Unfit Santa

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon will be there . . .   The following article offers a new perspective on jolly ole St. Nick.

8 Reasons That Santa Claus is an Unfit Family Icon

Facebook Fights

 I realize that the holidays are a stressful time for many people, but Aunt Jemima’s socks, people!   I swear if I see another couple airing their dirty laundry on facebook, I swear I’m going to go postal. Seriously, over the last month, I’ve witnessed at least five couples trash-talking each other in their statuses or wall-to-wall posts.  For the folks I don’t know well, it’s mildly entertaining, even soap-operatic.  But the better I know them, the more uncomfortable it becomes.

Most of the time, they’ll eventually overcome their nonsense and go back to posting syrupy sweet lovey-dovey comments, and all is well.  But  for some of them, I wonder how long that will last.  As a “hint” to some of those folks, my hubby and I started a fake facebook fight.  For those who know us best (and realize we keep our fights to ourselves), it would have been good for a laugh.  Alas, we did this at a time when no one seemed to be online, so it was a futile effort. 

So now I’m left to wonder whether to be the jerk who calls them out and tells them to stop acting like a bunch of adolescents,  un-friend them without explanation, or try to ignore the drama.  And NO, de-activating my facebook account is not an option.  I enjoy catching up with old friends and keeping touch with current friends.  It’s also very useful for event planning. Okay, and I confess I've gotten hooked on Farmville.   Besides, why should I punish myself for others’ misuse of the site?  

Murder and Mayhem Make For a Great Weekend!

Well, it appears I pulled it off! Despite some last minute cancellations and new attendees, the Murder Mystery Weekend was a rousing success. (If I do say so myself).  

Friday night, those of us staying the weekend gathered at a local bar/nightclub to see a comedy concert.   

Saturday, my gal pals and I went shopping for a few party supplies and got our nails done.  They even helped me get the meeting room set up and decorated before we joined our guys in the hotel's hot tub.  Then we grabbed dinner at the restaurant next door before dashing back to our rooms to get ready for the main event.

It was totally awesome watching everyone arrive, decked out in their 1980's best.  And everyone really got into playing their roles, which was a blast. I wrote it with the idea that the participants were to improvise their parts based on the information in their clues, and did they ever! High school was never this much fun for me!

I had love triangles, love children, a catfight, and practically fisticuffs. All the ladies kept getting hit on by folks that weren't really supposed to be interested in their characters--including me!  My character was, by the way, a photographer--I must've snapped a few hundred pictures. I borrowed a friend's camera, and cannot wait to see the photos.

Everyone said they had a fabulous time, and are already asking when I'll be doing the next one. It was great seeing my work come to life, better hanging with my good friends, and awesome making new friends.  But the best was knowing that everyone had a good time.

I learned a few lessons along the way, too:

1) Just write a basic draft and leave it be until the commitment deadline. Save any rewrites for the week of the event.

2) Send packs of vitamins to all attendees, so no one ends up in the hospital the week of the event (It's happened two years running).

3) Try not to be such a damn control freak and let people help out.

4) It really doesn't have to be perfect . . . really. 

Parental Tantrums

We all have our moments when we "lose it" and yell at our kids.  I had one such moment today.  Then a friend of mine posted the following article on Facebook.  I dare you to read it with a beverage in your mouth, because I guarantee you'll need a new keyboard by the time you're done.

Preventing Temper Tantrums in Parents

I Voted . . .

Now leave me the hell alone!  As anyone with more than two functioning brain cells would know, today was Election Day.  While I find watching paint dry only slightly more interesting than politics, I was more than happy to hit the polls so I could push the magic button that will remove our current governor from office. 

But even more thrilling than the end of William J. Lepetomane’s reign will be the end of those annoying political calls.  Our home phone rang no less than four times a day with someone soliciting our vote.  We have caller ID so I didn’t pick up the phone, but that just clogged up my voicemail box.  

So to all those men and women that made and/or recorded all those damn political calls, I am so happy to bid you adieu that I may call off the plague of locusts I ordered.

Or maybe not . . .

And So It Begins

My husband left the house early this morning for Las Vegas, for an annual conference.   He’s due back late Friday afternoon.  In the meantime, I have the kids all to myself.   If today were actually a day of rest, I might not have minded so much.  But Gingersnap had a game today (the football team she cheers for made it to the second round of the playoffs).  And since we were halfway to my Mom’s place (a nursing home in the suburbs of a large city), we trekked out to visit with her.  Unfortunately, it wasn't the best visit.  The kids were ill behaved, and my mom wasn't doing well.  I poured myself a stiff drink or three when I got home.  

The rest of the week should be uneventful.  This is both good and bad.  I'll have time to rest in the evenings, but that also means I won't have much to keep my mind occupied. Friday cannot get here fast enough.   Of course, my relief from single momdom will be short-lived.  Husband Fixture will be on the road again (D.C. this time) next Monday morning, returning next Friday afternoon.  This will be the state of our existence for the next four months. 

I honestly don’t know how single parents do it, because my offspring and I are ready to check into Bellvue after two weeks of Daddy being on travel.  And I know I shouldn’t complain, since he will be home on weekends, and over holidays.  But this is my blog, damn it, and I am NOT a happy camper!! 

Not only do I miss the break from the kids and the help around the house my hubby provides, I miss HIM.  I can sleep alone okay, though the temptation to allow Couch Hound into the bed will be great.   I also miss the moral support.  Yes, he’ll be available via phone/email, but getting a hug at the end of the bad day is invaluable.   

Yep, I think it's time for another drink and a horror flick.  

Love bites

 I continually find myself amazed at the lengths to which I will go to make my children happy.  Princess Gingersnap’s birthday is this Saturday, and she has requested—nay, demanded—a Twilight Eclipse -themed sleepover party.  I now face the prospect of having around ten giggly tween girls taking over my house.  Husband Fixture and the Prince of Distraction will be banished to the dungeon, where they will gorge themselves on junk food and video games while I am up to my eyelashes in makeovers and Twilight movies. 

Today alone, I spent five hours driving around to 6 different stores in search of decorations, favors, and gifts for this party.  Anyone who knows me would tell you that I hate, despise, loathe, abhor, and revile shopping.  And the only thing I disdain more than shopping is running around to several stores to do this.   Despite my best efforts to obtain the necessary accoutrements at the lowest possible prices, Husband Fixture was still displeased (as he tracked my movements via online banking). 

Tomorrow begins the process of cleaning, baking, and filling favor bags . . .  Fun, fun, fun!