Awesome Resolutions 2010

(My last entry was my real resolutions for this year.  Here are my awesome resolutions for 2010, inspired by the trending topic of the same name on Twitter (I am @Kaydeb).)

I resolve that this year I will use the word "hump" more often.

I resolve that this year I will throw a glass of water in someone's face and say, "How dare you?"

I resolve that this year I will master a roundhouse kick, making my "Road House" reenactments more realistic.

I resolve that this year I will convince at least one new acquaintance that I am British.

I resolve that I will be horribly embarrassing to my children this year by belting out '80's power anthems at little or no provocation.

I resolve that I will say, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," at least twice a day.

I resolve that I will squint knowingly and nod when I don't know the answer.

I resolve that my prank phone calls will take up less of my leisure time.

I resolve to re-establish my amateur Goth status.

I resolve to assign different military rank to various body parts and promote the ones who please me.  The ones who do not will receive demotions and emotional exclusion.  Colonel Finger is pleased.  Private Pinky Toe is in despair.  That is as it should be.

I resolve to patronize more restaurants in which it is required to eat with one's hands.  It's good for the skin.

I resolve to learn to play a musical instrument that does not, currently, exist.

I resolve to nickname someone close to me "Chachi."

It's going to be a great year.

Resolved (Or, Deb vs. The Universe 2010)

It's hard to believe that this is the second New Year's Resolutions post I've written for this blog.  It doesn't seem like I've been blogging that long, but it is unmistakable: again, it is time to attempt to even the score between Deb and the Anti-Deb Forces in the Universe (ADFITU).


To update, here were my resolutions last year:


1. I will attempt to limit my Twilight reading.  


Happily, I can say I was successful in this one, to the point that I am down to re-reading the series once every couple of months or so.  Crossed off the list!


2. I will sing again.  Since having my children, I have been sadly neglectful of my voice.  I will stop telling myself that singing "Run Around" by Blues Traveler while driving counts as a warm-up.  I commit to warming up for 10-15 minutes daily, ceasing all caffeinated drinks, and only using my voice properly during teaching.

Sadly, this one will carry over into next year.  I have still been neglectful of my voice.  I have not ceased all caffeinated drinks.  Terrible.

3. No babies this year!  I had one in 2005 and one in 2007.  I will break the streak in 2009.   

Win!  No babies this year.

4. I will stop crying during the Sara McLachlan/ASPCA commercials, in which my daughter relentlessly points out "That doggy is sad, Mommy.  That kitty is sad, Mommy.  Where is the kitty's mommy?"  I will also try to stop crying when the news shows clips of people meeting celebrities, or when the fat woman wins on The Price Is Right.

Fail.  I cannot change myself this deeply.  Although I didn't succeed on this one, I'm not carrying it over.  I must accept what I cannot change, I realized the other night while weeping into my pork loin at Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede Christmas Show.

5. I will stop making excuses about not shaving my legs.  This will just make the occasions when I do it more special.

Another win!  I let my tresses flap proudly in the breeze this year, so I can cross this one right off.

So, my first resolution will be the singing thing, and we'll go from there:

1. I will get my voice back in shape this year.

2. I will cook at least two nights a week.  We eat take-out approximately 7 nights out of 7, which is terrible for our health and bank account.  I resolve to be proactive and cook at least two nights a week starting in January, my busiest month of the year.  I hope to increase that as we go on.

3. I will exercise at least twice a week.  My dear, wonderful Sven has moved the treadmill downstairs, so I can wake up early a couple of days a week and go downstairs and (hopefully) not wake up the children with my power walking.  If I do 30 minutes twice a week, maybe I'll be in good enough shape to do some hiking and physical things this summer.

4. I will write or edit at least 10,000 words a week.  NaNoWriMo taught me this year I can really produce quantity if I give myself a goal.  Quality is something else entirely.

5. I will go out on a date with my husband WITHOUT the children at least once this year.  So far, since Princess was born in 2005, Sven and I have been out without the children two times.  Once for my friend Mary's wedding in 2007, and once on vacation in 2008, when Momz came with us to Branson and kept the kids for a night so we could go out to dinner.  Now that Dexy is 2 and Princess is 4, maybe we can hire a babysitter and go out on a real date.  Our anniversary is June 5.  I've promised Sven something special this year.  We'll see...

I know I can do it.  I can feel it, 2010 will be a great year.  They say life begins at 35, right?  I can't wait.

Filling the Void

It has come to my attention that Tyra Banks, the arbiter of all that is acceptable and important in my life, is ending her daily talk show in 2010.

It doesn't matter that I have never, technically, watched her show.  I do watch The Soup, and without Tyra, Joel has roughly 15 of his 22 minutes to fill.  What are we to do?  Where will the American public go for self-promotion and congratulation masquerading as altruism?

Me.

That's right, my friends, I'm announcing that I, Deb, will be hosting the Folksy Deb Show, starting in 2010, or whenever Tyra retires.  I will step forward to lead you through the frightening void caused by Tyra's absence.

I pledge I will:

1. Make every show, regardless of topic, about me.  Example:

Guest:  ...and that's when I found out I have fourteen extra toes inside my intestine.

Deb:  Wow.  That's just like the time I found out Cool Whip wasn't real whipped cream.  I was        DEVASTATED.  (Audience nods and makes sympathetic noises.)

Guest: I had to have most of my lower intestine removed.  I can't eat solid food anymore.

Deb: Exactly.  Life just loses all meaning when you know that dollop of whipped cream on Mom's pumpkin pie is really just a pile of synthetic goo.  (Audience members now wailing into Kleenex.)

Guest: But-

Deb: No, it's okay.  I understand.  We all go through it.  Here.  (Forcibly holds guest to bosom, patting her hard enough to dislodge her glasses.)  There, there.

Guest: Ow.

2. Become increasingly shrill and defensive over every flaw.

Deb: Okay, it has come to my attention that several magazines have published pictures of me consuming an entire bucket of ice cream.  Also, there was a picture of me with no makeup and several tabloids are now calling me "Folksy Zit."  Also, there was the whole mustache thing.

Audience: (Murmuring in distress)

Deb: Today, I'm sending a message.  We're all flawed.  We all eat enough dessert product in one sitting to feed an East Asian village for a month.  (murmurs of support)  We all have pimples so large we count them as dependents on our tax returns.  (shouts of "You go, girl!")  We all have facial hair so dark and coarse it makes us frankly question our identity.  So what?

Audience: (Now shouting in support)

Deb: Well, it stops today!  You know what I say to all of you?

Audience: Say it!  Say it!

Deb: I just said it.  Stop it.

Audience:  Oh.

Deb: I'm sorry I was so harsh.

Audience: (silence)

3. Synergize.

Deb: Today on the Folksy Deb show, we have the contestants from this season of America's Next Great Novelist, the reality show that I host in which I convince beautiful and talented young women that the secret to success is looking constipated but sexy at the same time.

Audience: Yay!

Deb: And we're using the footage of this show for that show, and this is actually a challenge for them!

Audience: Yay, yay!

Deb: And this whole thing is being used for a scene in an independent film my production company is funding!

Audience: Yay, yay, wow!

Deb: And then I'm going to cut an album!

Audience: Wow, really?  You think you can sing?  Just because you have a TV show?

Deb: All right, no album.

Audience: Yay!

4. Become emotional and practice "tough love" when necessary

Guest: Deb, I know you can help me with my severe phobia of dust mites.

Deb: Listen to me.  Stop it.  You have no idea how hard my life has been.  I got a hangnail today right before taping, and did I quit?  Did I stop?  No, I'm here.  Yes, the taping was delayed for two hours while I sat in a dark room with a cold cloth over my eyes to distract me from the intense pain, but I'm here.  We're all here!  How dare you think that your fear is greater than your responsibility to this planet?  HOW DARE YOU?

Guest: Sorry.

Deb: That's okay.  Come here.  (Attempts to clutch guest to bosom)

Guest: No thanks.

Deb: You're afraid I have dust mites in my bosom, aren't you?

Guest: No, it's not that-

Deb: COME HERE!  (Chases guests off the stage)

We'll be right back...

Sven wins again!

I got Sven:

1. A remote controlled helicopter.

2. A tiny device called an "Eviltron" which randomly emits scary sounds and is now stuck to our refrigerator.

3. A pair of Stewie Griffin pajama pants.

4. A life-size Taun Taun sleeping bag with light saber zipper pull and intestine-printed lining.

Sven got me:

1. A firm chair-pillow so I can be more comfortable while blogging in bed.

2. A silver and mother-of-pearl heart-shaped locket with pictures of Dexy and Princess inside, which he printed, cut, and installed himself.

Sven wins again.  My gifts to him were hilarious, his to me were thoughtful and touching.

But I guess I win, too.  I hope you all had a merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas Eve!

 

Merry Christmas Eve!

War on Christmas

I love Christmas.  It's the most wonderful time of the year, I'm told.  However, there has been something bothering me about Christmas for most of my life, something that niggled and nagged at the back of my mind.  I assumed it was the oft-lamented "commercialization" of the holiday.  Recently, after a good deal of introspection and foot maintenance, it came to me: I actually like the commercialization of Christmas.  What I hate is the EMOTIONALIZATION of Christmas.

Holly boughs and wreaths of pine cones in October?  Sure!  I love it.  Piped in Muzak versions of "Sleigh Ride" right after the back-to-school sales have ended?  Great.

Song about the poor child who wants to buy a pair of shoes for his dying mother so she can be beautiful when she dies on Christmas Eve?  Not so much.  I LOATHE this stuff.  I mean, I really do.

Some of what could be called "emotional" Christmas fare is stuff I love.  There is a book by Fannie Flag called "A Redbird Christmas" that I really love and read every year.  I own five different movie adaptations of A Christmas Carol: The Muppet Christmas Carol, Mickey's Christmas Carol, Scrooge (the musical w/Albert Finney), A Christmas Carol (Patrick Stewart version), and Scrooged (Bill Murray).  I watch It's A Wonderful Life with great enjoyment as often as I can during the holidays; in fact, I have been known to cook a full turkey dinner and watch Christmas movies in July, just because I wanna.

That's fine.  Here's what I don't like:

I don't like Lifetime movies about how the magic of Christmas makes an emotionally distant and abusive parent or romantic partner suddenly perfect.

I don't like ABC Family movies about how the magic of Christmas helps some sad (but staggeringly beautiful) single woman finally find true love under the mistletoe.

I don't like Folger's commercials in which the magic of Christmas combines with the aroma of coffee to ensure complete peace among extended family.

I don't like "Very Special" episodes of cheesy sitcoms, in which a character sings "O Holy Night" and the husband and wife realize they shouldn't fight because It's Christmas.

But enough of what I don't like.

I love seeing my family.

I love dressing my kids up in festive holiday wear.

I love spending too much money trying to find something to make Sven say, "Wow!"

I love baking pumpkin bread and orange cranberry bread and cookie cakes.

I love lighting the Hanukkah candles at my cousins' house.

I love hearing Princess singing "Belize Knobby Nut"* along with Jose Feliciano.

I love the lights on all of the houses, including our own.

I love watching "A Christmas Story" 4 times in a row while my turkey cooks.

I love rolling my eyes when Princess asks if she can watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer "one more time and that's all, okay?"

So I just avoid that maudlin, sentimental stuff.  Christmas comes but once a year for several weeks, and it's just wasteful and unnecessary to waste it dwelling on what I don't like.

Oh, dang, there's that Folgers commercial again....


*Feliz Navidad

Family Newsletter

I wrote this as a joke for an online forum, but I liked it so much, I thought you would enjoy.  I would like to say that I love all of the family newsletters I receive, which in no way resemble this one at all, so please keep them coming!


-Deb


Dear Family and Friends,

First of all, I must ask that anyone receiving this letter not copy it and give it to others.  There are certain people who we do not wish to know our family's business, but because certain people get offended when I talk about the lawsuit, I'll leave it at that.

Despite last January's "unpleasantness," this has been a good year for us.  Alexis Star, our goldfish, was recently accepted into an accelerated obedience course at Pet-o-Rama.  Who knew, when we took her in because she was swimming on her back, that she was so gifted?  They are keeping her for a week, then we will go back to get her.  They promise she will be a whole new fish!  She might even lose some weight, which was good, because she was eating like 10 times a day, like a certain person who I cannot name but should get her due in court next March.

Our six children (Dakota, Carolina, Virginia, Washington, Kentucky, and Delaware) continue to do very well at their academic pursuits.  Dakota made it to level 28 of World of Blood last night!  Kentucky continues to do well in her music therapy class, and recently wowed our church talent show with her original song, "When I Kill Them I'll Be Free."  Children are such a joy, I keep telling Stewart that we should have another before we get too old, but he has taken a second job as a long-haul truck driver.  Between that and being a trans-continental pilot, it seems we never see each other.  It makes you think about how strange life can be: if you want to see someone, they're too busy, but if you never want to see someone again, there she is, everywhere you go, like a certain person I'm not allowed to talk about.  I don't care what she told you, I was in Wal-Mart first.  I know my rights, even if there is a "restraining order."

You'll all be happy to know that my medical issues have gotten much better this year.  Because of some complaints about last year's letter, I'll limit the details, but I'll say this: it finally drained.  What a relief!  Like not seeing a certain person who shall remain nameless but you all know who I'm talking about.  If you want more details, e-mail me, but don't share my e-mail address with anyone, for obvious reasons.

I have been doing our usual holiday decorations this year.  I started putting lights up in September, since the homeowner's association lost their lawsuit over last year's display.  I hope the next one goes as well!  My "Winter Wonderland" yard display has been a big hit again this year.  I don't know why everyone's nativity scenes don't include Shrek, the donkey goes right along with the story!  Fortunately, my last neighbor moved two weeks ago, so there's plenty of parking if any of you want to stop by!  Just don't bring along you-know-who.

Of course, no family newsletter would be complete without a mention of Samuel Gompers, our kitty.  After an attack of anxiety last summer when Kentucky went off her meds for a little while, Gompers has been on Valium, which has helped him enormously.  He stopped using the litter box, but I know it's just his need for self-expression.  After the you-know-what is over, I should be able to spend more time with him.  I'm sure he just misses his mommy!

I can't wait to hear from all of you.  Several of your letters were returned to me last year unopened, so I can only assume you guys have moved and forgot to tell me where.  I'll be tracking you down, though!  Have a happy holiday season!

Me

Holiday Gift Guide

It's that time again, when I have to buckle down and make the most important decision I make twice a year: what to get Sven for Christmas.

He is impossible to shop for.  He doesn't care for gadgets, so I'm out there.  If he does find a gadget he likes, it becomes welded to him for at least a decade (thank you iPod touch!).  He hates it when I (or anyone else, for that matter) buy him clothes.  He has hobbies: he fishes, and then cooks what he catches.  But I can only give him so many bags of wood chips, and I hate to give a gift card.

So, here it is: Deb's Gift Guide for the Dude You Can't Shop For.  Here is a comprehensive (not at all) list (in the sense there is more than one item) of terrific (if we're being very loose with the language) ideas (things I am clinging to as my last hope) for last-minute (less than two weeks left) gifts (whew).

1. A ribald t-shirt.  Nothing says "I love you" like a t-shirt emblazoned with a stormtrooper sitting on a toilet.  Thanks to my recent subscription to the "I Love Movies" podcast, I have a code to get 20% off my order at Donkey T's (put "MOVIES" in the coupon code box).  (Warning: ribaldry contained therein.)

2. Specialty food items.  Nothing says "I love you, Grandpa," like a Hickory Farms Sampler.  For the hubs, though, I have to kick it up a notch.  I need to get him something he either needs to wrestle to a draw or set on fire before eating it.  Two words: ostrich meat.  Imagine the conversations he can have!
  
     Sven: So, have you had ostrich?

     Hezekiah: No, can't say that I have.
  
     Sven: It's all right.
  
     Hezekiah: Yeah?
  
     Sven: Yeah.
  
       Silence.

You're welcome.

3. A ridiculous toy that he will admire in the abstract but never actually use and/or give to the children.  I admit this is the route I usually go.  Last year's present, an interactive voice-activated R2D2 robot, has been in a box in our dining room since last January.  (The year before, I gave him a son, which has been somewhat more successful.)  This year, I am frankly out of ideas for useless toys.

     A GPS?  Maybe, but I just don't think there is room in the drawer with the PDA, pocket-sized digital camera, electronic organizer, and, I believe, a slide-rule.

He already has an iPod.

I now share with you the coolest online shopping site ever: I Want One of Those.  This site has grown up toys for every taste and budget level.  It's a British site, but don't despair: most of these gifts are available in the U.S.  It's great for getting ideas.

I've got a few right now...