A Lump-o-Coal Would've Been Better

My Christmas sucked big balls of mistletoe.

Seriously.

I was tired, cranky and frustrated by the time I left work three hours early on Friday clutching my box of cookies, a cardinal encrusted pitcher and a half-dead poinsettia. The office party food was, for once, great - it was catered, hot and had flavor - it was a frickin' holiday miracle. However, during the gift exchange, the phone rang. I ignored it like a well-trained deaf mute. Everyone did the same except for Larry the Low-down Lawyer - he looked at me, sqinted and said, "Did you already fix the message?" I assured him that the voicemail reflected our holiday hours "So, you're going to let the voicemail get it?" I assured him that the voicemail would be sufficient. "Did you check with everyone to make sure that was okay?" By this point, my cheeks were blood red and my eyes were crossed with the exertion of biting back words of contempt and bile-filled condolences to his lack of a spine. During this titilating telephonic inquiry I had missed the Grinch of Whoo-lawyerville in all his glory playing the Dirty Santa game by snatching a lovely piece of decorative glass from the littlest Whoo-associate. Everyone laughed at the merriment.

The phone rang.

I answered.

I picked up the phone, ripped it out of the wall and whapped every Esquire I could find upside the head with my Meridia Lucent MLX-201.

No, not really.

But, oh, that would've been the best Christmas present ever.

Sigh. I guess I will just have to settle for the unique decorative wood and iron nativity scene from Value City, the Ho Ho Ho plaque, the "screw" bracelet (your guess is as good as mine) and, my favorite, the pink shortie zip up muumuu from Harry's stepmother. She even cut all the tags off so there is no hope for riddance of the muumuu monstrosity. I'm thinking of donating it to the homeless shelter - I'm pretty sure that with some intuitive thinking and a few trees - it would certainly make a rather roomy pup tent.

I did get good presents, too. I got a nifty knitting set, two gloriously complicated puzzles, scarves from my favorite designers, two pair of Manolo Blahniks, some purses (of course) and a pairof diamond and saphirre hoop earrings (thank you, babycakes, love you lots!).

Hope ya'all had wonderful holidays and - since I'm off to the Peach Bowl again this year - Have a Happy New Year!

--Holly

Twas the Night Before the Night Before Christmas!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a granny-hermit-couch!

The stockings were hung by the chimney with string,

In hopes that Harry would fill mine with big shiny rings!

The cat was nestled all snug in my bed,

while visions of tunas danced in her furry head.

And granny in her 'kerchief and I in my hubby's tee,

Had just settled down to watch too much tv.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I pushed Harry from bed: "Go see what's the matter!"

Away to the hall he tiptoed in silence,

Tore open the door in a fit of vast violence!

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen show

Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to his wondering eye should appear,

but the UPS man, dressed in brown, my dear!

He was a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment, he must be the courier, Nick!

More rapid than eagles, his packages came,

And he whistled as he called them all by name!

"Now Macy's! Now Tiffany's! Now Neiman Marcus!

On, Coach! On Dooney! On presents with sparkles!

To the front of the porch, to the top of the pile!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

He sprang to his truck, and gave a slight nod,

And down the road he flew, like a UPS God.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,

                          "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

This is what happens when one goes to the store to get hermit-couch granny food and forgets to bring her own list: she ends up eating a cheeseball, turkey stick and doritoes for lunch.

Sigh.

I must race home before my yearly doc appt, brush my teeth, wash my feet (they will be near doc-lady's head and nose ), tend to my cat and couch hermit and rush off. Hopefully I won't have doritoes bits stuck in my teeth to which my doc will shake her head disapprovingly.

I still don't see why I need to go yearly to have my girl innards checked - my dear hubby assured me that all is well in my nether regions - oh well - I guess I am due for a second opinion - I just hope that they don't insist on blood work. I don't think that Huntington is ready to see the likes of me, in a paper gown running down third avenue!

ON a side note - why the heck does Doritoes feel the need to "improve" upon their packaging and flavor on what seems like a weekly basis? These "new and improved" ones are so strong that I'm a bit glad that today is a gyno appt and not a dentist visit!

Wish me luck with the sadist doctor!

:)

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear...

After my last entry - things improved vastly on both the appetite front and the - well - other front, too. I think I was just out of practice and had developed into a bit of hermit crab myself, an occurance that is not too hard to believe since I prefer the controlled climate of the indoors rather than the "over-natured" outdoors.

Needless to say, I was thrilled when my husband came home and presented me with a large turkey stick and some rather lucious cheeseballs.

Infer away, people!

:)

Sexual Liberation, Concentration and Edification

Okay - here we go.

I feel as if my psyche is pushing me to write about things in this blog that may be deemed innapropriate or a bit crude at times by some.

However, if you know me at all - you will know that this is just me, and that this is my personality and no matter how many charm schools I fail out of - it's not going to help the matter at all.

So, onward I churn.

Sex is my topic of choice today - and the complexities of it. No, my dear readers, I am not talking about navigating the pages of the Karma Sutra - nor will I utter the word "Tantric." But I will talk about the nature of our desires for the horizontal tango with our partners. I have decided that sex is a lot like food (please do not analyze me and my chunky self right now, we'll get back to that later) and that just like food, sex can either be an appetizer, a four-course meal or a full-on uncensored glutton-fest (think Thanksgiving Day and Stretch Pants). And sometimes it can just be something you get a hankering for, like a Hickory Farms cheeseball.

Also just like food, once you skip a meal, or two, or even three, your hunger can subside and you have just become "past starving and not even hungry anymore." This loss of appetite can happen when partaking of food, ahem, or anything of the sort is not on your mind as often as it would have been before. Traumatic events, long absences or mucus-disaster colds can push food and quality snuggle-time to the back of one's mind.

I think mine got lost back there, it's stuck in between a massive amount of useless Harry Potter Trivia, a mental image of Nathan Fillion's delectable derriere and the schematics to Dawson's house on Dawson's Creek.

Case in Point: My dear hubby came home last night after a hellish week in Georgia and all I could do was shun his advances. Was it that I was just not having a craving for a cheeseball at the time? Was it the fact that my legs have been neglected for two weeks now so much so that if I were to appear in public the Boy Scoutswould attempt to chop down my legs and sell them as Christmas trees? Or was it the simple fact that there was a grannyhermitcouch within earshot of our first floor bedroom?

I still don't know.

But I'll make it up to him.

Now, where did I put my copy of "The Joy of Sex?" Oh yeah... right here... next to "The Joy of Cooking"....

Plumbing Tips from a Deranged Grape Picker

Last night, before I left to indulge in the genius of Mexican Cheese Dip, I asked my hermitcouch granny if there was anything she needed at the store.

"Well... Are you going?" She looked at me with wide Bambi eyes.

"Yes." Nope, just wanted to tease you! Left water in your bowl and some bread on the counter! BYE!

"Well... Are you sure?" Bambi-crab shifted in her shell.

"Yes." Must resist urge to use sarcasm which is oft' interpreted by the elderly as literal and thus producing confusion not seen since the War of the Worlds broadcast of days gone by.

"Okay, well, I could use some ..." Sixteen items and twenty minutes later, I was running late for dinner but I had made a little invalid happy by promising to pick out a glorious array of grapes for her snacking enjoyment.

Later, after my shopping trip was over and I had regretfully returned her VISA (my precious) we sat down to a snack of low fat vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. We cackled and commented on the second-to-last episode of Martha's "Apprentice" and after assuring her that it was perfectly fine that she didn't help me fold my unmentionables ( um - no thanks) she nestled into her couch-bed-hermit-shell and I went upstairs to my big empty bed.

It's nice having her there - for what little inconveniences it may cause (which are few and far between) I sleep better knowing she's one floor down should I need her.

The funniest thing happened this morning. Her toilet broke and just kept running. The inside arm thing (why didn't I become a plumber? I'm so darn knowledgeable) kept getting stuck on the inside pipe workings - so I messed with it and just told her to let it run - no biggie. She apologized to me and looked so horror-stricken - like she had accidentally flushed my cat down the loo (which, for reasons left unsaid, I wouldn't be all that mad about) instead of recognizing the fact that the guy who built my house took extreme measures to ensure shoddy workmanship.

I was still laughing when I left for work this morning.

Ohhh - that little grannyhermitcrab! What will she come up with next?!

                                  

You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry...

 

                  

Last night at 10pm I flopped on to my pink flannel Nautica sheets, removed my tasteful mauve toenail polish and slapped on a coat of lime green "Piggie Paint."  Now, with my green toes, I look like the passive agressive version of the Incredible Hulk.

Sigh.

Pinkie Pie Ponies and the Pretty Pretty Picklemeiser

My weekend in Richmond was too fun! The above pictures are one that I conveniently stole from my bestest buds' blog on myspace! She takes such good pics that I couldn't help but swipe 'em!

We left Friday night and drove the six hours from Huntington, WV to Richmond VA. I only slept for about the last hour and if you know me - that's good! I usually get in a car and develop an instant sleep apnea - the wheels roll and my eyes close! We got in at around 1AM. Instead of going to bed, we sat up and exchanged gifts. I got a "Beaut" - a Koala wrapped (strangled) with green tinsel among other wonderful things and Harry got a talking Stewie (suffering from an acute case of laryngitis) and some, ahem, love cuffs.

We had to immediately clean up the wrapping paper and the ribbons out of the floor. When I asked "why?" Summer said pointedly "Gillianwilleatthem." I was about to refute her statement, I was a little put off - like Gillian was some sort of animal! - when I noticed a small book about a puppy - that was half eaten. I kept my big mouth shut.

The next morning we helped Summer prepare for the party. I picked up Gillian's toys. She pulled them back out. She would cackle as I would put a plastic hot dog, an oversized Lego and a small Weeble-ish doll into a bin. "No - no!" And she'd pull them all back out!

Bully! :)

We're busy cleaning up the pile of Saltine's that were found under the ottoman when we hear the fridge door open. Looking over, we see Gillian sitting on the bottom shelf - eating a pickle!

I was nominated to bathe the little picklemeiser - so she took me upstairs, stripped down and hopped in the tub. She took great pride in splashing me. It would be my second bath of the day. "Hey, Gillian - where's the 'S'? Can you find the 'S'?" My little genius of a two year old niece swooped up the letter and showed it to me. She's just advancing so fast, it takes my breath away. I just miss her so much! I don't think that anyone realizes how hard it is to be so far away from a tiny creature that you can't claim as your own but would if you were given the chance! Okay - so I'm a slightly possessive aunt, but darnit! I will be the favorite aunt! "Do you wanna pony, Gillian? Do you? Harry - we need a pony - STAT!"

:)

 

We had a great time - I so hated to leave on Sunday - but we had no choice - we both had to work today... Darn jobs - they always get in the way!

:)

 

Back Among the Land of the Living...

 

The plague has left me more or less intact.

I counted my fingers, just to relax.

There was a time when the walls seem to dance

a feverish tango, a queer circumstance

to behold while in bed in a dayquil-induced trance.

I feel so much better, my head's not a fog

nor is it spinning (not that that's wrong)

but it seems quite normal, more or less,

not that that's better, it's still quite a mess

in there in my head where my synapses stress.

For a few days, it was still touch and go,

me and my fever, we had quite a row.

My nose did revolt and my tummy did rumble,

And my eyes did cross and my feet did tumble,

then all was calm, cool collected, very humbled.

So now I come to you, my dear blog readers,

To let you know "I'm alive" - not defeated!

It'll take more than a cold to drown me in snot,

and make my life harder then when it is not,

and lead me to victory against the phlegm rot!

 

Okay - so I'm not Shel Silverstein - but sometimes you just gotta rhyme!

By the way - did ya'all know that if you put a link to your AOL JOURNAL on your AOL PROFILE that AOL WILL THEN DELETE YOUR PROFILE?

Nether did I.... until I was deleted for "inappropriate content." Heh. I'm "inappropriate." Heh. And I have the email to prove it.

Reasons Why....

Here are two very good reasons for me to get better, and fast!  I'm supposed to leave tomorrow to go see 'em in Richmond.  I miss them both so much! 

The Plague! The Plague!

Alright.

I have tried to enter this damn entry three times and AOL keeps deleting it. Now, on top of being drippy, sick and a mouth-breather for an unspecified period of time in the near future I have to call in sick to two jobs and pray that my doctor will be able to fit me in at some point today.  If not, I go in tomorrow at three. 

I hate going to the doctor.  She's nice and all - but it just seems like they always have an excuse to want to stick things in you.   Like some PHd sadist.

I'm off to attempt to sleep sitting up.  Which sucks, too because if I lie down - I will suffocate on my own drool  (oooh pleasant) and I hate to sit propped up.

I need some drugs.  If anyone has any extra Z-packs or Emoxicillian - send 'em my way!

 

Thought Balloons

More tidbits from the life of Hollyk:

1. I have decided, after much soul-serching and Graduate-catalog searching - that I'm destined to be a sub-par receptionist for the rest of my life. It's humiliating, it's degrading, it's my life.

2. Harry took his laundry to his granmother's house on Sunday night, around midnight. "Just do a couple of pairs of pants for me, and don't worry about the rest" he said as he gestured to the Polo and Abercrombie encrusted pile of garments in the kitchen floor. She heard "Please work your tiny fingers to the bone doing all this laundry - tonight. Now." She loves doing his laundry - it makes her feel useful. So, she happily sorted, washed, and ironed his clothes (he had to beg her to stop ironing his boxers).

She tripped.

She fell.

She fractured her shoulder.

She ended up in the hospital.

Again.

Now she is our own little personal couch hermit.

We're just glad she's okay! My sis said it best when she said "I think she just doesn't want ya'all to leave town! 'Take that!' and then she throws her self on the floor."!

Summer's funny.

3. To boot it all - I'm sick. I don't know how I picked up the crud - but I blame those inconsiderate people who come to work while sick just to infect us all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get a box of tissues out of the office closet...

4. Told my mother I was seeking graduate admissions to contine my Criminal Justice education in a Counseling field to help victims of crime after a violent act has occured. She freaked out. Literally.

"What if you told someone's girlfriend to break up with them and then that man comes and rapes and kills you!!! Huh?! What then?"

"Mom, that could've happened when I told people what coat to buy their husband. People are nuts everywhere."

"You'll get hurt."

"Yeah, 'cuz I'm so tiny and non-intimidating with my tiny self."

"Here," she says, thrusting a pamphlet at me. "Here, it's Interior Design at the community college."

Makes me feel like a made to order Happy Meal - would you like fries with that?

5. We put up the Christmas tree the other night. Other than the fact that the bottom half was strung with enough lights to sear one's corneas out (It's a hand-me-down tree from Meme - she could only reach the bottom half to add more lights) - it turned out pretty cute. At midnight we turned out the lights, left the tree on and watched "A Mickey's Christmas Carol." Harry insisted that I sit on his lap where I was properly cuddled like the baby I am.

6. I finally found something for Harry for Christmas. I hope it comes in this week! AND I hope he likes it - I'm no longer a bad wife!

7. Yesterday, part of my job duties included cleaning up after a meeting of partners. They left food everywhere, empty cans and napkins! And they didn't even leave me a tip! The nerve!

8. Woke up to find my right eye swollen and bumpy - figure that either Harry smacked me a good one while I slept, or that the drug cocktail I had before dinner had some consequences...

9. Craved oranges for two months, bought some, went to Columbus, 'rents stole 'em, bought some more, taste like crap. Geez.....

10. Have been burping and vurping up Crunch Berries all day. Think it's time to switch to Rice Krispies.

 

So, on this chilly day, those are my tidbits - oh - and before I forget - I got ANOTHER IM from the "how big are your boobies" guy - only this time - he wanted to talk about him. All 11.5 " of him. It's amazing how men look at centimeters and see inches.

I have to share a story with ya'all that was told to me by a friend of mine last night.  Her little boy (first grade) wanted to know if "bloody" was a curse word.  Apparently he had heard Ron say it in the Harry Potter movies and was curious to know if it's true meaning was "bad." 

They assured him it was not a "bad" word, it was more like saying "darn" or "shoot."

He smiled,"Okay, then!  Bloody hell!"

ahahahahahah!

Some kids are just too cute! And the rest, well, that's why they make those little child leash things... now... if only they would make muzzles, too....

kidding kidding! No hate mail please!  I really don't think kids should be muzzled, but, c'mon, it's the 21st century and a gag wouldn't hurt them every now and then!  aahahahahah!