Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Tumbleweeds



I'm still looking for some random crap to write about. Unfortunately, this holiday was void of any family get-together disasters. Actually, it was probably one of the better Christmases because a bit of family drama has finally been left in the past.

The only interesting thing that happened, happened on Christmas Eve--my sister and I were driving to the gym to get our workout on (you know, to prepare for all those cookies we were about to eat/already had eaten/it didn't matter anyway because I still gained 5 pounds). The wind was unusually strong for West Tennessee, maxing out around 40mph. We passed a graveyard on our left when...all of a sudden...a tumbleweed shot out in front of our car! I slammed on the breaks and we both screamed.

"What the heck was that!" I said, flashing back to Fival Goes West.

Katie looked back and started laughing.

"It was a flower thing from the cemetery!"

No sooner had she said it that a Thanksgiving colored bouquet rolled out in front of me. I swerved to miss it, only to run over a poor little scarecrow lying in the middle of the road.

"I just ran over a scarecrow!" I shouted. And we burst out laughing again. "Poor thing! That's sad!"

Every time I hear the word scarecrow I think of my dad--that and the Wizard of Oz. Come to think of it, my dad's nose kind of looks like the Scarecrow's. It's not red; it's just big. And its okay for me to say that because he makes fun of my mom for having a pineapple sized head.

On Christmas Eve my family always goes out to eat and to a movie. Afterwards, we come home, decorate Christmas cookies, open one present, then watch movies. This year, instead of watching a movie right away, we decided to play Loaded Questions--a game that has a headline which reads: "Expose Yourself." Probably not the best game play with your parents.

Everything was all fine and dandy until we got to the last question: "What is your most annoying habit?"

"Oh," my mom said. "well your dad has a lot."

We finished writing our answers and handed them to Dad to read. Mom had to guess who wrote which answer.

"Number one!" he said. "Talking to fast.

"Number two...talking back to mom.

"And number three... asking, "do you want some?"

Mom fell on the floor laughing.

Now, you should know one thing before I continue this story. Every night at dinner, my dad tries to force me to eat more. It's always, "do you want more potatoes?" or "do you want some of my steak?" or "eat some peas." It's so annoying, but clearly that's not where my mother's mind was going.

"Mom," Katie said as my mom pounded her fists on the ground and shook with laughter. "What's so funny?"

I glanced over at Katie.

"Nothing!" I said. "he's talking about food!"

That only made things worse. My dad's face turned red and he couldn't breath under his chuckles, while mom shouted something about being scared for life.

"Well," I said, "you're the one who went there."

Oh yea....and I forgot one thing. My dad's AOL screen name is Scarecrow40, only he misspelled it as "Scarcrow," and this Christmas Eve, I truly was scared for life. Almost more than the time I.....well, I think I've already given you too much information.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

stuff that happens


Let me tell you about something I read at Barnes and Noble on Monday. A woman in Massachusetts was cooking Thanksgiving dinner when her daughter went into labor. The mother called 911, but the baby was already crowning so the paramedics had to talk her through the birth of her grandchild!

Now isn't that sweet...grandma got to deliver her very own grandbaby on Thanksgiving!

Right now your probably smiling on the inside, holding your hand to your heart, and if you're really emotional, you might even be dabbing a few tears from your eyes. But before you breakdown completely, let me relay a few more details of the story:

Remember when I said that grandma was cooking Thanksgiving dinner when her daughter went into labor? Well...she didn't stop. Yep, that's right--even though she was delivering a baby, she didn't stop cooking lunch.

Now that's what I call multitasking. If only I could cut the umbilical cord of a gooey newborn baby while basting the turkey and stirring the gravy that I will be feeding my family, then I might be able to get some things done.

Does anyone else think this violates some sort of health code?

Random crap like this happens all the time, not just in the home of a pregnant Massachusetts woman. And that's why I'm starting a new blog...a blog dedicated to the random crap that happens in my life and yours:

Like the other day, right after I read the article, I was sitting in a chair reading about "things white people like" when a bluetooth headset wearing business woman asked a chubby clerk to help her find a book of poetry. Sounds pretty normal, right? Well it would have been if he hadn't been wearing reindeer antlers on top of his bald head.

Or like woman who just dropped her garlic cheese Starbucks pretzel and let out a disappointed "ooohhh...." in the middle of the Barnes and Nobel cafe. Glad that wasn't me. She took it back and asked for a new one. The barista merrily obliged. I, on the other hand, would have just wiped it off and pleaded the 5 second rule. After all, if people can eat food with baby juice all over it, I can surely handle a little bookstore floor crud.