Goodbye 2009 - Hello 2010

All right - here's the toast. Is everyone ready? Diane? Stop chugging your champagne as fast as I can pour it, okay? Slow down and work with me, here.

And Otin? No one said you could drink double-fisted over there. I see ya', Dude. You're right next to Michel who is currently fighting over a beer bong with Mo. Shame on you two.

Ummm... Pastor Sharon, we're not going to play Twister right now. In fact, you're not allowed to play at all 'cause you'll pee on the mat. She? Cheri? Back away from the M&Ms for a minute, I'm trying to say something important. Dar? Help me keep the peace here, will ya'?

I was about to give a New Year's toast. God, you guys are a wild bunch.

Now then... ahem... raise your glass...

...

...

... do I hear crickets?...

...

Crap! I forgot what I was going to say.

Happy New Year, anyway!


"New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." - Mark Twain

Santa's Gifts Tell Their Own Story

Well… it happened. Santa actually listened to me! Well, kinda, anyway. I didn't get my winning lottery ticket, (obviously), but I did get all of Michel's Christmas presents!

A couple of weeks ago, I had the presence of mind to let Santa know that Michel had been rather complain-y and whiney all year and was maybe a little less deserving of her presents then, say, ME. I was just doing my civic duty or something, because you all know it’s kinda true and I have been extra good this whole year and was well-deserving of her presents in addition to my own.

So. I am quite certain that the suspense is killing you, but here is the list of items that Michel obviously asked Santa to bring, but I got ‘em. I think we can learn a lot about our friend from this little list:

Little Debbie Christmas Tree snack cakes (that are already all gone because, you know, they really are kinda tasty).

Talking Battleship. Seriously, Michel? Dork.

Rosary beads. Apparently Michel anticipated that she would celebrate the birth of Jesus with a beer pong game and get herself in the kind of trouble that she’d have to pray herself out of in a big way. Should I send them to her?

A megaphone. No shit. A megaphone. The people of Sudan thank Santa for not letting that fall into Michel’s hands. As if she needs some sort of sound amplifying device so there would never be any way to escape her whining.

Workout clothes. Michel? THERE ARE SOME THINGS SPANDEX SHOULD NOT BE ASKED TO DO. Just sayin’.

A pool boy. Honestly, Michel, Josh would not be happy about this. I’m willing to keep this to myself.

Karo syrup. The white kind. In a plastic bottle. Much like the workout clothes, I have no use for this item.

Last, but not least, well kinda least ‘cause it has no real value, is a note from Santa that states he is not a drug mule, nor is he licensed to dispense medicine, so he could not deliver Adderall or any of the other mood-enhancers that Michel requested.

Apparently she will be whiney again in 2010.

A Little Note to Myself

Dear Blognut,

You are fast approaching the season when you are wont to look back over the past year and evaluate everything you’ve done or not done. You will be tempted to hold it all up to the light for closer inspection, wade through the details, and get all judge-y and harsh with yourself.

While you’re at it, you’ll see some things you did well, some things you didn’t do well, and some things that you are still hoping to finish. You’ll remove some of your old goals from the “To Do List” and you’ll add some new ones for the upcoming year even though you steadfastly deny ever stooping to make New Year’s Resolutions.

If I may be so bold, (and I may, since I’m having this conversation with myself and all), I’d like to suggest, dear Blognut, that you give yourself a little credit, recognize that you are a work in progress, and note that you will always be a work in progress. It is highly unlikely that you will ever arrive in a place called, “Done,” and yet there can be a certain peace found in this traveling. For example, remember the old days when the traveling felt more like you were bobbing around like a cork at sea? Sure, you still have those days, everyone does, but you know, for the most part, that you are where you belong and you are not at all lost. That is peace and progress.

Look around you, my fuzzy blue friend. There is Mr. Blognut right over there to your left, and there is a whole pile of noisy blognutians running about and acting all crazy and weird. They make you happy and whole. They are what matters most to you. And look at your friends! For you have some very, very good ones, you know? You have both the bloggy and non-bloggy kind who make you laugh ‘til you cry, or sometimes cry ‘til you laugh. Either way is fine – they are all wonderful people.

My point? You have what you need, Blognut. Focus less on the actual timelines, and more on the growing. Do that, and things will continue to fall into place. You had a good year and a lot to be thankful for; there is no reason to think that 2010 should be any different.

Happy travels!

Peace to you,
Blognut

This blognut is planning to take a few days off to enjoy the Christmas holidays. I wish you all the best kind of holiday season whether it is Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Donut Day. Know that I will be around stalking your blogs from time to time and you are never safe from my watchful, googly eye. See you all in the New Year or maybe a little sooner!

Dear Santa... Can we talk?

Dear Santa,

So as not to risk any misunderstanding or chance of disappointment again this year, I wanted to take a moment to drop you a letter. I know you get a lot of them this time of year, but if I could just have a little of your time, I'd really appreciate it.

Last year I specifically asked you for a winning lottery ticket and you failed me even though I double-secret promised you that I would share and I said pretty please with sugar on top, whipped cream, a cherry, and little ground-up sprinkles.

Dude. I do not take that shit lightly. Do you not understand the importance of this request? I plan to use the money to feed the poor blognutians and educate children all over blognut manor the world. I have a really big heart like that, Santa, and blognuts are really all about instant gratification.

Think how easy I am making this for you. I have not asked you for 20-30 items that you and your elves will spend weeks and months hammering together up there at The North Pole. Oh, no! I asked you for one tiny, little, not so terribly inconvenient for you request. That is all. ONE THING. I can go out any buy my own 20-30 items that poor little third world children spent weeks and months hammering together without bothering you one bit. Think of the labor costs you are saving!

Also? I don't like to think of myself as a tattle-tale, but I think it's only right I should tell you that Michel has been naughty and very complain-y and whiney this year. You can bring me her presents in addition to my winning lottery ticket if you want to. She knows she was bad and she will understand that it has to be this way because I was full of extra goodness this year. Just sayin'. You know? In case your listmakers really didn't state that clearly. I know how hard it can be to find good, competent help these days, Santa. I totally sympathize with you on that.

Ok, thanks, Santa!

Love,
Extra-Good Blognut... who has done nothing at all bad this year that anyone knows about and should, therefore, be entitled to the one simple, little thing that she wanted for two years in a row. Two years, Santa! Two! One, TWO!!! I love you.

I'm Done, Dammit!

I originally posted this two days before Christmas last year. I found myself sitting down to write a post tonight that was becoming eerily similar to this one, so I decided to save myself the trouble and just go with a re-run since I had only about six people read it in the first place. Also? Hello... I'm really lazy... and I'm tired... and Diane? This was the very first post of mine that you ever read. Happy Anniversary, Darlin'!

I made the mistake of stopping at Target today to pick up "one more thing." Uh, right. When have I ever gone there and come out with ONE thing? I swear I have been in that store at least 10 times in the past month and bought no Christmas gifts* because I couldn't find anything I wanted. *Note, I did not buy Christmas gifts on those trips, but nowhere does that imply that I didn't buy anything else.

So today I walk in there thinking I'm just going to grab up the item that I decided to settle on for my mom because a one-way ticket to somewhere far really wouldn't be a very nice gift. Suddenly it's as if Target has changed their entire inventory into perfect gifts for the kids and one of those items was mocking me at that very moment.

Ummm... I need no more gifts for these children and I tell myself so right away. Stop the madness, your kids are spoiled enough as it is, get OUT of this store. Look away! Run, don't walk. There's a Starbucks** up front, get yourself a triple Espresso Truffle and get your big, chocolate-lovin' butt back into your car. **Because it makes more sense to give your money to Starbucks for the good of your big, chocolate-lovin' butt than it does to buy more unnecessary crap for the kids.

Alas, no, it was not to be. I looked away once, twice, three times... and then I picked up the item that had caught my eye. The internal argument was lost, the economy lives another day. I not only bought the item that tormented me, I had to find two more gifts to keep everything even because, according to the spreadsheet***, I had already balanced the number of gifts and the amount spent per child within a reasonable tolerance level and I was throwing off the entire thing. ***Yes, if you must know, there is a spreadsheet complete with formulas. I am a banker, it's what I do, what do you want?

Tomorrow is another day, and I refuse to set one foot inside of any store. Not even Starbucks, because I will end up purchasing 3 coffee mugs and that's just nuts. I vow to leave all forms of payment behind, to go straight to work and straight home. I will not even stop for gas. God knows these kids don't need any gas cards, ice scrapers, or jugs of window cleaner and I know I can't be trusted to bypass any of these perfect little last minute gifts for the kids. The economy will have to learn to survive without my assistance.

Who Cares?

I gotta ask a question. And if you just had that fleeting feeling of, “Oh, no! Here she goes again!” hit you upside your head, you are wise beyond limits, my dear readers.

Excuse me for a second while I go shower and put on some make-up, because if I’m going to jump up on my soapbox and draw attention to myself, I want every blue hair in place.

Be right back.

*jeopardy theme*

Okay, I'm back. Here’s the thing.

For the love of God and all that is holy, who in the hell cares how many women Tiger slept with outside of his marriage?

Why? There are so many important-y type things going on this world; like hunger, healthcare, education, and the economy, to name a few. Why are people hanging on every shred of news they can find about Tiger’s affairs? The only people who should be so absorbed in the details and in the depth of his obvious sickness, are his wife and family. What difference does it make to us whether or not she knew, should have known, or didn't know? He's a pig. She found out. The "when" of it, and the "why" of it don't change our daily lives one bit.

We build our sports figures and movie stars up to such high levels of greatness and we create in them a sense that they can do no wrong, (because we allow it and we choose to ignore it when they break laws and such), only to rejoice in their failings. WHAT is wrong with this world?

I’ll say this just once. He’s obviously got a problem; a huge problem. And, as I’ve been saying all along, I can’t back his wife for beating the hell out of him with a golf club, but I can’t exactly promise I wouldn’t do the same thing, either. Also? I’m all over her beating the hell out of his stuff and I’m pretty sure I would throw Mr. Blognut’s stuff out into the yard and set fire to it if he ever cheated.

With that said I think we should all move on and let this family work through their stuff in relative peace and quiet.

I also think that we should stop turning ordinary people who happen to excel at either sports or being beautiful, into superheroes who think their behavior has no boundaries. And we should stop soaking up every tabloid or internet website that details their bad behavior so that our various media outlets don’t get rich off of it and can go back to reporting shit that matters.

That is all.

F-F-F-F-F-F-REEEEEEZING IZ ME

Blognuts should not be stored in temperatures lower than 65F.

Just this very morning, when I got into my car and started off on my icy journey to Bumblefuck Bank & Trust, my dashboard thermometer said 3F. Did you hear me? I said THREE.

I'll repeat it again for those of you in the back, blognuts should not be stored in temperatures lower than 65F.

Every single one of my blue hairs was tipped with frost. Also? I'm fairly certain that one of my googly eyes froze, chipped off, and then rolled under the seat of my car.

To avoid having this happen EVER again, and because I can't afford to freeze off my one remaining googly eye, I'm going to have to insist that some of you warmer climate dwelling bloggers invite me to visit for the winter.

To ease the burden, I think you should all work together to come up with a schedule so I don't get stuck anywhere boring wear out my welcome in any one place for too long.

Also? Since I'm really helpful like this, I will refer you to a previous post illustrating how very easy it will be for you to take care of me.

Now, where else are you going to get this kind of thoughtful, detailed instruction?

WTF Wednesday - Blognut is REALLY CRABBY

I have absolutely no idea why this post showed up in everyone's reader today, but it's cracking me up. I have a WTF Wednesday post from December showing up on Tuesday, February 2nd. Seriously? I'm not the LEAST BIT crabby today, but I'm going to leave it here because it is a testament to WhatTheFuckery everywhere!


I’m due to post, but I’m feeling a little unpleasant today. Enter at your own risk.

I’ve decided that there is something wrong with the world. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but most of the world’s inhabitants are annoying to me today. Sure, there are those of you winking and nodding at your computer screen at this very moment and saying something deep and wise, like, “Well, Blognut. The whole rest of the world CAN’T be the problem and the common denominator is you.”

DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT COMMON DENOMINATORS!!! And SHUT UP. And WHAT.EVER!

Also? This may be a good time for me to mention that I’ve actually killed people for less than that. Calling me on my shit is something you can do another day, but I don’t recommend it today.

So. What I need from you is simple: 1) Pat me on my fuzzy, blue head; 2) Tell me you love me; And, 3) Sneak quietly away while you still have your hide.

I promise to be more civil tomorrow… or to at least be quiet.

Simple Rules So I Don't Have to Hit You

Dear Chicagoland Drivers,

(Where "Chicagoland Drivers" equals "people other than Blognut," who, it just so happens, drives fine.)

Today was our first real snow on a commuting day and there are some things that I need to remind you about if there is any chance that we are going to get along amicably over the next several months. As such, I’ll need you to read and commit the following things to memory:

1. Two inches of snow is not a reason to drive five miles an hour. It’s like rain. Treat it like rain and move on with your drive.

2. The lines on the interstate are where they always were – even if you can’t see them – so you are expected to know where your lane is and stay in it.

3. The same is true of parking lots. A little snow is no excuse for pulling your car into a lot and stopping wherever you like. You need to park in proximity to other cars or you are a dirty rule-breaker.

4. Front-wheel drive cars can not do doughnuts in parking lots unless you drive in reverse circles. Do I have to tell you everything?

5. If I appear to be tailgating you on the highway, it’s because Mr. Blognut still hasn’t put any windshield wiper fluid in my van and I can’t see a thing. I’m hoping to get up close enough to you so that your tire crap splashes up onto my windshield and I can use it to clean off my window a bit.

6. Do not slam on your brakes when I am tailgating you for this, or any other reason. I have no qualms about hitting you. Not because I can’t drive, mind you, but because you annoy me.

7. Don’t annoy me. The body shop sends me Christmas cards. Don’t make me prove to you that they like me best.

They really do.

8. I am in a bigger hurry than you. It's a simple fact. Don't try to understand it, just move out of my way.

9. I mean it; MOVE.

10. Pay attention enough for both of us and we'll get along just fine.

Sincerely,
Blognut

You Think He's Not Telling Me Something?

The Boy went to his first school dance tonight...


...this is the position he strikes while telling me about the girls he DID NOT actually dance with, but who "may have been next to him" during the songs.

Heh. :)

A Happy Healthier Blognut?

I started taking a multi-vitamin today so I can be healthier or something. Blognuts don’t really like multi-vitamins; especially multi-vitamins the size of the Goodyear Blimp. I’m just sayin’ that I did it anyway… with coffee… like an idiot… but now I’m getting ahead of myself.

It all started because I went into GNC yesterday to buy something for The Boy for Christmas. (Heh, see that, GNC? I should totally get paid for this little commercial.) Anyway, while I was there, I got side-tracked and ended up looking at the multi-vitamins because they had this big sign that said blognuts my age should probably be taking some sort of something that would keep our bones from crumbling to dust and our blood from becoming iron-deficient and thereby useless. Honest - the sign said that.

So… I bought the multi-vitamin to prevent all sorts of serious ailments that would bring about my early demise. (You’d see the humor in that if you understood that I spent the better part of the day today begging people to shoot me, but that is a separate matter and therefore not relevant to this story.)

Anyway… my mind wandered for a second, but we can get back on track now. Incidentally, these mega-vitamins are supposed to help me focus, so you can see that is working really well.

Where were we?

Oh yeah, the vitamins. So… I left the vitamins in my car last night because I knew that I would remember to take one if they were sitting there on the seat in my car since I spend an inordinate amount of time in my car and that’s where I think of everything. And it worked. The vitamins greeted me with a big, sunny grin this morning and reminded me that I needed to start taking them. You know… so my bones don’t turn to dust and all.

But I had no water.

I had only coffee. HOT COFFEE. Coffee that was SO hot that I probably could have sued someone for about 83 million dollars if I spilled it in my crotch had it not been for the warning on the lid that said something brilliant like, “Caution: The beverage you are about to enjoy will actually scald the blue fur right off of you and take about 88 layers of skin along with it.”

I wonder what made them think I would enjoy a beverage that hot.

But there I was all excited about these new vitamins and I forgot about the hotness of the incredibly hot coffee I was about to really not enjoy at all because it was so hot, so I popped the vitamin into my mouth and took a big swill of the burn-y hot coffee.

YEE HAW!!! MOTHER OF GOD!!!

I burned off all but one of my taste buds and could most likely eat shit today and not know it or taste it as long as I kept it away from that one remaining taste bud. And did I mention the big-ness of the vitamin being all ginormous and huge like the Goodyear Blimp? ‘Cause it just sat there in my mouth, only the coffee had also burned off the protective layer of might-this-really-be-Teflon that prevents you from finding out that your vitamins taste like a bitter blend of battery acid and dandelions if you have at least one working taste bud. So I had to take yet another big swill of the burn-y hot coffee. As you might have guessed, this caused my tonsils to actually dissolve. So that’s a problem solved right there, isn’t it? ‘Cause blognuts don’t really need those, do they?

Anyway, you’ll be relieved to know that I got the vitamin to go down my throat on the third swallow, and it apparently went straight to my kidneys and turned my pee into a cosmic radioactive vibrant yellow that I have never before seen, but I kind of like, so I’ll keep taking them if only for the entertainment value of looking at that color and giggling about it whenever I pee.

Giggling about pee makes me happy.