Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Christmas Cards and Baseball Cards

* To the right is the picture I used for our Christmas card. It basically says, "Hey we travel to cool places. Happy Holidays!"

Merrryyy Christmas everyone!

Without a doubt, this is my favorite holiday. I mean, Thanksgiving is awesome, but a holiday mixed with food AND gifts - could there be anything better?

However, there is one aspect of Christmas I'm not a huge fan of: Christmas Cards. Why? Well, one, they don't make a lot of sense to me because, basically, all you are really doing is either saying, "Hey, here's a great picture of us at some beach, or location you wish you had the money and time to see, but you don't," OR "Hey, here's a bizarre way of telling you I had another kid and now I have five and you still have none."*

And then, if you send these cards to people you see all the time, (which I sort of did) it becomes more like trading baseball cards then actually wishing people Merry Christmas. I mean seriously, I get someone's "card" and I'm like, "Oh man, I had better send on my picture so we have made an even trade." Honestly, at the end of the holiday we should all get together and see what rookie cards we got and how much they are worth.

And then, there's the dreaded single spaced, 10 size font "Family Breakdown of the Year" insert. Come on, be honest, do you read these? I'll be honest, I do. Why do I take the time to read these? Because every once in a while you find a little nugget nestled in these reports. If you read close enough, you just might find out who's the in-law they can't stand, or the grandkid with the least chance of succeeding. Now these gems can be hidden, but if you look for key phrases like, "Bob, Sally's husband, has decided after fifteen years of working at X company, he's going to buy a boat and sell the fish he catches to people at the docks! Go get 'em Bob!" Translation: Bob's an idiot and Sally will be looking for us to support them in a year. Or, "Little Billy, our third grandson, enjoys video games, bugs, sleeping and candy. Don't try to pry that XBox from him!" Translation: Billy is a social weirdo and we worry one day he'll be either homeless or a data entry specialist.

Alright, I'm off to the post office to send out some additional cards. I hate when you get cards from people you didn't send anything to. I wish they would give you a heads up text they were going to do that so don't waste a card on your dentist.

*Did you sense the bitterness?

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Awkward situation #1412 at Work

Time: 10:30 am
Order: Hash Brown Benedict, Tuna Burger, Cheeseburger, 1 beer, 2 shots of tequila

I walk up to refill their water glasses and I hear the following:

"I mean, I did not touch that woman. This whole thing about a sexual assault is a gross allegation. I swear I'm going to murder that woman."

Did a waitress hear OJ Simpson say the same thing over tequila and poached eggs?

Monday, December 6, 2010

Dinosaurs, Cotton Candy and Talking Cats

For the past month my husband has been working a ridiculous work schedule. Consequently, he's been going to bed around 2 or 3 in the morning. Obviously, at those hours I'm in comatose state and basically dead to the world. Therefore, my husband has started playing a bizarre game with me when he comes home. The game consists of him crawling into bed, nestling up next to me and then whispering complete gibber. No, you read that right - complete gibber. For example, one night he told me, "Tomorrow we're going to grandma's house to eat dinosaurs and pie. But, not before we clean the driveway of sticks and stones."

Now, I should tell you that during this fun game I actually have no idea what he's saying. Instead, in my deep sleep state, all I hear is something about my grandma and dinosaurs. I then feel someone next to me, then they are gone and then I'm dreaming about a T-Rex making pie with my Grandma Frost.

Now, that's not where the game ends. In the morning, I get to call my husband and say, "What in the crap did you say last night?" He'll laugh and say what do you remember? To which, I usually reply, "Absolutely nothing," and then he'll say, "Do you remember anything about dinosaurs or cotton candy or talking cats?" Then, like my drunken friends in college, I try to separate what I dreamed about in a blacked out state from what he actually said. Doesn't this sound like fun?

I guess the only good part about this game is that I now know how my friends felt when key words like, "bar," "frat boy," and "fell down stairs" would trigger memories from the previous night.

Thanks (insert name of my husband's law firm)!

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Do You Like It?

A few weeks ago I decided to cut my hair rather short. When I went to work the next day several people said the following:

Strange customer: "Hey you got your hair cut."
Me: "Yep."
Strange customer: "Do you like it?"
Me: "Um, yeah. I asked for it."

"Do you like it?" Who says that? What did these idiots expect me to say? "Oh, I'm so glad someone finally asked. I actually asked for a short trim, and then she closed her eyes, and started to cut. I've been crying all morning. Don't I look awful?" Honestly, who asks that?

I swear, next time I see a newborn baby I'm going to say, "Oh, you had your baby." And the mom will say, "Yep, just had her two weeks ago." And then I'll say, "Do you like it?"

Or, next time someone gets surgery I'm going to say, "Hey you recovered from your surgery!" And my friend will say, "Yep. Isn't it great?" And I'll say, "Do you like it?"

Sorry, just a random rant.

For the record I like my new haircut...

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

I Couldn't Even Tell

Can we all just take a moment and collectively throw our hands up in the air and scream, "What in the hell?" - because that's what I'm doing right now. Why am I doing this? Well, today I went to work and while I was punching my number in, I noticed a tattered piece of paper attached to the wall. It said, "Please donate money for (insert co-worker's name) and her baby." Now, it's not that I'm incredibly cheap and don't like helping other people, it's just that, after working with this person for ten months, I never, ever, knew she was pregnant. Sure, I thought she looked like she had gained some weight, but I didn't think it was because she had a bun in the oven. (Which is, obviously, one of the worst things anyone could ever say - "Oh, you were pregnant...I couldn't even tell.")

I think my favorite part of the whole story was when she called in to ask for the day off because she had...given birth! I swear, there's now no topping that excuse. I thought getting out of work for my explosive ovaries was pretty cool, but now I'm always going to be trumped by the baby card. Man, things are just not going my way in this department.