or what happened to Baby Jane
Hi. Remember me?
Yeah, I've been lax about updating this here internet diary. Okay, I've been downright negligent. So much so that if this was my baby, CYS would have busted down my door, snatched her up from the center of a pack of feral cats and bitch-slapped my Tammy Faye mascara-streaked, tear-stained face all the way to the pokey.
Mea Culpa. The month ran away from me. I got swept up in pre-Christmas mayhem. My imaginary dog ate my computer mouse.
The God's honest truth of the matter is I just wasn't into writing. I lost my muse, my mojo and my mirth to pen the minutiae of my paltry existence.
But I'm back, for the moment anyway and working my way backwards in December like the movie Momento only without all the murder or short-term memory loss. Okay, maybe a little memory... what was I saying?
Okay, so Geo and I hosted our family's annual Christmas Eve party at our humble abode this year. Through some fluky hole in the universe, I had four days off from the Special K leading up to Christmas which I spent consumed with pouring over menu lists, shopping lists, lists of lists...
*sigh* I make too many lists.
Anywho, four days and one short breakdown later, the doorbell started ringing and various family and friends arrived to nosh, imbibe and be jovial. Who wouldn't be merry drinking from these grooviest of groovy Paul Frank liquor dispensers.
|Red or White?|
Highlight #1: Family FaceTime With Regi
|Merry Christmas from the sisters Pelini, Futurama Girl|
Through the magical world of the interwebs, we had prearranged with our lovely, faraway niece, Regi (who lives in the future, AKA Japan) to FaceTime at 9 bells.
|Gramma's first exposure to the wonders of Apple|
|don't you just LOVE goofy little Guinea Pig arms?|
"damn! i'm not a squeezy toy, yo!"
Again, I am forever grateful to Mr. Jobs and all the beautiful eggheads at Apple for the ability to see and hear our Futurama niece halfway across our shiny, blue planet. *MUAH!!*
Meanwhile, I'm in the dining room talking to my cousins when Geo pops in looking for our little bottle of Pravda vodka. That's when I notice the kitchen is filled with the menfolk and it's getting all noisy up in there.
In case you hadn't noticed, Geo and I like the vodka. It's our firewater of choice. We have a number of different brands, but I didn't realize how many until they were all lined up on the counter and those goofballs were knocking them down one after another. Seven...now six...now five...
Which leads me to:
Highlight #2: Russian caroling
It has been decades since the hubs and I went caroling with his church people. Trust me, it's not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach lining. The event is comprised of singing (sort of) at a dozen homes in which we were plied with liquor and Christmas foods until we couldn't stand or think straight, let alone carry a tune. Except for the old guys. They were hardcore, man. They put all of it away AND drove their big-ass, killing machine Buicks to the next stop without plowing into a 7 Eleven. In hindsight, maybe not the best idea on a snowy January day.
But I digress...
So I casually stroll into the kitchen in time to hear Geo regale the other half-baked y-chromosomes with the first song sung upon entering each home. With gusto. In Russian.
Dude. It was AWESOME!
It was also clear that he had neglected to eat anything that evening. But seriously, freaking awesome! He has a rich baritone voice, but rarely sings in front of people until the proper vodka-shot-to-empty-stomach quotient is hit.
Good times. Good times.
What was the first thing my ever-loving said the next morning when he saw the empties lined up like soldiers on the kitchen counter? "Oh man! Now we have to restock!?!!"
Christmas Day brought our own unique Gifts of the Magi:
and TRAINING BRAS
(not shown here, but given to the brother along with menopause pills and girlie polish for a smart ass comment made in an email. Long story. Watch the video. He's a good sport.)
WITH A LITTLE HAND SANITIZER FOR GOOD MEASURE
|maybe you DID touch yo junk|
And just for grins, here are some merrily inappropriate Christmas decorations courtesy of the most hilarious website in the universe, Happyplace.com.
|what that creepy elf on the|
shelf does while you sleep
lighted money shot
|what's my name, bitch!|