Every year I like to add an image to my blog that captures how I feel about the holidays. In the past it was easy…something pretty in shades of red, or green, or silver, or blue. Something traditional. Now with the war on Christmas and me without my flake jacket, I decided to go with something that should
appease please everyone.
The evolution of this decision went something like this:
Leaves out those who don’t celebrate Christmas and those who are not merry.
The only time I had a season greet me was when I overindulged in spicy Thai and it said “see ya” on the way back up.
Basic, yet boring.
Offensive to the gay community. So says Hallmark. And they should know. Right?
Can’t be seen as encouraging drinking. *pours another cocktail*
My Polish friends wouldn’t get it.
May offend my one French Jewish friend.
Not very nice if you only have one hand and can’t manage the “secret handshake.”
Accurate. Yet somehow lacking in seasonal sentiment.
Not everyone wants an elf inside them. Well, not a really big one.
Hmm. Maybe next year?
A close runner up. But there’s that word “Christmas” again.
The winner. Because who doesn’t like options?
It’s time for that all important question. Do we BlogFestivus this year?
I’ve decided to put it to a vote. If there are at least three bloggers out there interested in participating, it’s a go.
Here are the details. Vote at the end of this post.
1. It’s a short challenge. Just 5 stories over 5 days. From December 16 to December 20.
2. You don’t need to come up with a lot of words. Only 200 for each story. Continue reading
Fifty seems to be a popular number for lists. Why should 50 Shades of Grey get all the attention? Fine literature like this aside, to celebration American Thanksgiving I bring you the listapalooza “50 Shades of Turkey.” An assortment of questionable, yet edible, turkey dishes.
Every dish was been taste-tested by me. Sometimes more than once. Servings may include a barf bag.
1. The classic carved-by-Grandpa roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings. May include one of Grandpa’s fingers because the turkey hit the oven late and he got through a fifth of bourbon waiting “for that damn bird to be done already!”
2. Scarlet’s Southern-style Turkey with Chitlin Gravy. It’s a slave to make and takes 12 years to cook. Continue reading
Being the introverted daughter of extroverted parents, my childhood was a misery until I left home, finished school and began to make a meager living in the big city. I didn’t have much but it was enough.
Growing up in the ass end of a town so small it didn’t have a stoplight, I didn’t know what an introvert was. I only knew I didn’t fit in, I had few friends, and my teachers thought I was “challenged” in some way. Going to class every day was torture. If I’d known what an extrovert was, I would have tried to be one just so I’d have the brass to cut class. Yes, happily would I have served detention to avoid participating in group discussion, in a circle of desks so close to each other that when the kid next to me got an itchy nose, I reached over and scratched. Continue reading