Wednesday, December 23, 2009

The Real Reason Santa Wears Red

Leland and I are a one car family so I drop him off at work before I head to work and pick him up on my way home. He works only a few minutes from home, so it’s not out of the way at all. Today Leland wanted to be able to leave work early, so he drove me instead.

I always enjoy it when Leland drives me to work. That extra time together in the morning always perks me up and leaves me in a good mood. On the ride this morning, Leland and I started talking about Santa and how parents aren’t afraid to use Santa as a threat to their kids.

You better be good, Santa is watching.

If you keep misbehaving I am going to call Santa and tell him you were bad.

Only good little kids get presents from Santa.

Watching these threats work on my nephew, Leland wondered why parents don’t use this threat year-round.

Trying to explain to him that young children don’t see that far into the future, he still insisted that it was a good idea.

“Here’s how it would work,” Leland said. “At first you could threatened your child by saying that Santa is watching and if he continues to be bad that Santa won’t come to their house this year. If the child is still bad, then tell them that Santa won’t come the following year either. If that still doesn’t work, let them know that Santa will now be taking back gifts he already bought them. At this point though, kids will probably not care anymore about gifts, so you may have to tell them that if the bad behavior still continues, that Santa will come and beat them in their sleep, which is the real reason Santa’s suit is red. It’s covered in the blood of bad children. And if you want to be really extreme (like that isn’t extreme enough), you could tell them that Rudolph’s nose is red because when Santa is done beating them in their sleep, Rudolph comes in and guts them with his nose and antlers.”

That, my friends, is Leland’s idea for parenting. I guess my kids are going to be pretty fucked up, huh?

And it doesn’t even end there.

“We could even change the lyrics of Christmas songs to let the kids know that Santa should not be messed with,” Leland said.

“So you think it is a good idea to vilify Santa?” I asked.

“Sure because I know I wouldn't want to mess with someone who beats kids in their sleep and uses his pets to rip their guts out,” Leland said.

Fair enough.

So Leland started singing:

You better not shout,
You better not cry,
You better not pout
Or he’ll punch you in the eye
Santa Claus is gonna beat you down.

He knows when you’ve been sleeping,
He knows when you’re awake,
He knows when you’ve been bad or good,
If you’re bad your nose he’ll break.

Merry Christmas everyone! Have a fun, safe and happy holiday!

***Just in case you were wondering, Leland and I are both AGAINST beating children. I see how you might have been confused by this post***

Friday, December 18, 2009

New Years Resolutions

Because someone mentioned to me that I might need to put an “Adult Content” warning on my blog, I decided to write a “clean” post. Don’t worry, it won’t last too long!

Here’s my attempt at cleaning up my act:

Like most people, every year I make some new resolutions. I try to make sure they are things I can actually accomplish, and try to keep them more specific than just lose weight. It has been a while since I have actually kept a resolution. The last one I followed through on was the year I decided to read 75 books. During that year I was a reading machine. I limited myself to only 15 chick-lit books. The other 60 had to be something I could learn from. I read a lot of biographies, history, and classics I had never read before. I became quite the know-it-all and I know I got on a lot of nerves.

I decided to read 75 books because I had just graduated college and was afraid of becoming stupid and losing my literary skills. It was a fun and challenging year that culminated in a nose bleed. I was finishing book number 75 and it was December 31. I was reading Cunt by Inga Muscio. No, I am not being dirty again, this was actually a very good, enlightening book that every woman and man should read. Leland read it and he now says he has more cunt-pride than most women. Anyway…Leland and I were in Toronto with our friend Eric for New Year’s Eve and they were sitting in the hotel room, watching me flip pages, getting closer and closer to the end of the book. When I was done, I calmly put the book down and let out a big breath. I was done.

Leland and Eric started celebrating for me, jumping on the bed and high-fiving. Something happened and there was a high-five snafu. Somehow Leland high-fived Eric’s face instead of his hand and Eric got a nose bleed. Always the good sport, he said he did it for me.

This year I have made a few resolutions for myself that if followed through on, should help me reach some personal goals for myself. Yes, of course, I want to lose weight, but I wanted to be more specific. I want to keep writing, but just saying I want to write isn’t enough to keep me in line. And I haven’t read a book in a long time and want to do more of that.

So without further ado, here are my New Years Resolutions:

1. Walk 2010 miles in 2010. On average, most people walk about 1.5 miles a day with just the normal amount of footsteps they take. I have asked Leland to buy me a pedometer for Christmas so I will be able to count every step. To make my goal, I will have to walk 5.5 miles a day. This will most likely help me with my weight loss goal as well.
2. Write 2010 words every week in 2010. That comes out to being 402 words a day, five days a week. NaNoWriMo was awesome because it got me writing, but spitting out 2000 words a day for a month allowed me to spit out 2000 words a day for a month. It was like literary diarrhea. 402 words a day will help me to produce a good amount of writing that should hopefully be worth something.
3. Read 2010 pages every month in 2010. That should come out to be about 4-6 books a month, depending on the length of the book, obviously. This time I am not putting any requirements on what I read, just as long as I am reading. I’m figuring with the other two resolutions, I will probably want some less challenging books to read and I don’t want to set myself up to fail.

So there you have it. Since so many of you seemed to enjoy the first BJ story, please stay tuned. I have one more for you.

I told you the cleanliness would be short lived!

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

A BJ Story. Yes, It is What You Think

Secretia over at Secret Story Time asked her readers to tell her about the time they learned about sex. This is definitely worth a blog post.

I am sure I learned about sex and reproduction at some point, I just can’t remember the actual details. Maybe my parents talked to me, maybe I learned it in school. My mom wasn’t big on talking about sex, she just told my sisters and I over and over again that we were not allowed to have sex. End of story.

There is one conversation about sex that I remember fairly vividly. It was the first time I learned about blow jobs. Or head. Or blowies. But when I was 12 and just learning all about BJ’s, no one ever called it Oral Sex. I mean, come on, we were all pubescent teenagers. Of course we aren’t going to call it oral sex.

When I was growing up, I had a group of friends from my street that I would hang out with on weekends. Okay, maybe not friends, I mostly just tagged along with my older sister. They were all older than me, they were definitely bad influences on me, but for some reason my parents loved them so it was okay that I hung out with them. I was 12 years old and on the weekends and during the summer we would hang out until well into the middle of the night.

While we were together we were usually doing super innocent stuff like laying in the middle of the street looking at the stars, playing ghost in the graveyard (we thought it was super funny to yell BLOODY TAMPON instead of GHOST IN THE GRAVEYARD. We were so clever), playing spin-the-bottle, or just walking around the neighborhood. It was during these times that I had my first kiss. But since there were four boys, I don’t remember who my first kiss actually was. I was always too nervous to French kiss, so maybe those kisses don’t count as my first kiss after all.

Things weren’t always so innocent though. I distinctly remember playing Red Rover in Tony and Brian’s backyard and having Brian try to talk me into saying swear words. I eventually gave in and repeated them back to him, but I did so in a whisper which made everyone laugh at me and call me a baby. My sister Elisabeth stood up for me though, which seemed to make it all okay.

Another time we were all hanging out, pulling a late night. We couldn’t find a bottle to play spin-the-bottle with, so we ended up walking around the neighborhood. Eric, who was 14 at the time, asked me if a friend of mine thought he was cute. We talked about her for a little while, and then he asked me, “Do you give head?”

“What’s head?” I asked.
Eric laughed at me and then made sure to tell everyone I didn’t know what head was.
“Head is a blow job,” Eric said.
Not learning from my first admission I asked, “What’s a blow job?”

Again, more laughs. I was so embarrassed. I was the youngest one in the group and I always tried so hard to fit in and act older than I was, and here I was, throwing months of acting out the window. Stoltz came to my rescue. He got the guys to shut up and stop laughing. As I hung back from the group on the walk home, he walked with me.

“So, are you gonna tell me what Eric was talking about?” I asked him.

“Probably not, you are a little young,” Stoltz said. Stoltz was the oldest in the group. The same person who was explaining blow jobs to me was actually my babysitter at one point. How fucked up is that?

“Really? You can’t let this happen to me again. I need to know what they are talking about so they don’t think I’m a baby. I’m 12, almost 13. I can handle it,” I said.

So for the rest of the walk back to our street, Stoltz told me all about blow jobs. He told me that some people spit and others swallow, and if I was ever asked which one I did, I should always say I swallow, even if it was a lie. He told me that most guys liked blow jobs better than sex, so if I wasn’t ready for sex I could just give a blow job. He told me that when I do give a blow job I should remember to fondle the guy’s balls. He told me the only time I should use teeth during a blowy was if the guy forced his dick into my mouth. If that happened, he told me to bite the damn thing off.

While he was telling me all of this, I was trying to remain calm and cool. I didn’t want him to know how grossed out I was at the thought of putting a guys dick in my mouth. I just smiled and nodded and took in the info. There is no way in hell I am ever doing that! I thought to myself. Yuck!

The conversation came in handy though. I was able to teach all of my friends about blowies. And if some older boy at school was ever being mean to me, I just told him to cut it out or I would bite his dick off. Worked every time. Occasionally some asshole would ask me if I spit or swallow and since I was prepared all I had to say was “your dick will never have the pleasure of being in my mouth so that really doesn’t matter.”

Maybe my friends from my neighborhood weren’t such bad influences on me after all. My midnight tutoring on blow jobs did come in handy and I learned a lot about the person I wanted to be from hanging out with them. Which basically meant that I decided I would rather be a prude than ever put a dick in my mouth. And I was a prude. Up until the day I met Leland.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Man Crushes

On Sunday afternoon, Leland and I were sitting on the couch eating lunch and watching Saturday’s edition of Saturday Night Live. We don’t usually watch SNL, but Leland wanted me to DVR it because he wanted to see Taylor Lautner hosting the show. Yes, you read that correctly, Leland wanted to see Taylor Lautner. I wasn’t complaining because I think Taylor is all kinds of yummy and have always been on Team Jacob, I was just surprised that Leland wanted to watch. Like most men, Leland doesn’t understand why so many people have gone Twilight crazy. Whenever I ask him to take me to see New Moon he just rolls his eyes and says “Suicide is an option.”

When he asked me to DVR SNL I asked him why.

“Because Taylor is hot,” Leland said, “I want to see if he takes his shirt off.”

If you saw the episode, you know that much to Leland’s disappointment, he kept his shirt buttoned up tight. But that didn’t keep him from being glued to the television. He “ooh”ed and “ahh”ed pretty damn often and kept saying things like, “he is such a man for only being 17,” and “he is sooo hot,” and “why doesn’t he take his shirt off?” By the time we were done watching, I was fairly concerned. I wasn’t really sure what to think of the reaction MY HUSBAND was having to Taylor Lautner. I know I was having a reaction, but was taken aback by the fact that MY HUSBAND was having a greater reaction than I was. Aren’t I supposed to be the woman in the relationship?

Later that night Leland said to me, “I think I am going to add Taylor Lautner to my Top 5.”

“You are adding a guy to your Top 5?” I asked.

“Well I’ll have to make a list of just guys. Right now it will only be a Top 3 list because I can only think of three guys I would let put it in my ass. Taylor is one, and Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman are the other two,” Leland said.

So Leland has man crushes. I can handle that. And I cannot deny that Taylor, Ryan and Hugh are all very delicious.

“You know, Taylor is pretty much shirtless for all of New Moon,” I said.

“Really?” Leland said. “Let’s go see it this week.”

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Happy Dance Down the Stairs, Merry SITSmas, and a Survey

Merry SITSmas! New to SITS? Just click here.

Merry Christmas to all my blogging friends! Especially to Cathy at Antsy Pants. I am currently blaming her for the snow I am getting in my neck of the woods. I honestly believe that if she hadn’t been wishing for snow I wouldn’t have to shovel my driveway this evening.

And even though I am blaming Cathy for the snow, I can’t lie and say I completely hate the snow. When I woke this morning and saw the ground covered, I actually did a little happy dance in the upstairs hallway. And then I lost my balance and slid down a few stairs. I can only blame myself for that one. I have been a klutz my whole life, I should have learned by now that doing any kind of dance at the top of the stairs is a bad idea.

Now that I am at work though, the snow doesn’t make me happy. I know it’s going to take me twice as long to get home tonight and then I have at least two hours of cardio in front of me while I shovel my driveway. But always in the Christmas spirit, I am listening to some Christmas tunes and singing at my desk. Maybe tonight Leland and I will go for a walk in the snow, holding hands to help keep each other warm. How sweet would that be?

This survey has been going around some blogs I read and I thought this would be the perfect time to pass along a Christmas survey. Created by Mandy at Mandy’s Life After 30. Here are her rules:

If you're reading this post, then you must:

(a) leave a comment and answer the below 25 questions that Mandy made up,

(b) write the answers to the questions below in your own blog post, if you have a blog, that is.

or (c) call yourself a scrooge in the comment below and refuse to answer them.

I hope you choose (A) or (B) but if you choose (C) then I'll just let the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future deal with you. If you do decide to write your own blog post about it, please mention Mandy since she is the author of these important questions. (Writers credit and all that jazz - thanks!)

Okay, here goes.

(1) What is your favorite Christmas movie?
I love Elf. I watch it as many times during the holiday season as Leland will let me get away with. It usually ends up being once a week.


(2) What is your LEAST favorite Christmas movie?
White Christmas, all the singing and dancing really annoys me and the story line drives me nuts. If people just talked to each other there wouldn’t be all the confusion!

(3) What is your favorite Christmas song?
Let it Snow. And anything sung by Harry Connick Jr. Love him.


(4) What Christmas song(s) drives you crazy?
I’ll be Home for Christmas. It’s depressing. “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams?” Please, I have no room for sadness in my life around the holidays.


(5) What is your favorite Christmas drink? (i.e. egg nog, hot chocolate)
Lots of rum with a shot of egg nog!


(6) What is your favorite Christmas memory?
Waking up Christmas morning when I was a child. I would always try and get up some time during the night and peak at my stocking. But then in the morning when all of the gifts were magically under the tree, sitting around in PJs waiting for mom to make breakfast so we could open gifts, it was just so magical.


(7) What is the best toy/gift you've received on Christmas?
The original Nintendo. My sisters and I were so pumped. I also loved my bean bag chair, and my weaving loom (though I hated it when I first opened it, I came to love it later.)


(8) What is the worst toy/gift you've received on Christmas?
My grandma always gave my sisters and I these god awful sweaters. They were usually pink with little bunnies on them. They stayed in my bottom drawer until I knew they wouldn’t fit any more and then went directly in the garbage. I wasn’t going to put my ugly sweater in the goodwill bag. Trust me, no one would want to wear these sweaters.

(9) What do you LOVE about the holidays?
The magic.

(10) What annoys you about the holidays?
Parking lots. During the holidays I have serious parking lot rage. I do my best to stay as far away from them as I can. And if I can’t, I always park as far back as possible. Even the biggest Who can lose control and end up ramming the car into a pedestrian that stopped in the middle of a lane to talk to someone, blocking the flow of traffic.


(11) Do you prefer star or angel on top of a Christmas tree? Or something else?
I have an angel on the top of my tree, but I like either one.

(12) What is your family favorite recipe at Christmas?
Pierogis. Yum.

(13) Are you a Grinch or a Who at Christmastime?
I am a Who all the way. I have no idea how many times I say “Christmas is a magical time,” all year round. Some people actually find me annoying because I am so wound up and overflowing with Christmas spirit.


(14) Christmas light displays - Love them or Hate them?
Love them. Leland and I drive around every year looking for the biggest, gaudiest, loudest display. We drink hot chocolate and listen to Christmas music, and then make fun of the people who have no taste.



(15) Santas at the mall - Fun times or Creepy?
It depends. I think it’s magical looking at all the kids standing in line, with looks of hope and excitement. However, if the Santa was like Bad Santa, I would take my child and run.

(16) Christmas cards - do you send them, yes or no?
I usually don’t, but I actually have them all signed and ready to be mailed this year. I usually forgo Christmas cards for Valentine’s Day cards but I guess I am doing both this time around.



(17) What is the best thing about Christmas, in your opinion?
The holiday spirit, time with family, snuggling up in front of the fire, decorating the house, making cookies, listening to Christmas music, ordering things online and then getting excited when they get delivered, finding the perfect gift for everyone…I can go on and on.

(18) What is the worst thing about Christmas?
Scrooges. I’m still trying to convert Leland from a Grinch to a Who. It’s a slow process.

(19) When do you put the tree up and take it down?
We always put it up Thanksgiving weekend and it comes down sometime after Christmas. Sometimes it’s the day after, sometimes it’s the following week.

(20) Out of the 12 days of Christmas, which day and item would you want your true love to give to you?
Not a partridge in a pear tree because birds sort of freak me out. So that leaves out French hens, calling birds, turtle doves, and the geese. I think I’ll go with the golden rings, because then I can turn my gold into cash!

(21) Why do you think that Grandma got run over by a reindeer?
Because he was mad at her for getting him an ugly sweater for Christmas.

(22) Who is your favorite reindeer?
Vixen.


(23) Do you believe in Santa Claus?
I believe in the magic of Christmas. Christmas is a magical time!


(24) What is your favorite smell at Christmastime?
Real Christmas trees and cookies baking in the oven.


(25) What would make you happy at Christmas this year?
A drama free day. Or two. I would also be happy if I managed to not gain any holiday weight.


Off Christmas topic...
Five years ago Dimebag Darrell was killed onstage during a concert. For those of you who don't know, Dime was the guitar player in Pantera, Damageplan, and Rebel Meets Rebel. He is considered the most influential guitar player in heavy metal music. He was Leland's greatest influence and a whisky drinker. Tonight we will be doing shots in his name. If you are interested in learning more about Dime, click here.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

What's In A Name?

I work in a small office with only two other people. During a normal workday we probably spend about 3 hours just chatting with each other. We talk about our families, weekend plans, complain about the boss and talk about other people.

That’s right. We gossip. And I am the only female. Sometimes I think men are worse gossipers than women. Anyway….

We try to be as nice about our gossiping as possible, so we have given all of the people we talk about nicknames. Check them out:

Stroke it: A man who used to work here but was fired for repeatedly getting caught masturbating on the job. True story.

Anti-Santa: A truck driver who looks like Santa but is a big ass. He also likes to use my bathroom just to spite me because I put a “No Men Allowed” sign on the door. Forgive me for not wanting to clean pee off the seat every time I use the bathroom.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum: The guys who own the body shop next door. They like to race their cars up and down the parking lot and then give you the finger when they pull out in front of you and almost cause an accident.

My Boyfriend: Another truck driver we see every day. He looks at me like I’m an ice cream cone on a hot day and always asks when I am getting divorced so he can take me out. Yuck.

Banana Peel: The woman who owns the dance studio next door and always seems to be falling on her butt. Since she moved in last year we have seen her fall 7 times. Not a very graceful dance teacher!

Which brings me to the last one: Shit Stain.

Shit Stain is my least favorite person from work. He is one of our customers and probably comes in once or twice a week to pick up some parts. Let me paint you a picture.

He is about 40, balding, with a patchy beard that he is constantly scratching.
He wears small shirts that show off his sizeable beer belly.
His jeans never seem to cover his butt crack.
He ALWAYS smells like a fart.

Yesterday I was in the warehouse, filing some paperwork for the shipping guy. I heard my GM talking to someone in the office, but when I got back into the office, I didn’t see or hear anyone. I just sat at my desk and starting doing my work. After a few minutes, I noticed that it was smelling gross. I have a pumpkin scented air freshener that usually blocks all things offensive, but this smell was breaking through.

“Ugh,” I said out loud. “Why does it smell like fart in here?”

I heard someone come around the corner and looked behind me. Shit Stain was standing there with my GM. Without even thinking about what I was saying, I looked at Shit Stain and said, “Oh, I thought I smelled something.”

That’s right. I totally and completely crossed the line into an unprofessional territory and told a customer that he smelled like fart. After that, he left pretty damn quickly. I expected to get a slap on the wrist when Shit Stain left, but instead the GM just laughed.

“You know,” the GM said, “If he never comes back you might actually get a raise.”

As it turns out, the boss man hates Shit Stain. He just may be one of the grossest and laziest men around. When the company first moved into the complex we are in now, Shit Stain ran his business from a few doors down. Everyday when he would walk to the mailbox, he would take his dog with him, passing our unit. If the weather was nice, we would often leave the front door propped open to get some fresh air.

Shit Stain never walked his dog on a leash, and for some reason thought it was totally okay when his dog wandered in to other people’s units. At first we really didn’t care that Scooter was coming for a visit, but then he seemed to get too comfortable. Whenever Scooter walked into out unit, he would poop on the floor. It became his lunchtime ritual. Shit Stain would come into our office, apologize for the poop, get Scooter and leave. WITHOUT CLEANING UP AFTER HIS DOG.

It didn’t take us long to learn to close the door at lunchtime.

Now I am just waiting for the day when I accidentally call him Shit Stain to his face. I don’t actually know his real name and he has been Shit Stain for so long. It is bound to happen. And I can really use that raise.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Being a Slacker

I have not been on Blogger in a week. You know how it goes, busy with the holiday and stuff, writing a novel in 30 days. Now that Thanksgiving is over and I reached my goal of 50,000 words I will be back commenting and posting regularly.

Over the holiday weekend I realized that I am very thankful for my job. Yes, it’s nice to be able to pay my bills and be a productive member of society, but I also realized having a job keeps me in line. I know this may come as a shock to all of you (insert sarcasm here) but when I’m not working, I tend to get a little crazy. Like I said, shocking.

On Wednesday night Leland and I went to the local Turkey Testicle Festival and had too much to drink and spent too much money. Yes, I tried the turkey balls. They were juicy and squirted in my mouth, which I didn’t really appreciate. Thursday was Thanksgiving, and though I didn’t spend any money, I still drank too much. And though I can’t remember what I did on Friday, I am willing to bet I drank too much on that day as well.

Oh, wait! I do remember what I did on Friday!!!

I reached my 50,000 word goal for National Novel Writing Month and Leland took me out to dinner to celebrate.

On Saturday we got a Christmas tree and decorated the house, then guess what we did that night?

We went out drinking with a friend for her birthday and guess what I did?

I drank too much. So much that on Sunday I was hung over all day. And I also spent too much. Leland was not happy when he saw my bar tab!

It’s hard to get into so much trouble with a two day weekend. But apparently four day weekends are just long enough to make me appreciate my job and my sobriety.