I Checked This List Twice

Merry Christmas!

It was a wonderful day. Rigel and I are flat broke, our house is a mess and the girls' teeth are falling out from too much candy, but we had a good Christmas.

Here is Kiyomi's Wish List. Between her and Kira they received items 1, 3, 4, 7. 8, 9, 13, and 19 from various family members. their lovely parents and SANTA.

Item #14 was so vague, Rigel and I just bought some CDs for ourselves.

We buried #18, and now we can't find it.

But item #11! How could we have overlooked this??!!

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Everyone Is Getting A Lump Of Coal For Christmas

Oh dear.

I just did this again.

Only this time it was worse, because it took me two hours to realize it, and only then because I saw myself in the mirror.

I had put them on to take the girls to school this morning (so no one would recognize me. Because I hadn't brushed my hair. Or my teeth. Or changed out of my pajama top.) After I got home things got kind of chaotic as I attempted to eat breakfast while at the same time doing a flyer for a school fundraiser and answering the phone which seemed to ring every .01 seconds. I had to hurry because in a couple of hours I had to run out and buy enough food to feed seventy-five people at a banquet that I'm helping out with tomorrow.

Did I mention I'm taking the girls to a holiday show that my nephew is performing in tonight? Oh, and there's the school fundraiser tomorrow night, the school holiday show on Thursday (two separate performances for Kira, since she's in orchestra), two classroom parties on Friday, ice skating Friday afternoon and the girls friends' are coming over Friday night!

And a party to go to on Saturday, for which we have no sitter yet!

Did I also mention I have bought only two Christmas presents?

What was I talking about? Oh yes! The Sunglasses!

Is this the least of my worries? Do I sound panicked?

Hey! It's dark in here! Who turned the lights off?!

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Conversations From Hell

When attempting to purchase a Gameboy at Target:

Me: What color is it?

Target Lady: There's a sample (pointing to silver display model.)

Me: Great. I'll take it.

Me (just before handing over my credit card, JUST TO BE SURE): This is silver, right?

TL: No, it's grey.

Me: I thought you said it was silver, like the display.

TL: We're out of the silver. We only have grey and blue.

Me (head spinning): Uh, okay. What does the blue look like?

TL: It's JUST BLUE. Oh, and we have grey.

Me (hoping that Ashton Kutcher will jump out to tell me I've been Punk'd): Do you have a sample of the blue?

TL (Absolutely convinced that she is being helpful): I bought one for my sister, so I know what it looks like.

Me: Oh, then give me your sister's number. Then, have her upload a JPEG of it to my cell phone. Lastly, explain to me when you got your degree in ROCKET SCIENCE.

Ordering Chinese food:

Me: I'd like the Orange Chicken, but not spicy.

Takeout Guy: You want it mild?

Me: Yes, mild. It's for my kids.

TG (getting agitated): What does mild mean? People call, they ask for mild, not so spicy! This doesn't make sense! What does MILD mean? Not SO spicy? Not spicy? This is confusing to me!!

Me (afraid ): Uh, mild to me means NOT SPICY. I guess if I wanted it not SO spicy, I would just ask for Just A Little Bit Spicy.

TG (practically SPITTING now): So what are you trying to tell me? Mild? Not So Spicy? People use these words all the time! It makes no sense!

Me: (hoping that Ashton Kutcher will jump out to tell me I've been Punk'd): I would like my Orange Chicken NOT SPICY.

TG: You mean No Hot?

Me: Yes! Yes! That's it - NO HOT!

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Mature

Rigel and I have this routine, where once we take the final steps out of the girls' rooms after putting them to bed we collapse on the couch heaving big sighs of exhaustion and exasperation. You would think we had just done an triathalon, until you saw my thighs. Then we proceed to turn on the tv and channel surf for the next half hour or so, thinking this is just the thing to give us the inspiration to get up and get to other more constructive things like blogging or reading People magazine.

The other night as we clicked through an unsually dire selection of cable offerings we came upon a movie titled 'Man and Boy.' Surprisingly, this was not a Michael Jackson biopic but a western-themed movie from the 70's starring Bill Cosby. I was just about to change the channel during a particularly painful scene between a very serious Bill Cosby and a woman in bad Indian garb when Rigel remarked that he recognized the actress:

Rigel: She looks familiar. I think it's that woman from 'Will and Grace.'

Me (astounded, not only for the reason that he barely tolerates my late-night viewings of 'Will and Grace'): That's not...Omigod! It IS her. You recognized her? This is shocking. You are usually so bad with faces.

R: Excuse me? I'm good with faces.

M: No, you are SO bad with faces! That's your thing! In fact, you should change your name to 'Bad With Faces.'

R: Sheeeit. Aren't you the one who THINKS she's always seeing celebrities at Target?

M: But I do! Because I'm GOOD WITH FACES. You, on the other hand, never recognize ANYBODY, even if you've met them a gazillion times.

R: That just means I'm Bad With Names.

M: No, that makes you Bad With Faces. AND names.

R: Good god, woman. I'm going to bed.

M: Yes, that's right, run, run away, 'BAD WITH FACES!'

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'Thanksgiving, Part 2' or 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go'

I just realized I never wrote, 'Thanksgiving, Part 2' because I'm so tired.

It's the post where I was going to talk about things other than the trailer-park grub, my psychotic behavior and that whore, Martha Stewart. It's the one where I would talk lovingly and not sarcastically about my family and how grateful I am for them and even though we see way way too much of each other I still look forward to our get-togethers and how awesome it is that Kira and Kiyomi are growing up surrounded by such a big, loving extended family.

I would go on and on about how proud I am of my nieces and nephews and how they are growing up to be amazing people and all seem to have an obnoxious, sarcastic sense of humor that runs in both Rigel and my families. I would get all teary-eyed when I recount how the older kids all take such good care of the younger ones and I would start to cry real tears of joy when I think of all the free babysitting coming our way. If I wasn't so tired I would post a picture of my two nieces, Allie and Beth, who were flower girls at our wedding and who are now beautiful college girls who spend alot of time at these family gatherings bemoaning the absence of any boyfriends and how, at 21, THEY JUST KNOW they are destined to die alone in an apartment filled with cat poop.

I would be embarrassed to admit it but I would confess how we all still crack each other up with moronic jokes and truly think that taking photos of each other sleeping and drooling is high comedy. If I weren't so sleep-deprived I might be able to recount word for word the conversation that took place between my two brothers that sounded like something out of a Woddy Allen movie, about being a cheapskate and buying things that originally cost $50 but are marked down to $30 and not ponying up the extra $20 for our gift exchange and how IT'S NOT IN THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT TO BE SO CHEAP, and ended with my brother exclaiming IT IS NOT THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS!!!

If I could stay awake long enough I would go into detail about my brother's future in-laws who are all wonderful people but I think are a little freaked out by my family and all the trash-talking and bathroom humor. I would definitely want to tell the story about me and two of my sister-in-laws and how we were joking, rather convincingly I now see, about drinking LOTS OF WINE and then pretending to drink right out of the bottles, you know, to WASH THE CRACK DOWN, and laughing kind of maniacally and how one of the future in-laws said to me, rather worriedly, later on, "I see you like to drink LOTS OF WINE." I guess I would try to convey how guilty I feel about possibly making my brother's future in-laws think that their daughter is marrying into a family of alcoholics, drug addicts and low-brows and how they may be right about at least two of those.

Really, I wish I could write about these things but I have to go take a nap.

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