Saturday, December 22, 2012

Go Away. And Take Your Bird With You.




25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day Whatever

Today, while I was Christmas shopping, a man with shoulder-length hair, crooked teeth and a goatee, came up to me, placed a giant bird statue at my feet and said, "If you're in need of giant bird, this is the one for you."

He seemed quite proud of his ingenious pick up line and waited eagerly for my response, which went something like this:

*nervous laugh, polite comment, run away, hide behind a shelf*

A little piece of advice to the guys of the world, if you want to pick up a chick, do not present them with a freakishly large seagull. I realize that I'm married and therefore extra immune to being hit on by strange men in a department store, but still, a come-on that includes oversized fowl is never a good idea. Had I been single and looking to mingle in the middle of housewares, that would have been strikes one, two, and three.

Later, while I was feeling up some amazingly soft blankets, he appeared again. "Gettin' two of those, huh?"

This time my response was:

*extra nervous laugh, slightly less polite comment, dash away, dash away, dash away all!*

Apparently my responses conveyed that I was way into him and in want of more bird seduction because he approached me again.

"I'd hate myself if I didn't ask you. What's your name?"

I hesitated for a second before saying, "Sarah."

He probably said his name while we shook hands, but I didn't hear it because the alarm bells were going off in my head.

LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!

My name is not Sarah, you guys. I lied. I am a liar. I am a lying liar who lies. My Moma taught me lying was bad, and I believe her because I felt bad for doing it. However, she does have very little patience for creeps who hit on her. And a creep who hits on her daughter? Well, that guy she'd probably kick in the nuts then beat him with his bird while he was down. So she'd probably be okay with this slight alteration of the truth.

I know, Tommy. I know. But sometimes it's necessary.


The Stalker Creep pointed to the thing I held in my hand and asked what it was.

"It's for my friend."

He seemed awed and incredibly impressed by my gift choosing skills. "So, what do you do?"

Before I could stop myself,  I told the truth. "I work in marketing."

"Oh, that's cool.  I used to do that, but now..."  He began rambling about what he does. Something about going to back to school and media and design or whatever. All I could focus on was what my answer would be when he asked me where I worked. I knew that whether I lied or told the truth he'd look up my company on the internets and when he discovered "Sarah" didn't work there, he'd be filled with rage, which would send his stalker skills into overdrive, propelling him to discover my true identity. And then he'd peck me to death with his bird.

Cuz that 's what stalkers do. They used their birds as weapons.

He told me I had a cute nose, at which point I realized that not only was he a stalker and a creep, but also and idiot. My nose is not cute. It's my worst facial feature. It was my second worst feature until I was thirteen and began waxing my unibrow.

He asked if I lived here. Or maybe he asked if I was from here. I was too panicked at that point to focus and was reduced to offering weird gurgling sounds in response.

"So, what else do you do?"

I wondered how rude it would be, on a scale of one to why-do-I-even-care-about-being-polite, to tell him that I don't like talking to strangers. But before I had a chance to say anything, he looked at my hand and said, "Oh, you're married?"

I answered a simple, "yes." But in my head I was screaming, "Yes! Yes, I am married and all I do is my husband. I work, buy Christmas presents for my friends and family, and DO MY HUSBAND. Now, leave me alone!"

He said it was nice to meet me and I was all, "a pleasure." As he was walking away he told me he was sure my friend would like her gift.

Thanks, dude. I'll be sure to let her know it has the stalker stamp of approval.

I finished my shopping, paid for my items, and headed to my car, when what to my wondering eyes should appear! A Stalker man weaving and bounding right toward me!

I had had enough. Time for Bitch Mode. I held my keys like a weapon, walked with purpose, shot daggers with my eyes, and gave off 'don't eff with me' vibes. He scurried off with his tail between his legs. Or maybe he went to make out with his bird.

Although the whole experience was my personalized version of hell, I don't' blame him for trying. It must be tough to be a guy. The majority of the asking out falls on them. They get rejected 99% of the time (especially when incorporating props into their pick-up routine) but once you know a girl is married, BACK OFF. Don't chase after her like a puppy running through a poppy field.

Pretend there are poppies in this picture.

If anyone's looking for any last minute gift ideas for me, I'd like a stalker shield with a bird slaying feature. Just in case.

P.S. To all my friends named Sarah, your name is one I was proud to call  my own. I'm sorry I had to use it in such a way.

P.P.S. To all those who participated in the blogger ornament exchange, I am going to host a link-up on Sunday. Hopefully you all will have received your ornaments by then. If not, have no fear! The linky will be open for several days.

Comment gem!

Leanne Hawn:
Can you please blog about the merits of passing out wine and/or valium at the entrance of stores during the holiday season?! I think it would help society; especially in stores where children are screaming "I want that mommmmmmmyyyyyyy!!!!"

Thursday, December 20, 2012

So THIS Is Why People Give Me Weird Looks


25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day Whatever

I love Christmas songs. ALL songs. Well almost. I hate, hate, HATE the Christmas Shoes song. It makes me want to impale myself on a pitchfork.

I love different versions of the same song: Nat King Cole, Sinatra, Elvis, Springsteen. (Nothing gets me ready to rock like Bruce's rendition of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.)

I admit, I have been listening to Christmas music before Thanksgiving. I usually try to hold out until at least I'm well into my turkey coma and the trauma of tugging on bird wieners is far behind me, but this year I just couldn't wait.

It makes me so dern happy, you guys.

It occurred to me the other day that I had yet to hear one of my favorite Christmas songs:

ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS HULA HOOP CHRISTMAS SONG!

'Tis not the Christmas season without this song. So I YouTubed it and played it. And again. And again. And lather, rinse, repeat.

Naturally, this song was stuck in my head for-freaking-ever. The next day, I was walking to my car, and, forgetting that I was no longer in the comfort of my padded wall home, I began singing. Like the chipmunks. In a loud, high-pitched, squeaky voice. The loud, high-pitched, squeaky voice that makes my dogs hide under the table. Only this time, my dogs weren't there. Because I was about town. As in, in public. With other people around.

Singing.





This explains so much. So. Much.

P.S. To all those who participated in the blogger ornament exchange, I am going to host a link-up on Sunday. Hopefully you all will have received your ornaments by then. If not, have no fear! The linky will be open for several days.

Comment gems!

That is hilarious! You or your hubby should wear them into a board meeting at work with a straight face. Too funny!

Just went to visit my friend Pickleope the Great and what name did my blue eagle eyes zoom in on: 'The Sarcasm Goddess' (Better make that capitals). I just couldn't resist. She was all regretsky about the bastard she had married, alright. That's so perceptive of you. I've been marred, I mean married, for almost three months and I, too, am not at that point yet. I wish some stranger would tell me maybe my marriage will last. It would mean so much to me. Now excuse me while I go and blow my nose. This is such a strain on my feminine side. It gets me all emotional.


Saturday, December 15, 2012

The Big Reveal

25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 15

Here they are... OUR TACKY SWEATERS!

I have shown them to a few people and their reaction has been, "Awww."

And I'm like, "No, no, no. Not Aww. Awwwful!. They're awful."

But the thing is?

They're not. They're adorable. And awesome. And I don't know why I waited so long to have them in my life. And I want to wear them everyday.

I'm here. I'm tacky. And I'm proud!



In case you don't know, these are my dogs. The husband is wearing Evil Cody and I'm wearing Sweet Riley. I honestly don't know who wouldn't want to wear their dog's face everywhere they go.

Comment gem coming later... On my way to a party!

Friday, December 14, 2012

A Modern Day Miracle


 25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 14

The following conversation happened today when I was shopping at Macy's for a gift for the husband:

The cashier rings me up and asks if I'd like a box.

Me: No.

Cashier: Ya just going to throw it at him?

Me (laughs): Yes. Here you go, here's your present.

Cashier (pretending to be me): And this is how much I paid for it. Actually, I paid less than that cuz the cashier had a coupon.

It was clear to both of us that I was jokesky about the whole thing and she was all regretsky about the bastard she had married.

Cashier: Yeah, you have to be married awhile before you start throwing stuff at each other.

Now, in my mind I'm thinking she means married for 25 years. You know, awhile. But then...

Cashier: Yeah, just wait until the second year of marriage and you'll be like, "I buy you crap all year, now I have to buy you something else for Christmas?"

Me: I've been married for seven and a half years.

Cashier (eyes bulging from her head): And you're not at that point yet?

Me: No.

Cashier: Huh. Well maybe your marriage will last.

I was overwhelmed with Christmas spirit, you guys. Over. Whelmed.

It kinda reminded me of that other story that took place at Macy's. You know, the one where the department store hires an old man to play Santa but a miracle occurs when he turns out to be the real Santa and inspires hope and brings joy to all.

My experience was just like that, but with less hope and joy and greater chance of divorce, apparently.

Comment gem!

Great Christmas Balls of Plum Pudding! That is beautiful, and only mildly insane.

How long does it take to create that masterpiece? And to DUST it?

Merry Christmas, SC...you clearly have enough Christmas spirit to compensate for my lack of it this year!



Thursday, December 13, 2012

Some People Have Kids; I Have This


25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 13

I just had Sonic for the first time in my whole life. As in ever. As in my whole life.

I think I already said that.

I'm not sure whether to feel awesome or disgusting.

So many emotions right now.

I think I'm going to vomit.

It's Champagne Thursday. I can't deal with blogging right now.

I love Christmas. Love it like whoa. I have a small house. The amount of Christmas decorations I cram in such a small place is probably illegal in seven countries.

Nevertheless, I have a 73 house Christmas village display. It is my pride and joy and I'm sharing it with you.

Please ooh and ahh appropriately.
















I want to post more pictures but I'm cutting it close and am about to fail my goal of 25 Days of Christmas Blogging. And if I fail to reach my goal I'll feel like a big blogging failure and cry the ugly cry and no one, especially the husband who is trying to sleep right now, wants to deal with that.

Comment gem!
Ha! That is something I would do! Yes, you deserved your cookies just for THINKING about cleaning up mid-project

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

I Tried. And That Counts For Something.




25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 12
 

There are many reasons I'd make a terrible basketball player: I am short, I can't dribble, I like to throw elbows when people try to take my stuff. I'm playing with this ball now. You can have a turn in a minute. It's called sharing.

If you ask me, the entire sport is sending the wrong message to kids. That guy has what you want? Well, just go take it from him.

On second thought, that sounds exactly like something I'd be in to.

I've digressed.

Last night, while I was waiting for the hot glue gun to heat up (you will recall, we were making our tacky sweaters) I decided to clean up the felt scraps.

Hot glue gun? Felt scraps? You know it's going to be a good sweater.

Typically, when I make a mess I wait three years to clean it up. Since there wasn't enough time to throw a parade together in celebration of my magnanimous deed, I decided I was deserving of three Christmas cookies. After all, I was tidying up when I wasn't even finished with my project. I gathered the scraps and what happened next is Supreme Reason Numero Uno as to why I should never play basketball. Nor clean, apparently.



I left the mess right where it was and ate four cookies for my troubles.

Comment gem!

I really hope it features reindeer and snowmen re-enacting the Nutcracker. With glitter and working light-noses.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Tis the Season to Be Tacky


25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 11



Every year, the husband and I attend a Tacky Sweater Party hosted by a few of our friends. In addition to wildly tacky attire, it’s filled with intoxicated geo caching at one a.m., inappropriate White Elephant gifts, and idiots diving into shallow pools. Pretty much your standard holiday party shenanigans.

There are many things that can make a Christmas sweater tacky. In fact the name alone – Christmas sweater – implies tackiness (as does any sort of themed sweater, in my opinion). But add to that an embroidered Christmas scene, or glitter, or bells, or lights, or any combination of those, and you’ve got an article of clothing straight from fashion hell. Or, you know, your grandmother’s closet.

Last year, the husband and I visited our local Goodwill and put together an entire tacky ensemble. We ended up looking like Todd and Margo from Christmas Vacation.

 "And why is the carpet all wet, Todd?"
"I don't know, Margo."

 While it was fabulous, this year  we decided to focus solely on The Sweater. To us, what makes a sweater truly tacky is not something that’s really outrageous, but something somebody, somewhere (probably shopping at Wal-Mart) would actually wear. And like. And say, “Idn’t this just the cutest thang?”

The husband and I put our brains together over some sausage (which is to say we went to a sausage restaurant and ate sausage) and came up with THE BEST IDEA EVAH! After consuming sufficient amounts of animal guts shoved inside an intestine casing, we hurried on over to our local craft store to purchase our supplies. We came home, and like giddy children on Christmas Eve, we made our sweaters.

I know I’m probably a little biased, but they are fantastic. So much so that I see why some people wear sweaters like this. So much so that I kinda wear a sweater like this for reals. All day every day.

The party is this weekend. I want to keep it a surprise until then. After it’s over, I’ll post pictures. You’re probably gonna wanna stock up on some Depends, because when you see them you’ll be so happy you’ll pee.

Comment gem!


Bee:
This happens to me a lot. It happened at Staples a while back and I swear, I was ready to stab myself in both eyes with a dull pencil.


Monday, December 10, 2012

All I Want For Christmas is For You to Learn Math




25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 10 


I am not a patient person. In this way, I am my father’s daughter.  I don’t say that because I am blaming him for this character flaw trait. I say it to point out that my extreme impatience is part of my DNA, something I can’t control. Something that is most certainly not my fault, and therefore something you cannot judge me for.

Hahaha! So there!

*ahem*

I also have the worst luck when it comes to picking lines: line at the grocery store, line to pay the toll, line to use the restroom. It doesn’t matter how short the line I choose is, and how long all the other lines are, I still spend the next 4,000 hours of my life in line.



  


Instead of looking at the really long line of people and thinking, they must know something I don't.
I think, what a bunch of dodos. Why would they pick such a long line? Wouldn't they rather have their free bacon sooner? 

So, I smugly choose the smaller line and think about how much more superior I am than everyone else.


 
I could abandon my line for the now empty line, but I don't... on a matter of principle. I chose the right line, dammit! I'm going to stay here to get my free bacon even if I have to wait all night.


I used to not care so much about principles. I'd hop from short line, to shorter line, throwing elbow jabs and stepping on toes in my effort to take care of my business and get on with my life.  When I finally landed in the SHORTEST LINE OF ALL, I'd look back at my original line to see that the line gods had played a nasty little trick on me, and, had I stayed put, my happy little ass would be on its way out the door, not STUCK IN ANOTHER EFFING LINE.

So now I stick my principles. Usually.

Last weekend, I went to Macy's to buy an ornament for an ornament exchange party. They were half off so I joyously selected 12 one and got in line. There was only one lady in front me. I did a quick scan of the area to see if there was a free register. The only one in my view had two people in line. I happily stayed put. Just one little old lady in front of me. How long could she take?

Old Lady: Which of these coupons can I use?

Cashier: Any of them. All of them are good, but you can only use one.

Old Lady: Well how much is this nightgown?

Cashier: $27.

There was lots more talk about asking for individual prices of each of the items she had in her hand. And if any of them were on sale. And if she could use a coupon for any of them. And which coupons she could use. She finally decided not to get the nightgown. I have no idea what else she had in her hands, but she was very concerned about not paying a penny more than she had to.

Old Lady: Which one of these coupons will save me the most money?

Cashier: This one's for 15% off and this one's for 25% off.

Old Lady: Mmm hmm, so which one will save me more money?

This was when I Lost. My. Shit. Which will save her more money?! Last time I checked, 25 was a bigger number than 15 so, you know, maybe use the one with 25 on it. That's just a guess though, cuz you know, numbers are hard, and percentages are even harder and has anyone seen my knife?

Honestly, if you are over the age of twelve and don't know how numbers work you should never be allowed to leave your house. Ever.

I started taking deep, calming breaths while the old lady apologized to the cashier for being such a bother. May I just say that I deserved a freaking medal for not screaming, "YOU SHOULD APOLOGIZE TO ME!" The cashier said that it was okay. That she had three small children so she was used to people being annoying asshats. (I may or may not have imagined her using the phrase 'annoying asshats.')

At which point I was all *snicker, snicker* she just compared you to a small child. But the old lady failed to see the insult and was all, "Oh, children. How lovely. What are their ages?"

Cashier: Nine, six and three.

Old Lady: Nine, six and three! Those are the best ages!

Oh yes. The best. I totally agree. Let's talk about how great those ages are for the next five freaking minutes.

I looked over at the other register. There was only one person left in line. I thought seriously about jumping ship, but then I remembered my principles.

It was finally time for the old lady to pay. She was about to be out the door and on her way when the cashier had the nerve to ask, "Will you be paying for this with your Macy's card?"

Old Lady: Oh! I save more money if I do, right? In that case, I'll get the nightgown.

Well hallelujah! The nightgown will have a home for the holidays. It's a Christmas miracle.

The old lady handed over her credit card, the cashier ran it and asked what the old's lady's zip code was.

Old Lady: 58...no, 39...no 853...golly I forget.

I couldn't take it any longer. I looked at the other register. No one was in line! I ran as fast as I could and got there just in time...for a spry old bat to dash in front of me. The cashier rings up her purchase and that spry old bat, you know what she does?

Wait for it...

She plops an envelope on the counter, pulls out a bunch of paper and says...

"Now which one of these coupons will save me more money?"

And then my head exploded and I died.

The end.

Comment gem!

I have an unhealthy obsession with "A Muppet Christmas Carol." That's some quality cinema right there.

And I have grown to despise any Christmas movie centered around canines. "Santa Paws" and "The Christmas Puppy" are right up there with "Barney" and root canals for me.
 

Sunday, December 9, 2012

In the Nick of Time


25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 9

The next time I set a goal of blogging every day, I'm going to exclude weekends. I'm too busy trying to score my next bacon fix and you guys are too busy doing fabulous things for my blogging shenanigans. I end up running out of time and having a panic attack so I decide to do something easy, like make a list of my top ten favorite Christmas movies but that ends up giving me more anxiety because OMG lists are hard! And I end up rocking myself in the corner and eating my hair.

So in no particular order, here is a list of Christmas movies I must watch every year:

1. Christmas Vacation
2. It's A Wonderful Life
3.Miracle on 34th Street
4. A Christmas Story
5. While You Were Sleeping
6. Elf
7. Frosty the Snowman
8. How the Grinch Stole Christmas
9. Love Actually
10. Fred Claus
11. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

Honorable Mention (these are not a must see every year, but still enjoy and will watch them if I catch 'em on t.v.)

1. The Family Stone ( I HATED this movie the first time I saw it. And I have to say (SPOILER ALERT COMING UP), any movie in which the mom dies is a terrible Christmas movie. But overall, it's kinda grown on me)
2. The Santa Clause
3. Home Alone
4. Prancer
5. As cheesy and predictable as they may be, a few Hallmark Channel movies are going to make the list.

Christmas Movies I despise:
1. Jingle All the Way
2. The Polar Express
3. Nightmare Before Christmas

So, what movies make your list(s)?

Tomorrow (which is probably today, for most of you), December 10th is the last day to sign up for the ornament exchange! Click here for the details!

Comment gem!
 
I always say quality over quantity. I mean, just look at that coloured tree: sprinkles right? nothing says LOVE like sprinkles. truly, I think you've outdone yourself. :)
 

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Send Wine


 
25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 8
 
 
After twelve hours in the kitchen for the Christmas Cookie Extravanganza! this is what we have to show for it:
 
 
 
Three cookies. We have made three cookies. And those haven't even been baked yet.
 
I'm not exactly sure what happened, but you know things aren't going well when someone says, "What happened to the nuts? Why are the nuts so high? I don't think the nuts should look like that."
 
Meh. Whatever. We have wine. And nuts, apparently. Lots and lots of nuts.
 
***
Don't forget! I'm hosting a Blogger Ornament Exchange!
Send an ornament to another blogger, receive one from a mystery blogger. It's one part white elephant, one part secret santa, all parts AWESOME!

For more details read below or click here.

Send me an email to SarcasmGoddess (at) ymail (dot) com . Be sure to include your name, blog name and address.

I will randomly match up participants. You will know who you are sending the ornament to (duh!) but you will not know who will be receiving an ornament from. So it's one part white elephant, one part secret santa, all parts AWESOME!

You can send any kind of ornament: wacky, tacky, silly or pretty. Just please try send something your recipient will actually want to hang it on their tree. (However, everyone should be prepared for the possibility that you may receive an ornament that doesn't quite fit your style/morals/life code, etc. The fun is in the exchange and the surprise of not knowing who your Secret Santa is and what you'll get!) You may want to consider sending something that represents your blog, BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO. You can send any kind of ornament you want.

The deadline to participate is December 10th so that I have enough time to match everyone up and you guys have time to mail your ornaments before Christmas!
 
 
Comment gem!
 
Yay! Cookies and rats. Two great things that...have absolutely nothing in common. Unless you're a rat that likes to eat cookies. Or a cookie in the shape



Friday, December 7, 2012

Christmas Cookie Extravaganza!






25 Days of Christmas Blogging
Day 7

Howdy there, Christmas Critters! 

Christmas Critters?

Yeah, I'm not really sure what that is. Am I calling you guys rodents? Maybe. But totally in a good way, because I happen to think rodents are adorable. For reals. I used to have pet rats.  

So, um, yeah.... The previous eight sentences are exactly why this blog should have an editor.

Anyway, I'm visiting my Mama this weekend for our Christmas Cookie Extravaganza! That's right folks, two Italian women in the kitchen for two and half days straight. The end of the world might be coming a little earlier than everyone expected.

Since I'm chest deep in cookie dough, I don't have much time for tonight's blog (just enough time to, you know, call you guys rats...in a totally affectionate way) so I bring you more pictures of animals in Santa hats. And, as an extra special treat tonight's edition will be hosted by the husband!

He's not usually this grumpy, you guys. I promise. Also, his poop comment makes more sense if you read yesterday's post.




Now, in honor of my fondness for rodents, the husband brings you rats in Santa hats! (click images for source)







***
Don't forget! I'm hosting a Blogger Ornament Exchange!
Send an ornament to another blogger, receive one from a mystery blogger. It's one part white elephant, one part secret santa, all parts AWESOME!
 
For more details read below or click here.

Send me an email to SarcasmGoddess (at) ymail (dot) com . Be sure to include your name, blog name and address.

I will randomly match up participants. You will know who you are sending the ornament to (duh!) but you will not know who will be receiving an ornament from. So it's one part white elephant, one part secret santa, all parts AWESOME!

  You can send any kind of ornament: wacky, tacky, silly or pretty. Just please try send something your recipient will actually want to hang it on their tree. (However, everyone should be prepared for the possibility that you may receive an ornament that doesn't quite fit your style/morals/life code, etc. The fun is in the exchange and the surprise of not knowing who your Secret Santa is and what you'll get!) You may want to consider sending something that represents your blog, BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO. You can send any kind of ornament you want.

The deadline to participate is December 10th so that I have enough time to match everyone up and you guys have time to mail your ornaments before Christmas!



 Comment gems!
 
Poop free hugs are probably the best kind.

1. Stepping in poop in bare feet is so freaking gross. It happened to me one morning at 5 a.m. in the dark hallway. I still have not recovered.

2. Whenever I find pee or poop, I ask my two dogs, "Who did this? WHO? WHO POOPED?" They are like, "Mother, we see you are in a rage. Do our pitiful faces help you to forget your disbelief and disgust? I'm not sure, but I think the father did it."