That’s all part of the experience, honey.

We actually aren’t experiencing the crunch like we usually do, running insanely around trying to complete last minute shopping, wrapping, cleaning, and cooking.  I’ve got to work a half day this fine Christmas Eve, while CB will be starting the preparations for dinner and finishing up a little gift wrapping.  There’s one stop to make on my way home to grab a couple Mick Wright cards, but after that, I’m done.  Done done done.  Other than cooking, but I enjoy that.

This is the second year that we’re hosting Christmas Eve dinner at our house.  We’ll get Christmas morning with just us and the dogs, and then head to my Mom & Dad’s for dinner.  Then it’s three straight days of blissful nothing.  Oh, and CB getting to hear the baby’s heartbeat on Friday.  Other than that, nothing but asses on the couch and Bondathon on the tv.

I’m very thankful this Christmas that we are both still employed, that my brother is here on leave, and that we all have our health.  We’re thinking about CB’s best friend, who is in his third week in Afghanistan, and another good friend who is close to finishing out his year there.  My brother will be heading over to Iraq next month.  We’ll not take him being here over Christmas for granted.

I hope all of you have a wonderful Christmas, that you can spend it with loved ones and and fondly think of the ones not with us this year.  I was going to make this all snarky, but now I’m feeling a little weepy.  Christmas puts a hurtin on hormones.

So Merry Christmas, y’all.  Hope yours is perfect.

Oh, look at the time, sweetie. I should be in the office!

Allow me to introduce you to a few of the people I see every morning.

There’s the douchebag who has to merge over three lanes of traffic the very moment 40 and 24 merge into one by Metro News and NovaCopy.  Never mind that there are people coming up in the lane from the east side of the loop that are just trying to move forward, and never mind that there’s a least a mile ahead of you where you will be able to merge effortlessly as traffic disperses.  He has to come in RIGHT. NOW.

Then there’s the jackhole that comes off of 440, slips across four lanes and firmly plants himself in the fast lane where he proceeds to drive at a constant speed of 64 mph, completely oblivious to the ten vehicles lined up behind him and the wide open expanse of emptiness in front him and in every lane to his right.

Often, that same jackhole is the one that stays in the far left lane until we get to exit 74, where he slams on his brakes in order to get all the way to the right and somehow finagle himself in front of me on the off ramp.

The Off Ramp in Brentwood is a different world.  On any given day, I see women putting on makeup in their rearview, people reading the paper behind the wheel, eating breakfast, and generally being clueless, all with their foot on the accelerator.  The Off Ramp Idiots the worst offenders, because they clearly think that the green light at the top of the ramp will stay green forever and ever, and therefore they shouldn’t have to worry about actually moving forward when the cars in front of them drive onto OHB and therefore delaying my ETA by three minutes every time they miss the light.

I can’t even comment on the people I encounter during the afternoon commute.  I’m not without blame either, only I’m on the other end of the spectrum.  These drivers piss me off, and I get aggressive.  I can’t believe that some of these morons have drivers licenses.  I honk when people cut me off without a turn signal, cuss and scream and pound my steering wheel when they’re driving ten under the speed limit and pacing the person in the lane next to them so nobody can get around, and I get home a blithering mess because I can’t let go of the madness of just trying to drive twenty miles without somebody being an asshole.

I am taking the week after Christmas off, and will absolutely refuse to drive anywhere during the hours of 8-9:30 AM and 4:30-6 PM.  I don’t need a break from work near as much as I need a break from rush hour.  My sanity and these drivers’ lives may depend on it.

You eat the food, drink the water, lick a local, you get the parasite.

Lady bloggers in East Nashville beware.  There is something in the water over here.  First Rachel, then Christy, then Laura, and now me. I don’t know what they’ve fortified our Cumberland Punch with, but this is serious.

I’ve got a parasite.  The big kind.  The kind that, once extracted, you still have to feed and clothe.  If you’ve got the stomach for it, you can see what it looks like here. That was a month ago.  It’s multiplied in size by about a million percent by now.  Freaky.

Just wanted to warn my friends and neighbors – be careful when you eat and drink locally.  It could change your life.

PS to Stef – you were totally right

I’m sorry I missed the mission

Mission: Butt Pictures incomplete.  They did the anal gland expression back in the weighing room instead of in the exam room with me.

I know you’re disappointed.  I am.

Ah, screw this. I don’t even know why…

It’s been a shitty week.  After climbing a mountain of shit Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, yesterday both CB and I reached the apex of Shit Peak.  Hopefully today we’ll be going down the other side and by tomorrow we’ll be in the Valley of Butterflies and Rainbows and Unicorns.

My weekend will start by taking my dog to get his checkup and his anal glands expressed.  Yummers.  And hopefully the doc will give me some valium for the other dog.  I think us having to move her favorite bed to make room for the Christmas tree might send her over the edge.  CB was running on the elliptical the other day and the excitement of all that made her puke.  Conditioning isn’t working.  Medication might be our only hope.  Poor little freak dog.

Nothing’s coming to mind for feel good friday.  When I close my eyes and listen for my mental radio, all I hear is a sucking sound, like matter being inhaled by a black hole.

I’m taking my ball of sunshine self to work now.  Maybe, if you’re real good, I’ll post pictures of our butt adventures at the vet tomorrow.  Only if you ask real nice.  Remember the magic word.

everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see.

I’ve been sitting here stressing about all sorts of things, and suddenly I realized that everything will be all right.

My life isn’t only my job or my house or my bank account. And I’m safe with CB and our families and our friends and that the crap I’m worrying about really isn’t all that important.

Not sure why I was worrying so much in the first place. It all seems pretty simple now.

fgf: The world’s going to change tonight, doctor, I’m glad you’ll be able to watch it. And… happy Halloween.

Ahh, Halloween.

Unfortunately, I got about three hours of sleep, so I won’t be up very long tonight to enjoy it.  Tired or not, Donald is still cute.  I think I remember this from being a kid.

Happy Halloween!

ETA Thinking about the Disney holiday stuff made me remember this too:

We watched the crap out of that special back in the 80s.  That and Mr. Boogedy.  Is Mr. Boogedy on youtube?

AH!  It IS!

Oh, I hope that’s on DVD.  It’s so going on my Christmas list.

Tonight, I’m gonna go up to the roof, I’m gonna have a few beers, I’m gonna wait for the slutty pumpkin.

My pumpkin didn’t turn out slutty, but I think it’s ok in spite of it.

The inspiration:

The finished product:

Feel Good Friday: Freedom of choice, to choose between one thing or another, between one action or another, between good and evil, is the cornerstone of our civilisation.

There’s some bad things in my bubble today.  It’s gloomy and raining and I’m going to the wake for a very special man tonight.  But the world is ok.  The rain brings life.  To have life, you have to have death.  That doesn’t make anyone any less sad, but it makes me feel ok about the universe.

And I voted this morning.  First time I’ve voted and felt empowered by it.

Here’s what’s running through my head this morning:

How you could have chosen to live with an evil, vicious, pot-bellied, ugly little dwarf is beyond me!

That title has nothing much to do with what I’m thinking about today except that I did a quote search for ‘husband’ and that came up.  I’ve been thinking a lot about Ab Fab since Sunday, when my friend and I were going through a baby name book another pregnant friend had brought over and while reading off ridiculous names she came across “Saffron” and I said “I like Saffron.  I’m actually mad about it.” And we laughed like big stupid idiots and now I want to watch Patsy Stone and drink Mello Yello.

I just wanted to say that I married the perfect guy for me.  Last night, after the kids went home and I was exhausted (we carved pumpkins – this was the first year the 4 year old carved his “by himself”), he put me on the couch and covered me up with blankets and let me stick my cold feet under his legs to warm them.  Some commercial came on about a reality show where newlyweds couldn’t get along and I said, “I’m so glad we’re past that” and he gave me a weird look like I meant us being newlyweds was a bad thing, so I explained that what I meant was that I’m glad we’re past that whole getting used to each other/figuring out whose toothbrush goes where phase.  And he agreed and I said that all these people get sick of each other after getting married but that I actually like him a bit more every day.  He smiled and said same for him.  See, we’re friggin adorable.