Sometimes life gives your soul a hardy thumping. See the humor and wisdom in it, take the thrashing, then move on -- wiser, and only slightly more cynical!
"A prosthetic leg currently showcased in England at the National Centre for Craft and Design, was donated by a war veteran who fell in love with his physical therapist.
A note says it lasted longer than the relationship because it was made of sturdier material.' "
It is a novel idea, creating a museum showcasing, among other things, a garden gnome thrown at a husband...an axe smashing through furniture!
The museum says it's number of visitors on Valentine's Day almost double! Could be the broken-hearted or the Valentine-haters who would prefer to celebrate breaking up over googly-eyed sappy love stuff, or simply the curious among us.
I personally don't have a problem with the heart-shaped holiday, and I was even inspired to draw a heart on a piece of paper for Poseidon, taping it to the bathroom mirror. He appreciated the sentiment. So, whether you are pro or anti-Valentine's Day, this article is entertaining either way. Enjoy.
I adhered to a fast and hard rule (with a death grip) for many years: Do not make resolutions for the new year. Why? Because I, like many, chose to go for broke. I will be at the gym 5 days a week. I will cut down on my frivolous spending and put more money in savings. I will be nicer to people. I will give up diet soda because I don't want to be drinking formaldehyde. I will live greener.
Like most humans, I'm doomed from the get-go because these are vague, broad and H U G E promises I'm vowing to keep, predetermining my failure. The inevitable breaking of these resolutions leaves me feeling more like a walking emotional implosion than ever!
Having realized this, yet still possessing the urge to continue on my never ending journey of self-improvement, I have resumed with the resolution making, only I am keeping my goals modest and obtainable.
We can stop beating ourselves up. It's simple...we over-commit. Nearly 90% (I got that statistic from somewhere, but for the life of me, can't remember where) of those who make resolutions, fail. Let us all change that stat! Think big, sure (as in the big picture the future), but go small.
For example, I am fairly certain I will not give up diet soda (I don't mind a little formaldehyde in my blood)...but I can cut down. I can say with certainty that you will not see my behind in the gym 5 days a week this year, but I've been running an average of 3 days a week, and I can maintain that. I know I will not cut out all frivolous spending this year, but I can choose to allow myself a new pair of jeans for maintaining my weight! Me being nicer to people in general is never going to happen, but I will promise to go out of my way to be nice to those who don't piss me off.
Poseidon and I survived Christmas in Florida (78 to 80 degree weather isn't too shabby for December). We even went out fishing one day with the parental units. I caught nil, but Poseidon caught a sting ray and a small shark, both were promptly set free of course...we don't need dead sea animal karma on our hands. Catch and release.
Now, back to the grind. I have only a 3-day work week to endure, but I'm already whining in what is my usual fashion. I feel the need to post an after-Christmas-pick-me-up. I came across this image a few weeks ago and decided to save it to my collection of happy pictures for future use, and today is as good a day as any.
Today I may even attempt the futile task of scribbling out a New Year's resolution or two (I usually don't make resolutions, but my sister inspired me with hers, so why not), putting off the work that I actually get paid to do for an hour or so. Maybe less whining in 2012 should take the top spot on my list of resolutions? Now that just made me laugh so hard I nearly choked. The phrase, "save one's breath" popped immediately to mind.
Happy post-Christmas Tuesday cyber world.
Photo from Dan Stiles from Sharesomecandy (one of my favorite "happy" sites):
I think I now have Poseidon's cold, so this will probably be my last countdown to Christmas post (boo, I already miss Christmastime, and Christmas isn't even here yet).
Apparently, you can decorate anything you want for the holidays. Christmas...it's not just for trees anymore.
Decorate an entire house, trees, and yard (photo from mentalfloss.com):
Snow, snow, where are you? It's only days away from Christmas, but the temps outside are still going to be in the upper 60s, making it feel more like spring than Christmastime. Boo. To keep my mind on the holidays and my spirit basking in the delights of the season, I'm continuing my Christmas countdown series, and today I'm sharing a bit of couture de Noël.
Watching the cardinal feasting from our bird feeder on Sunday, the cardinal being decked out in his brightest red finery of the season, made me think of decorating the bird feeder for Christmas--I held that thought for only a nano second...any longer and I would have acted on impulse.
I can imagine our bird friends gathering at the feeder (aglow with tiny blinking lights, oh, and a wreath), enjoying their sunflower seeds, chirping about their decision to stay here for Christmas this year rather than flying south. Maybe next year I will festoon the feeder, but the idea did inspire me to search for Christmas bird houses this morning, and viola:
I think I've posted this every year for the past few years. It's a link to an article I wrote for Associated Content (now Yahoo Voices). A great list of TV Christmas specials we (Generation X) enjoyed as kids and still do today (Ok, at least I do)!
It is no secret that I'm caught up in the Christmas spirit this year, more so than in years past, and I'm trying to keep this train of cheer and goodwill toward man chugging forward, but it is also no secret that I'm a cynic, I'm convinced many people should undergo forced lobotomies, and I'm easily annoyed with stupidity; therefore, Christmas shopping in a public store/mall is a true ordeal for me.
Happily, I've done most of my holiday shopping online and have not had to endure many trips to public places where I'm more than likely to encounter rude, entitled miscreants. It is this lack of interaction with dimwits that has allowed me to keep my good mood and Christmasy cheer intact!
Because even the most conscientious of people, those who know the spoken and unspoken rules of what constitutes good behavior in a polite society, can become a subnormal dolt while out and about during this festive season, I want to remind everyone of a few Christmas shopping rules of etiquette:
If someone holds a door open for you as you juggle your purchases say, "Thank you." If I hold a door open for you and you do not say, "Thank you," I'm going to let you know that you didn't say it, and I will be sure to let everyone within earshot hear me schooling you in Christmas shopping etiquette.
Do NOT walk around in circles like a dimwit talking on your cell phone in the middle of a store like you would if you were home. Why? Because YOU ARE NOT AT HOME! You are in a public space where people do their shopping and they do not need, and most importantly, want to hear your banal conversation about...ANYTHING!
This could be lumped in with number 2, but enough impudent donkeys do this that it requires its own bullet...texting while standing in the middle of an aisle in a store as others are trying to shop around you is not acceptable behavior. What shocks me about this is most of the offenders I encounter are not teenagers, they are the moms of teenagers. I know you are trying to show everyone what a hip cool chick you are and that you have an iPhone (that your husband has to keep showing you how to use), but holding up other shoppers and forcing them to go around you isn't cool. Put it down, or go sit on a bench and text your bff. Maybe you think you can shop and text at the same time, but you CAN'T. I know, because I CAN'T!
It is the Christmas season, and people will be shopping, stores will be crowded and you are not the only one in the store. There WILL be lines at the registers, for the bathrooms, for food, etc. You are not entitled to ask others in line if you can go ahead of them. I was asked this a few years ago by a woman who was huffing and puffing and shuffling around in line because she was mad that she, Queen of the Land of Faux Fur and YSL Bags, had to wait. She asked me (in a very haughty manner) if she could go ahead of me because she only had 2 items and I had 4. I gave her my gargoyle stare for many seconds and said nothing. She slipped back to her place in line, didn't say another word and I'm sure she had nightmares about me that night.
If a sales clerk has done nothing to you, or has given you no reason to be a cad, then DON'T. Trust me, they don't want to wait on you anymore than you would want to wait on them. This also goes the other way around: Sales clerks, if I haven't been rude to you, don't be rude to me. Thank you.
Lastly...baby strollers that are 6 feet wide. Ladies, if you can't get a babysitter, and you don't have a small "appropriate for tight quarters" stroller, then stay home and do your shopping online. I don't mean to offend anyone with children, but the monstrous strollers that could double as freight haulers are not befitting for crowded stores. I was shopping in a small (and I mean S M A L L) gift shop once, and the owner of the boutique posted a sign just outside the door that said "No Strollers Allowed." Of course, an entitled, rude dragon-woman brought her stroller inside because that sign was clearly for everyone but her, and this stroller was so wide it wouldn't fit down the aisles. As I was looking at some cards, she stood there waiting for me to move out of her way and when I didn't, she started clearing her throat. I won't repeat what I said to her, but some of the other patrons actually clapped for me. Woman and stroller swiftly left the store. Please don't be rude and expect everyone to work around your rudeness.
That is all. I hope everyone is having a lovely Christmas season so far! Stay safe out there, and wear chain maille if necessary!
"Santa isn't real, it's your parents who buy you Christmas presents!" This came from my best friend's sister the summer before I turned 8 in the late 1970s. I thought she was being spiteful because we had cracked an egg over her head (it was hollow...the egg, not her head) which made her angry so she decided to spill the beans.
Telling a firm Santa believer that the benevolent jolly man in the red suit does not exist is the worst thing one could possibly do, at least it was to this Generation Xer at the time. I mean, we spent our youth during the Cold War, thinking we were going to be nuked at any second, so belief in something magical was more than a respite from harsh reality, it was a necessary tool in our arsenal of coping skills.
When I went home crying to my mother after hearing the shocking news about Saint Nick, she explained that Santa didn't really exist, and my twin sister and I shouldn't tell our younger brother yet, but it was still ok to believe in Santa if we wanted. Awesome, that is all I needed to hear. I could, if I so choose, still believe. I chose to believe.
That summer we moved and because we were upset over the move, we felt we were going to be "compensated" with better Christmas gifts that year. My sister and I wanted more than anything to be the proud owners of the humongous Barbie Star Traveler Van that Christmas. Even though the awful truth of Santa's "non"-existence had settled in, I still wanted to believe.
The problem: I obsessed (truly, obsessed, worried, stressed, puked, etc.) about Santa not being able to find us since we had moved, and someone else would get our Barbie van! I was anxious and crying that Christmas Eve at my grandparent's house and couldn't enjoy myself, until my aunt Marsha asked me what was wrong and I told her my fear of Santa not finding us.
Being the awesome aunt that she was (still is), she told me we would write a note to Santa, and set it on top of the flames in the fireplace, the heat from the flames would lift it to the sky and Santa would find us. What a topnotch plan, or so I thought.
Aunt Marsha couldn't find any writing paper, but she found a tissue. She wrote a beautiful note, giving Santa our new address. I was so excited I probably peed my pants. We took the note to the fireplace, she carefully set it atop the flames to be carried to the sky, but instead that piece of light-weight tissue disintegrated before my very eyes. OH MY GOD! NO! Doomed.
I'll skip the melodramatic episode that followed, because the story has a happy ending. My sister and I did get our Barbie Star Traveler van. It was waiting for us at home that night. Santa had seen Aunt Marsha's tissue note after all. The part that makes me smile is that I've moved several times over the last 20 years, but you know what? That mythical magical man in the red coat and funny hat always manages to find me. I'm glad I haven't stopped believing.
Check out the original Mattel 1979 commercial for the Barbie Star Traveller!
December 5th, and I have to admit, this perpetual cynic is still ensnared with the holiday spirit (which started so early for me, even before Thanksgiving Day)! I cannot say why I am so full of gladness, and perhaps there is more than one reason (having our awesome Christmas tree up helps), but I can't recall having been this excited about Christmas since childhood!
I've already blogged about my holiday giddiness in earlier posts, so I won't go into all that babble again, but my excitement is only growing because the complex where I work--a collection of historic tobacco warehouses--has decorated for the holidays in resplendent grandeur (eh, maybe those words are over-kill...but it does make me feel all warm and happy, inside and out), Christmas trees and red and silver/gold lights everywhere, and they pump Christmas tunes into the courtyard so when I leave in the evenings for home, I'm filled to the tip-top with pleasant vibes that not even my commute with the morons on the roads can bother me.
My web surfing habits over these past weeks have yielded some great finds, and I want to share them! Behold these funky, offbeat Christmas trees!
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