About Nuts

Congrats on surviving through the end of the world.  I imagine that since it's only 11:45pm, I still have 15 nail-biting minutes to get through, but I'm feeling pretty confident that my 10 year old potato pearls will yet again fail to see the light of day.

In celebration of the possibility of dying, a well-connected friend and her daughter treated Emersen and I to Ballet Arizona's Nutcracker.  Who else would I want to spend my last night of human existence with than my friend and 2000 strangers?  We can all fight over gum and linty Werther's originals when we hear the asteroids starting to land.

I LOVED it.  The ballet, not the Apocalypse   Emersen liked it.  Not enough to deserve an underline, but enough that she would be willing to see it again next year ("why does the plum girl dance so long?").

It was the Nutcracker on crack (ha!) i.e. the mice threw in some Thriller moves and Mother Ginger was most definitely watching Gangum Style on his phone while waiting in the wings.  Mr. Sexy Lady would have been proud.  No joke.

Speaking of Nutcrackers, one of my most favorite family members brought this little nugget to a white elephant party.

Hillary-arious.  

Made that one up myself. 

Could you eat any nuts that came from between those legs?  I can't.

We all knew I'd fail at my countdown

Some over-zealous yahoo at Target thought it would be a clever idea to partner up with Neiman Markus.

Dear Over-Zealous Yahoo:  

Target is where I purchase my q-tips for $.20 less than Fry's, hangers for $.25 less than Big-Lots, and Rubber Maid bins for $2 less than Lowes. 

Target exists solely for the cheapskate who likes to buy the occasional purse on clearance while crossing off tampons from her list.  

I inquire this - who did Target have in mind as their target audience (that's funny) when it signed the contract to sell clothing designed by Tracy Reese?  (who btw designed this jacket, I want it I want it I want it, and will only cost me 15 plasma donations)

The frock in question

Priced at

 

Marchesa's name graces this dress

As well as her price point

No Target customer I know would ever purchase a hideous, 5 lb be-jeweled shirt for $80, or a $100 white (white!) dress for their 4 year old.  That's about 4-5 plasma donations each.

And "Hand Beaded" doesn't evoke a sense of worth; I only imagine the severely under-paid 14-year-old in Indonesia.  

I look forward to seeing the above merchandise on the clearance rack, because we both know you're not moving many of these puppies at their current pricing schedule.

Sincerely,  

Bewildered

Countdown Day 3

I'm on a roll people.

For the past 4-5ish years, our family has kicked off the holiday season by doing a bit of ornament procuring.  The kids each pick out an ornament to their liking, with the minimal condition that it may not be bigger than my outstretched hand.  The winners this year:

My children fill their gender roles so effortlessly.

When they're grown, they'll take all their ornaments with them to hang on their own trees.  My hope is that they'll remember the wonderful family memories we've created each year picking out our tree's eye-candy.  I imagine their reminiscing will go something like this:

Asher:  Hey Emma, remember when you got this ballerina ornament?

Emma: Yeah, it almost didn't satisfy mom's hand ruler requirement.  Didn't I get that at Michaels?

Asher: No, I think it was Joannes.  Michaels wasn't 50% off that week.

Emma:  Oh yeah.  But, wait, what about your tractor ornament?  I thought that was from Joannes?

Asher:  Nope, wrong again.  That was the year mom forgot to take us, and Hobby Lobby was the only store that still had ornaments in stock in February.  But your snowflake was from Michaels.

Emma:  Umm, I'm pretty sure that was from World Market.  If I remember correctly, Dad was working that night and Mom needed a mixing bowl, so we picked up our ornaments at the same time.  She had a coupon or something.

Asher:  That's right!  Isn't that the year we didn't put the tree up till Christmas Eve?

Emma:  No, that was the year she told us we'd go see the Temple lights and get hot chocolate, but we just ended up driving around a few times in our cul de sac drinking some warm capri-suns that were about to expire.

Asher: I think she had a girl's night out planned that night.  

Emma: Ah yes, the true spirit of Christmas.

Such sweet, sweet memories.

Countdown Day 2

Flee at once and go purchase yourself a box of these tanned, cheerful men-folk.

 



Upon receipt, please report back that you, as well, fell victim to consuming these stout little boys by the fist-full.  This December, let's celebrate elastic waistbands and empire shirts.

Countdown Day 1

In theory, it sounds like a superb endeavor; however, I'm acquainted with myself well enough to know that I will most likely fail, hard.

But alas, I'm giving it a go.

Hello neglected blog and 12.5 readers (.5 for the one of you that's pregnant).

For you, my sweets, is a holly-jolly get-you-in-the-mood-while-it's-87-degrees-outside countdown to Christmas (forget the hot chocolate, who's up for a Slurpee?)

Check it -

Ugly Sweater Christmas Party 2012

This baby did NOT take home the grand prize.  Surprisingly, there were attendees clothed in sweaters as awful as my own, and mine has peppermint swirls for buttons.

A recount you say?  I agree.  We're puzzled.