Ok, Ok....

So I blogged a lot today.

But this, this is so worth it. (Maybe.)

So tonight, like, just a few minutes ago, I was making T and J (who are two years apart in age, and have great tales to tell because of this) tell me stories about when they were children.

J (who has grown up to be a bit bigger than his big brother) mentioned about how when they were very small, he would ride on T's shoulders, making their combined height no more than J's current height. (About 5'10) To make things more fun, they would don a Ghost*busters sleeping bag, completely zipped around them. J would look out the little hole like gap at the bottom of the bag, where the zipper starts. (you know what I mean.)

They then told me about what made them decide to not do this any more--J would yell directions at T, who was supposed to follow them. At one point, T decided that 'left' meant 'right', tripped over the bed, and launched young J face first into the window sill.

I told them that I would pay good money to see J ride on T's shoulders now.

And mayhem ensued.

See photos for evidence.



Note the thrilled expression on both their faces. Also note J's work uniform, T's pajamas, and our roomie's killer tattoo in the background.

Reciprocated:



You may not find this as hilarious as I do. But oh, did I laugh. There were tears I laughed so hard. Tears.

Less Cranky

Ok, I ate something and now feel less like stabbing someone. Even if I did go read the link on Circe's blog about the dipshit who says that Santa is actually Satan's emissary on earth and all his reindeer are gay (Queers, actually, is the term he uses) which made me have a small aneurysm, I think.

(Seriously? Santa isn't real. So if Santa is fake, but he's Satan's buddy, what does that say about Satan? Hrm? Either he doesn't exist or he has imaginary friends. Also, the reindeer being gay. Really? Really. There aren't words.)

I thought I would post photos from Christmas.



First off, here's me, with no makeup on, wearing T's HS graduating class sweatshirt (aka my pj's) preparing to open gifts a few days before Christmas proper. We were leaving our roomie behind for the actual holiday itself, and wanted to be able to open presents with him as well. Hence the early Christmas.



Here is T, in full throes of glee at seeing what I got him for Christmas. (I am a good gift giver, if nothing else.)



Here's T's brother J, realizing that Santa (The Gay Reindeer Captain) gives gifts that aren't always fun. For instance, TV screen cleaner, as seen here.



This is Christmas Day. T's baby brother, the youngest of the whole bunch, A, is crushing the holiday spirit right out of me.



Here's T and me, trying to pretend that we aren't sleep deprived and irritated.



T is here helping his baby cousin be Spider Man to the best of his abilities.



And, in closing, a Filipino man shoveling our car out of the snow. Because it's funny. (This is T's brother in law, R. Not just a random passer by. We know and love him, and not just because he shovels our snow. I also get a huge kick out of the fact that in current family photos in T's family you can easily pick out the 'interlopers'--Those of us that married in. The tall red-head and the Filipino guy in a sea of Italians. At least we know we will all have cute kids.) (I sound really racist. I'm not. Promise.)

Uuuugh

So, you know how I said that I was feeling better for taking the liquid medicine and sleeping? How my nose was killing me but that I thought I was on the mend?

Lies, all mother fucking lies.

I feel like complete and utter crap. My nose is less angry, sure, I can breathe, but my ears are totally plugged up, I'm all hot and listless and cranky and generally ill and not fun to be around.

I assume this means that I am on the mend, my complete and utter lack of friendliness or patience or kindness of any sort.

I realized how shitty I must look/act/sound when I looked up to find T, fresh off of a night shift of work (read: Done at 5 this morning) cleaning the house without complaint or my having to ask. This means that he feels really bad for me. Or that he doesn't want to see me sob in my kitchen again. Or use hand sanitizer 20394585 times while emptying the dishwasher. (Because I'm nothing if not conscientious of other people.)

A good friend of my dad's passed away this morning. He essentially drank himself to death. His wife was a horrible, evil harpy of a woman, who, in my opinion, had a lot to do with his death. But mostly, and this is weird to most people, I am not sad that he has died. I feel like it's a blessing--he isn't sick anymore, he isn't dealing with his horrible wife. He had no quality of life, at all, really, and now the pain and sickness is over.

I'm just a ray of fucking sunshine today. I'm thinking seriously about going back to bed. I'm eating zinc lozenges like they are candy, drinking gallons of tea, putting layer after layer of lotion on my nose and trying to stay warm. It's not helping. And I'm really pissed off about it.

Happy New Year.

New Year....

Happy end of 2008, kids.

All told, 2008 was not a bad year. Sure, bad shit went down, (but this is me we're talking about here, what do you expect?) but all in all, not bad.

2009, however, better rock my damn socks or I am going to have words for the universe.

I am getting married in less than 7 months. I found a photographer I love, and I am hoping, fingers crossed, that they are 1)reasonably affordable 2)not assclowns 3)available.

Currently, I am sitting on the couch in my bathrobe, my nose threatening to tear itself off my face in order to get a better angle for bringing the pain to me. Stuffed up, wiped raw, forcing sneezes out of me (when there isn't just the huge sneeze lead up and then.....nothing. I HATE THAT.) and making sleep all but impossible.

After openly weeping in my kitchen yesterday morning from face pain and sleep deprivation, I made J go to the store to get me some Night-time liquid cold medicine. Which I then took a long pull off of and passed out. Slept for 11 hours, and felt much, much better for it. I plan on doing the same thing again tonight. (Because nothing says "Happy New Year!" like an over-the-counter-induced coma, right?)

T has to work tonight, so he will be ringing in the new year all alone, standing in the kiln control room, hating his coworkers.

Anyway, it doesn't seem like a holiday today. All I know is that I'm looking forward to messing up my deposit slips at the bank for the next three months. (I wrote 12/31/2007 on one today....I better get my shit together.)

Well, happy new year, readers. May 2009 be happy and prosperous to us all.

In Lieu of Christmas

How to play:

* Answer each of the questions below.
* Surf over to Flickr and type your answers (one at a time) into the search bar.
* From the choice of pictures shown only on the front page, click the one that moves you
* Once the page with your picture opens, copy the URL.
* Surf over to the Mosaic Maker, set up your mosaic, and paste in your URLs.
* Click “Create!”
* Save the image, upload it to your favorite picture site (if it’s not Flickr), and blog away.


The Questions:

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you attend?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. What is your favorite drink?
7. Where would you go on your dream vacation?
8. What is your favorite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. Choose one word to describe you.
12. Your Flickr name?

Holiday

If given the opportunity, I would gladly, at this moment, punch whoever made the executive decision to NOT PLOW the city directly in the face.

This city has 11 plows. Nine of them are at the airport. NOTHING is plowed, the roads are horrible, and people are morons.

This is a city that is not ok with snow, and they are acting like it.

I have photos, but I'm not uploading until I get home. Currently I am using the slowest laptop on the planet, which belongs to T's oldest brothers girlfriend, while sitting alone in the family house. Well, the cats are here, but I don't know that that counts.

Anyway, have a Merry Christmas. Be safe, be warm, and punch a road crew executive in the face for me.

Save the Driveway

We spent all day yesterday shoveling the driveway. (read: All day=About 2 hours in screaming wind and really cold temperatures)

Shortly after we finished, it started snowing again. Thanks, nature.

I have photos of the hilarity-T using a drain spout cover (you know, the things you put under your gutter drain to make the water a river out into the yard rather than a driving drill like stream?) to move the majority of the snow, the wind hurling large clumps of snow back upon us, T intentionally hitting his baby brother J in the back with five pound clods of snow.

Oh, did I mention that we were all in our jammies with snow boots and hats on while doing this? Only the highest of class over here.

Anyway, the boys are out shoveling again. It's warmed up considerably, making the task easier in that the snow isn't adhered to the concrete by a layer of ice, but harder because now the snow weighs three times as much.

Being that T explodes every time he sees me do anything that could start to be considered physical labor, I am sitting in the house, drinking coffee, blogging and watching Anthony Bourdain. There are worse things.

**************************************************

No one in our house has been sleeping well. T keeps falling victim to the sore ear--the cause of which is sleeping on your side at a weird angle. I have been falling victim to sleeping in weird angles at all times, making my arms fall asleep, my shoulders hurt, my neck hurt, and, most of all, my hips hurt.

I wake up angry and limping toward the coffee pot, reaching for a tylenol back. (Yes, I eat something with the tylenol. I promise. Pills on an empty stomach nearly killed my mommy(well, hers wasn't just empty, but void of anything non-liquid if you catch my meaning) so know better. Promise.)

It doesn't make for a happy household, A cranky from waking up every two hours for no reason, T clutching his ear and demanding answers from the pillow, me staggering around with creaking joints.

It also doesn't help that no one has left the house for days. Like, at all.

Hopefully that will change today. Hopefully the weather is DONE.

Oh, and Brian? It has snowed every year that I have been back here. (Three.) I think it snowed maybe five times here when I was a child? Yeah. (I'm sure it was more than that, but definitely not every year.)

Sigh.