Giftmas Ideas

I officially started my christmas shopping last week. That’s about 20 days earlier than normal, folks. (World’s most dedicated procrastinator right here.)

My dad is taken care of, which is a huge relief. He is usually impossible to buy for. I’ve started on Bradley, but I am trying to stay away from toys since he has more than any kid should ever have, and hardly plays with any of them. His room resembles the fall-out from a nuclear holocaust in Toys R Us. I’m leaning more toward books, dvds and board games for him. (He’s obsessed with Sorry and Uno… I’m thinking maybe Monopoly Jr?) I think I’m also going to start a tradition of getting him an ornament every year.

But now I’m stumped on everyone else. I’m really awful at the gift giving thing – on one hand I always want to give really meaningful gifts, but on the other hand I have absolutely no idea what that could be. The intention is always much greater than the actual gift.

Added to that, I’m pretty poor and have a huge list of people to buy for. So I’m trying to be creative – which is code for Cheap on the DL.

I’m thinking of doing a Shutterfly Calendar for my mom and grandma. They’re always bugging me for pictures, so I figure this should kill two birds with one stone.

What are your cheap but creative christmas gift ideas?

this is embarrassing.

Dear internets -

On Friday my coworker insisted I take the first book in the Twilight series home. Despite my prevarications and insistence that I did not think it was the kind of book I would enjoy, that I had heard it was poorly written and childish – and oh ho, how above all this pop culture nonsense i was – she insisted. And I gave in, scoffing all the way home.

Internets, I am addicted.

I started reading at about 6:00, and finished at 9:30. At which time I got in my car and drove like a mad woman to Target to buy the second book. I finished it at 1:30 in the morning. I seriously considered buying the third book the next day, but decided it would be more practical to just borrow my coworker’s copy on Monday.

There is nothing GOOD about the story. The writing is amateur, the plot is average at best – but somehow it’s still so damn compelling that I reread the first and second books on Sunday to tide myself over until I could borrow the third.

And now I’m going to have to see the movie. I’d had no interest before – why would I want to see a movie based on a book written by a talentless hack with a bunch of goth teenyboppers squeeling through the entire thing- especially when the movie starred some pretentious brit and a very pretty girl who’s features are permanently frozen in bitch face mode – but now i have to. I just have to.

And oh how lowering this is.

Abashed,
Tonya

P.S. Am I Team Black or Team Cullen? I just don’t know!

remember to breathe.

I am feeling very overwhelmed. I’m still pretty panicked about my grandmother, and now some things have hit the fan at work. I feel like I am treading water, just waiting for the wave big enough to take me under.  So in light of that happy, happy perspective I thought I’d try to cheer myself up by thinking of the good things that have happened lately, and the things i am looking forward to in the near future.

* thanksgiving.  all the family togetherness (and FOOD) of Christmas, but without the hectic ohmygodwhydoihavesomucheffingfamily shopping. i always have that one moment during the cooking and baking where i look around and am so peaceful and quietly content that my heart feels as though it will burst from my chest.

* reconnecting with an old friend.

* planning my (first ever adult) birthday party. it will be a joint shindig with two other friends, and i am very excited about it.   

* a busy, but awesome trip to new england. not only did i get to visit two new states - both of which beautiful – and meet a dear friend for the first time, but i made 3 new friends in the process.

* a line dancing party next month. a great excuse to buy the hat and boots i have been eyeing.

* planning a dinner party. thinking of the cocktails and appetizers i can try my hand at.

*  rereading my childhood favorites.

* a burgeoning crush. just a teeny tiny little butterfly fluttering in my stomach and a secret smile i can’t hide. i know it wil never go anywhere, but it’s so nice to feel this again.

 

knocking on heaven’s door

I have been meaning to write about a ton of things lately; halloween, my new england trip, life in general… but just… haven’t.

Two weeks ago, my grandmother was admitted to the hospital because she was having trouble breathing. And when I say admitted to the hospital, I mean my aunt had to call 911 in the middle of the night because my grandmother literally could not breathe, and she was taken away in an ambulence by 10 very attractive paramedics. (Or so I’m told.)

The original diagnosis was pneumonia, which she has had several times in the last few years. After a few more tests, they concluded that it was a combination of pneumonia and congestive heart failure. She was in the hospital for just under a week.

While there, they began giving her percocet and methadone for her chronic back pain, because they were on her prescription list. However, my grandmother had not been taking either medication because she was not comfortable being incompacitated while home alone all day. And I don’t know if it was the medications themselves, or the high doses that they gave her… but it spun her the fuck out. She began hallucinating shit right out of A Beautiful Mind. The doctors were all plotting against her, and recording everything she said. My dad was in a car wreck and his faced was disfigured. We were all mad at her. It was very, very scary. Obviously, she will not be taking those again.

She is home now, and ostensibly better. But she is very, very weak. She has to use a walker now, and use an oxygen tank a few times a day. 

I’m jus having a hard time dealing with it all. I’m having a hard time understanding how my elderly, yet robust grandmother has suddenly become so frail. I’m having a hard time with the fact that my dad has told me to spend as much time with her as I can, because he doesn’t think she has very long left. I’m having a very fucking hard time understanding how life can possibly go on if it does not include the woman who had a huge part in raising me. The woman who took my brother and sister and I in and housed us for months when our world fell apart. Who was always my soft shoulder and the pillar of my family. The strongest and kindest woman I have ever known. 

I just don’t know how to deal with this. Does. Not. Fucking. Compute.  

just so we’re clear.

 

Dude… I know the “every voice counts” thing is pretty much the most cliched thing ever… but did you know the 2000 election came down to 537 votes?  I didn’t know that, and I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

I’m voting because I can’t stand to think the next four years will be anything like the last eight.

I’m voting because I want someone in the White House who respects women’s rights and doesn’t dismiss them with the flick of a couple fingers.

“Thank you, John McCain, for finally exposing the seedy underbelly of the “women’s health” scam… Let’s face it: women loooove abortions, and will do anything to get one – the later the better. “Hemorrhages” “sever uterine infections” “dying” blah blah blah blah… And while we’re at it, enough with the whining about “rape,” “incest,” and “incest-rape” – we’re on to you ladies. Those aren’t a golden ticket to the Abortion Factory, okay?  …People can disagree about abortion, but still agree about the unimportance of women’s health.” 

I’m voting because I think love of all kinds should be respected and embraced. There is too little love in the world for it not to be celebrated. And there is too much discrimination and prejudice in the world for it not to be summarily rejected.

I’m voting because I want to give people like this a good boot in the ass and welcome them to the 21st century:

Mostly, I’m voting because it is my right. A right that too many people don’t have for it to be taken for granted. I want my voice to be heard – I want it to be heard in the deafening roar of millions echoing my hope for the future.

Whatever your politics, get off your ass and vote tomorrow people. It’s your duty and your right as an American citizen to stand up and be counted. There’s nothing more patriotic than that.

Hey chicken, how’s it hangin? Say hi to your motha for me.

Hey Rooster. Hi. How’s it going? Yeah? That’s cool. So, I just want to apologize for the things I said this morning. You know, about how you’re the spawn of the devil and that I hope the coyotes find you and eat you for breakfast? Oh… you didn’t catch that? Hmm… my screams must have been muffled by my pillow. In any case… I’m sorry for my reaction to your appearance outside my window this morning. I guess I’m curious as to how and why you were there, because I don’t live anywhere near a farm or any farm-like habitat, and to my knowledge none of my neighbors are into having barnyard fowl as pets.

And I know how it’s your job to like, announce the new day and all… and believe me, I do NOT want to get in the way of your only real use (except for that nice perk of boning those fine looking hens, right? Am I right? That’s gotta be pretty sweet.) but here’s the thing: I like to sleep at that time of the morning. I really REALLY enjoy sleeping through the 3:30 to 5:30 hours of the morning, and your… crowing, is it? Well, it’s just not conducive to sleep.

So could we come to a compromise of some sort? Like… I won’t kill you and feed you to rabid dogs if you stay the fuck away from my window in the mornings. Deal? Awesome.

Thanks chicken. Say hi to your motha for me.

stranger danger

This story makes me sick to my stomach. I cannot imagine how terrified that little boy must be. I hope he has not been harmed. I hope he is found soon.

Before I read this story, Bradley and I had a long talk about strangers. I went to an orientation at his school yesterday for some volunteer work I signed up for, and one of the other moms told me how he sat down next to her before school one day and just started talking up a storm. At first I laughed because my god, my child is a TALKER. But then it struck me – that woman could have been anyone. The fact that she’s a perfectly nice housewife doesn’t change how dangerous it is for him to do something like that.

We’ve had the stranger talk before, but obviously it didnt sink in. I’m not sure it even sunk in tonight. It’s so hard to get through to kids this age that there are bad people in the world. That even people that may seem super nice can be bad, and you can never tell the difference. He said, “Oh mom, I know who the bad people are. They’re the robbers the policemen dress in stripes.” headdesk. Oh baby. If only the world was as black and white as your cartoons.

I’d like to think he’s smart enough not to actually go anywhere with a stranger, but how can I really know? I’m thinking of setting up some kind of password with him; if anyone he doesn’t know says his mom told him to go with them, they’ll have to say the password first so he knows they’re telling the truth.

I love his innocence. I hate that mine was stolen from me at such a young age, and that it’s caused me to be so cynical. And so paranoid; I am in an constant state of fear that something bad may happen to him. I want to preserve his naivete as long as I can, but I’m not sure how to do that and impress upon him the danger of talking to people he does not know.

I know he needs to experience the world firsthand, and that (the normal) bad things will inevitably happen to him and he will learn from them…. but sometimes I just want to wrap him in tissue paper and carry him around in my pocket.

mid-week slump

I swear work only has two speeds: crazy can’t catch my breath busy and sloooow as molasses in February. Lately it is the latter. There are always a few things here there that need to be taken care of, but I feel like I’ve surfed the internets more than I’ve worked this week. And I’m running out of sites to keep me entertained. What do you read that keeps you entertained?

And yes, I am aware that now that I have said this I will be walking into a firestorm tomorrow morning and won’t be able to catch my breath until sometime next July. But I prefer being busy to being bored.

In my leisure time at work, I bought some (cheap) new clothes. I like the ease and low pressure of shopping online, but this time I definitely should have gone and tried things on before buying. I have a hard body type to buy for; I have disproportionately GINORMOUS hips. Basically, I have the bottom half of an hour glass. (I dislike the term “pear-shaped” although it is apt.) I am relatively small up top, and have a pretty narrow waist which just serves to extenuate the *ahem* womanly flair of my hips even more. Also? I am very short. So. Clothing that fits all my many parts is difficult.

I bought this dress:

thinking it would be great to wear with a pair of tights and mary janes. However, I failed to notice in the description that it has side pockets at the waist. Waist usually = hips or lower on my body, and it turns out the position of these pockets is not at all flattering. *tear* It will have to be returned. I’d love to find a comparable replacement though… I was looking forward to the outfit.

 The good news is, I also got this wrap dress:

that is really flattering, if not as fun and clunky as the other one. I also got the fun flapper-esque ruffle dress I listed an an option in this post, and am looking forward to wearing it out sometime in the near future. And just for kicks, I got this fun new ring, and this cute little whale necklace.

I am also lusting after this really beautiful Michael Kors satchel. Alas, the budget does not have room for $400 purses.

Have you purchased anything lately that you’re loving, or are you lusting after anything just out of budget range?

Drink up, me hearty. (And I did.)

Oh Bradley boy. Friday was your sixth birthday. YOUR SIXTH. And well… your mother is having a bit of a hard time understanding how this could be possible. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago you were the squishy little baby who wouldn’t let me sleep, but made up for it by letting me gnaw on your chub?

Anyway, to mark this momentous occasion I put together a really cool party for you. Pirate themed. We were going to have a treasure hunt and everything. And then you know what? In the span of about 12 hours it went from 100 degrees to 60 with ugly dark clouds threatening to spew rain all over my awesome party plans. And mommy… well, I’m sure you know that your mom doesn’t really deal well when things out of her control screw with her plans. It makes her a little… well, we’ll be kind and use the word tense.

Anyway, we decided to just give the weather the finger and have your party at the park anyway. And everyone showed up and you had a really good time. One of your friends’ mom had to leave about 10 minutes into the party because her mom was in the hospital. I said it was fine for your friend to stay and I’d take him home after the party. Because no big deal , right? He was on the way anyway.

Turns out, this friend of yours is a monster. A 6 year old who towers over all you other kids by about a foot, and out-weighs you all by at least 30 pounds. But, he has the temperament of a three year old. He tackled and pushed the other kids, and then flung himself on the ground kicking and screaming when he got called out for it. And he whined. A lot. He was what I would call unpleasant.

I could have dealt with all of this. I would have just chalked it up to him being just another bratty kid in the legion of bratty kids on the planet. Except you know what he did? He crapped his pants. He literally hid behind a tree and SHIT IN HIS VERY OWN PANTS. A six year old. In his pants. Pants that had to sit in my car in order to be transported home. I won’t get into the derails of how this was dealt with. It does not need to be recorded for posterity. Suffice to say that there was much Purell used and your uncle is a goddamn saint.

Not to change the subject abruptly, but did you know that when you were born you were one-third my size? Yup. Twenty one inches to my sixty three. And now at 45 inches you are about 71% of my height. (You might want to check that, mommy’s not much of a math whiz.) And to tell you the truth, knowing that in about three weeks you’re going to be big enough to throw me over your shoulder when you don’t like what I have to say is a little unnerving.

Anyway, the round about point is… even though you are 71% my height, you are 100% my heart. And I’m really glad you don’t crap your pants anymore.

Love,
Mommy

don’t vote. no seriously… don’t.

I mean, if you’re ok with a woman who can’t name more than one supreme court case, or the names of the newspapers she reads on a regular basis, or who can’t string a coherent sentence together regarding the biggest economic crisis our nation has seen in nearly a hundred years being next in line for our presidency… then don’t.  Please… just don’t.

But if you care about any of the above – or health care, social security, national security, the war, education, welfare, global warming, the price of gas, or being able to pay your mortgage and stil buy food for your kids… then please, FOR THE LOVE OF BABY JESUS GET OFF YOUR ASS AND MAKE A GODDAMN CHOICE.

www.maps.google.com/vote