Saturday, November 29, 2008

Bah, humbug!

Don't be fooled by the title of this post. I love Christmas-time, and everything that comes with it...well, almost everything. I don't like a few things, such as...

1. "Dirty Santa" parties. Well, I actually like the parties, but I do not prefer to call the game "Dirty" Santa. That adjective just makes jolly old Saint Nick sound like a fat pervert. In lieu of letting the image of a dirty old man ruin a fun gift exchange, I prefer to call it "Silly Santa" (less creepy) or simply "White Elephant."

2. Celine Dion. One aspect I dread about Christmas is hearing Celine Dion sing Christmas songs. You see, I despise her talent, so the only time I am forced to hear her is while shopping for Christmas gifts. It seems as if stores ramp up their Celine Dion playlists around the holidays. Today as I was browsing the aisles at TJ Maxx, her annoying voice was blaring through the speakers, and it reminded me of my college roommate from my freshman year. She broke out her Celine Dion - Christmas edition, like, before Halloween that year. Yikes.

3. Giant outdoor inflatable decorations. How better to ruin a front yard than to put the abominable Santa Claus out there? Don't forget the larger-than-life snow globe and super-sized Jesus and nativity scene. Classy, eh?

Do you have any scrooge-like inclinations this time of year? I tag Anna, Claire, Kellen/Becca, and Kurt to share.

Monday, November 24, 2008

A hanky? No, thanky.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned my disdain for handkerchiefs before on this blog. If not, allow me to introduce it. I mean, what is a handkerchief? Besides gross, of course.

A man I work with has the gosh-awful-loudest sneezes I've EVER heard. After startling me (which I also hate) with his ACHOOs that are audible from across the room, he proceeds to pull a handkerchief out of his pocket, to blow gross nasal contents into it and then...throw it in the trash where it belongs? Oh, no. He puts it -- that's right -- back in his pocket.

I haven't recently discovered handkerchiefs, by the way. I know plenty of people, mostly men, who carry them. But seeing this man at my office repeatedly (brace yourself as I define exactly what he is doing) blow his nose, fold his hanky, and put his own boogers and snot BACK INTO HIS POCKET is more than I can condone. People, there is something wrong here! This man is saving his own nose crap.

I researched "handkerchief" on Wikipedia (so we know it's factual information), and the website says a hanky is used for "personal hygiene purposes such as blowing one's nose." Would someone please tell me what is hygienic about pulling apart a used handkerchief (stuck together by germs from previous uses, mind you) and trying to find a new, clean spot that hasn't been sneezed on? I mean, it makes no sense! (That germ shoutout was for you, Lartosh.)

Wikipedia also says that King Richard II of England invented the handkerchief for " the lord King to wipe and clean his nose." Again I ask, what is classy -- nay, royal -- about saving a day's worth (please let it be at most a day) of nose junk?

In conclusion, I will continue to use the simple, hygienic, disposable tissue when blowing my nose. Handkerchiefs are probably better for the environment, but they aren't better for my work environment. When I blow my nose, I will put its contents where they the trash. Long live the tissue!

Monday, November 10, 2008

A fashionista gone awry

My favorite line from one of my favorite movies goes like this: "She appeared to be clinically insane and wearing some kind of Yeti costume." That's Will's (Hugh Grant) assessment of Marcus' mom Fiona, when Marcus tries to set Will up with Fiona in the movie About a Boy. You can somewhat see the hairy sweater in the picture to the left.

I had similar sentiments when Michelle Obama walked on stage last Tuesday night as her husband accepted his role as our future president. In my opinion, Michelle Obama is a knockout. She's gorgeous. However, I was sorely disappointed when she walked onto the stage wearing this:

Michelle with the lovely Malia, the older daughter

When the Obamas took the stage in Chicago, I was still at work reporting on various elections and watching the television, and I heard myself say aloud, "No, no, no, Michelle. Honey, nooooooo. WHAT are you wearing?"

I mean, what is that? Is that thing around her waist a cumberbund or a sash or two belts that are crisscrossed? Is the dress red, is it black? Meantime, those dots are making me dizzy. Also, Is that a cardigan? I just don't know.

I mean, look how gorgeous she is. And I have loved her choice of outfits during the election, but wearing that dress during such a highly historical moment was a bad choice. It is busy and detracts from her beauty. I just can't figure it out. I wonder if it is Stacy and Clinton approved. (And if you don't know what I mean by that, please reconsider what it means to be my friend.)

Here is another look at Michelle's frock on a model:


Did anyone else find her dress unflattering?? I look forward to seeing her First Lady wardrobe and maybe getting a few fashion pointers...that is, if she redeems herself after this catastrophe.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Hitting the trail...

The campaign trail, that is.

Kurt and I usually keep our political opinions to ourselves. However, we recently helped out a friend of his whose father is running for the U.S. Senate. Margaret Wicker and Kurt graduated from high school together and have been buddies since at least junior high, maybe earlier.

Kurt, Margaret, and me

Kurt and I both really like Roger Wicker and believe he is a much better candidate than Ronny Musgrove for the Senate. Wicker voted against the bailout, which we were also against. We recently spent the day taking fliers to houses and putting them in/on doors, somehow.

Thumbs down = illegal

It is illegal to put them in mailboxes, so the following are examples of the correct ways to campaign:

Also, make no mistake -- campaigning can be dangerous. Kurt got chased by a dog. I was down the street, and I heard a ruckus behind me. I looked down the street (not within 'hollering' distance) and saw/heard Kurt scolding a dog. So I called him on his cell phone, and he told me that a dog chased him out of a driveway. I laughed and said, "Nuh uh." And he said, "Yes it did. I had to back swiftly out of the driveway." Thanks for the explanation.

Kurt risked his life for Roger Wicker. Now that's loyalty.

Not the dog that chased Kurt, but of similar build.

I also faced danger. You never know what is lurking around your front door.

scary spider

Also, this little fellow told me he was voting for Wicker. He staged a sit-in in someone's yard until the owner promised to vote for Wicker. Now that's dedication.

I even decorated my car and my shirt to show my support.



Don't forget to vote on Tuesday. In summary,