ok. so no Nog. But my husband's 94 Year-Old great aunt DID bring Budweiser. AH-MAY-ZING!
Christmas morning found me clutching my head and screwing my eyes as tightly shut as possible. No, I didn't over indulge the previous evening, but reindeer in the roof and a chubby old man couldn't have pounded louder than my throbbing head. For once, I fell asleep in bed, and was anticipating a wondrous night of fluffy mattress heaven, only to find myself in a worse predicament than a hangover PLUS the nefarious couch. fml
But seriously, I was disheartened to hear my intrepid son tearing into the Christmas gifts but lacking the fortitude to race to the revelry. "Honey, " I mumbled - "Please go stop the youngling before he tears into everything" Fortunately for me, I have the best husband ever, and he clamored out of bed to tend the wee-one as I scrubbed my eyes and looked for painful purchase on the floor.
After present-ing, I climbed back into bed for a little shuteye, and hopefully a respite from this pounding headache that was mocking my Christmas Jubilation right up its goat-ass.
The day got progressively better, and by nightfall, I was pretty amped to go see Avatar... (more on this later)
and now,
its the day after Christmas, also known as Boxing Day but better known as the Hubby's Birthday! (the poor poor man) to be followed by the Brother's Birthday, capping of a neverending stream of Birthdays and Holidays that torture me from Thanksgiving to Christmas.
And I wonder why I get migraines.
----------------
Listening to: Jack Johnson - Flake
via FoxyTunes
Bleary eyed, I woke this morning on the couch - *again* (damn you late night TV) - to dry contacts and flurries outside my window.
Ah, Christmas Eve.
now, I panic.
I mean, sure, hubby and I managed to get the important shopping in last night, traversing Target with little to no crazies to be seen. It was nice.
But its the little things that make the holiday - the little things that I have yet to master. Like staying on task with all of those "homemade" gifts. Or getting around to baking those freaking sugar cookies. I *did* manage to paint some pretty sweet gifts before I began drooling all over the micro-fiber, but Peppermint Bark don't make itself, boys and girls, and I'm running short on time.
To add insult to injury, I'll be at work all day. Now, this is not a bad thing, as we need the money desperately, but dammitall if I don't have a 1,000 other things to accomplish today - like wrapping, baking, last minute stocking stuffing, and all that happy horseshit.
I have the sneaking suspicion its going to be a loooong night...
and mummy will be buying a honkin' bottle of Cafe Patron on her way home.
----------------
Listening to: Sunny Day Real Estate - Seven
via FoxyTunes
What a strange, strange night. You ever fall asleep on the couch only to find yourself draped half on the floor, mumbling and sweating in the land of Nod - waking only to know for certain that your dreams were intense and epic , however you can't remember a goddamned thing. That was at 4:30 this morning, and this perverse feeling that I've missed something important is still lingering. Of course, my first order of business upon waking was to make a delicious ice cream sundae. It obviously makes everything better.
So I awake, for the second time today, to the Youngling at my bedside, chocoloate syrup bottle in hand, demanding chocolate milk. "Ok, ok" I mumble, collecting my thoughts and mourning the empty ice cream carton "Go get a diaper for mummy, and I'll make you chocolate milk."
"NOOOOO......" he wails, screwing his face into a grimace of such melodramatic proportions he'd give his dear ol' mama a run for her money.
*sigh*
Its been this way for awhile now. Perfect, dulcid darling and then WHAP, Damien. Ahh, my toddler is expressing his ego, his sense of self. I just wish he'd do it a little more complacently.
We've even tried the Santa card. "Santa sees everything... you want him to come on Christmas Eve and bring presents, right??"
Nada. His ire is erascible. Ahh, to be three years old again. Shit, to have Santa Claus coming at all...
SO! Christmas is in a scant two days you say? Pfft. Not a single gift wrapped, not a single cookie baked (yesterday's plan for sugar cookies never took off. There's always today...) and I don't feel a lick like its Christmas. I tried, I really did - to get into the holiday spirit, but I just feel like its cold, and one day less until spring.
Don't misunderstand - i'm no Scrooge (well, at least not this year) but I *always* have a hard time at the holidays. Yeah, I'm one of those. I go into fits of somber repast that may or may not last straight through until the new year. Trust me on this one, I've good reason.
But this year, I'm not Debbie Downer, I'm not cursing all that the Holidays stand for in my black shriveled heart... I can even stand some Christmas songs without tasting last nights' ice cream sundae. I just can't say I'm all that amped for the big day. I guess I should try in the next two days to work myself up to a cheery tinsled lather - but I'm far too enraptured with my current book (Chuck Palahniuk's "Haunted") and my iTunes on shuffle. I'm sure once the nog gets passed around, I'll be Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree - but in the meantime, well,
Meh.
----------------
Listening to: The Mars Volta - Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore
via FoxyTunes
I feel this pertains to a whole gamut of fun and icky problems in my life - the first of which is (again) how to spend this sunny, frigid day. The XBox remains un-modded, although I've read extensively on the subject and it could happen at any point in time. Thankyou internets, for providing me with the knowledge and illegal files to attempt such an endeavor. Thankfully, I am not apt to blow things to smithereens (at least not at this juncture) and am content to follow the "recipe" as it were to make my console a god. or at least to play NES/SNES/SEGA games on it. Not too much to ask, right? And for the purists out there, YES, I do own all of those systems (Gamer Nerd, much?) but lack the appropriate number of TV's and the patience to accommodate. so pfft.
Speaking of recipes and gamer nerds, I was uber pleased to see Olivia Munn gracing the cover of January's Maxim. It irks me to no end that the gamer world is mainly male dominated, with few exceptions. Honestly? Most of my good friends are gamers, my bestie being the foremost gamer, male or female, that I know, and they are hott. Maybe its our intelligence, maybe we're the product of a generation raised on Nintendo, and maybe a small part of it is our innate need to break the stereotype. I may not remember to mail the bills on time, but I know the Konami code by heart, and know where to get all of the magic flutes in SMB3. Selective intelligence perhaps. I'm still hoping Santa brings me COD:MW2, but I'm not sure that will be a positive influence on this blog...
Once I get this train a'rollin, my goal is to make sugar cookies with my darling three year old. Now this will probably entail a lot of redirection, a kitchen awash with flour and other ingredients, and a very messy Jacob. I expect reasonably good results... I think. We'll have to see how the cookie crumbles. Aren't I punny this morning?
I spent a good amount of time fiddling in Photoshop to create a more personal look to Anti-Stepford - what do y'all think? Still working out the kinks, but damn if it doesn't feel good to mess around with code again! Just another example of the vast knowledge cyberspace has to offer. A few weeks and several pots of coffee later, Cascading Style Sheets are conquered. Fatality! Anti-Stepford Wins! Flawless victory!
I digress.
The youngling is wandering with his pants half falling down. Suppose I should tend to that...
----------------
Listening to: Soul Coughing - Sleepless
via FoxyTunes
I find that I'm not very good at things.
No, let me rephrase. I certainly don't want my first post to be riddled with do-gooders looking to boost my self-esteem or help me find Jesus. No offense, but I'm a little smarter than that. If that is your intent, please move on to the next blog in the blogosphere.
See, I'm a 30 year old mother and wife, living in the suburbs of Boston, and struggling to find some rhythm and balance in the whole domesticity thing. I've been married for a scant four months, but my husband and I have been what you may call an item for the past 15 years. Yes, you math inclined geniuses, this means half my life. (More on this later)
As my darling husband can attest, I am a remarkably good cook when the spirit moves me, a loving mother (if not unconventional) and an attentive lover, when the planets align and exhaustion is at bay and coitus lies in our future.
The problem lies in my inablitity to stick with something. To devote all of my energy and attentions to whatever new shiny thing has crossed my path.
Every week brings a new interest and obsession. Music, movies, crafts, cooking, learning, astrophysics, dancing - these interests swell inside of me and bloat my already teeming brain with visions of happiness, stability, success and other such nonsense.
Over the past 10 years or so since I've been away from college and learning, I've been wandering, trying to find that niche where I belong, and self expression comes easier - less like ripping a band-aid from pink inflamed skin and more like breathing.
So, the one thing that I AM good at, if there is such a thing, is writing. My high school teachers and college professors and poor friends can vouch for me. The problem, again, lies in my fickle nature. I don't write consistantly, I hardly write at all anymore, and I feel like a rusted vessel, aged and aging and good for utilitarian tasks only.
I'm not the type of wife and mother that has dinner ready at 5pm sharp, the house tidy, the laundry clean and a smile on my face. As a matter of fact, at noon on this snowy day, my son and I are still in our PJ's, there isn't a lick of Christmas shopping done, and fuck-all if I know what's for dinner. On my plate for today, figuring out how to make some sort of Christmas Cookie, and teaching myself how to mod my XBox.
I'll get to the dishes eventually. Really.
----------------
Listening to:
A Perfect Circle - A Strangervia
FoxyTunes
