Don’t you love a good conversation with your family on the Holidays? My family sure does…
Brother (from a room on the other side of the house): “Come help me, I don’t know how to wrap.”
Brother: “Come help me.”
Mom: “She said no.”
On shopping last minute…
Brother: “What can I get for Dad?”
Me: “He likes to be outdoors. You should get him a tent so he can camp out in the back yard.”
Brother: “He would probably love that.”
Me: “Or, a pillow for when he sleeps on the floor. I was joking about the tent.”
Brother: “I am going to get him slippers. If he doesn’t like them I will take them.”
Me: “I don’t think that is how it is supposed to work.”
Brother: “Do you have any money?”
Merry Christmas everyone. May all of your conversations be this deep.
I am overwhelmed since the end of Becca on Fire, so this is an old post I wrote back in May that I re-edited for today. I wanted to revisit my blog’s history for a moment of deep reflection on how things have changed and how I have grown.
We both know that’s not true. I am really just too busy re-gifting last year’s snuggies and bad DVDs. So here, have this re-gifted blog specially selected by me for you. I will most likely not post again until the weekend. Instead, this week I will throw myself back into YOUR blogs that have been neglected in lieu of the beautiful chaos.
Is it just me, or is Tuesday the most uneventful day of the week? Check it out.
- Monday is the black sheep of the weekday family, but at least it is known for something. It’s famous for all the wrong reasons, but that’s the way to do it these days, right?
- Wednesday is kind of like the just-popular-enough step brother of Thursday. It also is often referred to by using the word hump, which is never a bad thing unless it is in the same sentence with the word surprise or butt. If you aren’t familiar with humping, just ask Daan.
- Thursday is just close enough to Friday to switch your thoughts from putting proximity mines in your favorite co-worker’s cubicle, to thoughts of drinking rum in your backyard in a hammock for two whole days. Isn’t that everyone’s idea of a weekend well spent?
- Friday = Parties, paychecks, and pandemonium. I don’t think elaboration is necessary.
- Saturday is Mecca. Saturday is that distant cousin of all other week days who ran off from the weekday family to live a Summer in Paris sipping Cafe au Lait by day and squandering Absinthe by night. It is the day to sleep in, do whatever you want, and then entertain the enchanting notions of the unpredictable course Saturday night could take you. OR you can play Hitman until your eyeballs look weird and everyone thinks you are either stoned or Steve Buscemi.
- Finally, there is Sunday Funday. Even the most chill day of the week gets an inviting name. Host of family barbecues, abundant naps, football, catching up on housework, and maybe even a little front porch swing action, Sunday is akin to Wednesday but with slightly better genes.
What happened to Tuesday? You never hear anyone say, “Dude, you will never believe what went down last Tuesday”. Okay, maybe you might, but for me Tuesdays remain the most mundane of all the days, and the only thing that’s “going down” is my spirits.
Maybe I will reinvent Tuesday. It’s time to take the monotony out of Tuesday. It will finally be envied by all the other weekdays. Here is what I am thinking:
Tool Tuesday: Wrap things in tulle while listening to Tool and sitting on a stool.
Why it won’t work: Tuesday will always suck, and I used all of my tulle to make an indoor hammock for Saturday.
I will be working on getting my shit together and writing a legitimate post with awards, tequila, fireworks, people doing ridiculous things in horse masks and maybe even some real jokes! You know, something worth seeing. Until then, please go visit Le Clown and help him get another deserving blogger Freshly Pressed. There, I pulled a Santa. I am done until 2013.
- Get Locked And Loaded This Sunday Funday [14 PHOTOS] (coedmagazine.com)
- Prince Harry Taps That Ass Tambourine For The Queen! (perezhilton.com)
- Humpday Inspiration: Part II (sleepeatgymrepeat.com)
[Look! I have a really cheesy cover, and I am cheap, but it's what's on the inside that counts, right? Click my obnoxious cover to buy me on Amazon. Yay!
[Also, the title says "for grown-up girls", but that shouldn't stop the fellas from checking it out. Would I steer you wrong? Well, not intentionally at least.]
I returned to reality and a Sunday of cooking stuffed bell peppers with a new addition to slide onto my make-shift bookshelf. In her normal fashion, Booger handed down a book to me as an early Birthday present. Its title is The Merit Badge Handbook for Grown-up Girls by Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas. Her name makes my jaw hurt a bit, and I didn’t even attempt saying it out loud. Filled with activities, projects, goal ideas, and new learning/experience opportunities, you could think of this book as a sort of generalized bucket list and guide. My initial appreciative reaction was quickly followed with eagerness to start flipping pages. Upon doing so, something unexpected happened.
The beginning of this year had me sulking in the realization of all the things I have yet to do in/with my life. I have a hard time being patient when on a quest. Nothing was helping, especially not seeing all the cool stuff other people around me were doing. Then, I began writing again and went from sulking to basking in the new-found determination I had to start doing things. New or different or scary or silly or constructive or whatever kind of things, it didn’t matter. No more ruts. Read the rest of this entry
[This is totally how I look handing over presents. I always keep a blue sky backdrop on my person to create a floating sensation and mystical aura. This way it doesn't matter if your gift is so disappointing that it makes a pair of socks look like diamond earrings.]
Father’s Day is coming up (Sunday, June 17th). You are welcome for the reminder. My goal is to send a gift that actually arrives at my parent’s doorstep on time. Somehow I always seem to butcher timing, only to play it off by cursing the long gooey trail left by snail mail. It never fails. At least I can proudly say that the gifts themselves now always outshine the belated-ness. I am what you would call a recovered bad gift-giver.
I haven’t spoken of my friend Booger in a while, but my road to revival is really all thanks to her. It was Christmas of 2010 when I hit rock bottom. I was graduating college a week or so before the actual holiday, and my whole family was in town to celebrate a little bit of both occasions, including Booger. After the ceremony, we all went back to my apartment to exchange some presents. I don’t remember who went first in the swap-fest, but what happened next lead to a much needed self intervention.
Booger has always been the most creative and thoughtful present giver ever. Ever. So when I began scouring the gift bag she brought for me, I knew I would find nothing but pure gift gold. Everything she has ever given me has been something that I would never find on my own, something I don’t know I need but do, and if it has multiple gift layers, they all correspond and compliment each other better than popcorn and M&Ms. If you have never consumed this combination, I feel sorry for you. Moving on…
First, I drew from the bag a coffee mug that displayed “Crazy Cat Lady” across the side. Funny. Then, a classic black pencil skirt to start my new wardrobe as a working business woman. Practical . Next, a lunch bag and an umbrella. Clever and Cute. There were also a few other equally as enviable items. If there were judges around, they would have given an impressed standing ovation for such perfect delivery. Then, there was my gift to her. Read the rest of this entry