it for a buck. It needs work. It's in the garage.

The price was so cheap because it was a neighbor doing the selling, and she gave me everything I picked up for five dollars. I tried to give her more and she pooh poohed me away.

So Geoff does have a bike, and I hope he still fits on it in the spring.

I would love to get him a wicked shiny NEW bike instead of getting the old bike rehabilitated and repaired. Part of me wants to see the look on his face when he comes out in the morning and there is a fire engine red bike under the tree. Another part of me says "Bullshit. That's materialistic, and wasteful. You've got that perfectly good bike in the garage. Fix the damn thing up already and then he'll be a happy guy. Save the earth. Blah blah blah."

So for his Christmas and his birthday, I'm going to do my best to do things right. For the rest of his life.

And again -- to the aforementioned friends and sister... you're never forgotten for your birthdays. Just somewhat overshadowed by other insane thoughts swirling through my mind. Happy birthday and much love. Linda, I'll get YOU later.

Actually, I got her pretty good last year. Not sure how I will top that entry. Gotta start thinkin' now...

---

You can file this under too much information if you like -- and you can skip reading if you don't want to hear the intimate details of my life. But I feel the need to purge myself of this burden publicly.

I'm hairy.

That's right -- hairy.

Not the usual hippie leg-hair and bikini line hairy. I've maintained that style my whole life. Mostly in the wintertime. I'm not a heavy-duty grooming kinda gal. I think it is vain and a waste of time and money to get waxed down to the landing strip. I'm not a porn star. I'm just a regular gal.

What I'm talking about doesn't concern the pits and shins.

I'm talking face hairy.

I've sprouted several thousand hairs on my face in the last year. It started with a few after Jessica was born, accelerated to many after Geoff. Now I'm to the point where I'm not able to keep up with the daily plucking of said tiny annoyances.

I've tried waxing, but the little buggers hold on so tightly that I wax off swaths of flesh without any little hairs coming with. And waxing actually made the situation worse. When I tried waxing to get the concretely affixed black little bastards off my chin and neck (and they didn't come off) what did come off was the fine, fluffy-soft, blonde, baby hairs I in the same area. And over the course of a month or so, those fine, fluffy-soft, blonde, baby hairs grew in black and evil like the bastards that refused to budge in the first place.

They Hair-Borg'ed.

They became one with the Borg Folicle. Resistance is Futile. We will take over your whole face. Mwa ha ha.

Aghast and dismayed, I went back to plucking. But instead of 10 or 20 little hairs, I now have 10,000. And I'm officially an beardy old lady.

Last time I saw the dermatologist I asked him about what to do... and the discussion went like this:

Me: Dude - check it out. I'm like the bearded lady at the circus. Or those dog-faced kids from Mexico who do stuff on the trampoline. Where's the nearest circus for me to sign up for? What can I do about this?

Rich Jewish Dermatologist with Very Bad Dandruff: Oh honey, that's so normal for a woman you're age. You're fine, don't worry -- see an electrolysis clinic. Have them zapped.

Me: Woman my age??? Whafah? Uh, what do you mean to say, that electrolysis really works?

RJD w/VBD: Oh yes. It certainly does. Get a couple consultations. I have a list of reputable clinics in the area. It usually takes two or three visits, but it works and it barely hurts.

Me: Barely?

RJD w/VBD: Barely. Everything hurts when you talk about removal. Warts, hair... it isn't the end of the world, though. And the results are worth it. What she may have you do is grow the hairs out as long as possible (I'm cringing as he says this and I'm cringing now) so she can see them better and get a good hold on them with the instrument she uses. There are three kinds of popular methods...

He talked but my brain stopped listening.

I pictured myself walking around with the full beard for weeks while the hairs got long enough for whatever tool will be used on them, method not withstanding. I pictured the snickers of middle schoolers behind my back. The confused look on he faces of children. I could hear Metallica's version of Bob Seager's "Turn the Page" playing in my head ... 'All the same old cliches, is that a woman or a man..."

I thought it wouldn't be bad if I could bleach the hairs while they grew. But then I pictured myself looking not unlike a 15 year old boy trying to grow that first soul patch and having it come in all scruffy and uneven. I'd either look like that person or a nuclear fallout victim who lost half his beard due to radiation poisoning.

Sigh.

I called a place today after putting it off for weeks. I've got an appointment for a consultation. I talked to a couple women I know here in town who have gone to this salon... they recommended her. We'll see how things turn out. Or get pulled out as it were.

Alright. I've got to get a shower, and go down to the lunch professor MF is having for the class members in our class. I didn't go down last week because of the weather, and we were all supposed to go out after class for appetizers and beer or something... but the weather was predicted to super suck. Today we're on for lunch instead. So I've got to go. Never one to say no to a free lunch, eh? Plus MF wants to go to a conference in March 2003 in Worcester to present our experience with this class. She submitted the proposal and wants to discuss the possibility of doing a presentation at another conference in November 2003, in Anaheim.

??? Do I want to go do something like that? Veh. Maybe not. But hey... I could go to Disneyland. I could meet my west coast blogging acquaintances. I could go see Mare and her three little boys who live in Dana Point. I could Geocache west coast style. Homies.

We'll see. I'm not super keen, I don't think we got the results we wanted from teaching this class, and I know my response is different from MF's so our presentation would be a real pro/con kind of thing. It would be a good presentation... I just really want to do it here in Worcester first before deciding to GO to California to present.

MF is all gung-ho about it. I think teaching the class just once and then doing a full analysis is a mistake. We should teach it for a year, two semesters minimum, before deciding what to do presentation-wise.

I'll keep you posted..

Yet... another... category four kill storm

You may be wondering just where the hell have I been?

Monday, yesterday, today, and Friday I am Catering Girl. Faithful and loyal sidekick to Catering Man. Preparing Crab Duexelle Mushroom Caps and Canapes. Wrapping baskets of tastefully assorted crackers. Skewering artichoke hearts and chicken strips, breading them and making them shine as only a handmade appetizer can.

He's had no business for weeks, and now -- boom. Holiday parties up the ying yang. They changed their policy where they won't cater anything smaller than 50 people, so all the jobs are bigassed. The smallest one was tonight, and it was a favor to a customer who only needed hors d'ouevres for 30, and they only needed them dropped off, no serving staff or anything. So that's easy money for Cateringman.

I hadn't worked for him for weeks, and forgot everything. Today I screwed up the premixing of salt and pepper by using hand cracked black pepper instead of table grind.

Duh?

Anyway. It's been fun working again, and I'm nowhere near as sore as I was when I started working for him this past spring. I missed Lisa and Chris. The dishwasher Hodgie makes me laugh my ass off. Mr. Mysogynist is gone -- he took a job as a regional sales rep for a company based out of Texas, so he moved. Chris and I have a side bet on when he'll come back after the sales weasel money dries up and the company goes out of business (like the last one he worked for).

Cateringman will keep us all busy for a couple of weeks and then whamo -- it'll all stop until April. He's going to Aruba for a while, and then Tuscany for most of the month of March. Must be nice, eh? [grin].

He deserves it though -- he works hard running the business and riding my ass about not wrapping things tightly enough or not chopping evenly enough. The business has grown like mad, thanks in no part to me, and he deserves a big break.

Yesterday I cut my left thumb to shit, for the first time in months and months I injured myself at work. I was fine chopping scallions for the pasta station, and had the bunch of scallions pinched together tightly in my left fingers... chop chop chop chop. Ouch, God Bless America!!! I clipped the inside of my thumb (closest part to the index finger) with the butt end of the knife, which in Cateringman land is just as sharp as the tip.

I'm hardcore though. I busted ass and worked through the pain. And seeing as I've been saving the world in time for the buffet to be served, I've been a tired little girl. I was grumpy when I got home. Doug let me take a nap in the bedroom (normally he retires to the boudoir but this time stayed on the couch and watched TV and snoozed) and he ordered pizza. So effectively I had the night off from being mom. A beer and "24" later I felt a bit better, but I slept like the dead last night.

There hasn't been much to report. I have no witty anecdotes, haven't done any Christmas shopping. We still don't know if Doug's parents will be coming up to join us for Christmas or not, so I don't know what to plan for the holiday. It's kind of frustrating, because I have 2 weeks to pull Christmas out of my big fat ass for everyone.

I still haven't heard from the college job. I got called by a recruiting agency who found my resume on Monster.com and wanted further info on where I was looking to work, salary requirement, etc. So that was kind of nice.

---

Friends of ours got a new dog. They already have a schnauzer, and had a bulldog too but due to some aggressive behavior problems and somewhat unpredictable biting they gave him up to some folks in New Hampshire who would be better equipped to deal with him.. Both of them were devastated, to say the least, to give away their baby. He was a good dog -- but something recently screwed with his mind and altered his perceptions of small people (ie kids...). Seeing as they were bummed, they decided they needed another puppy. This is Carrie's Christmas Present:

Meet Axel.

I had suggested Figgis as a name. A friend of mine named her dog Figgis (a Boxer) and it is just the funnest name to say. "C'mere, Figgisssssss" it just sounds so funny. But they changed their minds when they met him. He is SO CUTE! I can't wait to go get some puppy love from him. Look at that little face, and that nose. Oy. To die for. Love him. Eat him up yum.

Not that my dog isn't good enough or something... Jack rules. And he's still a puppy so he's still got that puppy sweetness about him. New puppies and new babies just make me melt.

So a special welcome here to Mr. Axel. Be good to your momma and dadda, wouldya?

---

Speaking of being good, right now I'd like to draw attention to my sister. She hates when I do this... but I feel the need.

I was talking to Aaron and he said that he didn't have a camera to take with him to Antarctica. If I were working full time, I'da bought him a camera that day, but I am concerned with our finances over the next couple of weeks and months, so I couldn't just run out and buy him one. And I didn't want to LOAN him my camera, because I use it all the damn time. I'm lost without it.

So I called my sister.

She has a digicam, and she doesn't use it too too much. I figured she may be willing to loan it to him.

Not only was she willing to loan the digicam, but she also told me she has an Advantix camera so he can take cool panoramic shots of Antarctica where he'll be, so she threw that in. And, she is throwing in a couple rolls of film.

AND she offered to have him send her the film to get it developed where she goes because she's got some super discount dealie thing.

So, let's recap here -- sister asked for small favor of loaning camera. Returns with far more than expected response in the form of two cameras and some mother fucking film. Goes beyond that with offer to develop for discount.

She is, by far, the NICEST PERSON EVER. I was floored by her willingness to help out and her total givingnessnessness. She Rules.

So all bow down and worship the kindhearted, wonderwoman -- Linda!

I know I will.

---

Another class four death storm is approaching, although we may just get a mixy rainy thing out of the deal. A bit further inland and northward they should get a fair amount of weather. I've got to go get the laundry out of the basement and get dinner started before this next killer storm hits. I bought dogfood (so the dogs won't eat our carcasses immediately when we're all frozen to death) and bread (so we can have peanut butter and jelly in the post-storm power outage). We'll see if we survive.

Amy told me that she wanted to go with me to the grocery store next time I went so we could sing and dance in the aisles together... I would have brought her, but to be honest my back hurt, and my thumb was throbbin' and I didn't dance or do anything to shame my daughter...

this time..

Suprise Visit

Never a dull moment.

Friday afternoon around 4pm Aaron called and said "What are YOU guys doin' this weekend???" And we said, "Hangin' out with YOU!" They poured into the car and cruised to the Way Out Inn for some way out fun. Seeing as at the end of December A is going to Antarctica (no shit, for real!) we won't see him until like beginning of March... so we needed to get our party on one more time before he went to the true land down under.

We had a really nice time. Saturday we went out to Lawrence to the New Balance outlet (I bought a baseball hat) and then to Malden Mills where they sell polartec fleece by the scads. Aaron was looking for a fleece hat, but they only had them pre-made for layettes. So we bought 2 kingsized comforters for our big bodies to keep warm under this winter.

We then got lunch and had a picnic and went to the top of Solstice Hill/Ward Hill in Andover, where we'd done a geocache back in the summer. There is a fabulous view of Boston from up there, and we had fun hiking in the snow. It was cold but not too windy. And I took some fun pictures of everyone.

And, even though we did all this fun stuff, I still managed to redesign the top layers of the site, so I guess is the fourth or fifth iteration of the look and feel of the page. I also added a search engine, so you can search the whole freakin' site for a topic like "Monkey Stink" and come up with said entries.

As for the site design, it is seasonal and boy is it vain.

Tess says I'm gorgeous and she loves it. I doubt the gorgeous part. She's just being nice. She shoulda said "Hey, what's all that white crap all over the front of your coat? Eyebrow dandruff? Were you doing a cop imitation and snarfing on powdered sugar doughnuts???"

The answer is -- snow. Jessica was standing off to my left, and she threw a handful of snow in the air right as Michelle took my picture. One split microsecond later and that picture would have been of me killing her for getting snow all up in my face and shit. There is nothing I hate more than snow in my face. Almost any other substance on earth, but not snow in my face. Ever.

Foolish child.

Smitty emailed me and said that's a fabulous picture of me up there on the first page. I don't think it's THAT great, but it's decent. So I let my ego shine and shine, instead of putting my dogs or kids or some plants or something on the first page.

I still can't believe Aaron is going to Antarctica. I mean -- dude. Antfreakinarctica. Damn.

A&M&G split while we were in church in order to get back home to Bah Hahbah before it was too dark... Aaron has a load of stuff to do in the next 2 weeks to get completely ready to leave. Michelle will do Christmas with her family (they live in Maine too) and she will probably come be with us for New Years.

We'll set up a shrine to Senor Cocoanuts because he won't be whooping it up with us. He'll be in ... another hemisphere! Getting freaky with a tiki won't be nearly as much fun without him.

I just went to link to the Freaky Tiki Picture Show from last year and all the thumbnail graphics are missing off the index. Fuuuuuuddddddge. Only I didn't say Fudge.

Yet another thing for me to fix. I'm thinking I may take down some of the much older picture shows and go through the site and pare things down. I'm sure I'm well over quota again but my host hasn't nailed me with a warning yet. Sigh. New Years resolution...

so speaking of pictures... I guess I'll leave you with some from the weekend. I'm kind of tired of sitting in this chair, I've been here for hours tweeking the site layout. I will have some more content to talk about tomorrow.

probably the best picture I've taken of jessie in years. since the fall picture with the leaves in the front of her bib overalls. this is christmas card worthy	too bad i can't get geoff to make a nice face when i take HIS picture. meh.
same here -- she looks all cute and what's he doing. making a silly face	aah. the girl thinks she can throw snow at the mamma. she doesn't know she'll be dead if she does... mwa ha.
aaron and michelle, and if you look closely, you'll see he is licking her left sunglass lens.	aaron and doug comparing their... stiff appendages. mwa ha. aaron looks like he is READY for antarctica dude!