That New Years

Memories.....like the corners of my mind.....

I'm here, in chilly Chicago, which surprisingly isn't that chilly...with the exception of yesterday morning when I thought I was going to turn into a solid block of ice when it was like 27 out and a massive gust of wind damn near took my breath away. Anyways... I still got my Chicago balls!! Woo hoo!!

Back to the story at hand. Hanging at Ms. M's house...having fun, playing with her son (who's stinkin' cute!), seeing some of the college friends. I'm having a good time. But it the real story going down memory land is THAT New Years that almost killed me. It was Dec. 30 2001....

Ms. M was engaged, I'm the MOH, and just flew in from AZ (I had just moved there in Aug), to do some bridesmaids dress shopping and what not with the bridal party. I was going to fly out on NYE in the early morning, so Ms. M and her future Mr. could have some fun for NYE and what not. So, by the 30th, we had picked a dress, ordered them, and it was the night before I was set to leave... We decided to have a girly moment of facials and tea.

A digression for just a moment.... In college I was holding spa nights in my room- facials, hand massages, tea, maybe some drinky-drinks, mellow music, and lots of laughing. In fact I had dubbed spa nights "Hand jobs and facial night" because I like to be funny like that. I would come to dinner and say "lady's and gents, get your washcloths and be at my room at whatever o'clock, it's hand job and facial night!" Oh the look of shock on the faces of the boys when I first said that... Priceless.

Back to the regularly scheduled program...

Facials and tea.... So I go up to Ms. M's room to set up shop, she's making the tea, however the tea she made was not a nice herbal variety but a rather large bottle of tequila and lots of little limes. This is going to be a fun night. Now the bottle of Jose, I thought was new, and just the neck of the bottle was consumed, but talking with Ms. M last night, she said it was only half full, that it was in the handle area of the bottle...either way...it was a lot of fucking tequila.... So "CHEERS " to Ms. M, the engagement, the upcoming nuptuals, the friendship, the sky, the air, anything we can think of....while the masks are on our faces drying and the shots were rapidly firing.

Fully under the Jose spell we decide it's time to take off the masks. It was a long hallway to the bathroom at Ms M's parents house, with their bedroom just on the other side of it. It was very late and we had to be very, very quiet so we wouldn't wake them. Yeah, right. M's on the right side of the hall, leading oh so quietly, while smacking into the left side of the hall, I'm trying not to laugh and thinking I'm walking totally fine. We get to the bathroom, and I'm trying to take the mask off of her face... I had one hand on the top of her head, trying to keep her head still armed with a hot washcloth in the other for removal. I almost gauged her eye out. I grumble something about her head not staying still, before I go in for the kill again... I decide that it would be best for M to remove her mask without my help- she might be able to focus better and keep both eyes in the process. So we stumble in the bathroom, removed the masks, and oh so quietly enter into the hall to go back to the bedroom....we need more tequila. We eventually run out of lime chasers and thought about going down to cut more, but had enough clarity to know that if we couldn't walk down the hall- there's no way we are going to make it down a set of stairs and use sharp instruments to cut up limes... So we just keep drinking the tequila with no chasers. And before we know it, the bottle is empty- whether it's Ms. M's recolection of a half bottle or mine being an almost full bottle- it's gone and it's a lot of fucking tequila. We are beyond annihilated...and I have to be up at 6am to make the flight. Ms. M excuses herself, I fall into bed...the next thing I know- an alarms going off, and M's hitting me so I could get up and in the shower.

I'm still drunk.

And I'm going to be sick.

I stumble down the hall to the bathroom and promptly expel all contents in my stomach. At least I got to the toilette. I remember being in the shower, leaning on the wall, because I couldn't stand up without feeling like I was going to fall, and I thought "I'm taking the fastest shower known to man, and I'm going to go back to bed when I'm done, because I don't need this much time to get ready".... as I'm having this thought- there's a bang on the door- Ms M is telling me we have 15 minutes before we have to leave.... OOPS.... I attempt to hurry up, puke before I have to brush my teeth. Get downstairs where Ms. M is making breakfast for us...french toast... I eat, hug my goodbye's and we head out to the airport.

Me: Ummmm..... M???? I think you need to pull over I'm going to be sick.
M: Okay- hold on...

M pulls over, I open the door lean out, and puke along the Stevenson, oh look- french toast!... This happens a couple of times.

The whole time in the car I'm burping lime and tequila.

I'm going to die.

I get to the airport. Hug M goodbye... and wait for 2 hours to board the plane. I want McD's- I NEED McD's. I need hash browns, lots and lots of hash browns, a large coke... I'm dying. There is no McD's at the airport. I settle for a bagel and PRAY this will settle the stomach a bit.

It doesn't- I puke.

I get on the plane. Still burping lime and tequila. I'm going to die. I fall asleep. I hear a ding. I'm thinking there is a God because I just slept the entire flight away and now I'm home where I can get McD's.

WRONG.

The fasten seat belt sign just turned off- I still have the whole two and half hours to go. It's the longest two and half hours of my life...filled with nausea, burping, and the taste of tequila and lime.

I feel bad for the people sitting next to me.

Finally I land in Phoenix. I call mom to tell her I'm here, and when she picks me up we are going to McD's- I need salvation of some sort.

She picks me up with Oma in the car with her. As I'm getting in the car she starts to ask if I had a good time- but she sees my face and asks what the hell I was doing last night... My only response "Tequila, too much tequila". She promptly tells me that I stink, and I recap the evening for her. Oma's not happy with me. Mom's rolling her eyes. I'm dying.

We get to McD's (FINALLY)- no more hash browns being served, so I get massive amount of fries, a burger and coke. Instantly with the first fry- I start to feel better. After the consumption of grease upon more grease- I stop burping lime and tequila. Mom says I'm looking better- but I still stink.

When I get home- I call Ms. M to tell her that I'm home and alive, barely... Then proceed to talk about all the fun we had, the gorgeous dresses we got, and the fun night of facials and tea.

It's an event we both laugh about still...7 years later....and it's an event that still haunts me. If I even so much as smell lime- I start to feel nauseous, let alone actual consumption. Put tequila anywhere near me and I'm dry heaving. I have PTSD. I have tried to consume various tequila bevs, and I might be able to get a sip down, but it's not going to happen.

So, Ms. M- happy 7 year anniversary of almost killing me with alcohol poisoning and killing the youthful love I had for tequila (it was my bev of choice in college).

And a rather large tip for all you kiddies out there that like to travel- DON'T FLY with a hangover- it's not pretty. And always get McD's- ASAP, you'll be happy you did.

Hope everyone's New Year's is a glorious cockful evening.

Peace out 2008.

Winter Wonderland....

I'm heading out in the morning for Chicago. I'll have a day after White Christmas.

I'm ready to blow this pop-stand and be in some cold. Sometimes I miss the smell and that snot freezing feeling of taking in a deep breath of cold air. Plus it's a good way for me to keep some thicker blood. I don't want to be one of the AZ wimps crying and bundling up when it's 50 out.

Tis the Season- and all that bullshit...

Merry, Merry and Ho, Ho, Ho (no skank- I'm not referring to you)...

I'm not a super Christmassy person- I think working at the mall in my youth sucked it out of me. All the music, the decorations, the crowds starting in November...UGH! I'm also not a crowd person- but that's a story for another time.

I thought I would share some positive memories from Christmas Past... two mainly...

We would celebrate Christmas Eve at Oma and Opa's...stoked that Santa hit us up twice- once at Oma's and then again at home. After dinner was done, the dishes cleared, the three of us doing what ever it was we did at the time (probably trying to kill each other or trying not to kill each other since Santa was coming)...we would hear what sounded like reindeer hooves on the roof of Oma's house. We'd gasp....SANTA'S HERE!!!! And the 3 of us with our Aunt would go run to the basement....we couldn't see Santa, naturally, because then we wouldn't get any gifts. But we could hear upstairs the front door open- feet stomping, some 'ho, ho,ho', some Santa chatter, the door would close again, and we could rush upstairs. The living room would be covered in presents, and the opening frenzy would begin. It was great.

The sibs and I have since asked how they did the "reindeer on the roof" business, because everyone always seemed to be in the living room- never noticed anyone was missing, to throw some rocks or something. But to this day- the adults will not tell us.

The other thing they told us when we were little was that the flashing red light we saw off in the distance was Rudolph's nose. It was just one of those antenna towers- that flashed year round- maybe we only noticed it at Christmas, I don't know.... But we believed it.

Memory #2... I was about 12, and felt like death with a cold/flu/invasion on the body snatcher disease thing. I was a happy camper that Christmas. Oma had the 'perfect solution' to help cure me of the disease... a shot of blackberry brandy.

Allow me to digress a bit- Blackberry Brandy- It's Oma's magical cure-all. Got a concussion- rub a cold knife blade on your bump and have a shot. Constipated- have a shot. Got the big D (from have too much black berry brandy)- have a shot. Stomach upset- have a shot. Headache- have a shot... You get the point. If you don't have blackberry brandy- regular brandy could work, followed by rum as a second option (but it's not as medicinal), and last option whiskey.

So I'm dying....and I get a shot of blackberry brandy after dinner. I go into the little room, and just lay on the floor (I was all hot flashy and cold sweating). I think I pass out because I'm being woken up from mom to open presents...I'm still all hot and feeling like crap...I unenthusiastically open my gifts- Oma gives me another shot (WOO HOO)...and I go back to the little room and sleep until it's time to go home. And in the morning when I awoke...I miraculously felt better. No more hot-flashing, cold sweating, feeling like shit....it was like the power of blackberry brandy compelled the beastly virus in me... HAIL THE POWER OF BLACKBERRY BRANDY!!!

And I just got an email from my Aunt- as I was inquiring about Holiday Oma and to see if I should try and get my hands on some ativan or something. She replied with "no- she took some blackberry brandy and she fine." Hail the power.

Rock out with your Christmas cock out.

I love my coworkers...

I was off on the 19th- using up some PTO and saw Twilight with Hitler (finally!! not like I haven't seen it 3 times already....). When I arrive at work today I noticed that they have decorated the little tree in our area. Upon closer inspection I see it's filled with little pictures of me and Edward... **Sigh** I have a fabulous team. They make fun of my OCED, and they tease, but if this is their way of teasing I'm fine with it.

When I got up from my desk they had also made 2 larger pictures of me and Edward superimposed together. But I don't' have those to share. Sorry.

It's hot.

The (non) Licker- a story for Skank

This is Skanky-Skank's favorite story. Her perception of the story usually aggravates me...but she thinks it's halirious regardless. So, my Skank-o-licious, this one's for you...

About 4 years ago for Skank and Donger's anniversary a group of us went out for celebration. We started at one club/bar that (unbeknownst to us) was 18 and over. The whole crowd was a little young, minus the chester's out to get fresh slutty meat. We promptly left after we got there. Next place on the list...Graham's Central Station. A fun little multi-themed bar/club (4 rooms/themes- Country, R&B, 80's (!!!!!!), and Karaoke) that serves cheap drinks and has a slight dub-t undertone, but you can go have fun and it's not a snobfest like a "Scottsdale" bar.

The group of us arrive- we kinda do a little walk around before settling into the 80's room. Not more than 2 seconds of walking in the room- I hear "Do you want to dance?" I look around assuming it's not me being asked- but I'm face to torso of this random guy... I stumble "no thank you- just got here with a group of friends" he doesn't budge...and Brown Sugar (mutual co-worker and friend of Skank and myself) says "Oh- go dance with him..." So I dance with guy... for a couple of songs. It was a very odd experience. One thing the guy (who was later dubbed Al Gore's younger brother) was doing, while pressing me firmly to him, was what I can only compare to steamrolling the side of my boob while we danced. Let me tell you that was almost a turn on. As the songs continued, he pushed my hair from the side of my neck, and rested his head, all hunched over) almost in the crook of my neck.

First, allow my to digress a smidge. I have neck sensory issues. Don't like things on, around, touching, hovering, being near, etc. etc. etc. my neck. This can range from something as light and simple as a necklace, to a shirt collar, to my hair getting long and just sitting in the crook. The only thing I can tolerate around my neck is when I'm holding a baby and hang their head there. Everything else, drives me CRAZY!!!!

Secondly, this is Skank's favorite part....

Back to the story...

So AGYB is starting to hover around my ear/neck area, steamrolling the boob... and I see out of the corner of my eye, Skank and Brown Sugar running around the perimeter of the dance floor. I'm perplexed as to what the hell they are doing, but I'm also just trying to ignore this guy by my neck. Then all of a sudden, he slides his head a little bit lower and starts this heavy breathing panting thing in my ear. I'm thinking to myself "WHAT THE FUCK???"... now my experience may be minimal- but heavy breathing and steamrolling really can't be any sort of mating call for any one, can it?? Seriously. It's like I'm in a fucking wind tunnel. Steamrolling, wind tunnel...wind tunnel, steamrolling... Yeah, not getting all hot and bothered over here. And this goes on, for what seems like for forever.

Skank and Brown Sugar eventually approach me and Wind tunneling-Steamrolling AGYB.... Brown Sugar asks if I want a drink- and I say PLEASE as I break away from this guy. As i turn around to accept the beverage- AGYB takes this as a sign for butt-to-crotch dance time. I didn't know that turning around was a sign for new dance move...I saw it as- "please leave me alone....my back it towards you for a reason".... After 2 more songs (and 5 beverages later from Brown Sugar)... AGYB eventually leaves the 3 of us- it also might have had something to do with the approach of Donger to the group too- I'm not sure.

Skank: OH MY GOD!!! He was all over you!!!
Brown Sugar: GIRL!!!
Skank: I can't believe you were letting him LICK you!!!
Me: Trust me, he was not licking. It was heavy breathing- I was in a fucking wind tunnel
Skank: You were being licked
Brown Sugar: I think you were being licked too. Look we took pictures!!

They whip out their phones- and sure enough, there's pictures of me and AGYB from various angles on the dance floor, and he's all up in my neck.

Donger: I told you two to not take pictures and save her. (thank you Donger, for thinking about me when you darling wife was being amused and not helping me out)
Me: I can't take believe you took pictures!!!
Skank: I can't believe you were being licked...
Me: I WAS NOT BEING LICKED!!!!

So the rest of the night we danced, Skank is telling the rest of our group about the licking incident that wasn't, and I drank...

Monday at work... Brown Sugar and I are closers, so we don't get in until 8- we are the last ones to get in... And I see all these eyes on me. Kat (one of the older ladies on the team) said my name loudly in this flabbergasted tone... I'm all "what??".... The rest of the girls/ladies are asking if I had a good weekend. I'm perplexed. I turn on my computer, and what's on my email... Pictures of me and AGYB wind tunneling me.

OH
MY
FUCKING
GOD!!!!!

SKANK!!!!!!!!!!!! She's just laughing. I can't believe she emailed the pics to the team!! HOLY SHIT!!! One of the girls on the team was my (whore) roommate for a couple of months, and we were still living together at the time of the incident.... And she said something along the lines of "that is totally disgusting I can't believe you let some guy lick you". Meanwhile the previous weekend I heard about her pulling a chain at another party when she drunk off her ass, which is okay- but the possibility of my being licked is "disgusting"...whatever. I was a little, um perturbed, lets say.... about the pictures, ready to beat the hell out of the (whore) roommate, Skank's insistence on the whole licking business.

Years later Skank's still telling the story to any new soul. Hell, when I met her sister 2 years ago, when she was in from England she asked if I was the one that got licked. She said something about at the new jobbie-job to one of the up-tight super Christian girls on the team. She tells anyone she can. Hitler found out about it last year. She couldn't believe I never said anything to her. There was nothing really to tell.

Skank is still persistent and instant that I was being licked.... I try to explain, and plead with her to understand that I was not being licked, but wind tunneled.

Good times.

A great way to start the day!

So I come waltzing into work today at 7am- ready to start another day of work when I'm accosted by the most glorious of visions.... My desk is covered in EDWARD.....

I had him on my computer on my cabinet, the wall behind me, TEAM EDWARD on the back of my chair...even on my mouse. I was beaming from ear to ear, giggling non-stop...even the eyes were watering a little bit.

On the daily Starbucks run- I told my coworker/Twilight convert/Team Edward fan that if I were to get hit by a car coming back to the building I'd die a happy woman!! She assured me that should would take the pictures and care for them.

I even called Tuschka to tell her about my desk...again more watering eyes, beaming, giggling. I emailed friends and sent pictures to them to show them how great my desk looked (minus the mess)

Needless to say I was highly distracted ALL DAY and could hardly get anything done!!! Thank you to my other coworker-team member/Twilight convert/Team Edward fan #2 (who shall be nicknamed later) for totally making my day.

Rock out in Edward LOVE!!!

Hide the Knives....

Sitting at work, enjoying a silent day. I have a very noisy neighbor who happens to be out of the office today. It’s lovely. When I’m able- which is most days- I turn on the MP3 player- to block out the random sounds coming from the neighboring co-work, but today, since it’s nice and quiet, I can have it on to actually listen to and not use it for sound barrier purposes.

Maybe it’s just my mood, or the fact that I’m actually listening to the songs, or the random shuffle- but the music is KILLING me today. It’s one sad sappy love song after another… Queen, Somebody to Love; Michael Buble, Home; Beatles, Something; Bread, If; Louie Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald, Dream a Little Dream of Me; BNL, Break Your Heart; Ben’s Brother, Bad Dream… Just to name a few- my random shuffle isn’t going for my fast passed high energy songs. It’s making for a rough day.

It doesn’t help that I had the most bizarre dream last night involving the Queen’s Somebody to Love…. In the dream I was home, crocheting (working on the baby blanket I had intended to finish back in September), have some music on, just enjoying the silence. Then the Queen song come on- Freddy sounding so sad and pleading, and I get this sinking feeling in my stomach….and I realize that I’m going to be alone indefinitely. No one will love me- like the Hollywood type love- all consuming, sweep me off my feet. I’m not going to be fawning over any one or totally smitten. I’m gong to be decrepitly old- and totally alone. I had a massive moment of despair. Then there was some slight self resentment- because I realized that I had no one to blame but myself. I forced myself to wake up before I tried to commit suicide in my dream.

This dream really shook me. I’ve always said “I’m perfectly content with my life, and I like being alone.” Which is very true- I have no added stressors, I can do what I want, I feel like I have a good balance on things. I have a low tolerance for bullshit- and threaten physical harm often to those that really aggravate me. And really- I’m happy with my life and how it’s progressing. I’ve never been the type to need anyone- never pined over not having a boyfriend at any one time- and always been (what I think) extremely independent and self reliant. So the dream has me questioning if my little “independent, self reliant, no boyfriend needing” mantra is really covering up something, that deep down in places you don’t like to talk about at parties (name that movie) that I don’t want to admit to myself. Normally I don’t hold much weight or merit in the bothersome dreams, but this one’s going to be with me for a while.

Thank God- something peppy’s playing… Thank You Mickey Avalon for your Jane Fonda.

A Disgruntled Reader

Thursday's "chat with Oma on the drive home day"... I get caught up on everything in that 30 minute phone conversation. There's the news, things read in the "real paper" and "the other paper" (usually Star or In Touch), the weather, games shows (don't get her started on Deal or No Deal...that games show makes the woman see RED when people are greedy), and of course her books she's reading.

Apparently the latest read made her very mad. She told me on the phone that she wants to write a letter to the author and tell her she's "a dirty pig" and she writes "dirty and foul"... we have a little German tirade (something along the lines of the "the author should geht zum Tuefel" or go to Hell- with her dirty, foul, writing.). Evidently this author used "four letter words, you know the ones, I hear you use them- in every sentence. FOUR letter words, EVERY sentence. And all the sex... never in my life have I read so much sex. Is that all people do? Lay in the bed with each other and have sex? This is why the world is an awful place. Nobody cares about God or religion- they just want sex. Times were so much better when I was younger."

Now, when Oma was younger- there was WWII going on and she was a prisoner in a work camp. I'd rather live now- with FOUR letter words and books about sex than live in a war torn country and be a prisoner in a work camp in Russia. But that's just me.

Maybe I should geht zum Tuefel too....

Bitch

Friday night, in lieu of seeing Twilight with Hitler (as she promised) we went over to her BFF's house for some beverage consumption as her hubby was out of town and the kid was in bed. It was a fun evening...almost as fun as seeing Edward for 2 hours...almost.

Hello, Edward.....

Sorry about that- I couldn't help myself.

Anyways...

Over at the BFF's we consumed some wine had some yummy desserts and Rotel dip. Hitler and I stopped at the store to get a bottle and I found the perfect bottle that must have made with Hitler in mind....

I had to get based on principle alone. And let me tell you it was quite tasty.

As the night progressed we reminisced about growing up (Hitler's BFF grew up around the corner from us in IL and now lives a mile away from Hitler in AZ) and other fun times that involved alcohol- primarily Hitler drunk.

Memory #1- The BFF's Wedding. Hitler was the MOH, and became highly inebriated at the reception. She claims it was the champagne in the limo that cursed her- not the many glasses of wine that she consumed prior, during, and after dinner. When it came time to give the lovely speeches, Hitler was literally at a loss for words. All she could muster was that she has known the BFF for a long time (since the 6th grade) and that "I love you guys"...to which the tears started to flow, she hugs BFF and the hubby, and just repeats over and over that she loves them. It was very eloquent. She also managed to break 3 wine glasses through the course of dinner. The head waiter was getting very agitated by the drunkenness. I just remember looking at Ava at the dinner while Hitler was acting a drunken fool and said "just think- you get to take that back to the hotel...lucky you".

Later on in the evening we watched BFF's wedding video to watch the speech, a dancing drunk Hitler, and the personal message that Hitler had for the happy couple at the end of the video. She's outside with Ava, cigarette in hand, pink bra strap falling off the shoulder, holding the mic saying that she loves BFF and Hubby so much- then throws Ava under the bus with "And Ava has something he wants to say to you too..." Ava looks shocked and rambles on about congrats and what not, while Hitler is looking very stoic into the camera. When she feels Ava has said enough she talks more about the love she has and tries not to cry.

It was special.

Memory #2- My Annual Summer BBQ. In college every summer I hosted a BBQ- a mingling of college friends and home friends... The BBQ that occurred between sophomore and junior year was extra special. Hitler had just broken up with her boyfriend, Asshole, and the end of the school year, and decided late in the evening to make a drunken doctrine. She announced to the party (while standing on the 2nd floor deck, looking down at everyone)... That "if after 5 years with someone, and you don't have a ring, dump the fucker." She felt the need to repeat this over and over. What was so special about this moment is that Weeny was there- just newly dating who would be her Mr. (after 8 years of dating/cohabiting...she obviously didn't take Hitler's advice)... and Mr. Weeny was looking kind of nervous about all the drunken preaching going on. Hitler did have a slight man-hating vibe. The other gentlemen at the party was equally as nervous. Ms. M was also in attendance and actually took Hitler's words to heart (she was dating her future Mr. for almost 3 yrs at that point... and when it was approaching the 5th year she said to me that she and the Mr. had to figure out where their relationship was going, because she remembers Hitler's speech about 5 years, no ring, dump the fucker. All I could think was of all the things my sister has said- you are going to follow her drunken advice about dating time limits??? Ms. M and I still reference that moment...). Hitler also decided, as the evening progressed, the she needed a little something extra (wink wink) and took Tuschka with her on a pot run. The run consisted of going next door and hitting up our neighbor. Hitler was too drunk to really walk alone...which is why Tuschka needed to assist...poor Tuschka. After they left the yard through the side gate, my parents pull into the driveway. Hitler with her brute force, pushes Tuschka into the bushes, telling her to hit the deck and that "my parents are home, they are going to know that I'm drunk and I want pot..." But Mom and Dad park the car and go inside- never realizing that Hitler and Tuschka were even there. Tushcka proceeds to assist Hitler in walking next door to get the stuff. They return moments later... Hitler was yammering on about the close parental encounter....Tuschka is saying that Hitler is a drunken fool... It was a very fun evening... that BBQ...

It was great reliving those precious memories- Hitler was tears from laughing so hard. The BFF and I are laughing as well...Hitler can be pretty fun when she drinks, and loses a lot of her Hitler tendencies.

I got a call Saturday morning from Hitler. She tells me that she's hung over and made Ava go to McD's for some soothing hang over food. (There is a story behind McD's and drinking, which I will have to share next time) She's out of her game, that Hitler. She used to have a liver of steel. Now a couple bottles of wine and one beer, and she's puking.

Lessons from this post:

1. Bitch wine- made for Hitler, and it's yummy

2. Drunken MOH speeches- not good

3. If after 5 years with someone and you don't have a ring, dump the fucker.

Rock Out....

Hitler's blue balls

Christmas decorations...some people got it right, other's don't. Now right in my mind is uniformity. If you are going to twinkle or blink or flash- then everything needs to be twinkling, blinking, or flashing. Stick with one type of light- all white, all multi, ect. I had hodge podge shit. I'm anal.

Hitler, on the other hand, has her house decorated like a GIANT CLUSTER FUCK. And I give her crap about it every year. She initially started out with a theme- blue, white and silver. I asked her if she realized her Christmas theme had high Jewish undertones, but she didn't care- blue, white and silver it was. (I remember one time going through Target and she was yammering on about trying to find little blue balls for the tree...and I made some blue ball comment that had me in tears the rest of the day. I can't remember what I said, but I know it was damn funny! However, this is not the blue balls I'm referring to.)

She started her outside similarly decorated- all blue and white lights. Mazel Tov. However she's been adding to her outdoor decorations. She has snowflakes and stars framing the lower half of her home...one strand is stars the other snowflakes...one slowly twinkles the other does not. She has plastic luminares along her walk way that look like plastic brown lunch bags, a blow up Santa, some spiral white trees by the door, a little lighted Santa and reindeer in the front... like I said, a hodge podge giant cluster fuck. But the piece de la resistance...her main tree in the front that has multi colored lights wrapped around the trunk... and then 2 lonely blue balls dangling from low branches.

Hello Hitler's blue balls- I really, really, really hate you.

Another great Oma quote

To Jaeger- my fat poochie...

"Ohhhhhh.....I'm going to step on that little schwanzl if you don't get out of my way."

One step away from a restraining order

I told myself- no more Edward posts....but I can't stop myself. I still can't get enough of him. If it was possible to have a fictional character file a restraining order, I'd be served right now. I have a disease, an addiction...and I just can't stop reading the books, looking at pictures...CAN'T STOP!!!!

I mean- look at those eyes!! Even if you haven't seen the movie or read the book- the intensity is still pouring out... Hello my unobtainable dream....


And here he is with his little family...

I bet he's good to the last drop too....

Anyone know a good rehab facility??

Hello, my name is L, and I'm an Edward addict....