Lo, How the Eggnog Spiketh
Actually, I suppose that's not really the greatest grammatical construction, but it struck me as amusing at 10:15 pm on a Wednesday.
Color me shocked that I haven't posted anything since the end of October; apparently I was abducted by aliens and had my memory voided (memory, not whatever else you were thinking, MEMORY). What has occurred since? Well, Bean was a bumblebee for Hallowe'en, and a mighty pissed off one, too. No actually Belushi-esque "buzz buzz buzz" but she looked it aplenty. Unfortunately, she also started the three week Family Plague that night, so we didn't technically go out for Hallowe'en. Still, the leftover Reese's Peanut Butter Cups were a delightful treat to find every time I went to the freezer.
Had a good Thanksgiving with a friend in from Vancouver, relatively recently made pregnant; we hit the maternity stores and I was able to impart my vast stores of knowledge about weight gain and the fact that you just want to live in sweat pants at some point. Dinner for a grand total of eight adults, two toddlers...easy peasy. At least compared to last year's Titanic effort...y'all have heard the stories, they don't bear repeating.
Fetched up at a week and a half before Christmas, smug and nauseating in my completion of all present obtaining, card dispensing and See's candy pushing (fundraiser for Bean's preschool). I really had no idea that I had that much shameless shilling ability in me. The tree looks beautiful; I am a fascist about having white lights and bows of the year's "theme colors" (hey, Martha's in the pen, someone's gotta pick up the slack), but Gene gets the props for a) sussing the most perfectly shaped tree we've ever had and b) McGyvering an excellent though faintly ghetto solution to the age-old problem of getting the damn thing upright and stable. I freely admit to standing in the hallway at night, squinting ever so slightly to make the lights shimmy, quietly chuffed at our grown-up looking living room.
It's possible I have a problem.
Pralines are made for teachers and therapists. I have only scarfed one, which I think shows admirable restraint. Or possibly the realization I have a dental appointment tomorrow, the everlasting joy. Annual holiday bash on Saturday, get to use BOTH punch bowls, far too excited about this prospect. Family starts pouring in on the night of the 22nd, plans for New Year's include popcorn and champagne in our pajamas, I think. I even managed to track down probably the last damn pair of size 7 Ugg boots for my sister (in sand, mind you). Granted, that was a request on her part and not some grand surprise that would earn me Sister of the Year status, but honestly, if you had seen Nordstrom's, you understand the feat.
Bought Anthony Bourdain's book Kitchen Confidential and looked like a crazy person sitting in the atrium of the mall, trying not to snort coffee. I think he's officially my new hero: he's an absolute punk-ass bitch , but he cooks sarcastically and has a sort of bad boy appeal. In an upscale, New York executive chef kind of way. Anyway, if you like to read and/or eat and have a slightly offbeat sense of humor, I can highly recommend this. Be forewarned, however: he tells you why you shouldn't order fish on Mondays and NEVER eat mussels unless you've seen their lair of repose or are on intimate terms with the chef.
Last, but certainly not least, I have to bow and scrape before the new parents of triplets (yay Oiens) and their soon-to-be utterly stunned two year old son. I will never complain about one child again. Check out Dad's blog for some amazingly adorable pictures.
by at December 15, 2004 10:32 PM