Deconstructing C’mas…the sequel

I think back fondly to my own clean sweep of C'mas just a day or so into 2012. In a blast of cleaning frenzy aided by my new storage boxes from Bed, Bath my home went from Winter Wonderland to Bring on Spring in less than 48 hours. Woohoo!

Each day on my way home from work I'd note a few more homes defrocked of their holiday finery. Most people use January 6^th (Little C'mas or the day the Wise Men arrived to pay homage to Baby Jesus) as the C'mas décor cutoff date and this year it fell on a Friday making that weekend the local C'mas defrocking weekend (especially with the unseasonably warm temps).

By Monday the 9^th the world had returned to its less twinkly splendor. No more wreaths on doors and windows, no more bushes swathed in colored lights or faux icicle lights swinging from the rafters. Instead of peeking into random windows and being greeted by C'mas trees festooned with baubles it was back to seeing a lamp or TV table decorating the window view.

Sure there was the random straggler who had their tree down inside the house but still was turning on the outside strings of white lights dripping from their rafters or letting the Santa snowglobe bounce on the lawn for another week or so but overall, the holiday fervor had been tamped down to the dreary brown hues of mid-Winter. Well, all but those two damn houses.

There are two houses in my neighborhood (nowhere near each other so I can't accuse them of competing on some level) that remain fully decked out. There are still trees twinkling from inside the living room window and the full spectrum of holiday fluff and bluster in the yard, giant nativity scenes, bouncing Santas, twinkly lights, the whole nine. I know these people are home. I see their cars come and go, I see their porch lights and bedroom lights turn on and off, it's not like they've skipped town until the Spring thaw and left C'mas to linger on until their return. Nope. They're just lettin' the season linger on well past its yearly usefulness (to line the pockets of retail establishments, right?).

In the past few days I've noticed that at least one of these homes is starting to chip away at the tree ornaments. First the perfectly placed gold garland came down. The next day there were fewer ornaments on the tree, this morning there were even fewer ornaments on the tree and the lawn was devoid of a gaggle of C'mas icons though the rafter lights and front door wreath remained intact. WTF people? Really? How long can this process take you? I can't even imagine how or why this takes so long. Aren't they sick of looking at it yet? I can only imagine them glancing over during a commercial break of The Good Wife and going, "hmmmm, I think I'll remove 4 more ornaments tonight, that'll move things along".

Assuming they decorated T'giving weekend, they are now roughly in their TENTH WEEK of living in a C'mas wonderland. It's just not supposed to last this long people. MAKE IT GO AWAY, PLEASE!

I can't miss it if it never leaves now can I?

Isn’t this fun?

The four of you who read this blog (HIIIIII!) must be wondering what the HELL is going on. I mean there've been post after post tonight.

Okay, yeah, I admit I am taking a page from the Pat and Vanna playbook and possibly drinking and blogging but, well, that's a different discussion (woohoo, day off tomorrow).

But the OTHER reason (the REAL reason) is that with 2010 I can seamlessly publish this to my blog. It's amazing. It'll subject you to endless blog posts on my whim.

And I haven't even set this up at WORK yet.

Get ready kiddies, I feel empowered!

Oh C’mas Tree

Okay, you get it, I do have a deep and abiding affection for the whole C'mas experience (minus the religious part, don't get me started); the lights, the music, the overall decorations, the festiveness, yup I LOVE IT (oh yeah, and don't forget those awesome holiday movies…"Holiday in Handcuffs"!). But part of the reason I CAN love it is the limited nature of the whole experience. It starts (earlier every year), it HAPPENS…and it goes away.

Well, it goes away for MOST of us…

There are at least two homes in my neighborhood that are still fully decked out for C'mas. As of this coming Sunday it will be 5 weeks since December 25^th. The weather has been unseasonably warm and even mostly dry, plenty of time to de-construct C'mas inside and out but these two homes, two families, not them, they're hangin' onto those twinkly lights and bouncy blow-up snowglobes for all it's worth.

One home has a beautifully decorated (fake) tree. The first time I noticed it was probably within a week after T'giving, it was perfect, the garland was draped just right, there were lovely white lights and perfectly spaced glass globes. I swooned. But now we're about two months past that moment of love at first sight and frankly, I'm a bit bored by the symmetrical garland and the twinkly white lights. I want to see a blank window again. I want to see simple white sheers and lovely drapes. I want to gaze in and see their sofas and coffee table. Mr. and Mrs. Middle America…TAKE DOWN THAT TREE (please).

Look the whole reason to love something as divisive as CHRISTMAS is because it STOPS being C'mas and these people will NOT let it stop. Look we're almost up to that awesome American holiday…Super Bowl Sunday…then we'll be immersed in Valentine's Day (ugh, and I'm actually IN a loving relationship and I say…UGH).

I implore you folks, respect the time constraints of C'mas, take it down by January 6^th, tuck it all away and don't re-visit it again until the Friday after T'giving when you trudge reluctantly into the attic in your jammies while your family slumbers in a turkey day stupor around you.

Really, you'll be surprised how much more ROOM you have when that tree is tucked away in the giant tree bag you snagged on sale from Bed, Bath.

Margarita Mondays!

And Tuesdays, Wednesdays, ANY DAYS! So Pat Sajak has 'fessed up to tippin' a few with Vanna before they had to peddle those ceramic dalmations. I give them credit, they're smarter than I ever had them pegged to be.

If you're a tad younger than me you'll have no idea what I'm talking about so I'll fill ya in here. For many, many years Wheel of Fortune didn't dole out cash and swell trips; oh NOOOOOOOOO, they made you "buy" crap with your winnings you couldn't just leave there with cash in pocket. Probably the best known gift was the much maligned CERAMIC DALMATION, I don't actually remember any of the other prizes just that damn dalmation.

So good ol' Pat Sajak managed to TELL THE TRUTH (so not cool, Pat, much better to LIE and then be found out later) in an interview and the media can't get enough of it. Sweet LORD, this is hilarious. I can't even express how much more respect I have for Pat and Vanna after this admission. My one true wish is that everyone else feels the same affection for these two as I now feel.

C'mon kids, let's get on the honesty bandwagon. Yeah, they downed on average four 'gritas during the set turnovers. Well what the hell were they SUPPOSED to be doing? You can only read so much Shakespeare on your downtime, may as well party hard and love your life.

Oh Pat and Vanna, I sincerely *heart* you both!

I’ll turn you into a NEWT!

So much in the news these days; so very, very much.

Newt (the American presidential candidate not the lizard referred to in Monty Python) is promising us we'll have a settlement or something like that on the moon by 2020. Really? Why? Is he trying to feed into some childhood dream of going into space? Folks, we need jobs, here, in America, right NOW. We need to MAKE THINGS again, we need to MANUFACTURE shit. We don't need to settle on the moon for any real or supposed reason. Truly we don't.

Let's focus on the current crop of out-of-work, lazy, self-entitled Americans before we start focusing on fucking up a whole other celestial body.

Really, just STOP IT!

Smokers Unite!

Well, I actually don't need to tell them to do that, they already HAVE united, right outside the door I use to enter and exit the office building where I work. C'mon people, I get it you still smoke and it's your RIGHT (dammit) but do you need to cluster around the door? There are picnic tables 30 feet away that you could sit at or at least move off to the side. Why oh why do you think it's a good idea to literally be in a semi-circle around the door?

All these people are educated adults, right? I mean their dressed in the typical business-casual uniform and there are only "business-y" businesses in this building so it isn't like they've been sheltered from the world and raised by wolves somewhere. They should have some peripheral understanding of basic polite behavior, right?

Clearly wrong since there they are every time I try to leave the building (I get in too early for them to be there on my way in) during the day.

If you're a smoker, I respect your American right to suck smoke deep into your lungs, swirl it around, and spew it out in fetid plumes through your nose and mouth…just DON'T DO IT ON ME. Ewwwwww.

Have we met?

I've been with my husband for more than 10 years. We haven't been married for 10 years but we've been together for that long and shared a home for most of that time. But how much do we really know about each other?

We're both pretty private people about personal habits and it occurs to me that I don't know a lot about certain things he does and vice versa. It's not big things so much (I don't think so anyway) it's little dopey things that I can't even picture, it's actually a weird little fantasy world I have of my husband.

I just went into the upstairs bathroom; he'd just taken a shower. We have a little space heater in the bathroom because I like to get out of the shower into a VERY WARM ROOM. I never gave it any thought as to whether or not he even noticed there was a heater in the room but then I went to move it and realized it was warm to the touch. Hmmm, does he do the same thing as I do? Does he make the bathroom toasty warm so that he steps out of the steamy embrace of a shower into the warm air of an overheated bathroom? Maybe so.

What about that nose hair trimmer in the medicine chest? I'm pretty sure he uses it but I've never actually seen it in-use.

There was a mega-millions lottery ticket on the desk last week. I asked him if he was in the habit of buying mega-millions tix and he said that it was an impulse purchase at the liquor store but I just couldn't conjure up an image of my husband as a lottery ticket purchaser. Weird, right? I mean lots of people buy lottery tix every damn day, I do it sometimes and I'll bet he can't picture me doing that. Hmmm.

There's just these odd little habits that I know I have that he doesn't know I have and that's both cool and weird. On the other hand maybe he knows about some of them but I don't know he knows. I love to wear socks to bed and then take them off as soon as I'm warm enough and run my feet over the cold sheets. Does he know that? I don't really know.

There are just so many things that I know he does but I don't really KNOW and even more than that…I CAN'T PICTURE him doing.

I can't even decide if I'm curious about these things. Some of them are really personal things. We're not those people that just walk in on the other when they're in the bathroom. We don't do it. Hell, we're not even Facebook friends even though we have a ton of "friends" in common (a bit weird, right?). I don't know his shower habits (nor he mine).

I have an ex-husband ( I have more than one) who had no personal boundaries. He thought nothing of helping his sisters with their math homework while sitting on the bowl taking a dump. YUK! I don't really need that much info about my partner. I don't WANT that much info and dude, BOUNDARIES! WTF?

But I'm a tad fascinated by what I don't know about my current (and hopefully FINAL) husband. I love the man, truly I do. He's handsome (he is, he's damn good looking for a man of his age or even 10 years younger) and he's pretty sweet and kind and he tolerates the hideous dogs which I insist on rescuing but what is his secret life? The problem is that I don't really want to know. I WANT him to have those little things because I want to keep MINE. I do.

It's everything from our dog-feeding style to what we do behind that closed bathroom door. I swear that he sweeps back the shower curtain like he's making his broadway debut; this assessment is based on the number of shower curtain loops are tangled after his shower.

Don't you wonder what you don't know about your spouse? Not the big things but the little things? How they clip their toenails or whether they pick their nose as though they were digging for gold?

I don't want to know them all because I don't want him to know them all about me, I just don't. It's nice to have a few things that are mine in a relationship. No true deep, dark secrets or anything, somehow those are easier to divulge, nope it's more like how often I shave my armpits or how far up my legs I shave (no, I'm not TELLING YOU either).

Oh people, so fascinating even when they kinda belong to us…

The Stupor Bowl

Last night there was a promo for something Super Bowl related (we'll say that it was for The Voice just so I can plug the show because my friend's daughter auditioned and made it onto the show so please watch) and my husband said, "is the Super Bowl this Sunday?!". It's probably obvious to you that we're not exactly sports fans; we barely have a passing interest to be honest. There's no sport that we watch with any kind of conviction, at best we'll tune in for a playoff or two and maybe "the big game".

I informed my sports-oblivious husband that the Super Bowl was the first weekend in February as it's been for some time now to which he replied, "it keeps getting later and later, didn't it used to be on New Year's Day?" Now I'm pretty sure he was partially joking about the New Year's Day thing but I know that he meant the part about it getting later and later.

I decided to look it up, I mean I was probably wrong about it being YEARS for that first Sunday in February date and I didn't mind being proven wrong and I was just sitting there with my laptop in front of me anyway.

I searched for "Super Bowl History" and chose the Wikipedia option (I know, I know it isn't a "real" source but it can be a pretty damn good jumping off point if you're not looking for hard, cold facts). WHAT FUN!

There was a whole long explanation about how it ended up being the first Sunday in February; something about the season going from 14 to 17 games and a "bye" game, none of which really mattered to me but there it was. Hubby wasn't completely right but he also wasn't completely wrong. He was right that it kept moving further back (from mid-January to where it is now) but not the New Year's Day part.

I couldn't stop with the date change phenom though. I had to pursue the history of the half-time shows and that's where I found my bliss.

OMG! What a ridiculous bunch of extreme consumers of hype we are. Really people tone it down a bit in general.

Back in the dark ages of the late 1960s when the Super Bowl had its first kick-off the halftime show was some college marching band. Things did progress a bit to include "stars" of the day like Carol Channing and Andy Williams and interesting some jazz guys which wouldn't really fly these days. There was the incredibly corny 1976 halftime show with "Up with People" (anyone remember those guys, wow).

I vaguely remember that '76 halftime show because the cheesy factor was WAY HIGH. What were we thinking back then? Did anyone actually see "Up with People" as entertainment?

"Up with People" went on to do a few more halftime shows after their big debut with the '76 show celebrating America's bicentennial (the halftime show was actually called, "200 years and just a baby, A Tribute to America").

There were at least two times when the halftime show included some kind of audience participation card trick. Really?

It seemed that the changes came about gradually with it slowly veering away from marching bands to pop stars.

Now? Now it seems to be the venue for classic rock acts to strut their stuff in 15 minutes or less and some kind of personal challenge for the tech and production crew to see just how quickly they can mount and strike an entire stage set in the middle of a packed stadium.

The demographic for these classic rock acts is pretty clearly the middle-aged, American male category. It's funny to see so many non-US acts in the past several years, The Who, The Stones, Sting, etc. These people come from a country that doesn't even consider American football to be a sport but there they are chicken struttin' their aging asses down the 50 yard line.

This year it's Madonna (is she still American, who the hell knows) with Cirque d'Soleil which seems like the ultimate tech/production challenge more than anything else. Clearly Madonna needs to remind us she's still a viable act now that she's been effectively unseated by Gaga but will The Material Girl even be relevant to a bunch of middle-aged American guys? I doubt, I couldn't care less and I'm a middle-aged American woman.

With "talent" like that it's all the more reason to switch over and enjoy The Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet! Who doesn't want to watch adorable puppies (that are up for adoption) roll around on some AstroTurf? Thank you Animal Planet for offering a fun alternative to the self-absorbed, narcisstic stylings of a has-been '80s icon.

Storage Bin Sunday

We've lived through Black Friday and Cyber Monday to get to today…Storage Bin Sunday. Apparently the Sunday closest to January 6^th is the day everyone shops frantically for storage bins. Now this clearly makes sense for those cute young newlyweds I saw today debating over the proper storage vessel for their C'mas tree. Obviously their first married C'mas (the years they were living together don't count, I'm sure mom didn't give them their "first C'mas together" ornament until the papers were signed) as a happily married couple.

The storage bin business is a confusing one for me but it seems to be quite lucrative. It was the first time in my life I actually yearned for a Container Store to open near me (the nearest one is pretty far away, I looked it up).

Apparently, Bed, Bath and Beyond is the local stand-in for a "Container Store" and they were nearly cleaned out of anything storage bin related and more specifically C'mas storage bin related (which is a whole other storage bin subset complete with red/green bin lids) but what they did have left was fascinating. I was able to buy a storage bag for our pre-lit fake C'mas tree (sweet, right?) that was easily big enough to stash Big Pussy in for the Soprano's episode where he goes to sleep with the fishies off the Jersey coastline. No shit, this bag was HUGE! Then there was the wreath bag (holds a wreath up to 36" in diameter), it even had a lovely embroidered "Santa's Bags" logo on it. The ornament bins were my favorite, various size cardboard section thingys to individually nestle each of my cheap glass ornaments! So great.

Of course revealing that I was out storage bin shopping means that I was out shopping and that wasn't pretty. Shopping is like a hobby for me, its heart healthy (hey, I'M WALKING AREN'T I?), it gets me out of the house…it's a good time. But recently I've had to fend off the many oblivious and self-absorbed people that share my passion for shopping. I'm savvy enough to have tweaked my shopping skills to the point where I can wear a small purse messenger style and wear my keys on a lanyard around my neck leaving both hands free to quickly and efficiently flip through cheap cashmere on the clearance rack at Marshall's (I actually hate cashmere but will gift it to others…if the price is right). At least 3 people today made the broad assumption that I worked there.

The 2^nd person was my personal favorite (the 1^st isn't even worth noting). I was browsing the dog toy aisle hoping to score some new toys for the furkids. I felt someone staring at me but didn't bother to look up, I was trying to decide which no-stuffing toy I wanted (the zebra or the raccoon…the zebra ultimately won out). The staring quickly led to throat clearing. I figured I must be blocking her path to the dog toys so I politely scooched in, we should all get to share in the wealth of discount, upscale dog toys right?

That didn't do it so finally the woman let out a disgusted sigh and said, "I'm WAITING for you to help me". Really? Why? I don't even know you, are you in distress? Those were the thoughts in my head, well, those and, "you bitch, move on with yo' bad self, can't you see I'm shopping here?"

I straightened up and turned to the woman and just looked at her. She said, "well if you're not going to ask to help me I'll ask you where I can find the bedskirts." I said, "well how the hell would I know?" To which she replied, "YOU work here."
"Nope, no I don't. I don't work here."

The best part was that instead of apologizing she said, "well why do you look like you work here then?"

HUH?

I asked her what she was talking about and she pointed to my keys.

"Yes, I have keys on a lanyard around my neck. You are correct. However I don't see a single other employee wearing a giant ring of keys and about 30 frequent shopper key fobs on a lanyard around their neck, for that matter I know for a fact that retail employees can't be wearing a purse on duty" (but there I was with my hand little bag slung messenger style).

She still didn't apologize, she seemed to be insinuating that she was going to hail the retail police and accuse me of impersonating a retail store clerk.

I turned back to my shopping.

Two aisles away a woman and her granddaughter were fussing with some bags when I wandered by. Now I had 3 dog toys dangling off my arm and some bright blue oven mitts as well, I guess I could've been back shopping these items but doesn't that usually happen with a cart (and a Marshall's name tag on my chest)?

"Excuse me ma'am, could you help us figure out this bag?"

"Sure I can but you do know I don't WORK HERE, right?"

"YOU DON'T? Oh, oh, ummm, so sorry…but you can help us with this bag?"

"Sure, what's the problem?"

"Why is this snap here?"

"Oh that's easy, this is a hot/cold re-usable grocery bag and you can fold it up when not in use and snap it closed."

"WOW, thanks!"

(Another couple walks up…)

"Did you say that was a hot/cold grocery bag, how does it work?"

"Well, there are instructions inside but basically if you put cold food in it the food will stay cold for about 4 hours, same with hot food. It's also great to put warm towels in if you're doing a polar plunge!"

All I ask people is that you get your heads out of your butts and show a small amount of awareness of the world around you (and maybe take a lesson from a shopping maven such as myself about the easiest way to shop with both hands free). Before ASSUMING that someone who is shopping with two hands is a store employee look for a telltale nametag or some other actual identifying tag before rudely demanding they conjure up a bedskirt to meet your every whim.

Happy Storage Bin Sunday to one and all!

Tonight's count

Four forks, five knives.

MISSING! Redux…

You may recall that just a few short days ago I waxed romantic about the blogs of Serge and Monica Bielanko. I just found out that their lovely rented farmhouse in the hills of rural Pennsy was seriously destroyed in a fire just yesterday. Mercifully the whole family including the two dogs are safe. Serious tragedy was averted but it's sad just the same, they lost a lot of the physical evidence of their memories, but they still have the living, breathing evidence of those memories.
Sad, hug a loved one and be grateful for them.
Peace.

Fork you!

I swear to you my husband never uses less than two forks to eat dinner at home and that's a slow night he averages three forks per dinner but he's actually managed to go through the whole place setting of 8 forks in a given night. Just to clear things up here it's not like he's ripping through these utensils because we're tucking into a formal meal in the dining room and I've carefully laid out the knives and forks for each course…oh nooooooooooooooo, it's nothing nearly so fancy, he just manages to grab a clean fork every time he does anything approaching food.

Look if you live with anyone they'll have quirks and habits that will ultimately drive you bananas; it doesn't matter if it's your kid(s) or your spouse or a roommate they all do SOMETHING that makes you twitch. Of course that's a two way street. None of us are without fault in the eyes of others, seriously folks it's okay to look in the mirror and acknowledge that sometimes you do annoying shit but it's YOUR annoying shit and I'm not talking about MY annoying shit here…I'm talking about HIS annoying shit.

Let me state up front that I love my husband. I do. There are many reasons to love the man. He's kind-hearted, he loves our nearly unlovable dogs, he's sweet (to me anyway), he's handsome (he has all his hair at 47!), he's an all-around good guy (he even keeps his car clean…I do NOT keep my car clean, which I know is an annoying habit of mine).

Now that I've put the disclaimer out there though there's those OTHER THINGS that drive me batshit crazy. Most of those things revolve around food. Many of them are specific to dinner (but it does bleed into breakfast, lunch and snacks).

The forks, oh the forks.

Here's the thing, he'll grab a fork to taste something then set it aside, inevitably he's got to heat something "extra" in the microwave and that will involve tossing in some butter (actually some "I can't believe it's not butter") or olive oil…and stirring with a FORK…a different fork from the previous fork. We usually each make a plate of food on the kitchen counter then eat at the kitchen island a few feet away, sure 'nuff he'll dish up his plate…and grab another fork! Oh yes he will and if you've been counting that is FORK NUMBER THREE and that's how we get to three forks for an average weekday dinner.

What the hell is up with that?

There are other dinner rituals but that's for another time, for now, it's been another 3-fork-Thursday here at the ol' homestead (bless that man, I do love him).

Deconstructing C’mas

By 8AM on January 1^st I had all the C’mas decorations taken down except for the little 3-foot tall tree on the living room credenza! Pretty good, right? I had the (fake) evergreen roping, white twinkly lights and sparkly gold star garland taken down from the stair bannister. The 4-foot tall C’mas stocking was down from the end of the stairs and neatly folder. Every single decorated window was undecorated. The little snowflake thingy around the dining room chandelier was gone. The C’mas cards were folded and laid aside.

It was AWESOME.

Here’s the thing. I LOVE C’mas decorations. LOVE THEM but when I’m done with them I. AM. DONE.

When I put them up I thought everything was all sparkly and pretty and now that they’re down I can’t believe how much space they took up (really, they didn’t but whatever).

Once I cleared away the side effects of C’mas I decided to catch an extra hour or two of sleep (I really kinda hate doing that because I always have weird dreams but that’s something else altogether). In the meantime hubby got up and started his day.

When I went downstairs hubby was fighting with his new iPad2 (trying to download the user manual) as I proudly asked, “so, whaddya think?” while making an expansive hand motion around the house to indicate my early-morning hardwork. Did he notice? Nope. I pointed out that I took down all the decorations, that the stair bannister was no longer a landmine of lights and prickly garland and there was no longer a giant C’mas stocking to trip over at the foot of the stairs. The windows were freely letting in the bright daylight unhindered by little dollar store snowflakes. “Huh, are ya gonna vacuum today?”

Oh well, I probably should vacuum today, too.

Ahh but no vacuuming, that thought was replaced by cleaning out BOTH fridges and the liquor cabinet! Yeehaaaaaa!!!!

Buh-bye outdated ranch dressing and curry sauce, out-with-the-trash rum that’s been lingering for 6+ years and cherry pucker that’s been there for who-knows-how-long (who bought this and WHY?)

Once hubby was off to work down came the little 3-ft tree and all the trimmings and up everything went back into the wasteland known as our attic.

Yup, vacuuming took a backseat to a true New Year’s purge and how I love it!

MISSING!

What I’m missing. What I’m missing is honesty, humor, whimsy. Well, I didn’t think that was the case until I bounced over to read the blog of an acquaintance and his wife. These two were actually brave enough to post their e-mail romance as part of their blog and boy is it honest. Mrs. Blogger chronicled the whole crazy, romantic, and sexy courtship (http://thegirlwho.net/mormon-to-married-in-manhattan/2009/10/13/chapter-index.html).

Mr. Blogger (http://thegirlwho.net/thunder-pie/) has, with honesty and humor, chronicled his launch into husbandhood and parenthood. He’s a rocker by trade and his lyrics are classic and anthemic, his blog is the prose version and just as enjoyable to read as his music is to hear.

I hesitate to be all that revealing in a blog. I’m actually afraid someone will READ IT and then what? What if they know its ME? What if I hurt someone’s feelings or reveal something about them or ME that maybe shouldn’t be out there on the internet?

All I know is that when I start reading those blogs I feel like I’m engulfed in a real page-turner. I’m transported to where they are in every way, I’m physically sitting next to them be it in the car with the kids or ‘round the bar in their funky old farmhouse in central Pennsy; I’m with them emotionally, decking the halls or processing the wacky things that kids tend to say; dare I say I’m even looking with love through their eyes at each other; it’s a real talent that can take someone there.

Their C’mas blogs this year were better than any Lifetime or Hallmark movie.

Here’s the thing; I’m one of those anti-mommy people. I’m not a mommy and not all that interested in mommyness so you’d think that I’d shun Mrs. Blogger’s posts since they are very much about her life as a mom but somehow she includes enough of her life as an ADULT to make it a good read. She also doesn’t neglect her life as a passionate partner to her husband in all of this…and it isn’t without the usual spousal eye-rolling at the antics of her significant other.

Maybe their passion for each other and their life together is the fuel for their words; maybe their words were waiting there all along for an outlet…all I know is that they are more than worth a read. And Mr. Blogger’s band is more than worth a listen…Marah (http://www.marah-usa.com/).

Anyway, this rambled off track because I started out berating myself on what was missing from my own words when I found myself waxing lovingly about the words that got me started on this revelation of what’s missing. I guess what I need is the confidence to just be honest and the assurance that the people in my life I might be honest about can have a sense of humor about it (or at least believe me when I tell them that I fictionalized things a bit for the sake of good story telling…HA!)

We’ll see, we’ll see…