Gabby's Christmas Photo Journal, Vol. 2

I fear nothing could be as good as last year's, but here we go...

Let's count them down, from worst to best. This does include some of Micah's new treasures.

10. A Jell-O mold. I have never molded Jell-O in my life, do you suppose it's fun? Do you suppose my mom has just GIVEN UP? I guess no longer being the baby of the family means I get stuck with all the stock gifts she buys for extended family.

(Please, let's not overlook the fact that these molds are indeed 3-D. The 2-D ones just don't come out right.)

9. Exhibit B: I am further relegated to the ranks of stock gifts. Ahem, broken stock gifts. Boy are you all lucky that I showed this candle now, meaning I can't surprise someone with it for the White Elephant exchange. You lucky bitches.

8. Apparently my mom doesn't want me to be struck by a moving vehicle and she wants me to be able to use my earrings for bait should I ever find myself fishing without worms. (Please excuse the poor picture, it's hard to photograph blindingly bright objects that resemble the colorful glisten of grease on a street.)

7. Mom! Stop with the hideous blankets! That sounds so terrible, but seriously. TEAL?! Couldn't she have matched the rust stripe instead? Once again she's made a blanket which can only be viewed on one side. (What, you do don't remember the cat blanket from last year?) I'm sorry, Micah. I...I...well, I have a mom who makes ugly blankets. Only the first year's were cute, and you weren't around then.

(What's really messed up is that this picture makes the teal look a lot more acceptable than it actually is. *shudder*)

6. Frango mints! Now we're getting somewhere. So yummy and so appropriate, considering they were the favors at our wedding reception. Except these have pink white chocolate coating and support breast cancer research! Thanks, cousin Lisa.

5. Magazines, dear magazines, how you excite and amuse me. My brother's girlfriend bought me two subscriptions! The gift that keeps on giving! Now if I can just learn to ignore the articles about how to get skinny where the model doing the poses is size -2. But don't you just love when InStyle goes into the celebrity's home for an interview? It's totally a sneak peak! Except all you're really looking at is the result of the celeb client saying to their decorator, "I like Rustic Mediterranean and Retro Mod. Here's 100 grand. Make it work."

4. A bottle of Kahlua for Micah and Baileys for Gabby. Because Mandy and Noel are all about gifts that rhyme with names. Such enablers, those two - giving us gifts that inspire drinking before noon. (No picture for this one, because we drank it all already.)(KIDDING! The batts ran out on the camera.)

3. You know what's really helpful? If you have a wedding gift registry still kicking out there in Targetland when Christmas comes so your exceedingly practical Aunt knows where to look. Behold, our new dishes. So square! So matchy! So ready for a dinner party! (After I wash off the styrofoam bits. I have an image to maintain.)

2. Wanna see what I got Micah for Christmas?

(It's a record player, lookin' all retro (the dial! mmm!) with a CD, cassette, and radio all up in there as well. He has a tall stack of records he hasn't heard for at least five years. This gift was a big hit. For the record -ha- old Ani mix tapes don't hold up so well. )

1. But I think what he gave me tops everything. Behold, my gigantor comfy chair, the one that rocks, reclines, coddles, envelopes, tips back, and generally makes my body feel like a million lazy dollars:

So, what did you get? And when are you coming over to make Jell-O molds?

merry merry and all that

Merry Christmas! I hope wherever you are it's cozy and comfy and there are plenty of cookies on hand. You know what I haven't had this year? Those rum ball things. Mmmm.

Anyway, the cats just wanted to say Happy Holidays (they are totally more p.c. than me). They are generally too cute for words and occasionally bad enough for some very unkind words. They didn't get coal this year. Instead they earned the right to enjoy my bad-ass new gigantor armchair recliner, which is very very gigantor, and very very cloud-like.

(Gigantor chair not pictured. That is an old nappy electric blanket. What's up with cats and nappy stuff?)

I can't imagine a better Christmas (if it's not snowing, that is) than one that has the entire first season of Arrested Development playing on G4. We've been watching all day. So funny!

I think there will have to be a second round of Christmas Photo Journal, perhaps tomorrow. The damage has yet to be done this year, as I haven't exchanged gifts with my family yet. That's harsh. In all honesty we'll probably get a lot of stuff no one claimed on the wedding registry. Awesome!

And I think I might want our Christmas tree up all year long.

Kidding. Sort of.

no big surprise

My husband does not know how to have a proper Christmas surprise. Last week he came home proclaiming "I bought your Christmas presents!" and made a fuss over hiding them behind his back and putting them away. Ten minutes later, I opened them! By "opened" I mean Micah pulled them from behind his back one by one and gave them to me. Because he insisted. "You can use them right now! Why wait?" is his logic. Oh, does he have a thing or two to learn. I can't believe I gave in. Probably because he also said these were just little gifts, the big one was still to come.

Christmas is about suspense (also something or other about the babe jesus) but please. Christmas is fun as an adult because it's easy to feel the magic you felt as a child, and that magic existed because we got gifts. For free. All we had to do was exist, by golly, and Santa/our parents (does it really matter?) would bless us with New Stuff. When you're little and tree is up for weeks with no present in sight, taunting you, you're taken over by suspense. It was hard to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, so so hard. I would lie awake for hours listening to my parents clean up the Christmas party through the vents, wondering how I could possibly close my eyes for more than five minutes. When I woke up at seven a.m. I always marveled at the fact that I fell asleep at all. Yes. I was that excited.

Of course now that I'm all grown up I have no problem falling asleep on Christmas Eve because I know there isn't going to be shit for me to open at seven a.m. (also, alcohol). The excitement surely fades, especially when you stop living at home. It leaks out almost entirely when you aren't the baby anymore, the granddaughter is the baby, the bestowed upon. The darling, precocious, giggling granddaughter. Your niece. She's fabulous, though she ended the era of you being the baby. And by "you" I mean "me." Still, I will always be apeshit over Christmas. If we have kids, they will feel my enthusiasm and it will fuel theirs, because Christmas is about children more than anything.

Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah. Micah doesn't appreciate the concept of waiting until Christmas to open gifts. I bought him a record player with built in CD, cassette, and radio. Then I wrapped it and put it under the tree and Micah won't know what it is until December 25. He's going to love it, as he has a stack of records he hasn't heard for years. Because I'm a spoiled brat, I made it known that I would love to have a gift to open on Christmas morning. It's our first one together and I would love nothing more than to brew up some coffee, spike it mightily with Kahlua, and sit together on the couch for some quality Christmas gift-giving. Then he can put on some records and I'll set-up my new computer (I wish) and we'll feel ridiculously happy to have one another and New Stuff.

So Micah did in fact go get my "big" gift. And he tried to give it me early, naturally, and I adamantly refused. "No," I said, stamping my foot, "I will NOT open it. PUT IT AWAY! HIDE IT!" Still he pushed. "Come on! Do I really have to wrap it? And you could be using it right now." Such tired reasoning. Hide the motherfucker and don't show me til Christmas. THANKS. He thinks it's cute to give me fake clues, like "The kitty cats really like it. They want to eat it. It's an animal." Or "If we just had some batteries you could be using it right now. We don't have twenty-two double As in the house?" A-HA. You SOOOO FUNNY.

As of right now, I still have no idea what it is and there's less than a week until Christmas. I think I might get my Christmas morning surprise after all, though I'm 98% sure it won't be wrapped.

oh yes. yesssss.

I have a soft spot for Nintendo. Oh, you do too? Then I'll be your favorite person of the hour.

Check out "Mission in Snowdriftland," an online game brought to you by those clever Nintendo people. It's actually an Advent calendar, but rest assured ain't no mini Jesus chocolates gonna pop out at you. If you decide to skip the intro you won't be missing anything - basically the little snowman must collect all the snowflakes (and hearts = new life) on each level, and there is a level for each Advent calendar day. I'm totally addicted, and my right wrist is killing me, y'all. Carpel tunnel like a mug. I guess that's what happens when you play online computer games where the only buttons you can use are the directional arrows which are reallyclosetogether.

But really? It's so much fun! And I haven't even gotten halfway through the first level yet! (Don't laugh at me. Go ahead and play and you'll see it's not so easy, what with all the using arrows to move a slippery little guy around a slippery, wintery terrain, complete with tippy icebergs and cutesy beings just waiting for you to run into them.) Also, the initial loading might take awhile, but after that the loading is quick. I hate waiting for loading, I usually won't, so if I'm telling you it's quick, it's quick, okay?

In Other News...

The dinner party last night went beautifully, just as I'd hoped. The company was perfect and so were the pizzas. It was really, really weird to have my parents over, I must admit. They loved the apartment, the food, and I can tell they really want to know Micah better, which is adorable. In general, this dinner party thing? SO MUCH FUN.

it's a long one, folks

It's the middle of December already? Really?

This weekend was horrible and exciting in equal measure.

The Horrible: I dragged Micah with me to the company Christmas party. As soon as we arrived I realized we were underdressed and I couldn't let it go. (In my own defense, I've never been to this company's Christmas party nor the steakhouse in which it was held, so I was kind of guessing. Poorly.) I couldn't get over my embarrassment, even though Micah tried to calm me down by saying nobody would notice my jeans (even Micah was dressier than me, he wore khakis!) because the room was so crowded. Crowded doesn't even cover it. The barroom in which we were all squished was about ten degrees hotter than it should have been. The waitstaff looked extremely annoyed about all the maneuvering. Our entire party should have been seated at seven o'clock; by seven-thirty, still no sign or word of a table.

Then a bitch-ass bartender pulled a bitch-ass move on me. Shortly after we arrived I bought two Jack and Cokes to put us in a better mood. After speaking briefly with the manager from one of our departments I realized there was a company tab open at the bar.

"So," I politely said to the bartender, "I didn't realize ___ had a tab when I paid for those drinks earlier." Then I shut my mouth to see if she'd pick up what I was puttin' down.

"Well the tab was closed ten minutes ago."

I waited, still politely, for her to continue with a customer-friendly response such as "But since I didn't know you're with ____, I can refund your drinks." (Or in the spirit of benefit-of-doubt, maybe comp us a couple drinks? Anything? Hello?)

No such response. I stared at her. Hard.

"Well, we've had our drinks for at least twenty minutes," I say through gritted teeth (but smiling lips!)

"I'm sorry. He closed the tab." At that point she was hardly looking at me anymore, ready to serve the next thirsty customer.

"So even though we've had our drinks for twenty minutes and he closed the tab TEN minutes ago, there's nothing you can do?"

"There's nothing I can do."

Now, I'm polite and very gentle with strangers. Even when I'm mad or feel unjustly treated by a company or its employees, I leave the situation with little more than a lingering look of disbelieve because I don't have much confidence in my ability to make a Scene in which I come out victorious. But that bartender made me feel violently rude, like if my boss weren't standing ten feet away I'd surely tell her what she can do with that three-dollar tip I gave her for drinks that I wasn't supposed to pay for. I was SO FUCKING PISSED.

Combined with the fact that I could not get over my misjudgment of the appropriate attire situation (it's a Christmas party, Gab! This ain't the 4th of July! What were you THINKING?) and the fact that the quarters were so close I accidently touched a co-worker's ass (oh, you think that's funny? You should see the co-worker!) and I had had enough. There was no table in sight, and it was a steakhouse. Do you know how long it would take to cook steaks for a party of twenty-five? Yeah, we left. I burst into tears in the parking lot and cried all the way to Old Country Buffet, which, as it happened, was having "Steak Night."

Did I mention I was PMSing?

Turns out my co-workers didn't get seated until eight-thirty, and they didn't leave until midnight. Don't you love it when you learn shit like that? I can't even comprehend how annoyed Micah and I would have been by that point. Disaster (somewhat) averted.

The exciting: New furniture and A LOT of cleaning! My parents and Father Gary are coming over for dinner tonight. Now, you might be wondering why on earth a priest is going to have dinner in our apartment. For one, he is the coolest, most awesomest priest EVER. He goes to Tori Amos concerts, cusses, and started a gay and lesbian support group in the church. He runs the Catholic Student Center at a local college of prestige, and let me tell you, he knows how to talk to young and old alike. He's a superstar. He's the ONLY reason I ever enjoyed going to church because his sermons are like therapy sessions. Everyone clamors for his attention because when you're with him you've never felt so special, so lighthearted, so enchanted. He's amazing, and he adores me. At least that's what he tells me, though I know I'm not the first to hear it. Anyway, he showed up at our wedding reception much to everyone's surprise (he's just that popular and that busy) and he invited himself over for dinner at our place in front of my dad, who probably shit his pants with excitement that Gary was initiating dinner with our family, which has happened before but is seriously an event to covet, Ten Commandments aside. (By the way - I've been struggling with one thing...do you call yourself a Catholic if you were raised Catholic but don't practice, believe, take seriously, etc.?)

So all weekend we've been cleaning like mad. I feel like we've been cleaning like mad a lot lately, getting rid of trash, paring down, adult-ing up. I've been trying to keep in mind that this is all not just for one evening of entertainment, it's a general upgrade that will last long after the last pizza crust is consumed tonight. I am honestly very proud of our apartment and the amount of time we spent making it gleam. On Saturday we spent SIX HOURS running errands and looking for The Perfect Chair for the living room. We ended up with two things we didn't know we were looking for: The Perfect Rug and The Perfect Coffeetable, but the elusive Perfect Chair never materialized, not for lack of trying. When did furniture get so damn expensive? I suppose it's worth it if you find something classic and well-made, but nothing under 300 bucks fit either description, and excuse me, but we don't have that kind of money to be dropping on a chair just so a priest will be impressed with us. Ok, fine, it's not all for the priest, I want my parents to be proud as well, and we really do need an armchair of some sort. I can't believe it, but my parents have never stepped foot in any of the places I've lived since high school. I actually feel terrible about it because they open their home to us any damn second we decide to visit. All the meals my mom has made over the years? All the spoiling and such, never reciprocated? It all ends tonight. I am so excited.

Except I won't be able to smoke a cigarette when I get home from work because I don't want it to smell like smoke at all (poor Micah, at home today, under a strict smoking inside ban). And my parents are coming like forty-five minutes earlier than the priest, which means I have forty-five minutes less to chain-smoke cigarettes on the balcony in between dough-kneadings and forty-five less minutes to inspect every surface and harass the cats to get off the damn dinner table, already!

Can you tell I'm a little nervous?

Gamer

Micah loves to play video games on his PS2. He desperately wants me to play with him and enjoy it as much as he does, but I just can't get down with most of what's out there to play. I don't like shoot-'em-up games, I don't like anything that's too chatty (like pausing every five minutes to talk to some elf or tree that will warn me about something in an infuriatingly vague way) and if I have to learn more than five moves to be successful, chances are I'm going to give up on my first try.

Prince of Persia was the first PS2 game that I could really get into. The Prince can run along walls, swing and jump from poles like a gymnast, climb a wall by stabbing his sword into metal plates, walk along skinny beams, and jump great distances. Now that is fun. I let Micah do most of the fighting scenes until he realized he didn't get to do any of the fun platforming stuff and then I had to start sharing. There are three games in the PoP series, and we've completed all three together. Awww.

Because I'm so extremely picky about what video games I'll even try, I've completely frustrated Micah. He tries to convince me I'll like The Suffering even though I know I won't simply by the title. He tries to show me how very funny Psychonauts is, but to me it's all chatter, no action. If I wanted to watch funny animation I'd rent Nemo or flip to Adult Swim. He just doesn't understand my gamer needs, which were developed on a Gameboy back before games went 3-D.

Until yesterday. Wanna know what I did for four hours last night? Played Tetris. Yep. Go ahead and swoon with jealousy. TetrisWorld, to be exact, courtesy of Micah and a Game Stop employee who told Micah how very lucky he was to obtain a copy. They've expanded basic Tetris so you can play up to 4-player arcade mode, or choose story mode which requires increasingly better play to make different landscapes come to life.

People. The joy is no longer only in the hands of Nintendo owners.

Tetris and I go way, way back. It came free with the Gameboy I got when I was ten, and playing Tetris once on my cousin's big screen tv (which, come on - to a ten-year-old it might as well have been the whole wall) is still one of my favorite memories. Crazy how a giveaway game can cause such an international crush. I didn't know anyone in fifth through eighth grades that couldn't play the shit outta some Tetris. The Gameboy era was the heyday of my video gamer experience. I've gotten to the end of only one game all by myself - Super Mario Land - and I could do it faster than my brother. I don't recall ever beating Tetris which probably means I never did. I have been given a second chance.

Because you know what? I'm fucking good, better than I remember. Know what else? Micah had never played Tetris before last night. I don't even know how that's possible considering he was consistently the top scorer on the local 7-11's Ms. Pacman by age eight. Watching Micah play Tetris is a gall-dang RIOT. He totally and completely sucks. He really likes to watch me play, though, which I must admit feels great. He is marveling at MY game play? Micah? The one who endures 30-minute showdowns with the biggest, baddest video game villians and comes out victorious every time?

Nope. He can't play Tetris. We both had a massive laugh attack at his expense last night, laughed harder than we have in months, and I'm glad he can find humor in his own incapabilities. However, I don't expect this to be the case for long. Because of the cold weather he isn't working today and he has nine solid hours in which to develop some talent without me "helping" over his shoulder. I predict he'll make great strides today, and by the weekend it'll finally be a competitive experience. We'll see.

My husband, he knows just what it takes to make me happy. And yes, you can play Tetris the next time you come over. You know you want to.

let it snow

(I should note these are from a significant snow last year. I was inspired by our recent weather to post them. I should've taken pictures of all the ice a few days ago - shiny goodness! Anyway, enjoy the wintery bliss of Tower Grove Park...)

the dishes are done, man

I made it! I blogged every single day for a month. Surely that's an accomplishment. Right? RIGHT?

Sorry if it was boring at times. I think I'll take a little break to regroup. Maybe I'll actually come up with something that garners a laugh or two. Or, you know, even a cracked smile?

Maybe, just maybe, I'll win one of the prizes offered to those who did this successfully. I probably don't deserve one because I stopped that stupid contest. I'm assuming no one really cared, though. Um, maybe if you had participated a little more...? Hmmm...?

Oh, I'm kidding. KIDDING! Love you all to pieces!

That's all. See you in December.

the beautiful 29th

I saw this on someone else's blog and decided to steal it immediately. I like schtuff like this:

One word responses only! (And if you truly love me, you'll copy and paste it into the comments and fill in your own responses.)

The Day: Anna's
Your Last Meal: cereal
What You Just Heard: Xerox
You Can't Live Without: love
What You Wish You Could Be: thin
Your Bed: flannel
Currently Feeling: hungry
Word You Hate: panties
Afraid Of: carjacking
Subject You Loved In High School: English
Your Toothpaste: Crest
Unfinished Project: stockings
Your Hands: big
Your Co-Workers: strangers
What You Like For Breakfast: cereal
Who Annoys You: drivers
Most Recent Purchase: gas
Wishing For: dog
Favorite Ice Cream Flavor: Oreo
Unsure Of: fertility
Last Person You Talked To On the Phone: Dad
How You Relax: tv
Your Shirt: pink
Celebrity You Drool Over: McConaughey
Celebrity You Despise: Gottfried
Where You Were Last Night: home
Where You Will Be Tomorrow: home*

*if the meteorologists are correct, there will be a sheet of ice on the ground covered by several inches of snow. If I wake up to these conditions, it will be extremely tempting to stay home. I'm very much a lazy hedonist, and I can't imagine anything more lovely than snuggling up on the couch with my cats and all the daytime tv I adore and never see (Rosie! She's back on tv!) with the shades pulled all the way up so I can see the snow accumulate on the large pine tree outside. Normally Micah would be home to keep me company on a day like that because ya can't pour concrete in the freezing rain/snow, but he managed to get a snowy-day job driving a snow plow! He could also be spreading salt. Or both. He also said he could be gone for three days! They have to go until the streets are finished. That makes me sad, but the money is good.

In other news....

Happy Birthday, Anna! Can I share one of my favorite stories about you? I'll keep it short.

One day we were sitting at the coffeehouse and decided we really, really missed Heidi, who lived in Ithaca, NY at the time. In less than an hour we were packing our bags and fueling up my Tercel. Thirteen hours later, we arrived safe and sound. That's exactly the type of spontaneous adventure that gets my blood pumping, and I'll never forget how happy we were while driving away from St. Louis. That's also the trip when the rotted, writhing bag of potatoes was discovered in my trunk. Shuddup.

One more? Visiting you in Santa Cruz, the only time I've been to California. We got drunk at your kitchen table while listening to Marry Me Jane on repeat.

I hope your birthday is fantastic. You're a superstar, yes, that's what you are. And yes, 27 does seem a whole lot older than 26, but don't worry...we're all right behind you.

two days left

(currently bumpin' along with my new Nelly Furtado CD! bump along!)

Well, the concert last night was great. We managed to get seats (butt-numbing stools, but seats nonetheless) in a pretty good location, and getting there early wasn't as miserable as I predicted. OK Go was fantastic, and much to everyone's delight they cleared a section of the stage at the end of their set and did the whole "A Million Ways" dance. Death Cab was pretty good, but I enjoyed them more last April. They played a bunch of really mellow songs, which didn't seem to mesh with the crowd's vibe, but before the encores (and right before we left) they did a highly energetic song during which Ben, the lead singer, puts his guitar down and races over to a second drum set. He and the drummer then got into this intense drum duet which made the whole evening of waiting worth it. Rock on.

Only two complaints, really - people were squeezing past us the whole night. Mildly annoying at first, but by the hundredth pass I was ready to trip someone. My other beef was with the 6'5" dude and his 6' girlfriend that just had to stand in a place where they blocked the view of about fifteen people. The nerve!

Let's see, what else is new around these parts...

Oh, so it's about 65 degrees right now, and today it reached 70. December is in two days! Crazy!

But wait! On Thursday it's supposed to drop thirty degrees in a few hours, followed by rain, freezing rain, and SNOW. Mother Nature is a tricky lady, and boy does she like to mess with Midwesterners.

I'll leave you with this too-cute picture of my brother and my niece:

have you been watching? it's funnier lately!

Did you see Maya Rudolph singing the National Anthem on last night's (rerun) SNL? Fucking HILARIOUS! I love that it's supposed to be in St. Louis during the World Series.

And that's where the loves ends. Fucking NBC. They yanked it from YouTube immediately, and on their website it shows pictures from the skit but I can't find a link to an actual clip. The message boards on the page are filled with many of these same bitter sentiments - everyone loves it and can't understand why it's not on NBC's website. Some even bought the episode on iTunes and that skit was omitted! What's up with that?

I really hope you saw it. I'll let you know if I find it. So far the best I can do is link you to this still from the skit, and I must say I didn't notice the local grocery store reference until I saw this picture. Too funny. Someone did their research!

That's it for today. Bittersweet as usual.

five days left

Today has been a lazy day, by and large. Micah and I had Indian food for lunch, which is always fantastic and makes me jealous that some people eat that food everyday. Delish.

We meant to see For Your Consideration after that, but ended up wanting to just go home instead. There are reasons I see approximately two movies per year in the theater. It is just that easy to decide to do something else. Don't know what that's about.

I did order A Prairie Home Companion from On Demand, and Micah promptly fell asleep. I dozed off as well, but I liked as much as I saw of the movie. I'll have to resume it. I think Lindsay Lohan's character is going to sing "Amazing Grace" with Woody Harrelson's character, which makes me unreasonably happy.

I'm loving up this long weekend, but somehow Sunday still arrived too quickly. Christmas is officially "up" in our neighborhood. Big fun. Big, inflated fake snow globes fun. What is that about? I guess if there's any time you get away with flagrant tackyness, it's the month prior to the celebration of the birth of the baby jeebus.

I'm excited to see Beck on SNL tonight (even if it's a rerun) because I heard his band uses cups and other random things to make music, which, HELLO. Awesome.

making the merry

Just popping in briefly to say that I'm simply giddy because the gang is coming over for some games! How I worship game nights, which are becoming more frequent. We've got tequila, a gallon of margarita mix, and the pizzas are already on their way. I even happen to have grenadine and orange juice, so hopefully someone wants a Tequila Sunrise.

Not only do I expect us to get down with some Taboo, but I actually braved shopping hell today (ok, I waited until 5:00) and picked up a dry erase board, because there's going to be some mothereffing Win, Lose, or Draw up in here. Oh yes. YES!

so thankful

Ohhh. My achin' belly. Most humans aren't made for two Thanksgiving feasts in one day. It's just not natural.

At noon we went to Micah's sister's house in the country, which was actually really fun. His family is extremely hospitable and they all get along really well, much like my family. Whenever people make comments about dreading the drama that comes with family gatherings, I can't relate. Sure, there may be several cousins with whom I've never exchanged more than "hi" and "bye," but I'd take that over bickering any day. Micah's family all seemed genuinely happy to have us there, and I got to see some interesting things, including dear carcasses and a tub full of their half-dried entrails! Yee haw! As I've mentioned, I like to be grossed out, so I examined those carcasses as close as I could without smelling them. I also tried imitation pumpkin Schnapps, and friends, the aftertaste was like liquid pumpkin pie. Takes a second to get past the highlighter-orange color, though.

While I was there I kept wishing Micah's parents were still alive so I could have a chance to know them. You can get a sense of who they were simply by interacting with their five children, but what I wouldn't give to have them around, to see for myself. Micah's siblings are all so much older than he is, so they tend to act parental towards him. He's always been his own man, though.

We left DeSoto with a plate of leftovers, an understandably small bottle of 100 proof tequila, and several pounds of deer meat.

Then I made the mistake of laying down during our brief intermission between family events. I sure as hell didn't want to get up. But I did, because that's what you do.

We went to my cousin Linda's house and ate dinner with my dad's side of the family. Everyone seems to adore Micah, they asked him questions and made him feel welcome. It's amazing how marriage will make your family members take you more seriously. Sad but true, I think. I reminded my brother that we are in a similar situation regarding the continuance of two families - if he doesn't have a male child there will be no more Lueckings, and if I don't have a male child there will be no more Atkinsons. Crazy. I think that freaked him out a little because I'm pretty sure he doesn't have plans for another child.

All in all, it was a great day. Micah and I felt a lot of love. We feel like the Couple of the Year, which is entirely fitting because this has been the best year of my life. I'm so curious to see what the next will bring.

---------
Quick aside - you know how people are always blaming Thanksgiving Day tiredness on the tryptophan in turkey? We watched a show on Nat'l Geographic that says that's not so. All meat has tryptophan in it, and it would take a lot more than even a large serving of turkey to affect you. Tiredness is caused by consuming upwards of 3,000 calories in one day. When you eat that much, digestion requires all of your energy, which causes your organs to slow down to accommodate the energy needs, which makes you tired. Interesting, no?

grosser than gross

(would you like a cookie with your nuclear run-off?)

I'm in a weird mood today. I just tried to figure out if I could pass my Intro to Programming class without doing any of the projects, because they scare the crap out of me. No dice. I must attempt them. I suppose even partial credit is better than none.

I have nothing to talk about. I'm so happy that we're under ten days away from being finished with this blogging challenge.

I went into my personal folders on my work computer looking for inspiration. I remember saving these pictures last year, but I can't remember why I saved them and why I saved so many (this isn't all of them). They're genuine recipes from 50s cookbooks, which is astounding.

I enjoy being grossed out, do you?

(a bit of lettuce with your Klingon Head?)

(an appropriate dish for Christmas dinner, no?)

(pretty sure this one ain't dead yet)

(nothing accompanies bovine vericose veins like potato wedges!)

Can you imagine if your mom plunked one of those suckers on the table and expected you to eat it? Life was like Fear Factor back then, huh? This is what the blogging boredom has come to. I foresee myself taking a vacation once December starts. I'll try to think of something brilliant to write about tomorrow, and I'll aim high for this weekend as well. Don't hold your breath, you could pass out doing that.

non sequitur

I have discovered that an all-liquid diet isn't so bad if you have a brand new blender and all kinds of tasty smoothie and shake ingredients.

Does fresh pineapple rip the shit out of your mouth, too?

Rice Krispie treats don't have to be made out of Rice Krispies. If your cereal boxes are down to the dregs, mix them all together and go on with your bad self. So tasty, even if that shit is stale.

I think being a wife has made me go all Domestic. I make the bed. I shine my kitchen appliances. I hang pretty dishtowels on the oven. And then I wash them. On a regular basis.

Why do I assume my boss is talking about me when he closes his door while he's on the phone?

Why does Micah always use the Statue of Liberty pen to write his checks, even though the ink flow is shoddy?

Why won't my mouse work on anything but the cheap, ugly, warped plastic mouse pad that came with it?

I always miss my faraway friends the most around the holidays.

I want to teach my niece to ride a horse.

I wish Monday night tv was better so I'd have a reason to shut up already.

My husband looks cosy and cute under the blanket on the couch. I think I'll go join him even though he's watching some video game show on G4.

how very professional

So, I went for my follow up with the dental surgeon on Friday. He wanted to make sure the hole where my tooth used to be was healing correctly. The next step in the procedure is to get an implant (a screw in my jaw) that will have to be in 10-12 weeks, and then I can go in to get fitted for a crown.

The implant procedure is costly and not covered by insurance. My fancy-pants cocky doctor probably doesn't understand the phrase "I cannot afford it right now," or at least that's the impression I got after convincing him that yes, I will be back for the implant! Yes, I realize my jaw will deteriorate and my teeth will shift and it's VERY FUCKING IMPORTANT. Got it.

This is what he says to me at the very end of his speech about why I need to get it sooner than later:

"You don't want a big hoosier hole in your mouth, do you? You're not a hoosier, are you?"

(If you're not from St. Louis..."hoosier" = white trash)

i have a confession to make

We put up the Christmas tree.

I'm disappointed in myself. Normally I'm vehemently opposed to putting up anything until after Thanksgiving. That's how it was in my house growing up. My dad didn't string up the outside lights until early December, and we didn't put the tree up until two weeks out. I thought that's how it should be.

Then I married someone who doesn't remember ever having a Christmas tree. After his mom died, his dad just couldn't bring himself to be the sole bearer of happy tidings. That breaks my Christmas Freak heart.

The lights and (fake) pine roping went up a week ago around the doorframes. The tree went up today. I managed to fit just about every new ornament I got from Crate & Barrel onto the tree, as well as some cute dollar store finds for good measure. I don't want the tree to get cocky.

I have another confession.

It's fake.

(At least it's 3-D this year. Last year it was a zig-zagged string of lights with some broken up pine branches tucked in everywhere. The ornaments were paper.)

gurgle, sputter (alternately titled "linkin' blogs")

I just wrote a nice post linking to all sorts of blogs and websites that I adore, complete with fawning descriptions that would definitely make you want to go visit. Then I hit "publish" and I FUCKING HATE THE INTERNET SOMETIMES. Error screen. Blogger outage. WHATEVER, IT SUCKS. And I can't bring myself to rewrite in such loving detail because I have homework to do. Bah.

So, here ya go. Skeleton descriptions.

Pop Candy - I don't know why you aren't reading this everyday.

Ruined Music - everyone has a song or two forever ruined because of the history they represent. Here, people spill the reasons why, essay-style.

Snarkywood - Puh-LEAZ go check this out, and don't skip the archives. I wanna be a Snarker.

Cute Overload - if you need a smile on your face PRONTO.

Famous people have blogs too:
Rosie - I love "ask rosie" and looking at her candid pictures
Zach Braff - such great musical taste, so down to earth
Sasha Cohen - shut up and let me have my ice skating idol!

Awesome - a few funny ladies with good taste peruse the internet for great products. Cool, cute, retro, necessary, the gambit. There's a list of links that go to some great off-the-path web stores.
A few bloggers whose writing I love and who always crack my shit up:
City Wendy
Nothing but Bonfires
Mimi Smartypants
Amalah
Dad Gone Mad
The Random Muse

Go and enjoy. Sometimes it's hard to get into the blogs of people you don't know, and I must say that I've read most of the archives in the forty-something blogs I read daily and it really helps to enjoy them. But the ones that aren't personal blogs are easy to get into...especially Pop Candy and Snarkywood.
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A few issues not unrelated to the lack of substance on this blog - I agree with this thought of Cecily's: posting to your blog everyday seriously dilutes it. Usually you have a couple days where ideas roll around in your brain, and when you actually sit down to write it has more substance. Even before I started this challenge I kept thinking that I wasn't happy with the content on my blog. It's usually just a bunch of blabbing about nothing important. I remember when I used to write write, back when I used the word "like" because I was setting up a metaphor, and not because I was trying to convey my own ditsyness. I'm still unsure if I've got the right number of commas and I steadily ignore the rules about not ending a sentence with the word "of" and not starting a sentence with the word "and." I know I'm not trying to win any fuckin' contests with this blog, but every once in awhile I'd like to look at what I wrote and think "damn, that's good."

pictures!

Today is the halfway point for this blogging everyday thing. Thank goodness.

I have little to say besides "let there be pictures."

first, of course, me and my mister

Kim, Gabby, Jacky

my brother's girlfriend and Nancy from Texas, blending, blending

my awesome cousins from Texas, my brother and me

Catherine and Josh. So cute, you two.
Wendy and Jon (I would like to mention that there are more pictures of these two than any others, including me and Micah...)

Mandy, having a fabulous hair day.

My Aunt Gloria (left) and her best friend Joyce. They are globetrotting retirees and my two favorite Republicans.

Wendy, Jon, Mandy, Noel, and Noel's mom, who sent ME a thank you note for inviting her! Precious.

My dad, who looks happier than I've ever seen him, and my brother

That's all for now, this is taking forever!

"Good pizza is never round."

I just wanted to say that making homemade pizza from scratch is not as daunting as you might think. I was inspired because we got some very cool pizza accessories as wedding gifts, including a little recipe book.

My only real experiences with homemade pizza happened when I was preteen and friends with this girl Cara whose mother would make it for us on special occasions or when she was feeling nice. We'd all gather in her kitchen and shoot the shit while Mama D, as we called her, would knead dough, stir sauce, and chop ingredients. The end result was marvelous. Remembering this delicious pizza made me pretty convinced that it required a special talent that I just don't have.

WRONG! It's actually quite easy. So surprisingly easy, in fact, that not only did I make it for dinner for my brother and his girlfriend this past weekend, I'm making it when we have my parents and our priest over for dinner in a few weeks, and again for the second annual Christmas party at our apartment. Yes, I said there's a priest coming over for dinner. He's AWESOME.

Anyway. I'm going to break this down into easy bits. Don't be frightened.

THE DOUGH
(this makes one large pizza, two medium-sized ones, or four tiny-ass ones. If you're doing this for a party, make a double recipe)

1 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 cup tepid water
1 packet of active dry yeast (in the baking aisle)

1. Combine all dry ingredients and mix together in a bowl.
2. Form a well in the center and pour in the water and oil.
3. Mix gradually until you are able to pick up the dough with your hands.
4. Sprinkle some flour on your clean kitchen counter. Knead the dough for 10 minutes.
5. Form the dough into a ball, rub a little oil on the surface, and place it back in the bowl. Put a towel over the top. Leave it the hell alone for at least an hour so it can rise.*
6. Dough is ready when it looks like it has doubled in size and is sproingy to the touch. (Knowing when the dough is ready kind of freaked me out, but don't be scared. I found that it's very hard to fuck up dough if you just let it sit for 1-2 hours.)
7. Right before you're ready to use the dough, knead it for two minutes.

*When I say "at least," I mean go check on it after an hour. Yeast is very sensitive to temperature, so if your kitchen is chilly it will take twice as long. You can put dough in the fridge if you want it to stop rising but aren't ready to use it yet.

Are you scared yet? I promise, it's fun. Keep going.

THE SAUCE
Sure, you can just buy some sauce. But then you can't really say you made pizza from scratch, can you?

2 containers of Roma tomatoes (roughly 2-3 pounds)
3 garlic cloves, chopped up (ok, I cheated here and bought the minced kind, but I HATE cutting garlic)
a pinch of sugar
1 medium onion, chopped up
a pinch of dried oregano
salt and pepper to taste

This is where you can start adding your own flair. Just keep tasting the sauce through the process and if it tastes good, it's good! Now, I didn't exactly follow the procedure in the book because I bought fresh tomatoes instead of canned (which means they're usually skinned).

Here's what you do:

1. Cut the ugly butt off of all the tomatoes, and cut them in half. Dump them into your blender.
2. Pour in the olive oil.
3. Blend the fuck out of it, which won't take long.
4. Pour the sauce into a pan, and turn the burner on so it's halfway between the lowest and the medium setting. The sauce will be extremely watery, but you SHOULD NOT CARE.
5. Sautee the chopped onion and garlic in olive oil for just a few minutes in their own pan. Add a pinch or two of sugar. Don't let the onions get brown.
6. Add onions and garlic to the simmering tomato sauce.
7. Let the sauce simmer uncovered for at least an hour, I let mine go about 90 minutes. Make sure you stir it every once in awhile. You know it's done when it's nice and thick, not watery at all.

Honestly? The time it takes to prepare the pizza might be the worst part about it. Make the dough right before you make the sauce. It won't kill either to wait for the other to be ready.

THE TOPPINGS

There are no rules. Make shit up. Everything tastes good on a pizza. Even potatoes.

Some suggestions:

Margherita Pizza...
-get a chunk of fresh mozarella, and slice it generously.
-spread yer sauce on the dough
-pepper the hell out of the moz.
-cut up fresh basil and sprinkle on pizza AFTER it comes out of the oven.

Veggie Pizza...
-sautee zucchini, mushrooms, large chunks of red onion, garlic, peppers, shit - ANY veggie is good on pizza - in olive oil. Make sure you salt & pepper it. Drain the olive oil and cool the veggies before putting them on top of the sauce.
-I prefer veggies under cheese instead of vice versa, but that's just me. Veggies on top do look lovely.

Helena Pizza... (stolen with love from Mangia, my fave restaurant)
-use pesto instead of tomato sauce
-buy a jar of roasted red peppers, some feta, and shrimp (or skip the shrimp and go heavy on the roasted peppers if you're a seafood-phobe)
-spread pesto and garnish just like any other pizza, but make sure you defrost and de-tail the shrimp. Also, slice up the peppers into pinkie-sized slivers.
-Sprinkle feta e'rywhere on that mug because feta is mmmm-tastic.

Buffalo Pizza...
-buy Tyson Buffalo Chicken Strips, cook them in the oven for 1/2 of the directed time on the package (if you cook them fully and then cook them again on the pizza, the chicken will be dry as hell). Dice up the chicken.
-This is an instance where I'd put the topping ON TOP of the cheese so the flavorful buffalo coating gets a little crispy.
-Pour some bleu cheese dressing into a sandwich bag and snip off one corner. When the pizza is done, drizzle the bleu cheese over the pizza in an artsy manner. (Don't worry, it's impossible for it NOT to look artsy. It's homemade pizza!)

TECHNICAL STUFF

-Preheat oven to 400
-Preheat the baking sheet or pizza stone (I use a baking sheet and it works just fine) for a few minutes before you put the dough on it
-Sprinkle the baking sheet with flour before putting the dough on it

Rolling out the dough:
Yes, you need a rolling pin for this. Don't be silly and assume you can flatten it with your heavy-ass textbook or something. Don't roll out the entire piece of dough unless you're making one giant pizza. Each pizza gets it's own roll-job. The first pizzas I made were a huge hit, but I decided I didn't like how thick the crust was. I wanted something thinner. This is all about how YOU like pizza, and I guess you won't know if you want it to be different until you try it first. The second time I made pizza I rolled it out thinner and I'm much happier about it, though the First Try pizza testers loved the thicker crust, so...it's all a matter of personal preference.

-Bake each pizza 20-25 minutes. For the thicker crust, 22 minutes was perfect. For the thinner crust, only go about 15 minutes. You'll know it's done when the edges are slightly brown and the cheese is completely melted but not brown yet. If you're using a regular baking sheet, don't look for darkness on the bottom of the crust - it stays pretty white even when the pizza is definitely done. Don't be afraid to put in two pizzas at once if you have more than one rack. Just switch them halfway through so they get equal treatment, especially if your oven is an unevenly baking monster, like mine.

NOW. Aren't you a little less intimidated about making pizza? Or are you having a hearty laugh at my expense? I swear to god you'll feel so fucking accomplished when the first person groans your name and says "this is SO. GOOD." And they will. THEY WILL!

Oh, and if you're going to make pizza for party, don't stress about the fact that all of the pizza won't be done at the same time, because if you're making more than two pizzas, that will be your reality. View it as a tasting party, and I promise people will look forward to what they get to eat next.

Damn, I wish I had a picture or something. If you make pizza, I want to hear about it. The length of this post might make you question my assertion that it is in fact easy to make pizza, but I assure you I'm just verbose in general and I included some dialogue that was NOT included in the recipe book. Because I want you to be successful, you saucy little minx.

shameless self-promotion

Around this time last year I discovered a hidden talent: I can decorate the ass off of some Christmas stockings. Noe and I decided to give everyone stockings at our Christmas party - not only would we fill them with lots of sah-weet dollar store knickknacks, but we'd buy plain red ones and have at them with our crafty selves. I bought lots of felt, a glue gun, and some of those poofy ball things.

And now I'm wondering if maybe I could sell them. What do you think?

I don't know who exactly I'd sell them to or where I'd advertise. I suppose I could set up a website and link to it on the blog...to think I might already be able to use something I learned in the web design class! If I'm feeling really brave, I could send some pictures to a few bloggers who have websites dedicated to finding cool new products on the internet. Or is that ridiculous, because they're not that cute? Cute like your friend made them for you and you know it took her awhile but that's about it?

I like the idea that they could be custom made, say if someone had a daughter who loved trucks, I could make something like that happen. I could have standard designs to choose from, too. Hmmm. How do I decide what they're worth? What would you pay for one of these? (If you'd never buy something like this but you happened to receive one last year from us, please be nice and just give me an approximate value.)

I think now that I know my way around decorating stockings I could get even better and more complicated this year.

So? What do you think? If I'm outta my gord, it's your duty as my friend to tell me.

p.s. There are several people who are getting a stocking this year, including one who reads this blog. I hope you know who you are!

p.p.s. I'm hoping I haven't offended Noes because she made some dang cute stockings, including mine, which I love. I think I just...got into it more. Ok, fine, I completely geeked out on it and was really sad that stocking making season had to end. But here it comes again. I can smell it.

that was close

OMG! I totally almost forgot to blog today! Did I scare you? It's been a busy day, I guess. Lots of cleaning. My brother and his girlfriend came over for dinner and I made motherfucking homemade pizza, beotches! I am becoming the kitchen fucking master. I made the dough and sauce from scratch, and I also roasted my own peppers instead of buying a jar of them. And you know what? It was good. There were three - shrimp, roasted peppers, and feta cheese on pesto sauce instead of tomato, a grilled veggies and garlic pizza, and a margerita pizza with fresh basil and huge mozarella chunks. GO ME.

come a long way, baby

I just spent all of the Crate & Barrel gift cards that we got in one fell swoop. Half of what I spent was on Christmas tree ornaments, which I am extremely happy about, because I am all about Christmas and we're doing a tree this year. But I bought some expensive silverware that was $29.95 PER PLACE SETTING and I had the clerk go through such a hassle in finding them, going back for more, and general indecisiveness, that I ended up buying them all and I'm going to take them all back tomorrow.

But the lovely, cheerful, sturdy-as-fuck doormat is staying. So are the silver spoon rest and the fancy ornament hooks. Micah looked kind of sick to his stomach when I told him I spent it all. Then I unwrapped all of the amazingly beautiful ornaments and told him these would be the ornaments we'll have for the rest of our lives, the ones we'll hang with our children. So he's cool with the ornaments but the silverware has got to go back. I might hate our current ugly, cheap, and mismatched silverware but it sure as hell didn't set us back a few hundred bones.

I don't think I have enough street cred to be saying "bones" instead of "bucks." Hm.

p.s. Britney? Hi. You're looking fabulous. I know I said one time that I thought you and Kevin were hot together, but that's when you two were so new and you looked so happy. I was kind of swept away, too. Everyone could love you again.

-------------

Wanna see 13-year-old Micah with a mullet? Tee-hee!

(love my scanner love my scanner)

Ok, so it's a mini-mullet, but had he given this look another couple years it would've been full-blown. YOWZA!

Now, some serious cuteness:

Those cheeks! Oh my god, those cheeks.

Here's Micah with his mother, who was in a fatal car accident when he was four. I think she's beautiful, and I think he looks just like her. What do you think?

For those of you who haven't had the delight of seeing Micah's new haircut...

Wedding reception pictures coming soon.

And now, back to this contest. But there is no right or wrong answer. I would simply like to know your favorite term for a mullet. Everyone gets a point.

gag me with gauze

Hi.

I just got a tooth pulled! It's a tragic story, one that involves lots of money, little heath insurance, and a whole lot of gagging.

The short of it:
A year ago I found out I needed a root canal.
I had no dental insurance.
I got the root canal anyway to save my tooth.
I gradually paid off the $1200 it cost.
The dentist found out he was working on me without insurance and basically said "come back when you get some."
I've been going to this dentist since I was a baby. He was a close family friend before he became our dentist.
Mind you, he told me this even though he'd only put a temporary filling into the tooth.
Temporary = tightly packed substance that tastes and feels like masticated paper towels.
Filling disintegrated, tooth cracked, tooth worn down to scary nub.
If I smile wide enough you can see what's missing.
FABULOUS.
I get married and suddenly I've got health insurance.
I get teeth cleaned for first time in LONG time, two cavities are discovered (lil ones that can be sandblasted off! neat!) and I'm referred to a dental surgeon for a consultation about my mess of a tooth.
I get appt with dental surgeon, FUCK that's a frightening concept, but he turns out be a young, charming, hyper man who I immediately like even though I bet he's a TOTAL ASS outside of the office, like Dr. Reyes on Dr. 90210.
(Wait, wasn't this supposed to be the SHORT of it? Sshhhhh. Vicodin haze over here.)
He tells me all about implants and crowns and I'm totally sold. Another $1300? Oh, whatever. I fucking give up. I want my tooth back.
Except I don't want it $1300 worth right now. I have a wedding reception and a large credit card balance to be paying off.
But Mr. Nasty Tooth can come right out for $90! Done!
And I've spent the last two hours gagging. Something about the large hunk of gauze I'm obediantly biting down makes saliva pour into my mouth and my throat to close up and I almost hurled like ten times driving home and THANK GOD I had nothing in my stomach.
But now I do! Because they said I can eat soft things, I stopped and Steak 'n Shake and got myself a chocolate shake and some chili.
And while I was chugging the milkshake one of the ginormous Vicodins found its way into my mouth because I am just preparing. Foreshadowing. I see pain ahead. Also, a nap.

Oh, and maybe I don't want to stop the contest. Will you still play with me?
I SAID THERE WOULD BE A PRIZE.

Did I tell you I'm not supposed to smoke a cigarette for 24 hours? After a MAJOR DENTAL PROCEDURE. Something about it can unclot the clot that is clotting up the new hole in yer mouth.

Here's your contest question already because seriously it's getting hard to focus and I very much need to lie down. You know what? Nevermind. Can't do it. Definitely tomorrow.

my favorite tea

I'm not one of those people who does weird things like put milk in my tea. Milk in my favorite tea would be nasty.

If you want some excitement in your tea, look no further than Celestial Seasonings Red Zinger. It truly puts the zing in tea, and lemme tell you, tea needs all the zing it can get.

Here are the ingredients: Hibiscus (who knew it was edible?), rosehips, peppermint, lemongrass, orange peel, lemon myrtle, licorice, and wild cherry bark. Don't worry, you can't taste the licorice. I wouldn't love it if you could taste it. As someone who doesn't drink caffeine, this is the closest I get to a wake-up brew. CS also makes Lemon Zinger, which I like but I find it tastes too much like lemon peels.

Why am I getting tired of doing these favorites? I think it has more to do with struggling to find something to write about everyday and it's easy to think of things I love. Any suggestions?
And this contest thing? I can't get enough consistent participation to call it a contest. I hate to be a quitter but I just might have to stop the contest.

Tonight I will finally have my hands on the disposable cameras from the party, and also the memory card from my mom's camera. Elation. I'll put up all kinds of pictures very soon.
---------
Dear America:

Stop fucking calling it Missourah.

Love, Gabby

my favorite thing to do on a voting Tuesday

Vote, naturally.

My least favorite thing to do on a voting Tuesday is try to find a parking spot within 1/2 mile of our apartment because our area's voting place is the elementary school literally on our block. Why they can't use the huge asphalt playground as a parking lot, I dunno. I guess because kids might actually be playing on it. (That said, you should see what St. Louis city considers an adequate playground. So sad. A couple rubber balls and a few tires. Yes. Tires.)

Voting is, like totally my new favorite thing. Unfortunately during the last election I was living in a thoroughly blue state and they didn't need my vote as much as my home state did. It'll be very interesting to see what happens today in Missouri, which always votes for the winning president, but this time it's a local thang so all bets are off. As of last night the polls showed a lead for the Democrat, Claire McCaskill. The margin is frightfully tiny, however, which means people will actually go vote. Awesome.

A couple of other highly inflammatory issues are at stake in MO. Amendment 2, the Stem Cell Initiative, is causing all kinds of controversy locally and nationally. The always endearing Michael J. Fox brought our local issue to national attention, which is more blessing than curse, except when idiots like Limbaugh take cheap shots at an ailing man and make up lies about what Amendment 2 is all about - he'd have you believe it funds cloning, but it doesn't. I just looked it up for myself and the VERY FIRST LINE after the introductory paragraph says this: (a) No person may clone or attempt to clone a human being.

The second hot-button issue is the proposed increase in cigarette taxes to fund anti-smoking measures. Of course as a smoker I will be voting against this. They are suggesting a tax of 4 cents per cigarette - that's an extra 80 cents a pack, which sucks but not hard enough to make smokers quit. I realize smokers in other states are already paying roughly twice what we pay, so if it's passed I won't complain.

There's also a proposition to raise the minimum wage, which I'm pretty sure hasn't been increased for like 20 years. And they're raising it to a whole $6.50, those generous lawmakers! Ok, maybe I should read up on these things before I go criticizing them, because this proposition actually says that if the federal minimum wage is higher than $6.50, MO will match that amount, and "thereafter the state minimum wage will be adjusted every year based on changes in the Consumer Price Index." How about that. Progression.

----In Other News----

If you read this and know my husband Micah and you weren't at our wedding reception this weekend, you might be interested to know that Micah cut all his hair off last week. He thought his long hair looked terrible with his new suit. I had NOTHING to do with it. Really, I didn't. I was just as shocked as everyone else. But DAMN, my man is foyne.

Your contest question! A.k.a. the end of the political shtuff, because it really ain't my back of tricks.

Which state has the highest voter turnout (77.3% in 2004)?

a) Indiana
b) Montana
c) Iowa
d) Minnesota

Go! Vote!

my favorite game

I am addicted to board games. I heart them, love them, covet them, etc. They come in fancy forms (Scene It?) and very basic forms (Taboo) but they all provide a fun competitive atmosphere that usually stretches your brain in some way or another.

When I was thinking about my favorite game and forcing myself to narrow it down, this is what made Pictionary the winner across the board (pun definitely intended):

You don't have to draw well to be good at it.

You can play a slightly altered version where every single round is an All Play so that no one is bored for even a second, which is very important.

There's no advantage among any of the players. Ever. I've seen some artists draw very poor pictures and those with no real drawing talent draw one well-placed line and win the round.

It's a race against the timer AND the other teams. Time limit = frenzy = fun.

I'll also give shout-outs to Taboo, Scrabble, and Loaded Questions.

For some reason, I really want to be good at Taboo. The best ever. I don't know what that's about. Taboo is the perfect example of a game with profound advantage possibilities - if your partner in the game is your parter in life (or a really close friend) there are a million inside jokes to utilize for faster answes. Of course I love the advantage when I'm playing but I hate when someone else has it. That's why Taboo didn't win.

Scrabble is a word dork standby. I've been playing it with my dad since I was little, and let me tell you, he never let me win. Oh, no. My dad is so geeked out on Scrabble he memorized the wood grains on the back of the letter set when he was young. When we played, the Britannica three-volume dictionary set was always fetched and used by my dad as he verified that something like MARYZL is in fact a word. (He also never let me win at Rummy.) Now I can beat him every so often and it makes him mad, but I know secretly he's proud of me. And maybe a little worried about the Alzheimers.

Loaded Questions is a game best played with 3-5 close friends. The questions are hypothetical, and each person takes a turn asking the question to the other players who then write their answers down. The asker guesses the written answers and gets to move one space for every correct guess. It's totally a bonding experience, and you always learn something you didn't know about one of your darling friends.

----In Other News----

I'll post some pictures of the party AS SOON AS I GET SOME. Because we didn't hire a photographer, I'll be the last to see the pictures. Must get my hands on those twenty disposables PRONTO.

Now, back to this contest.

This one is kind of a repeat and you might hate me, but be nice to me. I've had major homework to catch up on today and little time to scour the interwebnet.

What do you call a group of giraffes?

(shut up! I really liked reading all the animal group names!)

1. a canopy

2. a tower

3. a blend

4. a spot

blog my guts out

I feel like I've been run over by a large hooved animal.

In other words, the party was fantastic! The best night of my life so far. Everyone seemed so genuinely happy to be there, which was touching. I think the only person that looked miserable was my friend Steph, who I rarely talk to anymore, but she's pregnant and she brought her very bored daughter with her, so she was dealing with some serious handicaps. Once my neice arrived she perked up. The little people love the other little people.

Many of the guests were my parents' friends, all of whom they've known for over thirty years, so these are the people that watched me grow up. They were all so kind, generous, and ready to smile. Most of my extended family came as well, which I was sort of worried about. We all see each other 2-3 times a year for the major holidays. I can honestly say there's one cousin around my parents' age that has never said more than "hi" to me. I really can't stand her and her consta-snarl face, but in this instance I had to be nothing but Miss Congeniality whether I liked it or not. Turns out I liked it! In fact, I was such a hyper, carefree hostess that I talked with everyone at least twice and actually enjoyed it. I have never ever been one for small talk, but dudes, I was a CHAMP last night. I really am proud of myself, because that type of social situation is painful for me. Okay, so I was totally liquored up by the end of the second hour, but whatever. I don't believe I made a fool of myself at any point. Hopefully.

Highlights & Lowlights

- You know what's really super fun? When you use a hairdryer while the hair straightener is warming up with both the sink and the over headlights on in the bathroom and you blow a fuse an hour before your wedding reception! And then? Right when you think it won't be a problem because you can just sit on the bedroom floor by the outlets and finish up your 'do, you discover that the power is also out where the computer is plugged in, and you haven't finished burning the four fucking hours of music for the party because your shit-ass computer decided to let iTunes malfunction and you think downloading the upgrade will fix it but you're not sure and now you can't even turn the motherfucker ON! Yeah! Good times!

- A crying spell, approximately five minutes long. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, GAB? Hmmm? Surely yelling at your husband will help!

- But what is this? A Christmas miracle two months early? The burner gets it shit together, albeit veeeery slowly, and all four hours of music are eventually recorded even though I was running 40 minutes late by that point. Micah was sent ahead of me with the vases so the centerpieces could be done.

- The place looked gorgeous when I finally got there. The dark silver chair ribbon thingies were lovely, and the pale blue hydrangeas were tinged with a similar shade. My parents and two of my favorite cousins from Texas were there, all smiles, all compliments and cheer.

- Oh god. Why are both of Micah's speakers in one room? One was supposed to go in the other room where I was told the bar would be, as well as cocktail tables. This is all wrong. ALL WRONG.

- Ok, ok, fine. I see that stretching the cord right across the main entrance wouldn't be smart. Because Americans have to be so fucking sue-happy, my speakers can't go where I want them. Wah. I think I stomped my foot once or twice.

- Bridezilla moment over! The bar is open! The bartender learns I am the bride at this here shindig and proceeds to pour me a vodka tonic so strong it would've inebriated a horse.

- Oh, yay! The bartender mixes up a fruity concoction in a pitcher and I am officially good to go for the rest of the night.

- My shoe strap breaks. Perfect! (I love you, ankle strap. You made it all ok.)

-And wow, the niceness. Everyone was so dang gracious. And the food was even better than it was when we did the taste testing.

- My 10 year old cousin asks me if there is going to be dancing and my heart falls into a messy puddle because I'm the Scrooge who was all "I don't want a dance floor!"

- It went by soooo fast. Whizzed right by me. I could barely sit still long enough to eat dinner, because I was on a mingling mission.

It was awesome. I got wasted and never had a hint of nausea. When we got home Saturday night I maniacally ripped open envelopes and marvelled at the generosity while Micah tore open boxes and held up shiny appliaces. I am more in love than ever, and seeing all those people together was really special.

That's all for now. My whole body aches. My thighs are extremely mad at me for not warning them that I would spend a good portion of the evening squatting as gracefully as possible next to guests so I could talk to them without hovering over them. They hurt so bad. The bottoms of my feet feel like they've been punched by a thousand little fists.

But other than that? I've never felt more happy or lucky in all my life.

and I feel fine

My favorite beer! Now we're getting somewhere.

The guy I was with before my husband was a great guy, I can't really say anything mean about him. Sure, he was supremely messy and couldn't cotton to the concept of having a boss, but all in all he was a really nice hippie. With a killer instinct for good beer. Before knowing him, I would be perfectly happy with a Bud Light, and thought Heineken was fancy. Oh, how my taste buds have transcended. Every time we bought beer it was something new and exciting, an experience. You know how those hippies like their experiences.

So basically he turned me into a beer snob.

Some things I've noticed about beer, though keep in mind in the grand scheme I'm a mere novice:

1. Very rarely do you want to drink a good beer out of the bottle.

2. It usually needs a special glass to allow maximum sipping pleasure. There's a very scientific explanation for these things, and I'm surely not the girl to be going there.

3. Speaking of sipping, you absolutely do not chug good beer.

4. A good beer doesn't go flat five minutes after you pour it.

5. A good beer has an alcohol content closer to ten than zero. It'll set you back a few bucks more than one Bud Light, but you'd have to drink two Buds for every good beer to get the same effect. The edge will officially be off within three good sips. Trust.

6. Good beer is VERY RARELY made in America. Try Belgium, Germany, Canada, Holland, and France.

8. Wait a second. Canada? The folks responsible for Molson freakin' Ice?

Ohhhh yes. The Unibroue Brewery in Chambly, Quebec (should I take a short pause while you giggle because it's probably pronounced "Uni-brow?") brews a fabulous line of beers and one of them has become my favorite. La Fin du Monde. The End of the World.

You won't find it at your local dive, I'm sad to say, but if you look hard enough you'll find it eventually. Or, if you're lucky, your local bar/restaurant has excellent taste and keeps it stocked and cold.

La Fin du Monde definitely has punch, but dare I say, it's a fruity punch. It's a party in your mouth. It goes wonderfully with just about everything on your plate. When you arrive at the restaurant (Mangia, in my case) absolutely starving, this beer can act as an appetizer.

You should try it sometime.

(I intended to go into more depth about the beer but then I realized I'm just spewing alternate ways to say "it's really good!" so I'll just tell you - it's really good - and let it be.

-----In Other News-----

This one is for Hei, who recently inquired if I'd had any experiences that made me certain I'd never have that experience again.

My husband drinks A LOT of juice. If I didn't write him a list when he goes to the store, he'd come back with Yoplait Chocolate Whips and eight large bottles of juice, usually grape (white and purple) orange, orange-pinespple, white cranberry, tomato, and sometimes he picks up some prune juice as well.

A couple weeks ago I saw a glass of grape juice on the coffeetable and walked right up to it and took a huge gulp. You can probably see where this is going.

Me: HOLY FUCKING SHIT! THAT is NASTY! WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE GRAPE JUICE?!

Micah: That's prune juice, baby!

Me: WHY. WHHHYYYY??

Micah: You don't like it? I find it so exciting!

Me: (incredulous) Exciting? It tastes like cleaning fluid and fermented ass!!

Micah: No, no. It's exciting. Every time I drink it I feel excited and energized.

Me: That's weird. Really weird.

But after I pondered the concept of an exciting juice experience, I realized that's exactly the way I feel about V8. I don't and couldn't drink it everyday, but when I do drink it...I kind of look forward to it, I guess. It's different...almost disgusting but actually pretty good.

That said, I will never, EVER drink prune juice again. Unless I am debilitatingly constipated.

Uh oh, I realized this is the point where I'm supposed to have a contest question. Can we skip that today? I'll give you three tomorrow or something. Tonight is our wedding reception and I'm so totally fucking excited it's comical. Also quite annoying to Micah because I've sat at this computer for HOURS trying to come up with the perfect music compilation instead of curled up on the couch keeping each other warm.

I realize the music is a background thing, some people might not notice it. I feel that music can bring our party to life, and I have even gone so far as to design the mixes so they'll be appropriate to the mood. The first hour is warm, inviting, and decidedly peppy. It takes a slower, jazzier turn when dinner starts. Toward the end of dinner it livens up, perhaps encouraging people to commence with the mingling. The fourth hour is upbeat, hopefully reflecting the good mood of those getting their steady drink on. Yes, I have thought too much about this, spent too much time agonizing over it, and it's almost to the point where I've heard the songs so much I don't enjoy them anymore. Still, I'm signed off without a contest because there is still a bit of tweaking to do, and in the next 30 minutes I hope to actually burn the fucking music to discs, already.

My favorite lotion

"It puts the lotion on its skin" has got to be one the funniest lines that never gets old.

Wait, wait. Can I say something first?

Only ONE PERSON wants to participate in my lil contest? Really? Hmm. Ok. Well I'll try it for another couple of days and see what happens, and it's quite possible that Sam, whoever he (she?) is, will be getting a prize just for giving it a chance. Be a joiner already!

Perhaps the idea of listening to me ramble about my favorite lotion sounds like the most boring idea for what you'll do in the next five minutes. Or maybe you love hydrated skin and want to hear what I have to say!

This lotion coup is brought to you by Origins.

A Perfect World lotion was given to me as a gift last Christmas. I still have it. Why in the world would I still have some if it's the best lotion around? Because it's the best lotion around! You don't go scarfin' down caviar, do you? You savor. (Or puke, I suppose, but you get the point.)

This lotion is in rotation with some mighty yummy peers, but it manages to surpass the abilities of the common (cheap) lotion so thoroughly that I literally look forward to using it again before I'm even finished applying it. It's best (as the directions will tell you) right after a shower before you're completely dry. It smells like peaches to me, but oddly enough that's nowhere in the description of the product, though it does use this phrase "this creamy-rich, aromatic oasis coddles body skin to noticeable smoothness." Um, yeah it does! Then it says "mimosa sleekens slacking skin-texture so it looks and feels more taut, more toned." I say, these hyphen-loving (ha!) Origins authors should win a poetry contest or something. The alliteration! The personification! It's enough to make me apply for their job.

At $30 a pop, I bet those Origins writers are bankin'. But you know what? Totally worth it. Then again, I didn't pay for it. But I will when it's empty.

------In Other News------

Have you ever had to tie itty bitty bows for hours on end? My eyes and hands, they ache. That's what you get when you decide to take the cheapest route possible and do favors for a party by hand. By yourself. Not that I didn't have options for helpers...I guess I saw it as a challenge, at the completion of which I could feel supremely accomplished. About tying little bows? Egads, girlfriend, have you completely oppressed the butch in you?!

(Shut up. I know it was only like 9% to begin with.)

On with the contest. My sad little contest. But YOU, yes YOU can make it happy!

(Also, I'm no longer going to moderate the comments. Cheat away. Whatever. And I think I'll try two questions a day instead of one.)

1. Who said this?

"The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up."

a) Louisa May Alcott

b) Martha Graham

c) Mark Twain

d) Mr. Rogers

2. What do you call a group of otters?

a) a bunch

b) a float

c) a scamp

d) a romp