Monday, December 27, 2010

F - This!!

So, I had a brilliant idea over the holidays for a business. Admittedly, I have a few kinks to work out, but really, I think it could take off.

I'm going to open a store, in the mall, right next to Macy's. It's called F-This! The F is not what you think. It's short for "fake".

And it's going to sell many fake things....why not? There's this obsession with these trendy items that cost an arm and a leg and people are willing to pay! What about those that want to look as cool but can't afford the price. I have the answer.

I won't sell Uggs, but Fuggs.  Mine won't cost $140, they'll only be like $19.99. And they'll be just as comfortable.

I'm gonna sell FiPads, FiPhones, FiPods. Let's not stop there...Foach Bags, Fandora jewelry, The Forth Face jackets. Fanolo Blahniks. The opportunities are endless.

My husbands all, "You won't pull it off, you'll get sued in a second." Downer. I don't think they sound the same at all.

I brought this up at Christmas dinner and although my niece and nephew loved the idea, they questioned where I was going to get the products. "Who makes a FiPad?" they asked. Okay, like I said  I have a few kinks to work out.

My brother asked about art. Sure!!! There could be a huge Fart section.

I'd love to hear any of your ideas if you have them. We could all go in on this together. Interested??

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A Bagger's Revenge

I understand that you take your job very seriously, I do. I was a cashier once and, truth be told, it was an awesome job. I sometimes had to bag orders. I was an amazing bagger. If they had awards (which would have been too freakin' ballsy), I would have won! Let's see if I remember: frozen foods in one bag, eggs on the top, meats separate from anything else, not too many cans in one bag, cleaning supplies have the plague - bundle them up several times and don't even think about putting them with anything edible. Um, you get the picture. It's not difficult.

((I bet most people think I am going to write about how he messed up that little grocery packing lesson I just wrote about. I wish.))

As my items came flying down the ramp (I say flying because Monica was whipping my food, even my chips), he stood there watching and waiting. I could easily see several items he could have started with, but I was powerless and bagless to help. He contemplated his next move like this was a chess game he needed to win because the very lives of his family hung in the balance. Then he began. Slowly. One item at a time. Searching for a compatible food item to share its ride home with cat food.

Did you think there were social problems you had to worry about? You stared at the pasta and bread crumbs for like :30? Did you think they'd mate like rabbits or kill one another like two male rats.

So, while he was contemplating my array of goods like he was on the finale of Survivor and this puzzle of fitting my groceries in perfectly, was the difference between $1,000,000 or nada - and trust me if that were the case, me and the 30 people behind me would have been rooting you on - I could only smile (what else could I do? It's almost Christmas, after all) and hope that Monica would help. Monica? Will you help? Please help Edmond. Nawww... she's to busy talking to the cashier next to her. I start listening in. What else could I do?

Monica's almost done Christmas shopping. Yogurt fits in nicely with the cheese and eggnog (they have sugar cookie eggnog, BTW, most excellent). She was going to get her boyfriend an iTunes gift card but that's so impersonal (big word from Monica). Broccoli goes in with peapods. No. Broccoli comes out and carrots go in with peapods. Sure, they are better suited to each other, I understand. Poor broccoli, I wonder where he'll end up. The other cashier (can't read her name. To. Far. Away) is getting her boyfriend an PS3, ha. She has no idea what she has done. I won't tell.  Mac 'n Cheese (don't judge) goes in with pasta and a couple jars of tomatoes. Oh, I see where he's going with that...and on ...and on... he goes.

So I get home and pull out my groceries. Everything has fallen over and out of their bags since I had to slam on my breaks for some loser who wouldn't go through a yellow light, I know...loser!!! So I pull out the last bag and there's the broccoli, which has managed to escape its plastic cocoon and is now getting to know, and intimately I might add, the soap and laundry detergent. Really? Really, Bagger!!

I know you are sitting in the break room laughing? I hope you are enjoying yourself.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

I Hate When This Happens!!!!

Someone left the cake out in the rain. I think it was my daughter. I told her to put it in the fridge and I saw her heading for it, but then the cat cried to be let in and, well...she must have been distracted.

I don't think that I can take it. Really!! 'Cause it took so long to bake it. I started around noon. Stopped just to make dinner and then went at it again. There was all this funky stuff with a real vanilla bean and whisking egg whites. Do you see all those freakin' flowers? Those aren't easy and they're all edible!  I finished at like 9:00  (I even missed the first 3 hours of Biggest Loser).

Why did it have to rain last night??? Crap. Why didn't I remember to put it in my beautiful cake holder from the Container Store. Shit!

And the worst part is... I'll never have that recipe again. Not sure why? I think it was one of those disappearing ink recipes. It lasts for one day and then, poof! Gone. I tried Googling it but nothing. The person that gave it to me said theirs vanished, too. I'm pissed. Damned it all!!!

Thursday, December 9, 2010

I'm A Red Light Texter

Wanna make something of it?

Yah, that's me - sitting behind my wheel just cruisin' for a bruisin'.

I don't care if a cop pulls up along side, let him watch.

My kids are sitting in the car, too. What of it?? I can handle it. Sometimes I even ask them to keep an eye on the light - yup - doin' momma's dirty work.

I like to live on the edge. You betta hope we don't cross paths!!

Oops, gotta go - light turned green.

Monday, December 6, 2010

We Wish You A Merry Christmas???

[[To my son...I know you said it was too long and no one will read it, but you know what? You and I laughed together while I wrote this and that is the best!! This one's for you... Merry Christmas my little boy!!]]



So my husband and I were having a nice relaxing dinner of chicken pot pie the other night. Just as I was about to sip my Cabernet, the doorbell rang. The children were all in various parts of the house so they weren't going to answer the door.  As my husband was sliding his chair out from under him, we heard a lovely harmonized humming from out front. I decided to join him as I suspected carolers.

We were pleasantly surprised to see a group of 6-7 men and woman standing at the bottom of our stairs humming quietly. It was beautiful and with the glistening snow behind them, it was simply a peaceful, charming scene.

As they started, my husband grabbed my hand...

"We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
And a happy New Year."

So awesome. I screamed for my kids but when one of the women cringed, I decided I'd better hunt them down. I didn't want them to miss all this Christmas cheer. 

The kids begrudgingly joined us at the door and were horrified to see grown men and women singing to us. I gave them the evil eye signaling to keep quiet and look as if this is the most magical thing in the world they've ever seen. They obliged.

"Glad tidings we bring
To you and your kin;
Glad tidings for Christmas
And a happy New Year!"

Awww...so sweet. Although I think the little woman on the end is freezing. But my husband's getting into it and is smiling and swaying and I'm smiling but also wondering how cold my dinner is getting.

"So bring us some figgy pudding
So bring us some figgy pudding
So bring us some figgy pudding
Please bring it right here!"

I'm sorry. What was that? I look quickly at my husband and mutter so they can't hear me, "What did they just say?" He has terror in his eyes as he responds, "Not sure, something about fruity pudding - do you have any jello?" "Maybe we misunderstood. Just keep smiling."

"Glad tidings we bring
To you and your kin;
Glad tidings for Christmas
And a happy New Year!"

"Ah, that's better. " We both think to our selves. The snow starts to gently fall. The kids are even getting a little into it. It's so picturesque that the chicken pot pie is actually forgotten. The wine, not so much.

"We won't go until we get some
We won't go until we get some
We won't go until we get some
So bring it out here!"

I glance at my husband again. He shifts his eyes at me, then quickly back to the group. Surely we misunderstood.  But they just keep repeating this.

"Bring what?" I ask him.
"Not sure? Maybe that fruity pudding stuff."
"It's figgy pudding, dad," my daughter pipes up.

"So bring us some figgy pudding
So bring us some figgy pudding
So bring us some figgy pudding
Please bring it right here!"

"Yup. It's figgy pudding alright," I say. Still smiling.

"We won't go until we get some
We won't go until we get some
We won't go until we get some
So bring it out here!"

An hour and  a half later. They are still at our door. Switching between so bring us some of that fig crap and we ain't leaving until we get some. My husband's all "Maybe we should call the cops." I cleaned up our dinner dishes, got the kids in bed and while I was folding the laundry, still they went on and on.

CRASH!!!   WTF

"Oh my God, honey! One of them just threw a rock at our door," My husband comes flying into the bedroom with a crazed look on his face. "What the hell are we gonna do?" Do you know how to make figgy pudding?" He screamed. "Maybe if we just make some and give it to them, they'll leave."

"Honey, I don't even know what the hell a fig is. Can I make them chocolate pudding? I have that."

"NO!" He screams, grabs his hat and coat and amidst snowballs being hurled at warped speed at his car, takes off for the store."

Some how I fell asleep to the lulling sound of people demanding milk based desserts. And woke to the blender whirring away in the kitchen. I stumbled down the stairs, hearing them telling us they still ain't leaving. Oh my head!

"Are you serious? Are you freakin' making figgy pudding?" I asked my husband, who at this point looked possessed.

"Honey,"  he's whispering, "they are not leaving" they won't leave until the get some, can't you HEAR them? If I don't get this made," he's panting now, "they may never leave. I fear for the kid's safety. Holy shit. What was that?"

"Nothing. Honey, your starting to lose it."

"Pass me that flamingo egg," he yells.

Seriously, where the hell did he find that?

With a quick whisk of the egg, a plop into 6-7 bowls, it was done. All I kept thinking was, what if it sucks and they won't take it? What if they want whipped cream? I don't have any. God. Hear our prayer. Make them go away!!

With what can only be described as pure unadulterated fear, we opened our door. There they were all red faced from singing, lack of sleep and toilet facilities, I imagine, glaring at us. My husband, like Oliver asking for more food, offers up the bowls.

They pass the bowls around. As they begin to eat, the sun starts rising in the East and all might just be right for the world. We hold our breath. And wait....

"Glad tidings we bring
To you and your kin;
Glad tidings for Christmas
And a happy New Year!"

Do I dare breathe. Is that a smile on one of their faces?

We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a happy New Year."

And like they were never here, they left. Not even a thank you. Really? But there was silence.  The only sound...my husband licking his fingers.

"Damn this stuff is good"

I ran inside, called my neighbor. "DO NOT ANSWER THE DOOR!!!"

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

What's Wrong With The Doll??

On the Island of Misfit toys there's a train with square wheels, a gun that shoots jelly, a Charlie-in-the-Box, a bird that likes to swim,  a cowboy that rides an ostrich, a boat that sinks, a spotted elephant and even Hermey is an elf who wants to be a dentist. But what is wrong with the doll??!!!

According to misfittoys.net, "Arthur Rankin, producer, says the Dolly's problem is more psychological. As it is never mentioned in the script why in particular the doll is a misfit, some offer this: Charlie-in-the-Box tells Rudolph, Hermey and Yukon when they arrive on the Island of Misfit Toys that King Moonracer flies over the earth each night and brings unloved toys to the island of Misfits. Dolly is perhaps there because she feels she is unloved and perhaps the the little girl who once played with her is now grown up and Dolly now sits in a box, unwanted, waiting to be loved by another little girl again."

Awwwww...too, sad...she is an unloved Dolly.

Hmmmm....I'm thinking I would not want to receive a doll that had psychological problems.