Good Will toward only a Reasonable Amount of People

I've discovered something new.  Its a freakin' Christmas miracle.

This is the first year that I have not done Christmas cards.  If you're normally on my list and didn't get a card, don't feel bad.  No one on the list is getting a card this year, and its - dare I say it? - LIBERATING.  I am waiting to get arrested and for the earth to stop spinning on its axis, but so far the only place the world is ending is the Mayan calendar.

But that's not the miracle.  Every year, I make candy and cookies and all this crap and I put it in pretty bags with pretty ribbon and I make little handmade tags and I hand these creations out to neighbors and the postal carrier and the dog groomer and the piano teacher and anyone else I need a little gifty for.  Well, not this year.  You know what?  The piano teacher got cash.  The dog groomer?  Cash.  And I bet that's what the garbage man is gonna get, too.

Cash, people!  So simple!  I have always tried to be thoughtful and personal and save a little money on gifts.  But you know what?  I have paid!  With my sanity!  And how many of those thoughtful, home-made gifts ended up in the trash?  Probably lots of them!  (I will say, though, that if those peanut butter pretzel balls covered with chocolate got thrown out, that is just a crime.  I want to eat my way out of a ball pit filled with those things.)

All the cards and the candy and packaging and mailing has started my Christmas seasons off in a grim way, and I scarcely recover by the time Christmas has rolled around because I also have to shop for actual gifts, and wrap them, and mail some, and bake cookies with Leila etc. etc. 

Its a revelation!  Who knew that doing less for fewer people over the holidays was the secret to a merry Christmas? 

P.S.  Chicken Korma?  Fantastic!

Eau de Bacon

Today was a better day.  Regardless of what is happening in the world, the people I live with demand that there is food to eat in the house, and that they have clean underwear, and that things are "picked up" around here.  They also insist that I must wash the sheets that the cat puked on a week ago.  Fine, whatever.

Today I made bacon jam.  Yes, it was bacon jam day.  Its like jam, only its bacon, see?  You use it like jam, only on things that taste good with bacon.  Like everything.  Tomorrow, Leila will be taking a bacon jam and peanut butter sandwich to school.  She's no moron.

It was hard to continue to feel entirely blue while the house smelled like bacon for hours.  Its was also hard to feel entirely blue when Corn Pops AND Double Stuff Oreos were ON SALE at the supermarket.  Its like the universe wants me to smile and get fat.  I bet those oreos would taste awesome with a little bacon jam on them.  I'm not going to find out.  I have limits.  (Why does the spellchecker think oreos is spelled wrong?  Don't you think "oreos" should be in the dictionary by now?)

Tomorrow I have to clean the house, and I'm going to Whole Foods to by two teaspoons of tumeric and ground coriander from the bulk spice bin.  I tried to buy them in the supermarket today, but the only ground coriander was in a large jar and that just chaps my hide.  I don't need 6 tablespoons of ground coriander that will sit in my spice drawer until I die, I just need half a teaspoon.   I would even have settled for one of those little jars, just to save myself the trip to Whole Foods tomorrow, but noOOOooo.  I'm making Chicken Korma.  Its Indian.  I think.  The recipe also calls for a cinnamon stick, but screw that.   Watch the bulk spices cost more than it I had bough the big jars and just thrown out the rest.

Christmas is in a week.  I should be panicking by now.  I'm not.  Something's wrong...

Friday, Saturday, Sunday

Its Sunday as I write this, and I am having a really hard time getting past the tragedy on Friday.  It leaves me wondering if my comeback is more fragile than I thought or whether crying in the shower is the only sane and rational response to what happened.  I've decided its because they were little, little kids.  Which, when you think about it, is kind of ridiculous: The people who died in Aurora were somebody's kids, and the mall in Portland, and Gabbie Giffords, and the victims of the other senseless acts of violence that occur every day around this country.  Were any of those people assholes who deserved it?  Maybe a couple, you never know, but probably not, right?  Maybe its just that these little kids didn't even have enough time on this earth to potentially become assholes.  They were sweet, untainted, innocent little babies. And teachers.  Brave, brave teachers.

L doesn't know anything about what happened, but I suspect that by the end of the school day tomorrow she will.  I will have to answer questions.  Like, Why?  I have been trying to teach her that there is more good in the world than bad, and I truly believe that there is, but its kind of hard to make a convincing argument right now.  For a kid like Leila, who likes rules and order and tradition, how can I teach her that she will have to leave room for chaos and randomness?  And that sometimes, even when it seems impossible, she's going to have to bend her brain around things like Friday?  Or should anyone bend their brains around it?  Maybe that's the problem; we've gotten used to things like this and our brains are already bent and we need to unbend them.

I'm rambling.  I'm so sad.  My stomach hurts and I'm having trouble getting to sleep at night, and I have to go to a basketball game in and hour.  I'm going to watch little kids wrestle on the floor over a basketball, get fouled, make and miss baskets, and I'm going to cheer for both sides, and try to get my mind closer to home for a while.

God, this sucks.

Buried

I'm so sorry. Where have I been?  I don't know. Doin' stuff, not doin' stuff, whatever.  I would like to be able to blame my unreliable posting on recent depression but I think its just my ever present laziness.  Need to get back in the habit.  I have been thinking about you, about what to write, like how I wish there was drive-thru everything; drive-thru pet supplies, drive-thru frozen yogurt, drive-thru post office.  And I wanted to write about this fun bus shopping trip that I went on (sort of drive-thru, but I did get off the bus.  It would have been weird if I hadn't.) but there wasn't anything funny about it, it was just fun, but not "ha ha" fun.

I could write about how Leila keeps using my 26 year old Schick Personal Touch razor to shave her one armpit that has 5 hairs on it.  The blades aren't 26 years old, don't worry.  I have never bought another razor before (that was my first one and I'll probably have it until I die or I'm too indifferent to shave) and I discovered that they still sell them on the internet so I'm getting L her own Personal Touch razor.  Those 5 hairs need their own personal touch.  I'm thinking of giving it to her for her birthday in front of people, along with some ProActive and Are You There God Its Me, Margret.  Too much?

In the last post I told you about the military giving brunch that we were planning.  It was a smash hit.  Not only were my baked goods delicious (although the donuts were the first to go) but people brought so much stuff for care packages!  I have filled 5 boxes, and I still have a ton to pack up!  This trip to the post office is going to be a doozy.  Check it out:

 

Half my dining table is now cleared, all the personal hygiene items are packed, and now I have snacks and books and magazines left.  People are awesome.

We also got a Christmas tree, so right now, there are three huge Christmas boxes, tons of tissue paper, boxes packed with stuff for soldiers, a table half full with stuff waiting to be packed, and the kitchen is still a mess from making tacos last night.  Yesterday, I was on fire; total housewifapalooza up in this bitch.  Laundry, grocery shopping, packing stuff, cleaning things, MAKING DINNER AT 5:45, but today I am far less motivated.  Its just such a mess, I can't face it.  Its 10:30 and I'm not dressed.  I'm supposed to make a meatloaf.  No wonder I'm writing today!  Its a great way to procrastinate!

I have to start, though, right?  I have to dig the house out of the mess, right?  CAN'T SOMEBODY ELSE DO IT????

 

Be the Change

I'm having a little brunch party thing in two weeks where people will come with their children and we will all write letters to soldiers serving overseas and also to military families here in the U.S.  I also asked people to bring some items for care packages for soldiers, and Leila and I will divvy them all up and take them to the post office.  I got the idea after Leila and I watched this Oprah thing about military spouses, and she was very upset.  We had to have the whole "But why is there war??" conversation, which was a bummer for both of us.  Because, really, WHY IS THERE WAR?  Its so frustrating!

I told her that there is a lot of ugliness and unfairness in the world, but that there is even more beauty and grace, and if you focus on the ugliness and not the beauty, well, its not a good way to live.  Then I asked her if she knew who Gandhi was and, lo and behold, she did, and we both said together, "Be the change you want to see in the world."  I was astounded and delighted that she knew that quote.  I told her that maybe when you're a ten year-old girl you don't feel like you can make a difference, but I think you can, and we decided that this party was something we could do that would make a difference, however small, and be the change we want to see in the world.  She also just found out that the U.S. has been at war he whole life, and she was all, "WHAT?  Are you SERIOUS?"

A few days later we sat down to invite lots of people with an Evite.  This part was excruciating.  She likes all the designs that I don't like, and I WANT IT JUST THE WAY I WANT IT.  So we compromised, and neither one of us got our first choice, but we agreed on something, and I also just wanted to get that part over with.  We sent the Evite to 25 people, and I've gotten, like, five responses.  So, now, this is what I'm doing:  I'm going to my computer every five minutes, hitting refresh on my email, even though that's not necessary with these new fangled computers, and waiting, impatiently, for more responses. 

Evite makes me very needy and obsessive.  I need to know how many muffins to make, people!  I realize that this is stupid and a waste of energy.  People need to think about it, check their calendars, weigh whether they want to come at all, and if they do come and don't bring anything for the care, packages, will they be judged?  You want to know what else?  I am terrible at responding to Evites.  Terrible.  So I guess its just karma, this need to constantly check to see if anyone else has RSVPd.

If you're reading this, and you know me and want to come to the brunch, leave me a comment, you're welcome! I will not judge you if you didn't have time to get anything for the care package!  There will be mimosas!  And if you don't know me, and you live far away, and you want to be the change you want to see in the world, too, go to Michelle Obama's official website which will lead you to a place where you can send letters to military families, or go to www.anysoldier.com for information on sending care packages and letters.

I realize this post is not very funny, so fart fart fart, Autumn, doing dishes. 

Be the change, people, BE THE CHANGE!

How Thanksgiving made me look Good

So here it is:  I ruled Thanksgiving.  It was beautiful, the food was tasty, people had a good time, and the dog only stole four crackers off the coffee table. 

But let's dig a little deeper.  You may know how my family calls my husband "Poor Rob" because he has the misfortune to be married to me which makes it necessary for him to "do everything."  In the last few months, during my little break from, you know, life, he did do everything, but usually I do way more stuff than my family thinks I do.  Rob is very comfortable and calm in the kitchen, and I am less so.  Especially when there are things on more than on burner; that can send me over the edge.  But I wanted to make sure that my family saw that I was just as involved in the kitchen as he was, so I told him to make sure I looked good.

At one point during cocktail hour, he went into the kitchen to get his burners on, and I was all, "Do you need me in there?"  and he was all, "No." and then I gave him the death stare, imperceptible to anyone but him.  Two minutes later he came out of the kitchen and said, "Actually, I do need you in the kitchen." so I went in and was all, "What do you need me to do?" and he was all, "Nothing, just look busy." 

Turns out, I only cooked two things: soup the day before, and stuffing the day of.  And it was Stovetop Stuffing, so its not like it was hard, even if I did saute apples and celery to put in it.  I did clean the house, though, and set the table, so there's that.

Then, after Thanksgiving, Rob cleaned up the whole entire mess.  I didn't ask him to do it, but over two days he ran the dishwasher four times, put everything away, washed the table cloth and napkins, and I didn't life a finger.  I was exhausted, and still am, but so was he.  Don't know what got into him, but I'm not complaining!

So, I did it.  I hosted Thanksgiving.  It blew the doors off.  Now, its a month until Christmas.  Time to gird my loins.

Have a Thankful One

Guess what I'm doing tomorrow?  I am hosting Thanksgiving!  For the first time, EVER!  I will spend today prepping my house.  I've already made soup.  And yesterday?  You know what?  I cleaned the bathroom!  Yes, I made that bathroom my bitch.

Except for the floors and the tub and all the hair molecules that are stuck in the bead board.  I'm saving those for Rob because I can't physically do them, and they are his hair molecules stuck in the bead board, so he should clean them.  He's also in charge of making the front porch look presentable, and he will be making the turkey and the gravy since a) he knows what he's doing and does a really good job, and b) I don't like to touch raw meat.  The rest of the stuff we will cook together.  Because togetherness is so beautiful.

Leila will be in charge of dusting everything, including all the base boards, and I'm going to teach her how to polish the small amount of silver things that I have.  She is also making place cards out of leaves.

I am feeling great!  I don't know if its the anti-depressants, the birth control pills, or that my little nutty finally ran its course, but the sun is out, the trees are so stunning I could stare out the window all day, and I feel like my old self again!  I have a therapy appointment this morning, and I have no idea what to talk about.  Maybe the therapist and I should just high-five for 50 minutes, and then I'll write him a check.

Happy Thanksgiving, every body!  Save room for dessert!

View from my back door.  Love it.