Month: December 2007

  • In retrospect, I think Rocky was responsible for the fall of communism and other ponderings

    I’m sitting here doing what most people do on Christmas night…watching Rocky IV. Who needs “Miracle on 34th Street” when you can watch a real holiday classic?

    As I sit here basking in the glow of Rocky Balboa chopping wood to prepare for his big fight against the Russian who killed Apollo Creed, a few things are on my mind.

    1. Should I be concerned that Cinderella’s bangs look just like mine did throughout my junior year in high school?

    2. Has anyone else been eating the toffee? Because it’s almost gone and I’m afraid I’m the only one eating it.

    3. If I am, in fact, the only one eating it, how can I make myself stop?

    4. Where am I going to store all the wee Polly Pocket purses and shoes that Santa brought?

    5. How does Rocky do that exercise where he lifts the entire bottom half of his body off the table using nothing but his abdominal muscles? I think I’m going to need to do about 841 reps of those to put a dent in the damage done by the toffee.

    I was planning on writing a post detailing our Christmas festivities, but I’m too worn out from all the big fun tonight. Plus, Rocky and the Russian are about to fight.

    I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

    I sure hope Rocky wins.

  • My Christmas angel

    Is it just me or does the look in her eye not really go with the costume?

    Merry Christmas, y’all.

  • O traffic jam, o traffic jam

    Okay, so I can’t stay away. I thought I could step away for a few days but, apparently, I HAVE AN ADDICTION, SIR.

    On Friday night we took Caroline down to the FAMOUS San Antonio Riverwalk to walk amongst the Christmas lights. What we did not factor in was the amount of traffic downtown due to the state 5A finals and, oh yeah, CHRISTMAS.

    We ate dinner and then attempted to drive closer to the river to find a place to park. P was driving and Bops was in the backseat with Mimi and Caroline. The traffic was backed up for what seemed like miles and we kept watching the light change from green back to red while we never moved an inch.

    I believe it’s what the big city folk call gridlock.

    We could see that people kept pulling up and blocking the intersection, thereby inhibiting our traffic progress. Bops, in a fit of Christmas cheer and goodwill toward men, said, “They ought to have policeman in these intersections with sticks of dynamite. If there’s a car in the middle of the intersection after the light’s changed, they should just blow it up. Tell the driver they have 10 seconds to get out, but the car is history.”

    If any of y’all thought that he was going to say perhaps the policemen should just hand out tickets, as opposed to sticks of dynamite, you’re not alone.

    We finally made our way to a parking garage where we watched the attendant let the car ahead of us in and then, very rudely, tell us it was full. For about five seconds I thought Caroline was about to learn some new colorful descriptions, courtesy of Bops and P, but they both caught themselves in time.

    That would have been the Christmas gift that keeps on giving.

    Caroline was equally frustrated with the traffic and repeatedly yelled, “GO GRANDMA!! JUST GO!!”

    I have no idea where she learned that.

    Road rage is part of our family legacy.

    After the futile parking attempt that nearly resulted in Bops getting out of the car to experience Christmas joy in the form of telling off a parking attendant, we found a place and headed down to the river. It was totally worth it even though Caroline’s goal for the evening was to give me a heart attack by seeing how close she could get to the water while looking up at the lights.

    Because here’s something I’d never noticed about the Riverwalk before, there is nothing separating the water from the walkways. You’re just one or six margaritas away from just falling on in, depending on your alcohol tolerance. I have no doubt this is a strategic move on the part of the city because it’s a $250 fine if you fall in.

    Bars serving alcohol + Narrow walkways + River = SERIOUS COIN for the city

    I spent the rest of the weekend in a cooking frenzy. For the first time ever, I am cooking the entire holiday meal. I am so excited to use my china that I actually went ahead and set the table.

    Look! Christmas plates that have never seen the light of day until now.

    I also made my famous eggnog, complete with the most essential item for a stress-free Christmas.

    Oh I kid. We all know that’s not enough bourbon to make Christmas stress-free.

    Especially not if you’re heading down to the Riverwalk to look at the lights.

  • Merry Christmas

    Welcome to our world-nativity scene

    I don’t know how much I’ll be posting over the next few days, but I had to share this.

    If at any point, in the midst of all the cooking and last minute shopping and family stress, you forget why we are celebrating, watch this.

    Hope y’all have a very blessed and Merry Christmas. I wish you all peace, love and joy.

  • A very special edition of Fashion Friday

    I should know better than to bring up an extremely controversial topic right in the middle of the holidays. After all, the Christmas season has enough landmines already, what with all the relatives coming to visit and ongoing debates over who has custody of crazy Aunt Gertie and her six cats for the holidays.

    But, I’m not going to let that deter me. I’m going to open up this can of worms and let it fly. And is there really anything more disgusting than flying worms and a sentence with too many cliches?

    Let’s discuss the holiday sweater.

    Personally, I am not a fan. People know it’s Christmas and they don’t need to see a reindeer flying across my chest to remind them that there are only four shopping days left. That being said, there was an unfortunate period in the late 80’s where I owned and WORE a sweater that looked very much like this.

    Tragic.

    I’m sure there were caribou all over the world weeping at being depicted in this knitwear tribute to bad taste.

    Now before I get a lot of comments and emails, let me say that I know that some of y’all are probably fans of the holiday sweater and that is great. Good for you and your devotion to festivity. My very dear friend’s mama wears blinking Christmas light earrings and elf shoes throughout the month of December and it works for her. It’s part of her charm.

    And I know there are some lovely holiday sweaters out there that have festive snowmen and sequined nutcrackers and jeweled snowflakes. You just won’t see me wearing them. It’s my personal preference to not dress with a theme.

    Although there was an unfortunate incident in 1993 where I wore a cheetah-print shirt to the Omaha Zoo. But the Lord has been faithful to bring healing and restoration.

    All that being said, I think we can all agree that the following photos of holiday sweaters should serve as a cautionary tale. There isn’t enough spiked eggnog in the world to make these better.

    Bows. Teddy Bears. Wreaths. Oh my.

    Nothing says bad taste like the Christmas cat.

    Surrounded by snowflakes.

    Well, except for the Christmas turtle.

    Surrounded by snowflakes.

    There is nothing that will make you look bigger than life than having a brick wall around your midsection.

    I have issues with anything that could cause my front side to look like there is a skier zooming down mountains. Or even small hills.

    And last, but certainly not least, the sweater vest. I can’t look at these without remembering the year I attended a Christmas formal with a boy that wore a Christmas-themed sweater vest.

    Sometimes I still wake up crying.

    What is it about Christmas that makes folks want to break out the teddy bears? What have the teddy bears ever done to us?

    This appears to be angels being struck by lightning. I’m not sure what that has to do with Christmas.

    Here’s something for you to think about. Why are there no bad Hannukah sweaters? Or Chanukah, depending on your preference. Where are the atrocious Kwanzaa sweaters? I think I smell a holiday conspiracy.

    The Christmas sweater has taken on a life of its own. In fact, while I was doing EXTENSIVE research for this post I discovered that fraternities all over America are having themed Ugly Christmas Sweater keg parties.

    And I think that’s what makes me the saddest. When I was in college, back in the early 90’s, the irony of the Christmas sweater would have been completely lost on us because many of us were actually wearing the reindeer sweater. Don’t think because the tag said “Ralph Lauren” that makes it any better. You are fooling yourself.

    Also, how can I get myself invited to one of these parties? I may have a few sweaters in storage that would be perfect.

  • Great news and a thank you

    I just heard from Kristie. The results of the MRI are in and they’re good. No fluid on the brain, no infection and no strokes.

    They should be able to identify the bacteria by later today.

    She said to thank all of you for your prayers over the last few days. God is good.