This is what I heard, all three in a row, the other morning when I woke up. Isn’t that just great? So happy. Waking up happy is a beautiful thing, baby, can u dig it? And these three songs, playing one after another, with little DJ interruption, is the reason why Steve wants to jab himself in the eyeballs come 6 a.m. — cuz he just. can’t. reach. my clock radio aiiiiiiiiiii make it stop!!! she needs to set it to NPR like I do aiiiiiiii…

“love her madly” — the doors

“the backstabbers” — o’jays (My daughter, watching this video, “Look at their hair! They wore it so… big.” me, getting all misty, “yeah, all the guys wore their hair like that,” (thinking of the black guys I went to grade school and high school with) “it looked great.” Wacky Girl, “But the girls wore it big, too!” me: “Honey, you should have seen Grandma’s hair, it was big.”)

“grazin in the grass is a gas baby can you dig it” — the friends of distinction

“And it’s real, so real, so real, so real, so real, so real
Can you dig it
Whooo-oooh”

“Words /
as slippery as smooth grapes, /
words exploding in the light /
like dormant seeds waiting /
in the vaults of vocabulary, /
alive again, and giving life: /
once again the heart distills them.”

— Pablo Neruda, poet and diplomat (1904-1973)

Here’s what NOT to do when you’re broke: “payday loans.” (Which are now illegal in Oregon and 14 other states, thank God.) And avoid the damn credit cards, if possible. Get a roommate, move in with friends, reduce expenses, stop eating out, walk and don’t drive, take the bus and don’t pay for parking, balance the checkbook daily, don’t rack up “courtesy fees,” switch to a credit union, on and on. Yes, we know all this. Pay with cash when possible, put your money in little envelopes marked “groceries,” “leisure,” “emergency,” turn down the thermostat, donate money, supplies and volunteer when you can… But what about if you’re already over the edge? Hang on. You just have to hang on. Try to have hope when it feels like there is none.

Here’s what else you can do: Watch this show. It’s a Frontline special called “The Card Game,” all about the credit card fiasco our nation is diving into headfirst. We caught the end of it last night, it’s good. (more…)

Christmas movie season has started for us. We’ve already watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “The Ref.” Tonight we’re watching “A Christmas Story” and I also bought a copy of “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” for Steve. Because it was me and my cousin T’s favorite and now he is gone and I have to have something to make me not so lonely for him, once the holidays kick into full manic overdrive.

I realize that that will not happen until mid-morning this Friday, but I am getting prepared.

I am missing my cousin, and my grandma. He was the nicest person in our family so of course he died young. That is the way shit operates I guess. Same for his dad, same for my dad, I coulda called it but I didn’t. And my grandma was the wildest so of course I don’t know who the hell to call now that she’s gone. I go to call her once or twice a day, only she is not there. Then I do not want to pick up the phone at all when it rings because, ring, ring, hello? It’s not going to be her.

“Nancy. It’s her Grandma. Call her.”

That is the message she would leave on my machine, see?

Sigh.

Do the holidays affect you weird or what?

Also, what is your favorite holiday book and/or movie?

Please advise.

xo

Wacky Mommy
The Christmas Elf

on my nightstand this week:

Oh, how we love our Winter Hawks. The lack of shooting. The lack of scoring. The lack of winning. The fact that they’re housed on “Winning Way” makes it just that much more painful. Oh, wait just a minute here — we’re ranked 2nd in our division at this point???? Gooooooo, team!

Bart: “Hey Mom, did you save the love letters Dad sent you?”

Homer Simpson: “Maybe it’s the beer talking Marge, but you’ve got a butt that won’t quit. They’ve got these big chewy pretzels here that are [unintelligible] Five dollars? Get outta here.”

Dwight: Where are we going?
Jim: Come on. Get inside.
Dwight: Where are we going?
Jim: We’re going to Chuck E. Cheese.
Michael: Chuck E. Cheese? Oh, god. I’m so sick of Chuck E. Cheese.
Jim: We’re going to the hospital, Michael.
Michael: I know. I’m just sayin’…

My husband Hockey God and I just spend all day cracking each other up over here. We’re not good at much else but we’re good as hell at that. He knows this is my favorite YouTube clip ever:

I am living proof of what happens to a girl when she grows up with her dad’s parents loving them some Lawrence Welk and her mom’s parents loving them some Hee-Haw. I know for sure Steve’s gonna love this one:

You know why that one is so good? Well, a lot of reasons, obviously. The technical wherewithal, the go-to-it-iveness of the whole dadblasted thing. June is so adorable, and John is so handsome. (That’s what I called him, John.) But mainly, it’s classic because no matter how big and how famous she got, how many fancy houses and cars and all that, she was still that little honey who started out with her family, performing. I love u, June. (John, too.)

That’s right, I just do not know when to stop. Last one. I promise. Look for that sexy little vixen Tammy Wynette, and my friend John with a pie in his hand.

She’s reviewing big girl boudoir toys over on her blog. She kills me, with the descriptions. Yummy pink!

I will continue to write about… yummy pink sugar cookies. Yes, we need all kinds of writing in this world, yes we do. Hmm. Here’s a question: If you gave me a choice right now between a yummy pink sugar cookie and nooky, what would I take?

Both.

Here’s a thought: For those of you who are long-time readers of blogs (lurkers or not), have your blog needs changed? My writing has changed a lot in five years, mebbe not for the better, who can tell? But I’m going to the blogs for different things now: Less parenting advice, more recipes; less for the serious stuff, more for the humor. It’s not that I don’t need or want the parenting advice, I do. Oh, I do. But I’m not finding as much as I’d like for parents of tweens.

So… why do you go read around?