A Cautionary Christmas Tale

For Christmas this year, we decided to get our kids a kitten. We found a cute one and thought we were pretty savvy saving all this money on a free kitten. She rode home in the car so pleasantly and my children were delighted to have a new pet to go along with the big fat cat we already have and the small dog who thinks he’s a cat. But after the new kitty smell wore off, I started to do a little math on this deal:
New Cat: $0
Carpet cleaning before kitty found the litter box: $99
Spaying kitty: $150
Kitty’s first shots: $50
Declaw procedure: $100
Set of 4 leather dining room chairs and reason for declaw procedure: $356
For a grand total of $755
She’s a lovely kitty and we all adore her, but I have to say…not the smartest idea I’ve ever had.
Yet another not so bright idea…my brother came home for Christmas and along with a few friends we headed straight for the bar. Everything was going smoothly until we decided it was time for martinis and then shots of vodka. Four days later I have absolutely no recollection of certain events, my arm is bruised, my muscles are sore (from dancing I’m sure) and I woke up to the worst hangover since my legendary 21st birthday and this strange photo in my email. Got on stage with the band? New Year’s resolution number 1: Never…drink…again…

How I Spent My Sunday

So I woke up Sunday promptly at 10 a.m. and it was the normal routine of cooking shows on PBS till noon in my pajamas. I got bored during “Lidia’s Italy” when she started stuffing some tiny bird I’ve never heard of and started perusing through my husband’s Blackberry trying to decide if I wanted to visit the hell that is the local Verizon store later in the day and buy a Blackberry for myself or if I wanted to keep jimmy-rigging my only half-working LG Env 2 for a few more months. After almost giving up on that idiotic touch screen I vowed never to get, I found the link www.textsfromlastnight.com in his “notepad”. Oh happy day! It was like finding a 20 dollar bill in the pocket of last year’s winter coat. For the next 3 hours I sat on the couch scrolling through pages of these things. The site is an outstanding compilation of drunken texts people probably don’t remember sending. It’s a drug to me now…I’m addicted. Around 3 p.m. my husband had to physically remove the phone from my hands and talked me into leaving the house to do some Christmas shopping. The mall is a hateful place to be in December, by the way. I was even forewarned with a text about the “a**holes around town”, but I went anyways. A Target and Asian food run later I was back in the house in stretchy pants in front of my computer nearing page 73 out of 788 on this new beloved website. Sometimes the site takes extra long to load the next page and I crap my pants thinking they took down the site.
It’s now 10:56 p.m. on Sunday night and I’m exhausted even though I officially accomplished nothing the entire day. Verizon says I can’t get a new phone yet, Target didn’t have black Converse high-tops OR some Super Big Cupcake nonsense and the mall was useless. When you spend an entire day skimming through drunken texts (76.3% I could have easily sent myself), does that mean you’ve hit rock bottom? I did, however, make it to page 128…so…total loss? I think not.

Happy Santa Lucia Day!

This blog is dedicated to my mom and my maternal ancestors who came from Sweden. Sunday, December 13th is Santa Lucia Day. Did you remember, Mom? When my brother and I were kids, my grandma lived next door and the morning of every December 13th (until we revolted) my mom would get us up at the crack of dawn and we’d walk to my grandma’s house wearing a crown of candles. How we managed to never light our hair on fire is a mystery, but my mom would make this crown out of tin foil and…I hesitate divulging this piece of information…there is a photo of my brother and I somewhere wearing these crowns. There was a song that went with the procession to Gram’s, which I’ve successfully repressed so don’t ask me to sing it. Typically, you ate a certain type of bun this day called a Lussekatt, but in our house it was always Pillsbury cinnamon rolls and we’d carry these fancy baked goods to Grandma’s praying to God none of the neighbors saw us a. wearing fire and b. singing through an alfalpha field.
An interesting fact I found while trying to recall the reasons behind this bizarre tradition is the procession is usually headed by one girl wearing the crown of candles and then everyone follows her holding a single candle. So, Brother, kinda sounds like you got shafted seeing as how I vividly remember that ring of fire on your head too.
I also found that in Scandinavia, the younger population still carries out the tradition of “guarding oneself against being taken by Lucifer, Lord of Darkness” by having an all night party. The tradition requires you to stay awake on the night of the 12th until light arrives and saves you from Lucifer. What?! I remember no such party! I’m officially reinstating this tradition. Who’s with me?! There’s a Pillsbury cinnamon roll in it for you.
So this past Sunday, my little brother turned the big 3-0. Since I didn’t have the crown of candles picture to post, this one’s for you, Bro! Happy 30th…Yah! You get to be old now too!