i wonder what christmas will bring me this year?

there's quite a bit going on in my life right now, so rather than talk about what christmas will be like for us this year (ie. lots of medical bills and a husband recovering from brain surgery), i'll stick to the happy stuff.

*lots of christmas music on the radio - oh boy, do i love christmas music. it's always so cheerful and it never fails to get me in the spirit. i like the traditional carols, but i'm also a fan of some more recent tunes...and not so recent tunes like run dmc's 'christmas in hollis.' i LOVE that song. anyway, there's a radio station here that has been playing christmas music since october. i was a little surprised to hear 'white christmas' on my way home from work one crisp fall evening, but i couldn't pull myself away from it. i tried super-duper hard not to listen to christmas music before thanksgiving, but it was a bit hard for me. thankfully, we're almost into december and now i don't have to make excuses and i'm very content!

*lots of food - seriously, what is christmas without an overabundance of food? has anyone ever been to a christmas dinner where there's been a food shortage? i love christmas because i can eat what i want, when i want, as much as i want, and no one says a word! half the time i'm not even hungry. it's just that a piece of pumpkin pie loaded with cool whip at 9:30am sounds good, that's all. anyone want to argue with that?

*lots of gifts for my girls - this year, i discovered the joy and savings of black friday. i have never shopped on black friday and didn't plan to this year either. but, after perusing the ads in the toys-r-us circular, i couldn't resist. there were so many things on sale that my kids had been asking for. and after adding up the total savings from my early shopping spree, there was no way i could pass it up. i second guessed myself when my alarm went off at 3:30am, but boy was i happy by 6:00am. i had already made my trip to toys-r-us and was back in my warm, comfy bed with visions of dora and high school musical dancing in my head. success!!

have a very merry christmas everyone!

I Wonder What Christmas Will Bring?

• George Bailey, a character with whom I always sympathized. My dad once told me, when I was about 12 years old, that I, like George, was also "born older." I just know I, too, thrilled at the sight of that huge piece of luggage.
• Ralphie Parker, and the Bumpus's dogs, and that lamp - 24 hours on one special day on TNT, and don't we all watch it at least once?
• The island of misfit toys, and the elf who wanted to be a dentist - a fact I totally accepted as a kid, and which I now find somewhat random and strange.
• The poor little Christmas tree that Charlie Brown brings home.
• The heart that grew so big it cracked the magnifying glass, and the poor little dog who fell right over because of those antlers tied onto his poor little head.
• Rudolph, and claymation Santa, and that horrible nails on a chalkboard sound that his nose makes in the blizzard.
• Ebeneezer Scrooge, be he Mickey, Muppet, or regular old grumpy human.
• The Nutcracker, which I vow I will see one of these days.
• The poor burglars who get irons in the face and tacks in the feet and tar all over them, while Macaulay Caulkin connives and watches old gangster movies.

I Wonder What the Holidays Bring?

The Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's holiday triumvirate is my favorite time of year. I love the eating, the traveling, the finding of the perfect gift, and the starting over. For me, the holidays always bring excitement and childlike wonder. There's no telling what Santa Claus or Superman will leave under the tree for me, but there are many things that the holidays are always guaranteed to bring.

The movie Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Christmas carols playing in the background while Superman and I decorate the Christmas tree (and "discuss" whether the lights should be white or colored). Holiday office parties that are sure to embarrass at least one person and are usually attended halfheartedly (but at least there is usually food! And a bar! And maybe Christmas bonuses?). Christmas cookies! The anticipation of Christmas morning being so overwhelming that I can't sleep past 5 a.m. Receiving holiday cards from friends and family (and my hand hurting from addressing holiday cards). Wondercat will chew on the Christmas tree when he thinks we are not paying attention -- the dead giveaway will be the crackling sound of artificial tree clamped between his teeth. Unpredictable weather. Candy canes. The Santa tracker. Black Friday, Cyber Monday and the spending of way too much money. Squeals of delight when the gift they've been wanting most is finally opened. Hugs (there are always a lot of hugs during the holidays). The food (there is always so much darn food and candy(!) during the holidays) and the inevitable weight gain. Hot chocolate (with candy canes!). Traditions come alive again. Superman will attempt to reclaim his "Best Gift Giver" award again. Reporters reporting live from the airports to talk about the crazy holiday travels and about how busy the airports will be/are. Stockings will be hung with care. Santas will be in malls all over the country so that children can whisper their lists to him (or get awfully funny pictures with him that often entail crying). Magic will be in the air.

I think what I love most of all is the spirit that surrounds the holidays. It is as if the world is overtaken by a joyfulness that can't be shaken until the spell is broken by the clock striking midnight on New Year's Eve. Ah, the holidays.

I Wonder What Christmas Will Bring?

**I wrote this post in my head last night while I was drifting off to sleep, so technically it counts as a post from yesterday. Hence the date/time stamp.**

Let me start out by noting that I am not one of the people for whom Christmas begins the day after Halloween. I make a point of complaining vociferously the moment I see the first Christmas commercials and decorations because I think stores start the “holiday rush” ridiculously early, and every year it gets earlier. I grew up in a family that didn’t look for a tree until the first weekend of December and didn’t put it up until the second weekend. So I’m apologizing to myself for surrendering to this week’s wonder, I guess.

Every year, The Boy and I will start asking each other this question on or around December first: “Are we doing Christmas this year?” This is not to imply that we choose whether or not to celebrate the season or send cards or decorate. This question is shorthand for “Are we going to exchange gifts with each other this year?” To some people it might be blasphemous to admit, but we don’t plan on getting each other Christmas presents every year, without fail, surprises and secrets and stealth. The past few years we’ve always had some big purchase or event that stood in for Christmas: moving across the continent, buying our first home, a trip back East followed by a trip to Prague. But right now, there’s not too much happening in our lives that would prohibit us from doing at least a little something.

The last time we truly “did Christmas,” we set crazy-low limits on our spending, just to see how creative-yet-wonderful our gifts to each other could be. I highly recommend it, especially if nothing perfect has already come to mind for a loved one. It really does seem that the more restrictions on your gifting options, the cooler the gift ends up being.

We asked each other (well, I asked him) The Question on Sunday. For the record, folks, that was November 25. A week early … what’s become of me?!? Anyway, we never did set upon an answer, as we were distracted by the tangential conversation: “Are we going to have a holiday party?” This was asked because on January 2, we bought our Christmas cards and just happened to also make it home with cute little seasonal party invitations. (To use or not to use, that is the question; whether ‘tis nobler in the home to suffer the ‘nog and preparation of an outrageous party, or to take dip to another’s house, and by not hosting, save them?) This tangent is obviously a seductive one; sorry.

So with The Question still not answered, I wonder what will happen in a mere month? Will there be mysterious packages under our tree to each other from each other? And if so, did we make any rules about them?

Maybe I’ll let you decide, dear readers. What do you think? I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with an awesome present … should there be a theme? Price restrictions? The only thing I won’t allow is the homemade rule. Neither of us is crafty, so that would just be cruel. Suggest away! And happy shopping for your own favorite people.

I Wonder What We Are Thankful For

Due to the Thanksgiving holiday, the Wonder Women have taken the week off from individual entries. Instead, as a tribute to the holiday that asks us to give thanks, we've made a list of the things we are thankful for. As you will see, we truly are a very lucky group of girls.

g love
-Short work weeks
-Long weekends
-My tiny 4 ounce son
-My husband, Darlin'
-My boyfriend, John Corbett (Chris in the Morning from Northern Exposure, and Aiden from SATC)
-Speaking of SATC, the upcoming movie, which I await with bated breath
-My friend MSO Rin, who introduced me to SATC by showing me the series finale (I was late in the game) - and for lots of other things that she knows
-My friend Wicked M, for starting a blog that got us all connected again - and for being a non-stop cheerleader to everyone she knows
-My friend SJ, for offering of herself and her "shoulder", and being a wonderful source of comfort and positivity
-My stupid job, that I love to dawg but must (grumblingly, reluctantly) acknowledge has brought wonderful things to my life
-Schmuppy Dog and Schmitty Cat
-My family, my friends, my reliable car, my tiny house, and Cadbury's English Toffee filled chocolate
-And finally (another thing I have to thank Wicked M for introducing me to) - icanhascheezburger.com

MSO Rin
*pretty, fluffy snow
*the way my fat cat J walks across my pillow/hair to wake me up on the weekends
*hot coffee & a chocolate-chip-ginger cookie (the breakfast of champions)
*my favorite pair of jeans (they fit again … thanks, gym membership)
*a hilarious voicemail from my then-three-year-old nephew that I have kept for almost a year and listen to once a month
*really liking my job most of the time
*long phone dates with my best girls
*stageXing’s laugh
*movie popcorn and contraband mini Reece’s Cups
*a close-knit family
*seeing good theatre
*getting a fresh new magazine in the mail
… and, of course,
*being a WonderWoman!

super jane
my list could be a million and a half entries long. i am one lucky (and very thankful) gal. i have been blessed in incredible ways and God always amazes me at how he pulls me through even the toughest of times. to save you all from reading 28 pages of 'thankings,' i'll keep it to a few. and even though they may be very general, i'm still thankful for them all the same!
-my babies and super jas
-a beyond loving, supportive, and hilarious family!
-the fact that i have a roof over my head and a job that is flexible and pays the bills
-anthony lapaglia

Wicked M
*My thoughtful husband
*Laughter coupled with snorting
*Good, true friends
*My amazing family
*My husband's recovered health
*Instant messaging that allows me to keep in touch with friends and to be entertained during my work day
*Sly the Wonder Cat, his chubby belly and his silent meows
*Treadmills
*Seeing the Eiffel Tower up close and in person
*Escapism through television
*My job that allows me to earn a good living, blog during the day, and feel like I'm making a difference in the world.
*My husband having found the job of his dreams
*comfy lounge pants
*My ability to see the joy even through the pain

There you have it. Now, tell us what you are thankful for this year.

an average auto.

i'm not much into cars, so i'm not sure exactly what brand i would be. i've driven my car for over 2 years now and i still can't remember the model of it. i know it's a toyota, but that's about all. it's embarrassing, but what can i do? i'm just not into cars. so rather than describe the make and model of the car i would be, i'm simply going to describe it's features. after reading my description, please tell me which car i am. that way i'll know the answer if this topic ever arises in a party conversation. thank you in advance for saving me the embarrassment.

i am just your run-of-the-mill car. i'm not really flashy; in fact, i'm quite cheap. i watch my gas tank like a hawk and sometimes it bothers me. i'm not so much an economically wise car as much as just a cheap car. i'm a basic car. i don't have a lot of the extra bells and whistles because i'm simple and, to be frank, i just don't need them. why get a gps system when i can buy a map for a lot less? sure, i'd like to have a souped up engine, or those fancy hub caps that spin backwards while i'm sitting at a red light, but what's the point? it's just a waste of money, if you ask me.

i don't like to go fast either. i take my time getting from point 'a' to point 'b.' i never, ever hit the accelerator when the light turns green; rather, i take my time coming out of the starting blocks. sometimes, i wait so long that by the time i decide to hit the gas, the light is red again and i've missed the opportunity to advance in my journey.

i like to think that i very rarely encounter any transmission problems. i'm built to last and what you see if (usually) what you get. i have a solid infrastructure and have read many manuals on how to maintain myself - spiritually and physically. to the other road warriors i encounter along my journey, i appear to have it all together. my doors are always locked, my seatbelt is always fastened. but once i park in the garage and turn off my engine, i sometimes emit a few pillows of smoke. my engine though - the heart and soul of my frame - is firm and true.

i know i'm not a corvette or any type of sporty thing. i used to be the life of the party, but now i'm a little more subdued. steady, reliable, tried and true. just your average car, i suppose. just your average automobile.

Evolution, with Tires

In high school and early college, I was a VW bug (new model). Small. Unassuming. Kind of cute, kind of perky, but not really overbearing, or particularly sexy. Nothing superlative, in a good or bad way. Not the best or the worst, safest or least safe, cutest or ugliest. People tended to like me, and smile when I toodled by, a colorful flower in my dashboard vase.

In later college and just after, I thought I was a BMW convertible. Hot. Zippy. Wanted. I was a senior. I was thinner and more toned than I'd ever been (or have been since). I got parts in plays. I had a boyfriend with a hot English accent. I was traveling the world. I was the newest, hottest, most beautifully engineered thing. People ate my dust as I zoomed by impertinently. If you can't keep up, oldies, then stay off the Autobahn.

In the latter years of dating this English boy, who was not a good person, I was a broken down rotting old jalopy. I was put up on blocks, rusting in the front yard, with pieces falling off and no one to restore me. Nobody wanted me then. I was a wreck, ready for the salvage yard, headlights broken and blank from shame.

After that lonely foray into the car graveyard, I became a new 4WD pickup truck. Tough. Could roll over anything. Don't need no prissy automatic transmission. Don't need no lazy daisy automatic locks. Wanted to be the bare essentials, and to broadcast a cowboy loner, at-one-with-open-land, no-roads-necessary self-reliance. *This is the only one of my car identities that I ended up purchasing.*

And now? Now. I'm a minivan. I'm not even a cavalier SUV, saying To hell with global warming, my life is too busy and complex to deal with that crap, give me a car that's functional and also cool. Nope. Not a station wagon, which to my generation has a sort of boho chic air about it, like I'm so un-hip, I'm hip. I'm a big old freaking minivan, rumbling around, just lame enough to be lame. Built to carry children around. Manifestly not broadcasting youthful exuberance or self-reliance or sexiness or speed. Meant for integrated groups. But. Comforting. Roomy. Good for long trips. Lots of room, lots of configuration options with my interior space, incredibly useful, reliable, all things to all people. Able to become somebody's home, if they need it.

Yeah, I'm a minivan. I imagine I will continue as a minivan until retirement. And then, baby, I'm one of a pair of Harley Davidsons, riding the open road with abandon, wind whipped, free and fast and shined up. Sexy in a totally different way, in a Piss Off kind of way, in a tough-old-bird but still a rebel kind of way. Unfettered. Dangerous. Devil may care.

But with my grandkids' names stitched into my saddlebags.

Apologies

I'm taking a pass on this week's topic for several reasons. The biggest reason is because I've never had a dream car and I'm not sure what kind of car I would be if I had the chance to transform. I'd like to think I'm some sort of a sports car, but I'm probably something boring and reliable like a station wagon. Meh.

My brain is cloudy and I'm just too tired and jet lagged to process a clear entry for today. My apologies. I'm sure I will return the week after Thanksgiving renewed and ready to be witty and to write something intelligent. For now, my apologies.

Vroom-Vroom!

When I was in high school, I was invited to join a sorority. (Yes, yes, I know. It’s the South, y’all. A leftover from the debutante balls/coming-out presentations of yesteryear. Fiddle-dee-dee!) Anyway, I’ll never forget the junior who came to pick me up for the first in a series of weekend adventures/parties/dances/sleepovers. L. was a cheerleader, on Student Council, had adorable kinky-curly blonde hair, went out with the cutest soccer player at the private school across town, and drove what instantly became my dream car: a red Jeep Cherokee.

Long story short, my mom wouldn’t let me join that sorority—and I would have, too (but now I’m glad I didn’t b/c I know what a real sorority is about, and it’s not having your name announced by one of your former teachers in front of some antebellum mansion while you stand there smiling insipidly while wearing whatever heavier-than-a-gorilla, hotter-than-Hades sequined dress you could borrow from your “big sis”), partly because of L. and her awesomeness and the awesomeness of her red Jeep Cherokee. Which I fell in love with from the moment she let me sit up front and the other girls in the caravan (who were either juniors or seniors) laughed at my jokes.

So last week, when my friend A. went out of town and asked me to take her to the airport and hang onto her car while she was gone, I was beside myself with glee. Why? She drives it: a boxy, gas-slurping, four-door Jeep Cherokee Sport. And it’s red. It should belong to me. God bless you, A. I’ve never felt taller … or more wee and cute, all at the same time.

And while I was bouncing around town in A.’s Jeep (and I do mean “bounce,” because of all the things my dream car has, superior shock absorption isn’t one of them), I started thinking: if I were a car, I wonder what kind of car I’d be. Would I be this, my holdover love from age 15, a car almost that age itself, looking and feeling like a set of cherry-colored boxes with wheels?

Or would I be my car, one I love with all my heart but was chosen for me? (Thanks Mom & Dad! Buying your old car from you for $1 was the best birthday present ever! I’m grateful almost every day.) It’s a four-door that looks lilac to me but gray to everyone else—except when it looks silver. I used to think it was invisible b/c I could zoom along at 78 mph on I-65 when the speed limit was 65 mph and never get pulled over. I later learned that I wasn’t invisible, just lucky, and that luck like that runs out. My car has seen me through a dozen moves (most of them inter-state), a boy or two, and more drive-thru windows than I care to mention. It has made me very brand loyal, very vocal about the price of gas, and very, very happy. It has kept me safe and taken me to concerts, on camping trips, to weddings, and even to a prom.

I have to say that despite being able to drive my dream car and having it be just as fantastic as I’d hoped it would be, I think that if I were a car, I’d still have to be my car. I adore my light plum ’95 Saturn SL1 with all my heart, and get a little teary at the thought of not having her around forever. She has over 185,000 miles on her, and The Boy and I are slowly starting the discussion about when to … I can’t even say it. You know what I’m talking about.

I am my car! A cute little frugal thing that’s not the most trendy or flashy set of wheels on the block but that has tons of great memories (and, admittedly, a few dings). Reliable and easy to get to know ... with a normal-sized trunk.

Gasp

I Didn't Vote.

This is bad.

I always vote. Except sometimes, when you don't get t.v. stations, or the local paper, or work in the local area, you don't realize that it's voting day. Until 10pm on voting day, when you catch up on Wonder Women and turn with a furrowed brow to your political science student husband and say - Honey? Was there an election today?

This is inexcusable. Here are my excuses.

(1) I work an hour from the county where I live/am registered to vote. It be hard to get to the booths, mon.

(2) Um, can I still use first trimester of pregnancy as an excuse? I'm only a week out of it. What good was 3 months of puking if I can't get out of some social responsibilities?

(3) Due to aforementioned lack of t.v., local paper, etc., I know nothing about any candidates or propositions. I always feel guiltier voting sans information than I do about skipping altogether. Had I used my 29 year old brain that has been eligible to vote for 11 years, I would have realized one was coming up and boned up on stuff. But, um, see number 2.

(4) I voted last year. The year before. I vote all the time! I promise! Don't we get to drop our lowest quiz grade in this class?

So, I am the poster child for bad, bad American. But my sister is worse. She doesn't vote ever, I think largely to irritate me. She's very proud of her complete ignorance of the electoral process and all issues, candidates, propositions, etc. She loooves to drive me crazy with this. I looove to point out how lucky we are to live here and not Myanmar, or North Korea, and she goes Myanmar? Is that a chocolate bar?

Like how I turned this post from chastising myself for not voting to making fun of my sister? Now I look a lot better. Cool.

Peace and socially responsible electoral love to everybody who voted, and for those of us who didn't - may little elves visit you and tweak your nose and step on your feet and pinch you mercilessly until you agree never to do it again. - G

Send get-well-soon thoughts to super jane's family and travel-safely thoughts to Wicked M. THANK YOU!

Lucky To Be An American

I used to be one of those people who didn't vote. I know, I know. It's an awful thing to admit. As I get older and become more informed (and then more ticked off), I'm more motivated to do something to assert some change. I want to make my voice heard.

I hate the political season with every inch of my being simply because I hate the false rhetoric and macho bravado that the candidates employ. Most of the time I feel like they are more like slimy lawyers saying the same thing two hundred different ways to twist the real message than they are actual politicians saying things to affect real change. Rarely does a politician have a novel idea or platform and I greatly dislike that we so fear change that we actually encourage it. We continue to vote for the "safe" candidate or the candidate most neutral in their stance.

I think, if nothing else, that this current President's term(s) have taught us that the status quo is not always the way to go. The candidate with the most swagger isn't necessarily the best candidate. The candidate that is white and/or male isn't always the best choice. Thank goodness that in this election season we at least have a choice! There are quite a few options available to us and it is up to us to really listen to what the candidates are saying, to what they truly believe in, and what they truly stand for.

I do believe that you can affect change at every level. I may not be as informed about the local elections as I am about the current national election turmoil that is going, but I've done some research and I plan to use my voting power. Because I do care. Because I have a choice. Because I am lucky to be an American.*

Go Vote Today!

*And oh how I love to complain! Right, MSO?

Happy Election-Day Week!

I wonder how often we stop to think about how historic the next year will prove to have been. There are so many firsts that are possible with Decision ’08 … I wonder how much the fate of our nation will have changed by the end of that first Tuesday in November.

We could have:
· The first female president
· The first African-American president
· The first Mormon president
· The first “Law & Order” star to become president

I’m sure that each current candidate would bring some kind of first to the White House … I just haven’t started my personal political research yet, so the above list is a little cursory.

But even without much of a clue about where I’ll cast my vote, I can feel the groundswell of change approaching, especially since the current veep won’t be climbing into the fray. I wonder how many of us will weep with joy … how many of us will curse our candidate’s loss … how many of us won’t feel any different at all.

There are people very close to me who don’t vote and don’t ever plan to start. My view is: if you don’t vote, you can’t complain. I have, however, been guilty of uneducated voting (yes, I’ll just vote for the woman when I have nothing else to go on). I take the big primaries and the general election seriously, trying to really get to the heart of what I think someone represents and deciding whether I want to let him/her lead me and mine. But City Council for Ward 2? I’m not so much with the caring.

So anyway. Here’s my point. Vote! I don’t really care (not yet, anyway) for whom you vote, just that you do it. Exercise the thrilling right you have to be history. Because this time next year, we’ll be living it. And someday people will ask you where you were when the first ___________ president was elected … and I want you to have a good story!

i wonder why i like to hibernate.

it is funny that when faced with physical ailments or even psychological ones for that matter, all we want to do is curl up in a ball and have a little time to ourselves.

i guess i've never really thought about it before. i wonder why it is so comforting? is it some sort of primitive coping mechanism our cavegirl ancestors used long ago that has somehow passed along through time? or maybe it's an act that takes us back to our time in the womb when life was warm and grand? ah, i bet that's it!

i know we don't remember back that far, but think about it. when we feel insecure, when we feel sick, when we feel physcially or emotionally off kilter, we hide under big blankets with only our eyes peeping out. we make our bodies as tiny as possible and treat ourselves to whatever sounds good to eat - be it chocolate or chicken soup. and isn't that what we did in the womb? back in the day, we were teeny tiny, warm, content, and made our mothers eat whatever it is that we wanted at that. exact. moment. (can i get an 'amen' from the mamas out there?)

maybe it's the mom in me and the fact that i've grown 2 children in my belly. but when i feel sick or just need a little 'super jane' time, i revert back to the time my life first began when all was right with the world and attempt to capture that feeling once again.

Who Died and Made My Stomach the Boss?

Like Rin and M, I cannot deny my tendency to hibernate when unwell. I also can’t add much to their thoughtful and funny observations, so I’m going to talk about another tendency that we humans have when we’re not feeling up to snuff . . . and it has to do with food.

So, which are you? When you are physically, mentally, or spiritually unwell, do you hoof it for the pantry? Or does bad karma put you off your food and make you waste away into a swooning, pale, slender poor thing, described in 18th century whispers as suffering from “nerves” or “hysteria?” I cannot escape any kind of personal scrape without being reminded that my stomach is actually the ruler of this house. Distress reminds me that food is all, and all is food.

I have both tendencies, depending on the nature of the problem. Colds, flus, fevers, sore back, stubbed toe, chicken pox, my little finger hurts – if it’s a bodily illness that does not involve nausea, then a meal every hour and a half or so is definitely in order. PB & J, toasted. Hot chicken broth and grilled cheese. Tea and shortbread cookies. Sliced apples and cheese. Things steamy and cheesy seem to be my preference. Nourish the sick and sniffly me.

Things existential, especially affairs of the heart gone awry, leave me without an appetite. I have been known to drop twenty pounds following the demise of a relationship, and boy is that awesome when you run into the guy and his new girlfriend later. Fights with my loved ones leave me listless, all food tastes bad, and I’m put off my meals til things are made right again. On occasion I have asked Darlin’ to fight with me, please, because my pants are fitting a little tight this week and I need an appetite suppressant.

What’s your trigger? What makes you wolf down the chocolate, and what makes you push away the plate? Spill it.

Peace and tummy growling love to all of our readers (and their un/healthy relationships with food) - G