Saturday, December 27, 2008

short, sweet, to-the-point, and no pictures

Chip arrived here on Christmas Eve. There was more than one of us that cried, we were all so happy to see him!

There are pictures to come, as well as a report on Alice's newest doings (namely, Pulling Up and Real True Hands and Knees Crawling and Clapping). But right now we're doing our best to enjoy these precious few days together as a family before the three of us jump in the car to do the long trek home.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

the laws of cream: my thoughts

So there you have it, my dear internets. The Laws of Cream, in all their glory: Intro, Law 1, Law 2, Law 3, Law 3A, and Law 4.

I'm an odd one, I know, but can I tell you how HAPPY I am that the Laws of Cream are out there in the ether, for all to see? Bring on the CREAMIES, I tell you! I should also thank The Wife, luminous and always wonderful, who FOUND the Laws of Cream in some deep dark archive and resurrected them for me to publish here. Thank you, my friend, you're the bestest.

The cool thing about the whole concept of CREAM, is that it's such a great meefee (MFE: metaphor for everything, another little vocabulary tidbit I'm dropping in here for you). And there are different levels of cream-- for instance, in case you wondered, my husband is CHOCOLATE MILK. And I know quite a few whipped creamies. And different kinds of ice creamies. You get the idea.

Cream is out there, for you to discover, for you to know. And I love the fact that I've met so many other creamy folk through this blog. So happy Christmas to all of you lovely lovely folks.

Enjoy the day. Remember why we're celebrating it. Spread love and joy and cheer and know that we're all here to help each other.


Tuesday, December 23, 2008

an interruption; all i want for christmas is...


Why is this all I want for Christmas? Because Alice and I are currently enveloped in the love, warmth, and SNOW that is Utah and my parents' house. Because Chip is NOT here with us. He is Elsewhere, making his way HERE. Because he just might not make it HERE due to snow and ice and other nasty weather conditions that make travel nigh near impossible. Or impassable, as the case may be here.

Chip is driving, accompanied by my very-much-missed laptop-- traveling through the wildlands of Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and eventually - eventually UTAH. We don't know if he's going to make it in time, but I can hope and hope and hope....

So I've been husbandless and laptopless, which is why you really haven't heard much from me except for these here Laws of Cream, which I dutifully wrote and scheduled before we left Seattle last week. Tricksy, I know! Am sitting on dad's computer right now as he holds The Creamiest Little Girl in the World on his lap. She is thoroughly enjoying all the attention.

Now let's get a little interaction going, my friends, because I MISS you. So tell me what type of cream you deem yourself to be. And if I hear any of you saying that you're cottage cheese, there will be TROUBLE. And perhaps, if you play your cards right, an INTERVENTION.

the laws of cream: #4 The Cottage Cheese Principle

Whatever. Read the intro, Law #1, Law #2, Law #3, Law #3A before you go on.

4. The Cottage Cheese Principle

Cottage cheese is cream gone MAD. A cottage cheese person is someone who has simply forgotten their creaminess and all that it entails. They find themselves inexplicably dating orange juice or other juice products - and even going so far as to hang out in their aisle at the grocery store. It goes further when they fail to recognize other creamy people. While this usually is merely a stage before they lose all creaminess entirely - in rare instances they can be saved. Through an intensive process involving a lot of creamy activity, the whey can be drained away to reveal a nice creamy lump of cheese.

Monday, December 22, 2008

the laws of cream: #3A The Orange Julius Clause

Are you really tuning in NOW, after missing the introduction, the first law, the second law, AND the third law? I'm not sure there is any hope for you. If, however, you're all up to speed on The Laws of Cream, read on...

3A. The Orange Julius Clause

The Supreme and Creamy Whimsy has been made aware that there is a very rare, very strange, very inexplicable and (let's put even more emphasis on this:) RARE occurrence when cream and orange juice somehow meld to create something interesting-- let's call it the Orange Julius Effect and know that it's out there. But it's so freakishly rare (there's that word again) that we can't be sure it has ever even happened. Just know that we are ever so slightly open to the fact that yes, on some very spare occasions, cream and OJ can be friends. It's just really weird. Remember: creamsicles aren't for everyone.

Tune in tomorrow for the final law (at this point, at least): Law #4: The Cottage Cheese Principle

Saturday, December 20, 2008

the laws of cream: #3 Unmixy Things

If you're just tuning in now, read the introduction, the first law, and the second law. Much more understandable that way.

3. Unmixy Things

Orange juice and cream do not mix. DO NOT MIX. DO. NOT. MIX. Do I need to say this any other way? We can all coexist in the supermarket refrigerator aisle, happy to be kept cool and frosty, but we really don't taste good together. We can even hang out on the same table, and enjoy breakfast-- each offering our own contributions. But remember: you are not orange juice; they are not cream.

Tune in Monday for Law #3A: The Orange Julius Clause

Friday, December 19, 2008

the laws of cream: #2 Something About Orange Juice

If you're just tuning in now, read the introduction and the first law - it'll make a lot more sense.

2. Something About Orange Juice

Orange Juice is lovely, but it is NOT CREAMY. There are a lot of perfectly wonderful people in the world who are not creamy. They don't have an ounce of dairy in them. They are orange juice. They might even appear to be creamy, but in actuality they are CALCIUM-ENRICHED ORANGE JUICE. Maybe even with some extra pulp. But do I need to say this again? THEY ARE NOT CREAMY. Most of these orange juicers don't know about cream. They don't care about cream. They don't even want to BE cream (hard to believe, I know). Remember, some people in this world are cursed to be lactose intolerant. And while we may not understand their aversion to us, we must soldier on. Minions, let them live their cream-less lives. Do not fret over it. But if, say, some unnamed boy finds himself ATTRACTED TO ORANGE JUICE, see Law #1: Cream Knows Cream, and don't worry about it. Move on.

Tune in tomorrow for Law #3: Unmixy Things

Thursday, December 18, 2008

the laws of cream: #1 Cream Knows Cream

If you're just tuning in now, read the introduction first. It'll make a lot more sense.

1. Cream Knows Cream

We recognize each other, even from a distance. There are some people who may not know the actual term for what they are (creamy), but inevitably they know there's something a little different about them in comparison to most of the non-creamy world. Don't forget this one, as it will bring you much solace when you're feeling like you're invisible. CREAM KNOWS CREAM. If there's someone in the same room that's creamy, they will inevitably recognize your butter fat. And if they don't? IT IS NOT YOUR JOB TO CONVINCE THEM THAT YOU'RE CREAMY. And if you start feeling like you DO need to try to explain this to someone, or to give them reasons why you're so great, GET THEE HENCE, AND SEEK OUT SOME MINIONS, WHO WILL PROMPTLY PUMMEL YOU ABOUT THE HEAD UNTIL YOU ACQUIESCE.

Tune in tomorrow for Law #2: Something About Orange Juice.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

the laws of cream: an introduction

Once upon a time, I had me some Minions. Oh dude, if you've never had Minions, you definitely need to try it, because a nice posse of Minions is FANTASTIC. We were one glorious group of weird folks and we had a lot of fun together: group birthday party (how is it POSSIBLE that we were all born in JANUARY?), loud restaurant get-togethers, odd and strangely hilarious late-night outings to Target, numerous movie adventures (with ACTION FIGURES, OH MY WORD)... anyway we're all spread across the country now. In most cases, I'm happy to say that they're still my Minions, even if they're so far away.

My Minions... they are astounding women. Women of character. Women of strength. Women of tremendous humor. Women who kick some serious trash. And yet... isn't it funny how the world tends to beat these fabulous people down? The world doesn't recognize their greatness. Or if it does, it responds to their super powers with fear. These women, these Minions, they're CREAMY. Rich in depth and tenacity and truth and art.

I wrote these laws for my Minions. Because everyone needs a reminder to never compromise true beauty.

Tune in tomorrow for Law #1: Cream Knows Cream.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

v is for vocabulary

Everyone has it: a personal vocabulary that makes the conversations you have so precisely yours. Words you've made up, words you've changed, words that have different meanings--- so much so that a person on the outside just wouldn't get it.

I want to hear about some of your personal vocabulary, and I'll tell you a little bit about mine. Over the next few days, I'll be posting something momentous: The Laws of Cream. It's momentous because they are the whole reason this blog is called The Creamery. They quite literally define how I relate to the world.

But for starters, let's hear from you. Tell me about some of your personal vocab: words or phrases that you use, and what they mean.

Monday, December 15, 2008

notes from under water

Friday, 4pm
Out the door, on the way to church to decorate for the Christmas breakfast
Wearing cute mary jane Crocs. A little bit slippery in the garage. Perhaps they aren't the right footwear for winter, but there isn't a lot of time to change.

Friday, 4:20pm
In the kitchen at the church, unloading the car to decorate for the Christmas breakfast
Have taken a royal spill on the slippery kitchen floor: hit head on refridgerator and banged up foot on a rolling kitchen cart. The Crocs were a bad idea.

Friday, 8:00pm
Coming in from the garage, after decorating the church for the Christmas breakfast
Another tumble on the garage floor, nearly doing the splits: have banged up and bloodied knee. Conclusion: clearly not winter shoes.

Friday, 8:30pm
Putting Bean to bed
She appears to be sniffling a lot - maybe she's gotten the cold I've been wrestling.

Friday, 9:00pm
Settling Bean back to bed
Hmmm she's not breathing very well. I'm thinking she has the cold I've been wrestling.

Friday, 10:00pm
Settling Bean back to bed. Again.
There is snot. A lot of snot. She definitely has the cold I've been wrestling.

Friday, 11:30pm
Picking a crying Bean up out of her crib and waking Chip to get the humidifier
No question: it's the cold.

Friday, 11:50pm
Putting a restless Bean back into her crib as Chip lugs the humidifier into Bean's room
Whimsy (whispers): Did you fill it up with the right amount of water?
Chip (whispers back): Yes. (Puts humidifier on floor and plugs it into the nearby power strip)
Whimsy (whispers): Did you plug it in?
Chip (louder whisper): Yes.
Whimsy (louder whisper): I don't see a light! There's supposed to be some kind of light! Did you read the directions?
Chip (louder whisper): OF COURSE I READ THE DIRECTIONS.
Whimsy (even louder whisper): THEN WHERE'S THE LIGHT?
Chip (shrugs, leaves room)
Whimsy (scratches head, stares at humidifier, fusses with it because she notices that it is not emitting any steam)

Friday, 12:00am
Whimsy continues to fuss with the humidifier (quietly) and then walks into master bedroom to find Chip
Whimsy (not whispering): It would help if the power strip was ON.
Chip: Oh.

Friday, 12:05am
Loud cry from Bean, Whimsy and Chip go into her room to find her still struggling to breathe, the humidifier is (STILL) not working
Whimsy (no whisper in sight): Why don't you hold Alice and I'll figure this stupid thing out.
Chip (grabs Alice): Sounds good.
Alice: (wimper)
Humidifier: (obstinant silence) At least my light is on, dudes.

Friday, 12:35am
Whimsy reads the instructions and figures out the problem
Whimsy (to Chip): Um, it needed more water. And salt.
Chip: Salt? Really?
Whimsy: Yes, salt. And that eucalyptus stuff we add to the water.
Humidifier: (gurgles happily)

Friday, 1:00am
Alice is still crying. Now in the master bedroom where we are trying to have her sleep with us.
Whimsy: Maybe we need to use the bogey sucker.
Chip: Good idea. I'll hold baby, you do the sucking.
Whimsy: Ha ha. (grabs bogey sucker)
Bogey sucker: Suck suck suck

Friday, 1:15am
Still crying.
Chip: She has quite a set of pipes on her, this one.
Whimsy: You're telling me.

Friday, 1:30am
Master bedroom, Chip has left the room to get a glass of water
Whimsy, to Alice: Maybe you just need to be in my arms. Every time we put you down, you cry. Let's just lay here on the bed on my pillow with you in my arms. How's that?
Alice: Wahh! Huh? Hmmm. Okay, maybe this is alright.
Whimsy's neck: What are you doing to me, woman?

Friday, 1:35am
Master bedroom, Chip walks back into room to find Alice asleep in Whimsy's arms
Chip: (smiles)
Alice: (snores)
Whimsy: (WIDE AWAKE)

Friday, 1:50am, 2:20am, 2:40am, 3:00am, 3:15am, 4:00am, 4:10am, 4:15am, 5:00am
Master bedroom
Chip: (snore)
Alice: (wimper, move, turn, snort, wimper, struggle)
Whimsy: (WIDE AWAKE)

Friday, 5:05am
Master bedroom
Chip: (snore)
Alice: (snore)
Whimsy: (snore)

Friday, 5:30am
Master bedroom
Whimsy's phone which is moonlighting as an alarm clock: VIBRATE VIBRATE VIBRATE
Whimsy: Oh dude. We have to get up for the Christmas breakfast.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

on making things: a note to myself

Dear Self,

Don't make it. Just don't. The exact color scheme you're dreaming of in a fabric? It doesn't exist. And even if it does, it will require you to buy 4,323 other bits of fabric, oddments, accessories, and pom-poms to get the look you're going for. And once you get home with the largish bag of items to make the 4-inch-square doodad you're imagining? You will realize that you just spent $77 for something that was going to cost you $30 (plus shipping).

Let's not even start on the amount of work you need to do to transform the pile of scraps that is sitting on your worktable into something serviceable. Remember, there are fourteen other projects hiding under the worktable that also need your attention. Projects that were only going to take "a minute". A minute = 2 months, give or take a week. Projects take time. And energy. Things that you have in short supply right now.

Self, I'm not kidding. Don't make the thing. Be happy with the approximation you found at the store. Know that you'll be able to use it immediately upon opening! That you won't be waiting to wear it in the spring (when it was supposed to be for the winter) or that Alice will be able to enjoy it thoroughly while she still can. At the rate you're going, she's going to be driving a car by the time you're finished.

I know you have mad skills, self. You do! And most times your little creations come out looking fantastic. But seriously, you need to make room for the 1 in 3 times when the end result is a little... less than savory. Because it really does happen: the thing you've been thinking about in that noggin of yours materializes as... something else. Something that you'll never be happy with. Something that looks goofy. Something that doesn't work all that well. I know you think you can fix it. I know you think that just one more trip to the fabric store is the answer. But you know as well as I do that once is never enough. That the second trip leads to the third which leads to the fourth and before you know it you're working on the World's Most Expensive Flimflam. And it's six months later and the one you could have bought in the first place is on sale. For half off. With free shipping.

Just go buy it instead and we'll all be happier.


Tuesday, December 9, 2008

there's one every year

I'm taking nominations for Most Annoying Holiday TV Commercial. My vote goes to the Hallmark singing cards one with the lady that follows her toddler around the house trying to get him to say Merry Christmas. Mostly he just babbles and walks away. At the end of the commercial, the card has been sent to some grand parents and they open it to hear a little song and then this voice (and this is the part that kills me) saying some version of "Merry Christmas". This voice? Does not belong to the kid. You can tell it doesn't belong to the kid. IT DOESN'T BELONG TO ANY KID. IT'S, LIKE, SOME STUPID CARTOON VERSION OF SOME FORTY-YEAR-OLD WOMAN TRYING TO SOUND LIKE A KID. A KID WHO CAN'T SAY MERRY CHRISTMAS. I hate this commercial so much. And yet I watch it every time it comes on: waiting to hear the crappy fake voice. It's the Holiday Train Wreck Commercial of 2008.

So that's my nomination. What's yours?

Friday, December 5, 2008

a day in the life

Chip has been out of town on business all week long. And Alice is a little bit weary of me. I woke her yesterday morning with the promise of a photo documentary of our day! Doesn't that sound exciting!

Morning wakefullness - hanging out in crib while Momma runs around for a couple of minutes (laundry, pee, brush teeth, get dressed...that would be Momma running around; Alice is too cute to do laundry, pees in a diaper, doesn't have teeth to brush, but does have a personal manservant to dress her each day.)

Pose for requested modeling of hats. (During breakfast - oh the humanity!) And yes, this is a different one than was posted on Wednesday.

Miss Alice deigns us worthy of a smile.

Morning nap time: cats included.

AWAKE from morning nap and doing our best to make ourselves known to the cats. Do you think Fergus is aware of Alice? Yes, I do too.

The illusive Profile Shot.

More posing for pictures. There is hunger growing.

But not enough to preclude a smile.

There was another nap in between this part... I make a bad photo documentarian. But I do make for a wonderful Baby Toy Fashion Editor. Look at all those hat-wearing cuties!

Fine. So Alice could have cared less, but I thought they looked smashing. Check out Piggy sporting the egg separator, and Teddy with the 1/4 cup measuring cup. Tres chic!

Our favorite part of the evening: the pre-bedtime snack (Cheerios!).

Pre-bathtime wrestling match.

Tired girl.

Oscar, the bath-loving octopus.

Pink ice cream cone, freshly washed.

Last bottle. Good night...

Thursday, December 4, 2008

yes this post contains yet another question

Well aren't you all just the sweetest, helping me out in my Great Toy Search. Sounds like a sorting thingy, stacking thingy, and a ball are the clear winners. Now I'm faced with which ONE. (Let's insert an aside here to explain to you that I am, um, a wee bit particular about a toy's, um, aesthetics. Let's just say that I'm not a fan of Ugly Things. So it makes the toy shopping very interesting. And also tricksy.) On another note: the idea from Kristen was also brilliant, with the box and the random household stuff... exactly up Bean's aisle.

Inadvertently, this week has turned into Questions Week at The Creamery. Every post I've had questions for y'all. (Well, every post except for my Mad Rant on Tuesday evening because THE PIANO-PLAYING, IT WOULD NOT STOP. Though I really do need to write a post about that guy. I have some seriously funny stories.) Ahem.

Anyway. Today I want to know about blogs. What makes you visit a particular blog? And what makes you go back? And even further - what then inspires you to start commenting on the blog? I'm just so darn curious about it.

I don't have a blog roll over there on the right for a few reasons. One, I think I read a healthy number of blogs (healthy meaning A LOT OF THEM), and I'm a little embarrassed over the sheer number of them. Two, I wouldn't know how to sort them if I did list them: alphabetically? chronologically? by association? And three, even if I did actually list them all and then figure out how to sort them on the page, I just know I'd forget one or two or five and I'd feel bad. Like they didn't get a Christmas card (NOW DON'T GO FEELING BAD - I DON'T SEND CHRISTMAS CARDS BECAUSE I AM LAZY). Anyway: I don't have a 'roll.

Lately I've taken to visiting blogs in the order I have them in my Favorites list, but even that method is flawed because I miss some dearly loved blogs depending on which computer I'm on (laptop or desktop - don't have the same Favs list and I'm just too L-A-Z-Y to make them the same).

But we weren't really talking about my weird blog visiting habits, were we? We were talking about WHY we visit certain blogs, and WHY we return to some again and again, and then WHY we actually start commenting. I guess for me, the answer is about feeling inspired, or entertained, or connected. It's got to be one of those three (and if I'm lucky, more than one of three). I'll sort of skim a blog for a while, see if it catches my attention - and when I find that I've gone there a few times, or find that I just can't leave, I know it's destined to become (yet another) Favorite.

As for why I am compelled to comment - I'm not a frequent commenter. I should say that now so you aren't thinking I DON'T HEAR FROM YOU THAT OFTEN, MS. WHIMSY. Rest assured that I visit. I do. I just... well, I do comment whenever I can. I used to comment all the time, because I know how much I love the comments, and figure that other people feel the same way. These days, however, I'm literally standing at the kitchen table reading for 2 minutes before Alice comes over and rams my toes repeatedly with Speedracer (read: walker) to let me know that I am summoned to Play. So there's that. The other reason is that I can't be witty on command. And I so want to be Witty Whimsy. But I'm not. When I come up with a real winner (at least in my book), you can bet that I'm frantically typing a comment. Other times, I want to just let the blogger know that I understand, or I have a similar thought, or Hey, That's Funny. Every once in a while I'll get a comment or an email back because of a comment, and it always makes me feel good. (And just so you know, I am not tech savvy or blogger savvy or whatever enough to understand the whole emailing-back thing based on a comment, so again: I LOVE your comments, but you probably won't ever get a bloggy thank you note from me). Wow, I'm coming off as a real Winner here, aren't I?

Anyway, I try to keep things fairly rooted (read: mired in, drowning in, souped up to the gills in) reality around here. Those are the blogs that I love the most: the ones that tell me about someone's life and thoughts and dreams without putting on a foggy/fuzzy filter.

What about you?

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

i got tired of looking at the fabric

For the last looooong while I have returned to knitting (it's the colder weather, I tell you). I haven't done a lot of sewing - though I have plans for that, too, if only I could sprout a few more pairs of arms.

Speaking of which - there's an air freshener commercial that has a cartoon octopus housewife talking about how important it is to have a clean and good-smelling house, and dude every time I see it, I envy that creature her eight arms. I could just get so much done
if I had an extra set!


Barring any sort of extra-arm-having, I've been knitting. More hats (hence the photos). I am also working on a sweater for Bean. She might be in college by the time I finish it, but gosh darn it, I want to make her a sweater!

I'm now going to end this and go back to knitting. (And if I had an extra set of arms you just know that I'd stay here with you a while longer. Sigh.)

using the internet for good

That would be for MY OWN good, thank you. Alice is (nearly) nine-months-old. She'll be (nearly) ten-months-old at Christmas time (you: gee, Whimsy, you're good at math!). Alice is not going to remember this Christmas. It is a Photo Opportunity, pretty much. And will be a good time for my parents and us, naturally, because, duh: Alice's First Christmas.

I want to have a few presents for her, and they will mostly be practical things that she needs already: sleepers, a heavier coat, some onesies. Beyond these basic things, though, I'd like to get her one or two toys. Things that she'll enjoy and use for a while... So here's my conundrum: I don't know what to get her. She's at a tricky age that makes a trek down the baby gadget aisle a lot less fruitful. I can't get her a rattle or a chew toy (dude it sounds like I'm picking out rawhide doggie treats for my kid) or a set of plastic keys. Heaven help us, I'm contemplating actually perusing the TOY AISLES and the mere idea of it is giving me hives. I need IDEAS, people.

My criteria:
- I don't want to spend a lot of money, I'm aiming for middle range. Think affordable.
- We don't have a ton of room for bulky items: so unless an ACTIVITY TABLE is, like, accompanied by a choir of angels and heavenly music, I don't see us investing in one. Think respectably portable.
- My hope (is this insanity?) is that we can get her a couple of toys that she'll be interested in for longer than 5 minutes or even 2 months. Think longevity.

So there you have it, my crazy desire to buy my daughter a couple of toys that she'll like for a while, that will not break the bank, that will not crowd us out of house and home, and will not drive me batty.

I have considered some kind of stacking toy (those colorful ring things) or some kind of shape sorter or those ball things with little things inside them (read: the things with the things that do the thingy thing...).

Help me, internets. Any ideas? Stuff that your kids or nieces or nephews have loved? Something you think would just rock Alice's world (more than the measuring cups she's currently in love with)?


Tuesday, December 2, 2008

this just in

I might KILL our next door neighbor. Because we live in a townhouse, we share a wall with the dude. The hairy, recumbent bike-riding, shorts-wearing, very untamed beard-having, PIANO-PLAYING dude. Note the emphasis on PIANO PLAYING. The wall we share? Is our living room wall. Is the wall he so helpfully has his GRAND PIANO next to. Is the very-effective sound-carrying wall directly below Alice's room. AND ALICE IS SLEEPING RIGHT NOW. But I'm afraid it's not going to last long (the sleeping; there is no end in sight to the piano playing).

Normally he plays from about 5pm to 8pm. This is fine. It is after the 8 o'clock hour that I have ISSUES with. Because Alice? The ears of a bat, people! She hears EVERYTHING.

Pray for me.

more confessions

I killed my goldfish when I was eight by putting Yardley of London Soft Soap (lavender scent) into his fishbowl...while he was still in it. I thought he wanted to take a bubble bath.

Totally dead to any sort of new toys with Christmas on the horizon, in the past little while I've given Alice the following "toys": measuring cups (1/4 cup and 1/2 cup, if you must know), an egg separator, a Goofy mint tin that's been taped shut (with some of the Goofy cinnamints still helpfully trapped inside - they make a very satisfying clank clank as they are slowly being shaken into powdery oblivion by my daughter), a hot pad that previously belonged to the cats (What? It has a chicken on it! Fergus is in love with the chicken! He chases it all around the house!), and two golf balls (most recent additions). I know, am mother of the YEAR.

I don't know a single thing about operating systems, nor do I care to know anything about operating systems. And yet, yesterday I had a dream in the wee hours of the morning about Windows Vista. At the time, it was a hilarious madcap dream (full of the hijinks and craziness you can expect from Microsoft, no doubt) about people trying to slip Vista into computers without their owners being aware....... if possible, it actually makes even less sense now as I write this.

I ordered something from Target online yesterday and the estimated delivery date is... (wait for it)... JANUARY 5. Hello? That's not until next year.

Okay, that last one isn't a confession, but can you believe that madness? Next YEAR. Now it's your turn. Give me some confessions, internets.

Monday, December 1, 2008

business items

I wondered how long I could keep up that last post and still get some mileage - seems that six days is about the limit, like you mean to say YOU GUYS ACTUALLY WANT TO READ SOME NEW STUFF FROM ME? Go figure.

Let's start with the polite questions:
How was everyone's Thanksgiving? Did we all kill ourselves off with the cooking and the baking and the hand wringing and the shopping and the (yet more) cooking and baking and shopping? All for a meal that lasts, hmm, about 90 minutes? And then you're faced with the CLEAN UP? Yes? Oh, and wasn't it glorious!

I did the entire meal, start to finish, by myself, and I have to say that I'm proud of the job I did, along with the job we did on the leftovers for the next three days. Thankfully, our refrigerator is seeing the ends of the meal, and I'm a little relieved not to be faced with the sheer HORROR of choosing between stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey, OR vegetables. Next week I'll return to my wistful longings for the stuff, but today? I'm happy to eat a sandwich instead.

And in other news, can I tell you how much I HATE Verizon? HATE. Searing HATE. H. A. T. E. HATE. Hate them. They inexplicably send late notices every month, even though I am paid up! Paid up, I tell you! I get the horrible Nervous Tummy (hi Tessie!) every time I get one of their notices, and then I call and they're all - NO, you're all paid up, thanks! I don't understand, only to think that it's a conspiracy.

Another Irritant is a just-about-nine-month-old cutie who has again gone on a Nap Strike. It's possible that I threw my husband and child out of the house on Saturday afternoon, begging them to just Go Do Something while I checked email and did some work for an hour.

Tell me: what's irritating you right now?