The Guilt Free Time Vortex

I find today completely fascinating. It's New Year's Eve. The last day of 2006. Today, people all over the world are trying to figure out what things they want to change in their lives and making resolutions. It is, however, imperative that they figure these resolutions out as early as possible in order to enjoy the "guilt free time vortex" properly.

This particular time void occurs ONLY at the end of a year, AFTER you have made your New Year's Resolutions, and BEFORE the new year really begins (or the hangover, in which case it technically can be pushed out until which time you manage to sober up and figure out you shouldn't have eaten that, drank that, or slept with... well, you get the picture.) Once you have your "Wonderful New You" resolutions in place, it's generally time to climb bodily into the refrigerator and eat everything in sight, followed by dressing in skimpy scandalous clothing and heading out to a large party full of intoxicated people where you can dance on table tops, sing opera to a cat, and end up swinging from the top of the tallest building in your local township without remorse.

By January 2nd (at the latest... most people do manage to sober up and make bail sometime on the 1st) that day ceases to exist. You didn't actually do those things, or at the very least they don't count. Right? Well, minus the incriminating photos... possibly video... That wasn't you on the news proposing to a fire hydrant. Couldn't be. Well, even if it was, it doesn't matter because they were all things you did LAST year, and now you have your fabulously shiny New Year's resolutions to guide you!

In truth, I find New Year's resolutions both intriguing and depressing. In some ways, I think it's wonderful that people have such hope and sudden motivation to create change. But on the other hand, usually those changes are unreasonable goals planted in a garden of failure. It's unavoidable at this time of year not to hear people bandying about how they're going to turn themselves into magical creatures and make more money than Bill Gates, be thinner than Paris Hilton, and be nicer than Mother Teresa. Usually these resolutions are made while they are testing their credit limit on their credit cards, eating two dozen donuts, and stepping on top of a homeless man on their way into another store.

As a kid, I remember listening to the adults go on and on about their resolutions with a sort of dread. In my mother's case, this usually meant horrifying new diets that we would all be subjected to over the course of the following year (One memorable evening my parents had a dinner party and served nothing but boiled broccoli - that's it. Nothing else. Not even any butter or sauce.) For my father, the work-a-holic, it meant even less time he would be spending at home until he finally gave up on his quest and resigned his membership at the gym, or new book club or whatever caught his fancy that year.

As nutty as my parents were with their resolutions (not to mention the other resolutions us kids heard as we eavesdropped upstairs from the grown-up's parties), the thought that people felt that they could pick out things they wanted to change and do so was appealing. Of course, being kids my friends and I ended up with resolutions like "I will stop holding my brother's G.I. Joe's hostage." As silly as our resolutions were, we still faced the inevitable fallout (usually within a week) of the impossibility of giving up something we really liked. Holding my brother's G.I. Joe's hostage was a favorite pastime of mine, you don't give up something that powerful lightly.

Truly, isn't that the problem with New Year's resolutions? You wouldn't be engaging in the "bad" behavior you wanted to change, if you didn't LIKE it. Kinda makes the whole "changing for the better" a harder proposition. As I got older, I tried for the standard adult resolutions just like everyone else. I was going to weigh 56 lbs, be a glamazon who always at the very least wore matching socks, and be fabulously brilliant and successful.

I'm sure it will not surprise you that these quickly fell to ruin in January, as did everyone else's, as I finally gave in and ate something other than a carrot stick, wore mismatching everything, and napped through calculus. The period following New Year's is a bit like watching a big race, and seeing people fall along the roadside until eventually you too decide it's just to far to run.

Eventually I figured it out. You don't make resolutions to change, you make them so you can feel good about all the bad things you did, and slip into the time-vortex in order to party the night away on December the 31st with complete abandon. If you want to take it a step further, you can even count the time period you spend on trying to achieve those resolutions as a sort of penance for the New Year's Eve indiscretions. It makes so much more sense now!

So, with this illuminating thought in mind, I plan to be like Mother Teresa next year, and make a fortune like Bill Gates. There. All done. Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go and dig up my most scandalous outfit and prepare for this evening!

The Pitter Patter

It was still dark this morning at 5 a.m. This is not much of a surprise, considering that the sun doesn't rise here until almost 8 a.m. (and it only gets worse until around March. Winter days here are daylight from about 8:25 a.m. until 3:30 p.m. It's no wonder people started doing insane things like sticking spigots into trees and eating the sap - that's maple syrup, folks, aka "sugaring" if you are ever in the middle of a vicious trivial pursuit game. Let it never be said that I didn't impart important information to you!)

Anyway, being that we are on break from both work and school, as well as the fact that I have finally stopped waking up in the middle of the night with a coughing fit, I was really looking forward to sleeping in this week. It has, as of yet, to actually happen. Various things have occurred to thwart my dearest ambition of sleeping past sunrise. Everything from a child crawling into bed with me because of a nightmare, to the wildlife outside making a ruckus, and lets not forget that we have my parents staying with me (I won't go into it, suffice it to say they keep the oddest hours on the planet.)

However, I really thought I would have a shot at it this morning. We covered all our bases. Locked everything that needed locking, fed everything that needed to be fed, opened and closed all the required doors, made sure that everyone that needed a teddy bear had one, you name it. Dagnabbit, we were GOING to sleep in!

Now let me ask you something... Does this look like the face of evil to you?

At 5:03 a.m., to be precise, I heard the most peculiar sounds. It began as a scuffling, then some heavy breathing, and then repeated thumps, and then a horribly loud combination of noises that sounded remarkably like a laundry basket being pushed down an escalator, only to finish with a lot of scratching and then several fast thumps. (Get thy minds out of thine gutter.)

My dog, that deceivingly innocent looking beastie, had discovered that the tennis-balls he received in his stocking were actually something he could play with. Better than that, if he brought them to the top of the stairs, he could nudge it over the top step and watch it bounce halfway down, and then go tearing after it, and skid around the tile at the bottom of the stairs, catch the ball and then dash back up.

Over, and over... and over, and over... AND OVER again.


AT FIVE IN THE MORNING.

He ended up waking the entire household. No one could go back to sleep after all the commotion.

And the worst part?

Could you yell at this?

Stupid Is...

My family and I decided to brave the mall today. It took a lot to get there, but we eventually made it only to discover the entire population had the same darn idea. It was just like Christmas shopping, with disillusioned sad people bumping into one another, and growling - but this time more like hyenas and vultures over the sale merchandise.

Seriously, they were all National Geographic with their gnashing teeth, and extended claws over 50% off toys and holiday decorations sales. Dangerous stuff, I'm telling you. I managed to brave the various scuffles and hot spots to emerge with a seriously discounted black blouse, as well as four new books to read. All in all, a sad, but mildly acceptable hunting expedition.

I think I might have laid claim to more prizes if "the scare" hadn't happened.

We walked into Bath & Body Works, and were immediately besieged by bouncy, vapid, bleached too many times blond sales assistants who, I kid you not, went 100% valley-girl and announced the absolutely "shocking, like, omg!" price of only $3 a bottle of lotion. I seriously choked on a laugh because it caught me so off guard, which then became a cough as I am still recovering from the bronchitis. Trust me, New England is NOT a place you normally hear authentic Valley-Girlese. This, of course, caused the girl to exclaim "Oh, like, like like, like, are you like, like, okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayeeee?"

*more coughing* I would have been FINE if she just didn't say anything. I couldn't help it. I'm horrible, aren't I?

*sigh*

Anyway, we eventually broke free of the Barbie-cling-on to shop when all of the sudden this really odd sound started blaring through the mall. We were in the back of the store, so it sounded particularly peculiar over the new-age-Christmas-water-peace (whatever!) music that was playing. I finally realized it was the fire alarm, and said so to my husband.

No one was particularly concerned - people set those things off all the time. Except, this time the Barbies in the store were running around whispering to each other about the parking garage. I took a moment and tried to decide whether this was an "oh crap" moment or not, considering that was where my car was.

I decided the Barbies were over-reacting. Then the other stores in the mall started suddenly shouting to one another, shoving customers out forcefully, and pulling down their metal gates.

Yeah. Oh crap.

We went back to the store we had entered through and were ushered through the door with a "This is NOT a drill!!! Customers need to exit the mall with haste! Leave all purchases in progress, exit the building, and then get clear of the structures!"

oh. CRAP.

Well, we ended up exiting on the bottom level of the parking garage. We had parked on the third level. It brings me much shame to continue, but it was at this moment we decided it would be just as fast to hop up the flight of stairs get our car and leave as it would to walk out of the parking garage.

Clearly, not eating for several hours had caused a serious lack of IQ. I have no excuse.

We climbed the stairs. By the second level, something didn't smell right. By the third level, as I came eye level with my car I knew I was smelling a natural gas-leak. A BIG natural gas leak.

So what does a pair of really stupid humans do? Why they stick to their bad plan, and jump into the car and try to leave that way. Because we all know turning on a CAR in a GAS FILLED PARKING GARAGE is a good idea, right?

On the way out we heard what was going on with these comforting words ".....yeah there are two major gas lines leading in, and there has been a major breach..."

I'm discomfited to report we weren't the ONLY morons, we had plenty of company in our stupidity. The entire parking garage was crammed with moronic people just like us doing the same thing.

I guess it's official. I'm a lemming.

Being With The Talkers

Today we went to see Night At The Museum. I have to tell you, I seriously debated taking my six-year-old son. You see, those previews made it rather scary looking. So, I did a bunch of research on it (which negated the previews), read reviews and such, and decided to risk it.

I am SO glad I did. My son stood up at the end and said "Mom, that was the BEST MOVIE EVER!!! Can we see it again?"

I saw all the critics reviews slamming the movie, and frankly, they're all idiots. It was a great movie. I don't like Ben Stiller's comedic style - but in this movie, he was just an actor and good at his part. So if you are looking for a "Ben Stiller movie" this isn't it. Nor is it a Robin William's movie. It's just a NICE KIDS MOVIE. Period.

I loved it. My whole family did. If you have kids, I recommend it. But no younger than six-years old.

Now, being that we were in a huge theater packed full of people, I just KNEW someone was going to talk through the whole movie. What I did NOT expect was that those people would be MY OWN PARENTS!

Oh the horror! The shame! The irritation!!!

People talking through movies is one of my BIGGEST pet peeves. I cannot STAND it. You are in a theater to watch a movie - so SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When I went to see Harry Potter IV, I had people next to me, and right behind me talking through EVERY darn minute of film. A whole running commentary, it was UNBELIEVABLE. I was so angry, and turning around did nothing. Asking did nothing ("we paid our money, we can talk if we want") Shushing did nothing. I was ready to draw blood, I kid you not.

So imagine my sheer horror and humiliation when the second the credits started in the beginning of this film my very OWN PARENTS started talking. "Oh, he's in the film, is he? Wasn't he in... What did he say? Is that a real uniform? ....etc"

I thought I was going to die. Being that they're MY parents, I felt that annoyance aside, it was my duty to shut them up. However, when I politely asked my parents to keep it down, they got LOUDER. They were offended that I asked them to be quiet, and got louder as they said things like "What? Does she think we're talking too loud? I didn't think I was talking that loud... oh look Mickey Rooney! I don't know what her problem is, I'm not talking that loud...." No, they didn't get louder to embarrass me, or to make a point. It was simply that they were upset that I asked them to be quiet, and they got louder because they were mad at me.

This in turn caused me to grip my hand rest to keep from smacking them, and clench my teeth so tight that I heard my jaw pop. (ouch)

However, this wasn't accomplishing my mission to shut them up. I didn't know what else to do, except to ask them repeatedly to be quiet. Eventually, they either kept their mumbling to a minimum (or low), or I tuned them out (a gift from being raised - and lectured - by them.)

Still, I couldn't believe it. In my veins runs the genetics of Movie-Blabbers!!! I started searching my memory... were they always like this? Did they always talk through movies, or was this a new thing? If it's a new thing, does this mean that I am at risk of morphing into one of the blabbers? Will I have to lock myself in my house as I age and rely solely on Netflix in order to save the public my annoying babble? Is there a vaccination to protect against this? Genetic therapy? Medication?

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

I'm still in shock over the whole ordeal. I'm so embarassed. Me. I, myself, am related - BY BLOOD - to movie-blabbers. I may never recover from this blow.

*sigh*

And I'm still trying to figure out how to put a DVD movie I already own, onto my iPod (I'm working via Windows.) Help! (actually, I'm so iPod stupid, I'm pretty lost in general - but dagnabbit I want to be able to put a movie or two on it that I already own without having to buy it AGAIN through apple. That's just not fair.)

iPod Movies?

Ok, question - those iPod experts out there... is there any way to get a DVD movie I have already bought onto my iPod? (minus going out to the iPod store and purchasing it, because that's just stupid when I already own the movie.)

Slam It!

Christmas is over, and I am happy to report I actually got a new Mp3 player out of it. This is a huge improvement over the various weird things my husband picked out last year, he's dedicated to the cause of practicality - i.e. socks, appliances, etc. However, for myself, I am honestly addicted to two things: Exercise Equipment (it's a sickness, what can I say?) and sparklie things.

My exercise equipment addiction started many, many moons ago. It began with an exercise bike before I got married, and has morphed into a full scale gym. I take good care of my equipment, so it's not as if I just ran out and threw down thousands of dollars for everything all at once. To answer a recent reader's question, I currently have in my gym:

* A treadmill
* An exercise bike
* A Weider Platinum Cross-bow something or other (multi-purpose home gym)
* A power tower (for pull ups, inclined push ups, leg raises, etc - and yes, I'm still stalled out at 4 full on pull-ups before I need to assist myself. I'm going to break past 5 by the end of January, I'm determined.)
* A pilates reformer
* A bazillion different plates for free weights, with bars (dumbbells, I need a barbell - or better yet, powerblocks. Then I'd stop dropping plates on my toes!)
* An exercise ball
* heavy-duty resistance bands
* An ab roller thing (sit-up assist, I like it for targeting certain areas, but I rarely use it.)
* Various weighted wooden swords, and a couple real ones

I'm sure I have left something out. But in short, I'm pretty well covered in the Gym area. All except for my MP3 player. My old one got me through the marathon I ran in 2004. It survived training in rainstorms, having dumbbells dropped on it, and being flung off into a ditch when I was biking last summer. It has even survived the freezing cold cross country skiing with me. But it has started to skip and complain. In a move that is totally unforgivable, it tends to bail the last few minutes of a HIIT interval when I am running 8+ MPH and can't stop to restart it. Just evil. *sigh*

But no more! Santa brought me an iPod! I'm now not the only person left on the planet without one! And it's perfect timing too, since I am just getting well enough to start working out again. I'm lining up a new training schedule, and just itching to get back into the gym. I'm even planning some races in the spring, since my foot is doing so much better. I suppose most people who get iPods are just excited to listen to the music you can put on it.... me on the other hand, I'm dying to put my training program by music into it and give it a go! I recently saw that Nike is teaming up with iPod to set up a running program where it actually tracks your distance or something : http://www.apple.com/ipod/nike/ Except I didn't get a nano... I wonder if it will still work?

Well, regardless, I'm really excited to get mine set up, and go hit the gym again. Now... I'm going to go play with my free weights... See if they missed me as much as I missed them!

Christmas Explosion

Last night, before bed, we laid down all the rules;

*You may NOT get up early for presents.
*No earlier than 7 a.m., may you make your way downstairs.
*Mommy and Daddy are tired, so you are allowed to get into anything that belongs to your stocking, but nothing else.

All was agreed, and the kids were beside themselves with excitement for morning. I heard my daughter get up four times to check out her window for signs of a sleigh. Fortunately, I had NORAD on my side, as they had a Santa-Tracker up and running, and I was able to shout out things like "He's already in Brazil! You better get to sleep soon!" and send the kids into a blind panic.

Life's little joys, right? *snicker*

My daughter made it until three in the morning, and then climbed into bed with me last night whispering "I just CAN'T sleep, Mommy!" I looked over at the clock and groaned. OK, I said, come sleep with me. I snuggled her down, and this was enough to get her to go back to sleep for a few hours. She must not have slept much, though, because at 7:00 a.m. precisely I was woken by a "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssss!!!!" as she scrambled over the covers and bolted to her brother's room to climb the ladder to his bed and whisper "pssssssssssssst! Wake up! It's CHRISTMAS!!!!"

I heard the sleepy reply "....r-r....really?" a pause. And then a mad scrambling as he realized what his sister had actually said. I lay in bed and watched the sad attempt at them trying to go quietly downstairs to get into their stockings. I poked hubby in the ribs to wake him, and told him to listen. We ended up in a silent giggle-fit as we heard the kids make their way through their stockings.

It takes a lot of brotherly love from a little six year old boy to exclaim with appropriate enthusiasm over his sister's various lip-glosses and nail polishes, and a reciprocal amount from her towards his hot-wheels and Lego's. They're just so darn cute. I then heard them turn their attention to the tree and the "Santa-gifts".

Now, everyone knows that Santa supposedly brings coal to bad children instead of a toy, but since coal is no longer needed by households - a while ago one of us said that Santa must now bring underwear instead. After all, he has to move with the times, right? Well, I heard the kids find a gift from Santa to hubby and exclaim "hey... *giggle* it's from Santa to Daddy... Hey, you think it's underwear???" and they both dissolved into breathless giggles.

Being upstairs, with hubby, and hearing this - I actually upset my stomach laughing so hard. Hubby tried to steal the covers and push me out of bed because of it.

So we got up, and had a wonderful morning with everyone on a sugar-high. My father camped out on one end of the couch like Gollum from Lord of The Rings with his bag of jelly-beans and wouldn't let anyone near him. Mom got three boxes of chocolate covered cherry cordials, and complained loudly that it probably wouldn't be enough - even though she is the only one in the house who likes them. Clearly, their anti-sugar stint has been called off (OK, many days before now, but they seem to be on a sugar bender now.)

The house looks like a wrapping paper grenade was set off in multiple rooms. We're finally into the one part of the holiday I truly despise... trying to figure out what to do with all the boxes left behind.

So much packaging, what could these marketing people be thinking? Every toy, no matter how small, was strapped into it's box with 160 metal twisties, and plastic restraints that getting any one of them free felt like escaping from Alcatraz! By the time I had set every imprisoned toy free I had the insane desire to pile up the shredded remains of the wrapping paper and jump into it like a pile of leaves, while singing Tip-toe Through the Tulips. Of course, that might have been the sugar crash. I got Reese's mini-cups in my stocking, and haven't been quite right ever since.

And they're ALL MINE!

Sorry....

Anyway, I have high hopes that we'll be able to see the carpet again in the living room soon. Probably by February. OH, and in other good news, my in laws gave me a sweater this year. It wasn't the wrong size, or damaged or used as they have been in years past. It was an actual sweater, with tags on it, from a real store, with all of it's buttons. This makes it a banner year, though I'm a bit nervous.... where's the catch? Maybe it's flammable?

I'm preferring to look at it as a nice step without bloodshed, and that's a very nice Christmas gift too.

I hope everyone had a lovely holiday, or just a lovely Monday if you don't celebrate it! Oh, and guess what? SIX inches of snow is due to fall tomorrow. A day late for a white Christmas, but I'll take it!

Christmas Eve Greetings

Please excuse the fact that I have a cold, and the fact that I don't like being on camera. ;) But as I was digging around for my webcam so I could chat with Bee, I thought I'd give a shout out there. Hmmm... maybe I'll just stick with typing.

Christmas Eve

Is it wrong to contemplate mowing your lawn on Christmas Eve? Yes, I still live in Vermont. However, I think the chances are becoming higher and higher that we'll be a tropical paradise in the next five years due to global warming. Book your time shares now!

I love Christmas Eve. When I was a kid, it was the most torturous day on the calendar. When I believed in Santa, I was giddy all day long. I'm quite sure I drove my mother insane bouncing off the walls and asking what time it was. Though, it was probably the only day of the year my brother and I were WILLING to go to bed early.

When I officially "stopped" believing in Santa (for the record, deep down, I still do believe in him) I recall all of the kids on the street getting together and sitting in a room, none of us speaking. Can you imagine that? About 12 kids all between the ages of 7-12 and NONE of them talking at all? We were all consumed with the coming holiday.

My mother loved Christmas Eve too, because it was "children hunting time". She knew we would try to sneak down in the middle of the night, and so she would STAY UP. Our rooms were at the back of the hallway, and my parents room was the last door before you got to the stairs leading down. My brother and I figured out, after several years of failures, that we needed to be more like Christmas Navy Seals than children if we were going to make it down the stairs and breach our stockings.

So, we made sure to sneak two mini-flashlights, hats (to cover our blond heads) and sweatpants into our beds one Christmas Eve night. I set my little alarm to go off at 2 a.m., but I needn't have bothered, because I didn't sleep at all! I turned off the alarm before it was to have gone off, pulled on my sweat pants, jammed my hair into my hat, and stuck the flashlight between my teeth because that is what they always did in the movies. My brother was already at his door, ready to go.

We tiptoed down the hallway, stopping two feet from my parents door. We held our breaths and listened intently. Snoring, no doubt about it. I waved my brother down behind me, and together we laid on our bellies and started to slither inch by inch past my parents door. It was a painstakingly long process. We went so incredibly s-l-o-w, we knew we weren't making a sound. It must have taken us 15 minutes (though it felt like HOURS) to slither past their door.

Once we were past it, we silently rose to our feet and gave each other a big smile in the darkness. That was when we heard it....

"You didn't think that was actually going to work, did you?"

CURSES!

Apparently, while my dad drifted off the sleep (those thunderous snores we heard) my mother propped herself up on her pillows and laid in wait for us. She watched the WHOLE stealthy ordeal, without saying a word until we had passed. *sigh*

Now I'm the mother. However, I don't think my kids are half the troublemakers that my brother and I were. Not once, have either of them tried to sneak into the presents early (unlike my husband), or go down early on Christmas. Granted, these kids wake at 6 a.m. ANYWAY - whereas I used to sleep until 10 a.m. or noon even as an eight year old if given half a chance, which made getting up on Christmas at 7 a.m. an aberration.

Today, we plan on baking cookies for Santa, and playing games with our house guests (umm... more than just psychological.) I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday, or just Saturday if you don't celebrate it! (and everyone in the west/mid-west needs to give me back my snow!!!)

Marathon Wrapping and Dodging Religion

Last night my husband and I tackled the wrapping o' da' gifts. It was a long and arduous process. Not because we have massive Christmas gift exchanges (because we don't), but because everything we bought was the wrong shape to be wrapped!

What ever happened to nice, normal SQUARE boxes? Everything is oval, and bubbles out, and had a weird top. Wrapping anything now has become a dexterity challenge. You can't scrape by with just using your two measly hands! Wrapping now requires the use of feet and various objects you grab to hold ends down while you reach for the tape that the dog just ran off with, and engage in a vicious tug-o-war with the cat over the ribbon.

Oh, and when did Christmas bows STOP sticking to the wrapping paper?

They seem to stick to the dog just fine. Odd.

We had put in the Harry Potter movies (it seemed oddly appropriate) while we were wrapping, and my cat was transfixed by the screen long enough for me to steal the ribbon back several times. All this time, my cat hasn't cared about television, but he'll watch Harry Potter movies. That's not normal cat behavior, right?

We finished around midnight last night, including cleaning up the carnage left behind. Random scraps of paper and ribbon were strewn everywhere. We managed to remove the discarded tape covered piece of wrapping paper that somehow became attached to the smaller dog's tail. We finally found the scissors under my big dog, who was taking a nap on top of them. By the time we hit our pillows we were exhausted.

It feels so good to finish wrapping. We really ought to do this stuff sooner. The kids were delighted to see more presents under the tree this morning, and have tried to "re-arrange" them four times. My husband noticed I had set out his gifts as well, and tried to offer to help the kids with their present-reorganization. For a man who hated Christmas when we first met, he is the biggest trouble-maker when it comes to gifts now. He tries to sneak into them all the time, he's awful!

Still, even with the snow missing and the rain falling instead, the excitement is starting to fill the house. I like that. And if it weren't for the Jehovah witnesses showing up this morning at the crack of dawn, I'd be in a perfectly good mood. I think they have singled out my house for some reason. No matter how many times I tell them we are not interested, they keep coming back.

I let my husband deal with them this time, and they had a man as their "front-man" today, which is a first. I heard (from around the corner, because I was still in my candy cane pajamas that I am NOT answering the door in, not even if you paid me) the guy start into his spiel about how at this time of the year sinners like us (non-Jehovah witnesses) need to be redirected from our misguided seasonality to find true religion.

My husband cut him off and said we weren't interested, but thanks.... and the guy actually took a step closer and said "What? Is it just religion in general that bothers you?"

My husband, without missing a beat, replied "No, just specific ones."

The guy was speechless, and hubby was able to say "Have a nice day," and shut the door. They still shoved pamphlets beneath the door.

I believe that everyone is entitled to their religious opinion. But do NOT come to my door trying to push that opinion on me. I feel that is wrong, and I always have. I look at all that manpower being spent going door to door trying to push their religion down other people's throats and wonder if their time trying to "do good" couldn't be spent visiting shut-ins, delivering food baskets, helping non-driving elderly get to their doctors appointments. I mean, they're going all over the place ANYWAY, and they clearly have the time... Sorry, it's just a pet peeve of mine to have people, uninvited, show up on my door step, call me a sinner, and shove pamphlets in my face.

I once tried to explain my stance on religion to one of these groups; I believe in all religions. I took an in depth course in college on world religions, and you know what? Minus the details they're all the SAME. A higher power. Do unto others. Kindness. Even karma in one form or another comes up in every religion. It's the smaller details that people get tripped up on. Which holidays to celebrate, which name to call your higher power, etc. It's amazing that all these world's religions are actually in agreement with each other, but they'd rather kill each other over the details. In fact, all religions have so much in common, that they even have their demented mascot psychotic radicals who go insane, declare themselves "leaders" and have followers willing to drink arsenic kool-aide or blow themselves up.

Telling other people they're going to go to hell just because they don't believe in the exact same minute details as you isn't reasonable. I think religion is man's interpretation of what is beyond his understanding - which is a higher power (God, or whatever you name it, no matter the language.) So, I have faith, but I do not align myself with any particular religion.

This went down poorly with the Jehovah witnesses.

Shocker.

*sigh*

You know, considering they're not allowed to celebrate anything, maybe I should just turn on the music, put on a party hat and act like a rockin' party is taking place and invite them in! That ought to make them run screaming, right?

Close Proximity Makes The Heart Grow Annoyed

I think I may be able to blame it on the fact that I am sick, but my mother is driving me crazy.

I did finally give in, and saw my doctor this morning. They diagnosed me with bacterial bronchitis and handed over some maximum strength, glow in the dark, fluorescent pink antibiotics the size of Texas, along with a nice codeine cough suppressant chaser. Of course, while I am certain I'll become radioactive from the pills, I'm going to take them because I am a good little girl. However, I'm a bit wary of the cough suppressant because it has warnings about six miles long that accompanied it along with a stern warning on the bottle about it being a controlled substance.

"Controlled substance" has always sounded weird to me. It's like they expect it to break out in drag, heels, tiara, bad makeup, and start singing Rocky Horror Picture songs (I'm just a sweet transvestite....) in the middle of church services. I mean, it's in a bottle - it looks pretty darn controlled to me. Darn right repressed, really.

No, I haven't taken any yet, I'm like this all on my own. Considering one of the warnings says "make sure you will not be operating machinery or a vehicle within 12 hours of taking this medicine" I figured I'd wait until I had a designated driver/parent/human/dog & cat owner/disc jockey before I did.

However, just because I am sick, it doesn't mean my work here is done. Oh no, it does not! The house is an absolute nightmare. I realize some of that is my fault because I have been bogged down with finals. The kids have been a bit lax as well. My husband is guilty of soccer gear in every imaginable spot in the house (except where it's supposed to go) and not helping out either. But my mother....

She gets things and then just leaves them wherever she was when she lost interest. This might sound normal until you consider that sometimes she loses interest on the way to somewhere ELSE. So, she just drops stuff, or sets it in the middle of the room as she was walking through. No idea why.

She also assumes everything I say is directed at her. The kids just got home (early release) and I was sitting at the kitchen table with them at lunch and saying "so we're going to pick up and clean the house today..." And my mother, over in the pantry, starts in with the dramatics as if I had just demanded SHE clean the house. I didn't ask her to do anything at ALL, I wasn't even looking at her, much less speaking to her. No matter, though - she started with the eye-rolling, the big heaving sighs, the "you are going to make me carry this cross all the way up the mountain, a poor old woman like me?? *sniffle*" dramatics.

I finally just lost it. I snarled that I hadn't even been speaking to her, and I never asked her to do anything, so she could just stop with the dramatics right now. Of course, this made her switch tactics to the "Oh, but I want to help out! I don't want to be a buuuuurden. I'm doing the best that I can..." I didn't take the bait, I just said that be that as it may, I still wasn't talking to her, and for her to jump onto a conversation with the kids and act like I just asked her to haul bricks was really out of line.

So, she went to take a nap. (She sleeps about 18 hours a day.)

Yet again, I get the "my daughter is an ungrateful whelp" award. Yay me. I wish I felt bad for saying something, but I just don't. I'm tired. I'm sick. And I'm sick and tired. I am doing my best here. I'm trying not to complain to anyone (in person... my blog is my outlet), simply because my mother complains enough for every person in the state. Even *I* don't want to hear what is wrong with myself, because I have heard it all from her every moment she is awake. It's so bad, I was reluctant to tell the doctor what was wrong, because I have been holding back that much! (fortunately I had a good doctor who was clever enough to say "oh my, you have a fever and everything" and pay attention to me, even when I was reluctant to say anything.)

*sigh* Maybe I'll get along with my mother better once I take the controlled cough suppressant? Or just sleep through her whining.... either way, it's a win-win situation. My father arrives tomorrow evening. I'm looking forward to it, because I can set mom off on him.

My my, look what a horrible person being sick makes me. Maybe I should call the in-laws while I'm on a roll right now? ;)

Dodge The Bullet

Last night I was all ready. I had my business outfit all pressed and laid out. I had my alarm set. I even knew where my shoes were (a minor miracle.) That was when it happened... I heard the sounds of vomiting.

Nothing quite like that, is there.

It turns out that my mother has the flu. I did the good daughter thing and grabbed my son and hid from her all evening. I know, coal in my stocking. The thing is, I was already cursed beyond measure, and the LAST thing I needed was to get the flu.

I woke up Wednesday at 4 a.m. and couldn't move, I was in total agony. Somehow, I had managed to throw out my upper back, and right shoulder along with my neck. I did something similar to this a couple months back, but I knew HOW I did it. I can't figure out WHAT I did this time. I went to bed feeling just fine. I woke up twisted like a badly knitted sweater.

Worse than that (well, maybe not worse, but equally bad) is that I still have this darn cold! I'm coughing all night long, I feel awful. I know, I need to go to a doctor. I will. Eventually. Someday. Sure. *ahem* Hey, it's not like they'll do anything for me.

Between my back and the cold, I thought things couldn't get worse. But the second I heard my mother getting sick I bailed. After all, I had a double-header of finals scheduled for today. I had the big presentation, and then a two hour literature final. AND it was a guaranteed flunk if I missed either one.

Luckily, minus waking at 2 a.m. to a coughing fit and being up for an hour with it, I woke up able to get to school. I never thought I would feel thankful for having horrible back/neck pain, and a severe chest cold (I'm starting to wonder if it's something worse, it HAS been three weeks, that isn't normal right?) But considering the alternative, I'm good!

There was something odd on the way in this morning though. When I finally hit civilization again (about a mile from the school) I saw a lone dog look both ways, then walk across traffic to the veterinarian's. All by himself. No human around.

Do you think he just had an early morning appointment?

Maybe I'm just hallucinating. Good thing I am finally on winter break until January 16th!

The Rules Of Engagement

A lot of people are facing invading family members (or perhaps YOU are doing the invading) this weekend. I already have one person here, and another due to arrive on Saturday. This has brought up a lot of thoughts on why people do this every year.

My husband's family, as I have established rather well, is a pain in the butt. I don't feel comfortable with them here, and I don't feel comfortable going there. It's absolutely MORE than reciprocated on their part as well, so I don't feel bad saying that. With my own family, it's about a 50/50 shot that it will be either a fantastic time, or emotionally scaring for life.

Those are reasonable odds, I think... better than anything you will find in Vegas, anyway.

When discussing this with my husband and watching him go into what I call "auto-son" mode with his own family I actually asked him "Haven't you EVER had a good Christmas with your family? A good visit? A good holiday season?"

To that, he replied in all seriousness "Having an enjoyable time isn't what getting together at Christmas is about."

Ouch. It was like watching Tiny-Tim on downers, or something. Yet, even so, I tempted fate and asked him to elaborate. He explained that the holidays aren't about enjoying family, but surviving it.

Of course, this explains why for our first few years together he was a perfect Grinch around the holidays. I beat that out of him with some extra strength garland, a short red velvet miniskirt dress trimmed in white, and some seriously spiked eggnog. Now he really loves it - but ONLY when we don't invite ANYONE here. We never go anywhere for Christmas anyway (everyone comes TO Vermont for Christmas, they don't leave it... We can thank Bing Crosby for all the moronic tourists this time of year.)

Still, it seems like a depressing outlook on family - that the point of having them here is to survive them, and the holiday. Yet, some families deserve that attitude - like my inlaws. My son was born on Thanksgiving, and the inlaws descended for Christmas. My parents had been out before them and seriously stocked up our pantry as a Christmas gift to us. The inlaws arrived and literally ate everything in the house within two days, never pitched in for a thing, and demanded we go get more and be proper hosts. (Considering that I had only given birth about 4.5 weeks prior, and was nursing, I was unable to down a bottle, or six, of liquor, and thus have a crystal clear memory of this entire visit. Every. Agonizing. Moment.)

I have become a bit of a picky host now, whenever I have guests. My inlaws might have ruined me for life on that account. But on the other hand, don't you think there should be some sort of guidelines that visitors adhere to?

For example, when someone stays here I expect them to be respectful. If they stay for more than a few days, I expect them to chip in something for food. If we go out to eat at the agreement of all, I expect them to pay their share of the bill unless we're treating for something like a birthday, etc. I expect them to pick up their darn towels off the floor. I expect the room to not be a pig-sty that they are staying in, a little mess is expected - empty upside down food bowls on my carpet is NOT.

I expect them NOT to reorganize my kitchen or other rooms to make things "more accessible and to have better flow" because they feel like it (I spent an hour trying to find my spatula and omelet pan this morning. I would have given up, but it was the principle of the matter.) I also expect them to keep nasty criticisms to themselves, for example, if you don't like what I made for dinner for my family you are more than welcome to make up something else - but don't sneer at it, complain, and then eat it anyway with an offended aire. I expect to NOT pay THEIR way into every museum that they asked me to take them to.

OK, I have a lot of demands and expectations. I get that. I'm sheltered.

As a guest, we always bring a gift for the host, and always offer to do the things I listed above. I always make my bed and keep everything neat, and ask before I get into anything. I would never dream of imposing on anyone more than simply staying with them and would like to help out in any way that I could.

So, as a person about to host family, or about to be hosted, what do you think?

As a host, what do you expect of your guests?

As a guest, what do you expect of your host?

What do you think about the holidays, is it about enjoying not often seen family together at this time of year.... or surviving it, seeing the genetics and manners you don't want to pass on to a new generation, and realizing that you too carry the genetic code for mankind's destruction?

Superstition

Well, I got one of my last three finals out of the way this morning. It was my Statistics final... so there is no telling how I did on it. My feeling is that I shouldn't say how I think I did.... If I say I did well, I'll do horribly, I just know it...

I'm becoming highly superstitious. So are the other students. There was one kid who is wearing the SAME pair of socks all week, because they're his lucky socks. He's NOT washing them. Thank goodness today is only Tuesday, and it's my only class with him in it. (I thought only demented sports players did that sort of thing?) Another girl showed up, and covertly placed a fluorescent pink rabbits foot next to her paper. A different guy got in a fight over a specific place to sit, because it was HIS spot and it was the only one he could think in.

I'm telling you, people are losing their minds right now, and it isn't pretty.... So, what do you think the odds are of getting an A if I dance naked under the full moon, and wear a strand of lucky pennies until April?

Dragons And Tinsel

I had my hot date yesterday which consisted of a movie (Eragon), a lot of shopping, and dinner. I get about two of these a year, so it was very nice to get out. It was also nice to replace my Friday holiday shopping experience with a reasonably good one.

We hit the movie first, which I thought was good. I have read the books, and from an adult perspective.... it was simplified a LOT. But, I am pretty sure that they were aiming for the 10-15 year olds, and they did a good job for that target audience. I was scared at first with all the children in the theater, that this would be another viewing experience like Harry Potter where people would just NOT SHUT UP! But, I ended up amazed instead. Not ONE person said a thing through the entire movie! I don't think that has EVER happened, especially in a room full of children. That is how well it held their attention. All in all, it was decent. And now, I want a dragon for Christmas. I wonder if they come in purple?

We then finished up our holiday shopping for the kids. We did the unthinkable... we went into Wal-mart. Of course, in order to do so this close to Christmas, you must survive the parking lot gauntlet. We managed to get a spot within about two miles of the entrance, but as the person pulled out of the space we were to take, her shopping cart she had left next to her car (the return was only two spaces down - apparently she just couldn't be bothered...) went flying off through the parking lot. The woman saw it, and LAUGHED!!!! Then she gunned her engine in her rusted out ancient car and sped off, leaving other customers in the parking lot to chase after the cart as it smashed into various vehicles.

That was really the big complaint I had. Either I chose to be oblivious to the other idiocies around me, or I looked at them differently. I had two really hilarious moments while we were shopping. One of them was in the Wal-mart, as a woman in one of the aisles half way back in the store got a call on her cellphone. She answered and said "Oh no, I'm in line right now - it's mad... I have no idea how long I'll be..." Then she got off the phone, and continued her shopping.

Both my husband and I were cracking up, until he turned to me and said "Wait.... you don't do that to me, do you?"

*ahem*

The second was in a department store. There was this section with small stands full of spa treatments, perfume, and other girly type things. In this section stood ONLY men. Big, burly, just off the construction crew, beer drinking, wouldn't be caught dead there unless under threat of death - type men. I should add that they all looked totally lost. They were obviously there together, it was a group hunting expedition. One guy held up a spa treatment system and said to the other "Well, what do you think? Do you like the smell of the cucumber and mint, or the orange and violets?"

The other guy, instead of answering the question, held out his hand and said "Does my hand feel softer to you?" Clearly he had been trying the sample bottles of lotion. I think I may have cracked a rib trying not to laugh. Eventually, I ducked down behind a rack of dresses so I could regain my breath, as well as my composure.

I was in a department store, because I have to give a business presentation on Thursday in business attire. The unfortunate realization hit me that, while I have plenty of business DINNER attire, I haven't WORKED in the corporate world in almost 10 years. I don't HAVE business attire. Even if I did, back then, I weighed close to 230 lbs! My husband kept suggesting I try pairing different things in my wardrobe, but he finally realized that I am out of options. So, I finally ended up finding a great outfit.

It's silly, but I can't tell you how much more relaxed I am about the presentation now. I know I look sharp, AND feel comfortable in the outfit - which will make the presentation go a lot more smoothly! Of course, Murphy's Law struck me again last night. We made it home, and I pulled out the top to show my mother only to find the darn ink-anti-theft device STILL ATTACHED!!! *sigh* My husband is going to try to make a run up to town the night before my presentation and get it removed, but I am NOT happy. An hour drive to the store.... *sigh*

We finished up the evening by deciding to take our chances and dine at The Olive Garden. We were a little nervous after the news story about 250 people becoming ill from the Olive Garden in Indiana - but I figured that any new virus or bacteria might kill off the ones causing me to stay up all night coughing, and was therefore worth the risk. It was fantastic. Evil. Totally Evil.... But yummy!

A small business note: I am proud to report that my feeble mind figured out why the comments were screwy. And while it was not my fault, they now work again for everyone. Though, I was very thankful Dave threw me a line (would that be classified as a pity-comment?) It was getting lonely feeling like I was just talking to myself. Granted, I do that a lot.

It's a Wonderful What?

I glanced at the television listings and saw that they're showing It's a Wonderful Life.... I thought that was against the law. Aren't they required to keep it under wraps until Christmas day, where they then play it 600 times, on 20 different channels in a row, until the tape catches fire and they can roast marshmallows at the television station?

Yesterday we had the cookie party. It was.... interesting. Some parents felt that since it was about cookies, they'd just drop off their kids for a couple hours, and not stay themselves. This was NOT what we had in mind, nor did we imply this was a kids-only-party. Fortunately, about three of the sets of parents realized this, and stayed. Still, we had about nine kids dropped off, with a "we'll pick them up at four'o'clock!" as they breezed off. I'm still trying to decide if they were just that stupid to think that a "your family is invited to a cookie exchange party" means only the kids, or if they took advantage of a free baby sitting opportunity on one of the last shopping-Saturdays before Christmas.

All told, over the two hour period, we had about 18 kids here, and various adults in and out. Everyone seemed to have a good time, but I got a lot of flack for having multiple Christmas trees in my house. (I LIKE them, OK???) Ahhh, what can you do. By the way, did you know that feeding that many kids a huge plate of cookies is akin to suicide? Did you ever see the movie Flubber, where the stuff goes bouncing insanely in various directions? That was my house.

My husband, Mr. Savy, was actually the one in charge of the cookies for our contribution. He was nervous. The kids were nervous. I was nervous. The dogs were highly doubtful. The cat didn't care.

But they were a big success! I thought I'd share the recipe with you - because they're seriously evil. If you like chocolate (and I'm not a big M&M fan) these things are amazing:

Chocolate Crackletops

2 C. All purpose Flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 C. Granulated Sugar
1/2 C. (1 stick) butter or margarine
4 squares (1 ounce each) unsweetened baking chocolate, chopped
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 tsp Vanilla Extract
1 3/4 C. "M&M's" Chocolate mini-baking bits
A small additional granulated sugar

Directions:
Combine flour and baking powder; set aside. In 2-quart (1.9L) saucepan over medium heat combine 2 cups (480mL) sugar, butter and chocolate, stirring until butter and chocolate are melted; remove from the heat. Gradually stir in the eggs and vanilla. Stir in flour mixture until well blended. Chill mixture for 1 hour. Stir in "M&M's"® Chocolate Mini Baking Bits. Chill mixture an additional hour.

Preheat oven to 350°F (180°C). Line cookie sheets with foil. With sugar dusted hands, roll dough into 1-inch (25mm) balls; roll into additional granulated sugar. Place 2 inches (50mm) apart onto prepared cookie sheets. Bake 10 to 12 minutes. DO NOT OVERBAKE. Cool completely on wire racks. Store in tightly covered container.

MAKES ABOUT 5 DOZEN COOKIES.
(~M&M Cookbook)

We survived the cookie-party, and all is well. Well, not all.... I'm not. I still have the cold I have been battling for 2+ weeks, and now I think there is a reasonably good chance that I have strep - if for no other reason than I have a hot date today, AND my three giant finals this coming week. Murphy hates me with a passion. Well, regardless, I am going out today, dagnabbit! Plague or not! I WILL have a good time!

Last night, we also let the kids watch Home Alone for the first time ever. I remember being just fine with it as a kid and laughing like crazy, (I thought it came out when I was younger, but I just looked it up and it says 1990? That can't be right, can it?) My kids were taken aback by it at first. We had to hit pause and field a lot of questions about the "burglars" and why they were mean, and what was going on with them. And then, when the boy was left behind, my son was distraught! I was very surprised, and then wanted to go and beat my head against the mommy-sucks-yet-again wall.

I just hadn't seen this movie since, really... well since it came out. All I really remembered were the humorous parts. I guess I should have freshened my memory a bit before deciding to show it to them. At least my son relaxed once he saw the main character sled down his front stairs and out the door. In the end, they liked it, but had a serious conversation about whether WE would ever forget them. Why the burglars did what they did, why they got hurt, etc.

On one hand, I am glad my kids don't just know these things. So many of the young kids in my son's kindergarten class have toy guns, spend lots of time "blowing the bad guys away" on video-games, and watch R movies (I'm not exaggerating here. My daughter's best friend's little brother who is the same age as my son does this very thing, and has a big group of peers who do as well. I had one parent argue that their five year old SHOULD be watching the Lord Of The Rings movies, because the books were classics, and it was enriching their child - exposing them to proper classical culture. Never mind the severed limbs, blood and gore! *banging head on floor*)

Well, in short, it was a really different experience coming at that movie from a parent's perspective, verses just being a kid.

The Santa Threat

I went shopping, as planned, with my mother yesterday. We went last year, and had a wonderful time. But, I can't say the same for yesterday. I think I have figured something out, though.




Late in the Season = Nightmare Shopping Experience.

Usually, I get my Christmas shopping done early. When the kids were young it was before Halloween. Now that they're harder to buy for, it's normally just before Thanksgiving. But with school, I am literally down to the wire this year. Yesterday, I finally finished up my daughter's shopping - but I still have a few things to get for my husband and son. At least they're small things, like stocking stuffers. (My husband, however, has gotten me nothing so far. Is that a Y-gene thing? Make sure you put it off to the last minute, because it's a lot more exciting to have to wrestle another man for a sweater. It makes the value go up, doesn't it - if a man has to fight for his prey... I mean, gift?)

I was amazed to see the parking lots completely packed in the middle of a week day - I suppose I shouldn't have been considering we really only have ONE shopping area for a three hour radius. Worse yet, were all the people cutting each other off in traffic, and not obeying traffic signals or stop signs (I guess they were thinking they'd get to that coveted parking-spot faster if they risked their lives by running a stop sign.)

But, worse than all of that were the shoppers. These people are absolute monsters out there right now. Yelling at store clerks, demanding others get out of their way, snatching items out of the hands of one another. I could really see how each and every one of these people resented the fact that they had to do shopping at all. For them, Christmas = Excuse to waste money to prop up the retail industry, and ruin their lives. Seriously, I suppose it's no wonder so many people outright resent the holidays, if this is all they see and feel.

The most horrible part of the day, however, was when we stopped by K-Mart. I was in one aisle when I heard a woman screeching at her child. I glanced over, and I could see her standing about 15 feet away from her daughter who could only have been about six years old who was looking at toys on the shelf.

Shocker, isn't it? A kid, looking at toys? Who'd have thought it?

Anyway, the woman wanted her daughter to come back to her. I get that. But she was really yelling, not just loudly... but. If you have seen any overly dramatic horror flicks, you can recall the tone of voice when someone yells at another person with absolute hatred - like they would like nothing better than to rip that person apart, and they're threatening at that moment to do so? It's a HORRIBLE tone of voice, but that woman had it as she yelled at her daughter to come to her. She started saying things like "Trust me, right now you really want to come here!" (OK, if someone was yelling at me like they were going to start ripping my skin off piece by piece, I wouldn't go either....)

Anyway, this mom (monster) eventually marched over and grabbed her daughter by her arm, holding her so fiercely that the girl's toes barely touched the floor. She took her into the next aisle, and I then heard the sounds of her getting smacked, and subsequent sobbing from the little girl. I went into that aisle (because, like hell am I going to stand there and let a little girl get beaten up) in time to witness her screaming into her daughter's face "You'll be lucky if Santa brings you one damn present this year! Most likely Santa will bring you nothing!. You don't deserve anything! Santa wouldn't bring a gift to someone LIKE YOU!"

Now, lets stop for a moment here. Who has had the Santa threat used against them? Not like this, per sey, but more like "Be good, or Santa will bring a naughty child like you a lump of coal in your stocking instead of a toy..." I remember thinking "COAL??? That is the WORST ever!!! Oh, what a punishment!!! Coal! Oh, the horror!" Of course, I was about seven, and worshipped at the Barbie and Cabbage Patch Kids alter (neither of which I ever got, by the way - Christmases were very small in our house.) Now, as an adult, I totally understand the coal thing. Back when that story was started, coal would have benefited the family and provided heat for them. Not such a BAD gift from Santa after all, is it? Of course, now... it's not so hot. Unless it's coal that has been compressed over thousands of years, then cut and set into a solid gold setting which....

Sorry... where was I?

Well, anyway, I stood watch (to make sure there was no more hitting - the girl was rubbing her side, and crying, so I can only assume that's where the blows landed that I heard, but didn't witness - so I couldn't prove anything) and saw the mother then go on with her shopping. But you know what she was doing? Her CHRISTMAS SHOPPING - for the kids!!! She had the little girl (who was a bit too big) in the seat on the cart, and kept yelling at her not to look into the cart, while the mother talked to her son (probably 10 years old) and pointed out gifts for the little girl.

What little kid could POSSIBLY handle that? Knowing they were buying gifts for you and placing them right behind you in the cart? It's no wonder she was constantly being yelled at. If she even glanced to the left or right, the mother would screech for her to hold still and behave. Merry Damn Christmas, kid. Jeez.

These public abuse displays always leave me uncertain with what I should do. About five years ago, I remember witnessing a man pushing a 10 month old in a shopping cart at the grocery store, and him slapping the child - HARD - repeatedly in the face to "get it to stop crying". Fortunately, other people saw it too and acted by getting the manager.... not sure how that ended, but I remember feeling relieved that someone acted. That one was so very blatant. But what about the ones that are on the line, so to speak? What do you do? When is it their "right to discipline" and when is it abuse? And when do you step in and report it?

I have found that my presence, directly staring at them, tends to stop a person from hitting their child. But the dilemma still remains. When do you take action? It's such a weird position to be in, and dodgy too because the lines are so fuzzy out here. Plus you don't want to cause additional harm (they play it off, and then go beat the living daylights out of the kid later in retribution....) etc.

Plus, I am extra sensitive to this because I would never EVER lay a hand on a child in anger. I know a lot of parents spank. I know they're very strong in their opinion to do so, and that is their right. However, I was spanked as a child (as was my husband, but he was beaten with wooden spoons, or anything else his mother could grab), and we made the decision to never do that to our child. The easiest reason was that while being spanked, I remember never hating anyone as much in my entire life - even to this day - as I did my parent when they hit me. I didn't want my children to feel that way towards me.

But because spanking IS acceptable according to society standards... where is the line. Where do you intervene? I couldn't in this situation yesterday, because I didn't witness it - I heard it, and then saw the little girl rubbing her side and crying. The baby-dad one was blatant and easy to see that it required intervention... but others? I don't know. What do you all do when you see something like that? Have you ever intervened or reported anyone?

Well, anyway - as I couldn't do anything, we moved on. My mother complained the entire day, and basically it was a totally miserable experience. We didn't even get to see the movie we had planned on because she decided she didn't want to. As I was taking my mother back to my car, I realized that I really am a Care-Taker child now. This is what life is supposed to be like when *I* am 50-60 years old, and my parents are pushing 80. Not now. Not when my mother is only 52. I spent over 10 minutes in the middle of ToysRUs yesterday explaining to my mother that $100 dollars is less than $180. No, I'm not kidding. Her multiple sclerosis is really affecting her mentally right now - math is gone, she whines and complains a lot like a child, etc. It's depressing.

So that, added onto the traffic, morons, and insane mothers shopping made yesterday absolutely...well, dammit - it SUCKED. And did I mention it was raining enough to flood out several roadways? *sigh*

Well, on the upside, today is the big cookie party day. I don't know if I'll be able to take photos (these people might wonder why I would want to...) but that should be fun! Plus tomorrow Hubby and I are going out for a date and to finish up the small shopping we have to do. By ourselves. And we're going to see the new movie Eragon. Hubby is practically beside himself with anticipation for that movie. I think it will be a good day, and hopefully will erase yesterday's so I can think fondly on holiday shopping again... because right now, I have the strong desire to hide under my bed until Valentines Day.

Exempted!

I have good news to report: I managed to get exempted from the final exam by that power-tripping professor, after all.

Apparently, she had been threatening other students with not exempting them as well, though not for the same odd reasons she had for me that day. The hostility was palpable when she walked in yesterday afternoon. It's quite likely she capitulated in order to avoid bloodshed. I had already decided I was going to the mat on this one, unlike before where I was waffling. I think being strung out for finals finally pushed me over the edge, and I was ready for the excuse to throw down. I wasn't the only one.

A lot of students had hit the edge by yesterday. It's entertaining to watch when you aren't one of them... which would not be the case, unfortunately. I'm wondering if there is much caffeinated-anything left on campus. Almost everyone had a slight twitch to them yesterday, and like me, 60% at least were down with a cold or flu.

There is one class that everyone is talking about (Strategic Management), which is a "capstone" (culminating) class for the business department. In other words, this is what I have to look forward to next fall. Apparently, the students who have been working in groups all semester, must make a full 60 minute+ presentation (in full business attire, maybe it's the suits and ties that are scaring the students) to a huge group of people who have nothing to do with your class. The audience contains other students, the teachers, local business leaders, etc, and is video taped. Well, apparently one of the presenters passed out in the middle of a presentation, and another student ran out sobbing.

Doesn't that just make you want to sign up right now?

So as it stands now, I have four classes completed with my grades finalized (all A's) and three to go. I wish I was done all the way. Stringing this out practically until Christmas (my last final is December 21st) is just killing me. I've been dreaming over and over I have taken my finals and failed. This is, of course, my favorite part of being in school.

Back when I got my art degree, during my last semester I took 21 credit hours. This is WORSE than it sounds, because art classes are like labs - three days a week, for three hours a piece PER day. All told, I was literally IN a classroom almost 50 hours a week that semester, and that didn't count outside homework or anything. By the end of that one, I was jumping at small noises, trying to eat plastic, and having long conversations with light switches. The worst part were the dreams. I had a recurring nightmare for over six years that I had forgotten all semester to go to ONE class because I didn't realize I had signed up, but I needed it for my degree to graduate right then, and I went in to beg the teacher to find a way to pass me somehow, and my professor was none other than Judge Judy herself. She was NOT impressed with me.

Woke up screaming for many years from that one. Ugh. Hope this doesn't start a new trend for me.

On the upside, I'm going out shopping today with my mother for all the Christmas stuff I hadn't gotten to. We're also going to go see the movie The Holiday. Should be a nice, almost relaxing day! I have been informed my comments on my blog is whacked out. I have no idea what to do to fix it. When I tested it, it worked... Hopefully they'll get it fixed soon!

12 Days Of Christmas (debt)

This is too neat, I just had to share. It's a complete breakdown of the 12-days of Christmas : http://www.pncchristmaspriceindex.com/

If anyone is aiming for a big gift, the presentation where they add up the true value of the purists of the song who insist it's ALL the gifts per day listed, coming in around $300,000.00 makes anything else you ask for (minus a cruise liner) sound affordable!

For people like me who can't think of a single thing they really want for Christmas, it's just fun to laugh over. Honestly, I can't come up with much. Except perhaps a nice vacation somewhere tropical... But there you go, I would never ask for that where anyone could actually HEAR me. I miss the days when I was a kid and had a long list of things like bubble gum, barbie dolls, and roller skates. That was fun, back then. When you knew it was a list for Santa you were never afraid to ask. Learning about money, and being a grown up has made me feel bad about asking for ANYTHING at all.

I think as a grown up, we turn our Santa lists into "Lottery Lists"... everything we would do with 300 million dollars. That's where the magic went. I guess I should start playing lotto, eh?

Procrastination

I am so good at procrastinating. Really, I ought to be up for an award or something. A little golden statue of a guy avoiding responsibility is what I need, so I could put it right on my mantel with pride! There could even be an awards show and ceremony... if anyone would actually get around to putting it together.

We're down to the last week of classes (finals are the week after) and I am bogged down with a cold, and a total lack of motivation to do much of anything. In an alternatively sadistic turn of events, I did go for a 2+ mile run today. No, I have no idea why except that I have been going crazy this past week not working out. I didn't have the energy, but the little exercise addict in my head was not happy with me. Unfortunately, it appears that shutting him up lead to quieting the only voice that was pushing me to do anything about all the work I have piled up. Who knew? (And the run didn't do much to help out my cold either.)

My mother has arrived safely, and she is all unpacked... and into the sugar already. Apparently, being in my house would lead to "being left out of the festivities" because of all the baking I am doing, thus causing strife for her if she didn't have sugar (see how it's all my fault?), and so she worked out a "one Cookie a day allowance" with my father, which translated to three donuts and a full-chai-tea something or other from dunkin donuts this morning.

I drove everyone the 45 minutes to the nearest dunkin donuts, but brought my own cup of hazelnut tea and sipped on that while the family was knocking back sugar coated rings of trans fat. Yuck. I know, I am probably the only person on the planet who doesn't like donuts, but well... there you have it. My family never gets them (guess who does the shopping? HA!) so when my parents come out, it's tradition that every Sunday they go to a dunkin'donuts. My husband is worse than the kids, and really looks forward to this little routine. I will say that this new dunkin donuts was nice, as it had a huge stone fireplace and comfortable chairs to sit in. I don't remember donut places having those... interesting. Made the morning more enjoyable for me to sit by a crackling fire with my home-brought tea, instead of idly eyeing the croissants.

Afterwards, we went to a Super-Walmart. (ugh) Where apparently every moron in the world had decided to go as well. Now, tell me something - why would ANY guy, ANYWHERE, try to pick up/hit on a woman wearing a wedding ring, holding the hand of a six-year-old, and clearly suffering from a severe cold - IN A WALMART?!?!? You have GOT to be kidding me. It was one of those things where I had to ask myself if maybe the cold medicine caused me to hallucinate. Unfortunately, my son confirms the scenario - it actually did happen.

Checking out is always an adventure too. We got behind a woman who was arguing over the TYPE OF BUTTER with the cashier. Why is it we always end up in these lines? We pick what looks to be a normal check-out lane, and we are always behind the lunatic. Before anyone says anything about how Walmart is the last place you go if you can - realize that out here it is the ONLY place we can go. No Targets are in our state at ALL. We have a K-mart, but it's the size of a convenience store (seriously). And all the stores are about an hour drive away, in any direction. So for us, this is it.

By the time I made it past the butter-lady, to the car and home, I had a migraine and felt awful, so I went to bed. That's the total productivity of my Sunday, how's that procrastination? I have a giant pile of homework, and I'm writing my blog entry... I'm tellin' you, I am a total pro at this!