Christmas Holidays Packed A Punch This Year

The flu has been using me like a hacky sack. It started at 6:15am on Christmas morn. Not with me, mind you, but with the Oldest Urchin. I made it to the bathroom just in time to hold her hair back.

Sigh. She was rather pathetic. By 6:30 she was lamenting, "Why did this have to happen on a national holiday? Why not an ordinary day?!?" She's nothing if not a dramatic nine year old.

The Man and I had laid down the law on Christmas Eve. No Urchin was allowed to get out of bed before 7am. So true to form, I tucked the Oldest Urchin into the guest futon with me, and she bounced back with abnormal speed.

O.U. - "Twelve minutes until Christmas starts, Mom." "Eight minutes."
Only seven minutes left, Mommy."

Me - "Close your eyes. And quit talking to me with puke breath."

O.U. (seriously unfazed) *crazy kid whisper only achievable on Christmas morning* "Five minutes left!"

Me- "How do you know there's only five minutes if your eyes are closed?"

O.U. "Ummm" *devious silence* "Santa told me?"

So package ripping commenced at 7:01 am and ended at approximately 7:03. Round two of flu vomiting began a little after 9. Then around 11, I got hit.

I'd finally been well enough to get a flu shot on Dec. 23rd. Okay, it probably didn't take hold until a few days later, so I was able to hold off most of my disgruntledness in the name of accurate science. But then I got hit again with the flu on the 28th and 29th! WTH flu shot? C'MON!!!

The only upside is that I lost 5 pounds over the holidays.  Soon to be put back right where they were with the upcoming devouring of the last of the Christmas cookies that have been calling to me all day.

So I'm barely back in the saddle, and I have to report to the new year's eve drop in about an hour.  I hope your holidays treated you a little better, and that Santa was very good to you.

Have a happy new year!

Kid's Christmas Special Personality Test

Okay. My father in law is out of the hospital and slowly recuperating at home, and I'm finally over the flu. So, you know what that means. Time for some off-the-wall-pent-up-crazy from me.

Which leads to today's post. I've been ruminating on what a person's preferences for children's Christmas special moments says about his or her's personality. I know there are quick personality tests based on your favorite Stooge (Mine's Larry), your favorite Marx Brother (when I was young it was Harpo, now it's Groucho), and your favorite Power Ranger (I have no idea. I didn't watch them, but my favorite Ninja Turtle is Rafael, just for the record.).

So let's do a run down of kid's Christmas specials, shall we?

Frosty the Snowman.

The only part of Frosty the Snowman that I actually like is when one of the kids in the beginning tries to name him Oatmeal.



I share Sheldon's opinion of Frosty.



But I don't agree with him on The Grinch. There are so many parts to the Grinch that I love that I devoted an entire post to the top three best Grinch moments one year. I've only been able to narrow it down to two for this year.

The moment when the Grinch gets his awful idea and smiles that wonderfully devious smile.



I need a tee shirt with that smile on it.

Neck and neck with that moment is when the Grinch returns to Who-ville with the presents and the Whovians open like a gate for him. I have no explanation for why I love that moment like I do. Just accept it and move on please.



The moment of which I speak is at 3:25.

On to A Wish For Wings That Work. Now I'm a HUGE Bloom County fan from way back. At first I wasn't sure about giving a voice to Opus for this movie, but the whole kaboodle is just awesome. And again we have a tie. My favorite parts of this classic are the Elvis cameos and when Opus says, in regard to Bill the Cat wanting to be his best buddy, "but stinkbugs would like to dance the Watusi in my undershorts. I mean, you gotta draw the line somewhere." For some strange reason there are no clips of these parts on YouTube. I can't understand why.

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

My favorite part of that special is when Herbie declares his desired profession.



Followed closely by Yukon Cornelius trying to ascertain if he's found gold by licking his pickaxe. Because, really, what person on the Rankin/Bass team thought up that little gem?



So that's going to do it for tonight. We'll see if I find the time to continue these crazy ramblings for a  part two. (Because I haven't even touched on The Year Without A Santa Clause yet) But what I really want to know is, what are your favorite parts from any of the great children's Christmas special classics? Lay it on me in the comments!

And have a beautiful Christmas!

Excuses, Excuses

This is a hectic time of year for all of us, I know. So my excuses for being away from my home away from home, Tongue In Cheek, and not out visiting all of your awesome blogs right now don't hold that much water. And since I try to make TiC a zany kind of place, I don't get serious here very often.

BUT. . .

Along with all the regular holiday craziness that comes with two young Urchins, I also have other more pressing excuses.

Like my father-in-law has been having heart trouble all fall, and it has gotten shoved into the semi-serious, and I'm the closest relative with the most flexibility in my schedule since I only teach the crazy three year olds half days. So much of my time has been spent helping out The Man's mom.

Going back to work this year since staying home with my kiddos is wreaking havoc on my immune system. So I've been constantly sick, picking up all sundry of germs from those nutsy three year olds.

I'm tying up all the mounds of paperwork and jobs that go along with passing the torch of presidency to the next president of my local writer's group. The list of items seems ENDLESS!!!

Plus the wacky New Year's Eve Drop. Plus the three chapter critique I offered a member of my writer's group. Plus. . . Plus . . .

And don't even get me started on my own lack of writing!

Sigh. But do know that I'm missing all you virtual buddies out there something crazy. And know that I have all kinds of half baked ideas for more crazy posts in the coming weeks. If I can find the time to get them out. For example, musings about real personality tests based on your favorite parts of children's Christmas specials. So bear with me. I will hopefully eke out a little more time. But for now I have to go harass my propane company because we ran out of gas and its 27 degrees outside.

Oy. Vey.

I hope the holiday season is treating YOU right!

Roller Derby and Motorcycle Hibernation

The first snow and ice hit last night, and we all know what that means.

Why, winterization of my motorcycle, of course.

Ever since my spill back in May, I haven't gotten back on, but there were several days where I was extremely tempted. There was just a lack of time factor holding me back. So next spring, I'm sure I'll be back on the road, tooling around on the beloved Ninja.

Ahh, can't you hear it purring like a panther from there?

The local roller derby team is in its off season as well. I was able to get a picture of this slippery character at one of the last bouts I attended. The saucy minx winked at me as he passed by.

If you can't see his shirt, it reads "Full Commando?"

His beard came about halfway down the front of his shirt. And all my regular readers know how I cherish certain types of facial hair art.  His though, not so much. I think he had been sampling some of the chocolate covered bacon on a stick they sell there, as some sort of flavor savers were present.

But I did get to add to my growing tee shirt collection.

Look at all the lovelies!!!

So now that the motorcycle is sleeping and roller derby is done, I'm at a loss for any kickass winter diversions. Maybe I'll take up curling.

Any cool suggestions for an ennui ridden gnome would be greatly appreciated.

Time - Who's Got It?

I sure as heck don't. I've been crazy busy this past week and a half. And I don't see an end in sight. Last year I got very stern with myself. I was working on saying no. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten much better at it.

Tonight I have a "Britches"* meeting to attend where I will be discussing the kid's activities I'll be in charge of for the New Year's Eve drop in my community.

*It's called this because the little old lady in charge had a five foot tall by five foot wide pair of pants (breeches) custom made that we lower from a flag pole at midnight. Yes, I'm telling the truth, and surprisingly, no, it wasn't my idea.

It's about 6 of us running the entire thing. And I'm the young blood. Sigh. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Blue haired little old ladies are my Kryptonite. I cannot say no to them. I've scaled back my part in these proceedings to upkeeping the website I designed for them and planning and running children's activities until 10 pm. I used to solicit funds and food donations, and distribute advertising flyers as well. But this year with my new job, I've had to be firm with the "blue hairs".

I also volunteered to run the environmental field day for my girls' schools in the spring. I did this last year and it took a toll. I developed two curriculums, aligned to the state's science standards incorporating outdoor science education activities and ran both days at the local state park. I created all the activities, shopped for all the supplies, recruited and organized all the volunteers, busing, park naturalist, and more. Now I need to start thinking about this year's new curriculums and start researching activities. Not looking forward to giving up my writing time for that.

So in the interest of saving time, I've gathered some great holiday shopping ideas for us all.

First up- Kiss Pez.

Yes, gentle readers, now you can get your sweet tooth and your rock on at the same time.

It even includes a collector's tin! Now how much would you pay?

Here is yet another way to immortalize Gene Simmons and his tongue. Because we can't have too many renderings of that.

Many of you remember the year I was the county's 'Possum Queen. I was really busy that year with all my trailer park grand re-openings, but I still stand by my endorsed 'possum products. Though, the opossum fur willie warmer is not for the faint of heart.

And as always, you can find excellent gifts for all your angry mob needs at my online store, The Angry Villager. While you're ordering your engraved pitchfork, be sure to tell the operator standing by that I sent you. It's good for 8% off your total order.

Hope this helps with your holiday shopping and saves you lots of time! I aim to please.

Celebrate Thanksgiving With Arlo

It's time for a Thanksgiving musical interlude.

After much careful deliberation (what with so many popular Thanksgiving songs to choose from), I went with the long, hilarious, intelligent Thanksgiving standard, Alice's Restaurant.

Right up there with Over The River and Through The Woods as the traditional Thanksgiving sing along, Alice's Restaurant has entertained Thanksgiving revelers since 1969.

So sit back for the next 20 minutes or so and enjoy this American masterpiece. My gift to you this Thanksgiving.  Enjoy!



Here's a great live version from 2005.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Rocketship Underwear- Reused.

Hi everybody. I'm running around like a maniac this week and with next week being the holiday I'll be in Mommy-Mode full time, so I may not be around much in the beautiful alternate reality of the internets. So I'm posting another re-run. This one from April of 2010. Time to get your rocketship underwear on!

I love the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. It was inspired; creative, with a combination of great illustrations and wonderful writing. I remember this one where Calvin is flexing his little arms in front of a mirror wearing just underwear and his "I'm going to take on the world and win" grin. And he says something like, there's nothing like rocket ship underwear to make you feel invincible.

I have my version of rocket ship underwear on today. It's my new Chef Wong's tee shirt. Chef Wong's is a great Chinese restaurant in the area. The family ate there one fall day, and they had these shirts hanging on the wall for sale. The Man's back was to them, but I kept pestering him to look at them. The exchange went a little something like this.

Me - Check out that tee shirt. It's so cool!
Him - I will in a minute.
Me - But it's awesome. You have to check it out.
Him - I will in a minute.
Me - Seriously. It's the coolest ever. You have to look at it.
Him - Can I eat some General Tso's first?
Me - I guess. But you're looking after two bites

So the Man, smart man that he is, got the impression that I fancied the shirt. He got one for me for Christmas. He used it to wrap two dvds. Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and Hero, so it was a total Kung Fu Christmas theme going on with that part of the gift.

We pause here for Ava's benefit since she can't say Kung Fu without hearing this in her head:



Okay. Now back to our regularly scheduled post.

So I'm wearing the Chef Wong shirt today. It's short sleeved, so I had to wait for nice weather to put it on. And let me tell you I put it on. Along with the whole rocket ship underwear attitude. Not even finding dog crap in my living room- that the offending dog stepped in and subsequently tracked around- could dampen my spirits. Now that is one magic tee shirt.



So I do have a bit of a tee shirt obsession. I'm currently waiting for just the right moment to bust out the Will Farrell "More Cow Bell" shirt for the season.

That's a tricky one. You have to know when the right unveiling time is for the warm weather. You don't want to do it too early and have to cover it with a sweatshirt. You run into dangerous territory if you try to contain that much awesomeness. Nuclear meltdown type stuff.

So, do you have any healthy obsessions? Any talismans that act like rocket ship underwear? Lay it on me!

Bratz- Precursors to the Alien Invasion

Flashback Sunday- Here's a peek at an old post from January 2013. I've got some doozies in my past, and figured some of you might get a kick out of one of my conspiracy theories. Enjoy!

It has long been my belief that Bratz were invented to smooth the way for a hostile alien invasion. Their rise in popularity will make the masses much more accepting of their new alien overlords.

Check out the similarities in their physical features.

pic from thehairpin.com

Note both possess the abnormally large slanted eyes. The lack of a definitive nose. The tiny body with huge head. Glam up this green one and you'd have a ringer. Wait, they already did that!

pic from the bestdolldress

So now they're beginning the subjugation of the younger generation through savvy toy marketing. You can tell they've done their homework. They know us well.

I of course, envision something like this happening in the very near future.

And have already begun programming my own urchins against the indoctrination of alien space invaders. Every time they see a Bratz or their equally evil counterparts from Monster High, they immediately say things like, "Eeeew, Mommy. Look! They're so ugly!"

And it makes my heart glow with paternal pride that I have given them the rudimentary defense against the impending alien invasion.

Writing And Music- It's Like . . .

Caramel and chocolate.

Summer and snow cones.

Motorcycles and beautiful days.

One makes the other even better. 

There have been many who have discussed music and writing. Most of the ones that I've come across talk about writing to music. That's something I can't do. I listen too intently to the music and get distracted from my writing. Probably because I have a musical background. (I've played the violin, piano and flute.) And I'm easily distracted. (Is that a rabbit over there?) 

Many authors create playlists of the songs that inspired their work. I find that I compile soundtracks to complement my scenes. For example in chapter two of A Shot At Forever, as the heroine approaches her marks for the night, I know that 8-Ball, by Seasick Steve is playing in the background of the honkytonk.



(I highly recommend Seasick Steve. His album Walkin Man is outstanding.)

Now that you know the song, here's the scene.


-->

Chapter 2

            "Well now, is this a boys only club, or can any gal get in on the shots?" With just the right amount of sass, Sheridan threw her question out to the men standing around the pool table.

Her boot heels clicked across the worn wooden floor as she approached the cowboys she’d been casing for almost an hour. When they turned to face her, she stopped a few feet in front of them and rested her hands on her hips in an arrogant stance.

Five sets of eyes roamed up and down her body as she waited for a response. She held her ground and didn’t move a muscle, even though she wanted to itch right out of her skin.

You didn’t mind when Ethan looked at you like that last night. Sheridan slammed the door on that thought and forced herself to look at her marks, not the dance floor where she’d gotten the most intense kiss of her entire life.

            A cocky young buck stepped forward and smirked. "Do you know how to play with the big boys there, sweet thing, or are you just wantin' to hold a long piece of wood? Either way, I can accommodate you."

Loud guffaws filled the air, drowning out the country music coming from the dance floor behind her.

            Pushing her lucky cowboy hat back further on her head, she nodded to the cue in his hand. "The way I figure it, all you gotta do is know how to use that piece of wood. I know how to handle it. Question is- do you?"

            The ensuing hoots and laughs were her ticket in, and she knew it.

The young cowboy’s eyes hardened. "Alright darlin', you can play, but we play for stakes, so you got to be ready to cover what we're playing for. Unless you can offer up something just as good that we might be wanting to sample."

A mischievous smile painted her face, covering the trickle of unease she felt under his stare. “Don’t you worry about the money. I’ve got you covered like dew on the grass.” 

 (If you're interested in a longer excerpt, click here.)

Sometimes a song can inspire a scene. Or a story. And sometimes you can be inspired by the songs themselves.  (Those Blues Storytellers, My New Favorite Winter Song)

So how does music play into your writing? What songs are essential for your story? Do you have any recommendations for cool songs you're into right now?

Resurrection Blogfest II

Hi Everybody! Today is Resurection Blogfest, run by the incomparable, Mina Lobo.



This is the easiest blogfest around, and I almost missed it, due to all the cold medicine and other craziness going on around here. I'm not savvy enough at the moment to get the blogfest picture into the sidebar, so it disqualifies me from the prize drawing, but that's okay by me. I just wanted to be part of the cool kids participating. All you had to do is repost an old blog post from the past year you thought hadn't gotten the love it deserved.

So without further ado, I'm unearthing a post from back in March of this year.

Mutton Chops-A Closer Study of The Art of the Sideburn

Today we take a closer look at a very popular expression of male facial hair as we delve into the mutton chop. This in depth analysis of one of the many different categories of male facial hair builds on my previous homage to the art of the sideburn.

Mutton chops are long, sometimes bushy, sideburns that reach either the jawline or connect to a mustache. They can be trimmed and stylized in any number of ways. As such.

pic from brooklyndaily.com

It has been my experience that if a man has mutton chops, there are only four occupations he is able to hold.

1. Elvis impersonator.

Elvis did right by the mutton chop in the seventies.

 And the impersonators know it. Have a look.

pic from lasvegassun.com

2. Lumberjack
I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay . . . with my mutton chops.

3. Motorcycle gang member
But let it be known that a mutton chop wearing member cannot rise in the hierarchy above the level of "thug". Leaders must make special facial hair concessions and have either a ZZ Top beard or a Fu Manchu mustache.

4. Horror film hillbilly extra #6

 One through five being taken by other men with bushy beards or very scraggly mustaches.

So that's it on the mutton chop except to declare them magnificent. (Just like the mullet) And to prove my point, I leave you with this.

Nothing but mutton chops, baby!

Which career path would you choose if mutton chops adorned your mug?

****~~~***

So there it is, Citizens. My take on some wicked-awesome facial do's. Next time, I'll really talk about writing and music. Until then, let me know about your facial hair preferences in the comments!