Christmas comes in small packages

I have a man in my life who has the ability to push all of my buttons. He's handsome, a bit of a lady killer and radiates charm. I simply adore him.

Did I mention he stands 29 inches and will turn 3 at the end of this month?

My nephew Jack positively kills me. He has big brown eyes & a head so big planets should orbit it, not the sun. He talks with a slight lisp and his mannerisms and inflections are far beyond that of a typical 3 yr old. Just about every sentence this kid utters ends with an exclamation mark. He refers to his cousins as "My Kids", and if he had his way, all he'd ever eat would be cheese. And milk.

Jack hates to travel the freeway. We know this because he's become very vocal about it. If he stays within the confines of his city, he's all about a ride in the car. But pull out onto I-205 and the boy begins to spiral.

"We shud juth be off thith fee-way an be at Auntie M's houz", he'll say.

Over.

And over.

Because in his mind, if you get off the "fee-way", Auntie M's house will magically appear. (See why I love this kid?)

Jack and his family spent Thanksgiving with us this year. When I opened the door to greet him, he simply pushed past me and said over his shoulder: "Ine here! Where are My Kids?"

I said: "Hi, Jack! Come give me a hug...... "

He looked at me, his massive head cocked to the side, considered my request carefully and said: "No waaaaay. Where are my kids?"

Totally Heismaned.

By a 3 yr old!

Jack thinks he's got the upper hand with me, but I'm totally on to him. If I feign disinterest in him, he'll come around. It's all about psychin' out the 3 yr old ('cause that's how I roll!). And if that doesn't work, Auntie M will just bust out a pack of Tic Tacs, sit back and let the little midget come to her.

Bribery is clearly not beneath me.

My point? I have no idea. But with all this talk of Jack, I've come to this conclusion: Much like Trix, Christmas is for kids. Pure and simple. And with Jack and his family coming for Christmas Day, I find myself filled with anticipation for what the day will hold. I know that mine will begin with my own children, who will drag me out of bed at 5am, squealing for me to GET UP AND SEE WHAT SANTA BROUGHT US! Once the stockings have been emptied and presents opened, we will spend a quiet morning together, just the Monsters Four, until the rest of our extended families descend upon us. And when Jack arrives, Christmas will center on a 29 inch small fry, who will waltz through my front door, announce his presence to everyone and effectively command the room for the remainder of the day. Christmas will be seen through his eyes, and the magic of it all is sure to rub off on even the snarkiest of brunettes.

If the Grinch's heart can grow three sizes on Christmas Day, surely mine can warm to the splendor that comes from spending the day with your loved ones.

Including a three year old.

Who pushes my buttons.

And puts a Big. Fat. Smile. on my face.

Merry Christmas, Everyone!
(Where'd I put those Tic Tacs?)

She's going the distance....

With a cocktail in hand and a smug smile all over her face, The Snarky Brunette is here to say:

CHRISTAMS SHOPPING 2009 HAS OFFICIALLY CROSSED THE FINISH LINE!!!

Ok, FINE.

So the cocktail isn't in my hand......cuz really, how could I type? But you get the picture. (It's literally right next to me, just a pinky finger away from my right hand. On a coaster. Naturally.)

I made my list. I checked it (and re-wrote it, editing it for content and clarity!) twice.

FINE!

I checked the goddamn list about 10 times- WHAT. EVER!

And unless I forgot someone, all gifts have been purchased, the economy has been effectively stimulated and now I'm looking to this Watermelon Blueberry Martini to effectively begin stimulating ME!

It's cocktail hour in BoHo, People......get your drink on!

"K" is for....

So...... I may have started wrapping Christmas presents tonight.

And I might have been playing Christmas music.........and singing along.

(Because really? What is more festive than Andrea~ Bocelli singing "Dashing through the Snow" with The Muppets? THE FREAKIN' MUPPETS! I defy you not to sing!)

So........ I'm wrapping. And singing. And I might have even been smiling......

Could the Snarky Brunette be embracing the Season?

Oh yeah..... she was embracing it all right. Until she dug around in her nifty Christmas Wrap Organizer and came upon a package of something she didn't recognize.

What are these? Well, these are positively adorable! They look like little paper presents that you hang on the tree......... but what could possibly fit in them?

Wait...... (ding! ding! ding! goes the bell in her pretty brunette head.)

Oh. My. God. (she says to herself.)

ARE YOU F*&^%ING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!, she screams aloud.

Gift tag holders. For gift cards.

Karma. Ain't she a bitch?!

Liquid Sunshine

Christmas is giving me hives.

OR, the combination of Christmas AND stupid people are giving me hives. (I could dedicate an entire blog to Stupid People, but they are so stupid, they wouldn't get it!)


More likely than not, the real reason I woke up with a large patch of splotchy hives on my chest is that I'm currently fighting a cold......

....of some severity.

I actually mocked the person that used that very phrase on me earlier this week...... so perhaps the hives are just Karma's way of kickin' my ass!? Regardless, I have 7 days til Christmas and I'm still just as snarky as ever. My Michael Buble~ high wore off after 48 hours, so.......


Must. Improve. Attitude.

Wait..... 7 days. That's a week, right? Surely I can buy some "Happy" somewhere in that amount of time? I mean, if I can buy gift tags for gift cards, "Happy" has got be sold somewhere!
Gimme a second...... I'll get it.........

Thinking........ (Ouch! Hurts!)......should be instantaneous......cuz who wants to wait for "Happy"?

More thinking.......(more hurting.......goddamn cold!)..........sunshine makes me happy....Ooooooh! If you could bottle sunshine.........

Got it! Two words:

LIQUOR STORE.

Sunshine in a bottle! In an array of shapes & sizes! My sunshine of choice: Vodka. Specifically, Grey Goose. (Step off, Kettel One advocates....dis be MY blog!) And the only thing you should be adding to Grey Goose, is olive juice....lots of it. Filthy dirty..... and float at least 2 olives in that glass. And when I say "at least", I really mean three!

(Editor's note: Here's a tip, from me to you- If you are mixing your vodka, which I am a big fan of as well, the cheap stuff will do. Cheap vodka is not going to give you a headache. It's the sugary mix you're adding to it that will cause your head to explode in the morning. Pace yourself with the mixes, and hydrate. Nothing says ugly like hungover AND pickled. That's Drinking 101, folks. You're welcome.)

Well, my mood has improved markedly since I began this rant. And I've just been talking about the booze. Imagine the "Happy" I'd be wearing if I was actually drinking the booze! And, BONUS! I'm pretty sure Tk told me that she uses booze to fight her colds......something about the alcohol content killing the germs. Or something.......

It's 12:25p in BoHo.

I can totally pour myself a cocktail now!

Crazy Love for Michael.

I am spent. Seriously. I don't think I can accomplish anything else today. I might even have to have a cocktail. Really. After the last 2 1/2 hours that I've just endured, I deserve one!

Long story (sure to be ladened with many, many swear words) short: I have spent the entire morning on-line, trying to purchase Michael Buble~ tickets. They went on sale at 10 a.m.

I was on-line at 10:01 a.m.

I was SCREWED by 10:03 a.m!

Took me 10min to reset the goddamn Pop-up filter on my lap top, and by 10:18 a.m., I was choosing "2 Adult tickets, Level 2" and screaming "PLEASE JESUS!" as I hit enter. I was then kicked to a screen where I was told that the "best possible seats" were being chosen for me and DO NOT HIT THE REFRESH BUTTON.

Waiting.......... little circle on my screen going 'round and 'round............. still waiting........

Open another internet screen and begin to review the days news courtesy of People.com, US Magazine & The Huffington Post...........

Still waiting.......(and Suri Cruise is still the ugliest child in Hollywood.)........

Is the DO NOT HIT THE REFRESH BUTTON mocking me.....?

Do I hear crickets.......?

Still. Waiting.

Fast forward 2 hours and 15min later and I'm still F*&^-ING waiting! I would give up, but I've already had several emails from Lynda telling me to be patient; it will be worth it in the end; SUCK IT UP, IMOGENE!, but this is positively ridiculous. Mike better be crooning to me in nothing but his unders at this point!

And then, like a beacon of hope, I spy a little message on the Rose Quarter home page- a reader board running across the screen: If you are experiencing difficulties, click here.......

Considering this process has been more difficult than child birth, you can bet your ass I clicked! I was sent to the Customer Service page (which coincidentally isn't a feature on the home page......Conspiracy? Indeed.) and I immediately dialed the 800 number, saying to myself: All I want for Christmas is to speak to a human being that understands English!

Hello, Taylor. How can you help me? GET ME 2 TICKETS , SECOND LEVEL, TO SEE MICHAEL BUBLE~, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!!!!!

Five minutes later, and alot of giggling on Taylor's end (she either thought I was really funny or seriously crazy......poor dear.), I am the owner of 2 tickets for the April 2 show at the Rose Garden! Level 2, Section 218.

Moral of this story:

Lyndie was right: it was totally worth it.

And:

SUCK IT, Bitches! Lynda & I are going to Michael Buble~!!!

Lookin' for a Mo to love...

Tk is the quintessential Fag Hag. She is the Grace to every Jack McFarland & Will Truman out there. The Mo's literally flock to her. She's like a freakin' magnet!

And I'm jealous.

That's right....I said it, Bitches.

I like to tell people (when I'm about 3 vodkas in and the pc filter has effectively vaporized) that unlike other Blue Haired Ladies, when Tracy is old she will not collect porcelain kitties or other stupid knick knacks. She will simply open her closet door and 25 gay men will just come tumblin' out at her feet. She'll bend down and begin giving each one attention, saying: "Here Mo......Moey Mo.....who's a good Mo? That's riiiiiiight, so pretty! Who wants a cocktail?"

Her Mo's come in all shapes and sizes: the tall & physically fit Athletic Gay, whom I've tried on several occasions to steal for myself and have been thwarted by Tracy at every attempt; the Gourmet Gay who grows his own lemon trees and has his own herb garden; and several "Jack of all Trades" Gays- all of whom are handy both inside and outside the home should you need to remodel a bathroom, install lighting, or want a deck built in your backyard.

Tracy has got Mo's to spare, but she simply won't share. Like, if she gives me one, she'll be breaking up a boxed set or something. She is literally gonna force me to post an ad for my own Gay Boyfriend.

Wanted: GBF for Snarky Brunette. Must have sense of humor & long line of credit. Tastes should include vodka, Michael Buble~, and shopping for mens ties. And if you can Tango, I will whore myself out just to make you mine. Interested? Call 503.580.xxxx Lesbians need not apply.

Tk texted me last night and there is hope on my Gay Horizon. She said I was a hit at the Civil War party last week. That the one Mo in particular with whom I had previously received no love from was raving about me (insert me squealing here!): how sweet & funny I am (insert me yelling at my phone: I am so very funny!). Tracy said that with that kind of adulation from Mister Z himself, my status had risen to "Fag Hag."

Finally! My dream has come true. I'd like to thank Tracy's Gays.......I will not let you down. It's been an amazing experience getting to know all of you and I look forward to the next party where we can gather in the kitchen, slam jello shots and bond over emotional eating.

I do have one question though: Do I get a sash that reads "Fag Hag 2009" and does it come with a matching tiara?

Merry Bah Humbug!

What is it about Christmas that just brings out the crank in me?

Could it be that this year Christmas decorations were visually assaulting me the day after Halloween?

OR, maybe it was because as I was checking out the Halloween gee gaws that were 50% off at Target, my ears began to bleed at the sound of Christmas music.

OR, perhaps it was because the sales clerk at Border's wished me a "Merry Christmas".

On November 22!
.
Yes......I'll do that. After I have a Happy Thanksgiving.

The commercialization of Christmas is sickening. They actually have gift tag holders for gift cards now. Because apparently the little envelope that comes with your gift card purchase wasn't gift wrap-y enough! And who decided that fake trees should be the latest Christmas trend? I've got one word for your fake tree: LAME. And if you hang a pine scented Air Freshener from a branch on your fake tree, here's another word for you: LAME-R!

Whatever happened to trimming the tree and hanging the stockings and just sitting in your darkened room, watching the glow of the Christmas tree lights? Does anybody wrap their gifts in the Sunday Comics anymore? And what in the hell happened to homemade Christmas ornaments? Why does everything have to be so match-y match-y? My Mom still has my brother's Santa House made from an old milk carton, felt and sequins. Granted, it's leaning a skoosh to the right after 25 years of being stored in the hot attic for 11 months out of the year, but it makes us all smile when she pulls it out at Christmas time.

That's the Joy of Christmas, people! It should be about traditions, and memories & doing something for your neighbor. It's about charity and hope and believing in Santa even when you're 39 years old. It's about listening to 'O Holy Night' and being reduced to tears.

These are the thoughts that will carry me through this Season.

That, and alot of Starbuck's Peppermint Mochas- for a limited time only!

Friends Like This.....

I just got an email from one of my Girls inviting me to stop by tonight for cocktail hour. She's serving Blackberry Mint martinis.

Did I mention she lives in Idaho and I live in Oregon?

This is the same GF that sends me random texts that say: "I hate people". And updates me regularly on the weather conditions in BoHo.

Everyone, meet Kristin.

I got another email today, from yet another one of my Girls, telling me that after I left the party last night (Civil War, people......win or lose: Beaver Nation still Rules. The Oregon Ducks SUCK.) someone might have gotten a little pyro with a Chiminea.....which ultimately resulted in cans of vegetables exploding from said fire reciptacle like bottle rockets.


She assured me no one was injured. I commented that the good shit always happens after I leave.......


Everyone, meet Tracy.


And I started my morning off by receiving an early bird email from another of my Girls, telling me she really didn't have anything to report. But did she mention that it was freezing in The Sham? The wind blowing so hard she was fairly certain she'd just lost a nipple to a gust of wind......and would I like to come for a visit and help her fold 17 loads of laundry?

Everyone, meet Lynda.


These are "The Girls".

My Girls.

Each one offers a hand when life has literally got me down. And each one is willing to shove my ass off the curb (and into the path of an on-coming vehicle) should my mouth overrun my brain.

OR, if I'm just desperately in need of a reality check.

Each has their own unique perspective, personality & charm, but they all have one thing in common: M-E.

And I am certain I could not navigate this world without them.

New Moon Over Lyndie

Have you ever made a date with your BFF, shown up and been forced to watch a movie you have no interest in seeing?

Or, how about when you begin to protest said movie that you have no interest in seeing, you are completely dismissed, told YOU WILL watch said movie AND you'll enjoy it....?

What am I? 9?

Hey, how about right before the trailers start to play (which would be your favorite part) your best friend audibly sighs and that's your cue to fetch her some popcorn.

And would you Biggie Size that bad dog and make it post haste?

You know, so she doesn't miss her movie........
(Cuz it ain't YOUR movie. Remember?)

You've sucked it up thus far, so you fetch the popcorn, and return just in time for the trailers and just as the movie you have no interest in seeing rolls its opening, you begin to giggle because you are just that sure of the STUPIDITY of said movie and Someone begins to shriek at you to stop mocking the film; that talking during the movie will not be tolerated and don't make her duct tape your mouth shut!

You know..........................cuz you were lucky to be invited.

Fast forward through 2 hours of Edward, Bella & Jacob; Vampires vs. Wolves; a trip to see the Volturi & a dream sequence where sparkly faced vampires run in slow motion through the forest.

Fade to black, credits roll and.....................................................

Another member of Team Jacob is born!

I turn to my BFF and she immediately puts up her hand and says: Mocking of the Twilight Saga is not allowed.

I say: WHAT? I just had a few questions about the Volturi......

And she says in her all knowing tone: You're gonna wanna read the books, Sister.

Damn. That's Twilight, Bitches.

So shameful.........