That's not to imply that we didn't have fun! No, as aforementioned, my family's sense of humor is so whickety-whack that we could have turned the Jonestown Massacre into one big game of Kool-Aid Pong. Unfortunately, we had promised the short people snow and apparently Al Roker is a lying, fat bastard because the only white stuff I saw was the citizenry of Bend, Oregon out celebrating a "Very Special Caucasian Christmas". Of course, that didn't stop my dad from whipping out his iPhone every ten minutes to show my son M the weather report and its promises of flurries. Do you know what is like crack to a child with autism? Schedules. Do you know what is a fucking Crispin Glover narrated nightmare for a child with autism? Things that don't adhere to schedule:
"It's supposed to snow today."
"Poppo's phone says it will snow by 2 pm."
"Mommy, it's 2pm...where is the snow?"
"Mommy, Poppo PROMISED it would snow!"
"Jesus in a Jamba Juice, MAKE WITH THE FUCKING SNOW!!!!"
After smashing dad's iPhone with my Cynthia Rowley handbag, I attempted to explain to M the capricious vaguaries of winter weather. Suffice to say, for him my lecture on all things meteorological was harder to understand than Marlon Brando reading "The Jabberwocky" underwater. There comes a time in each parent's life when you simply have to abondon logic and move on to distractions and blatant bribery. So, with such purpose in mind, we corralled the shorties to downtown Bend and the candy mecca known as Powell's Sweet Shoppe.
*The original Gene Wilder version, not the one with that capped tooth, spastic freak, Johnny Depp
. . .and every candy you can recall from your youth. Marathon bars? Charleston Chews? Yup, got 'em here. Violet Crumble bars I haven't had since living in Australia? You betcha!*
*Of course, they cost $8.00. Holly kept eating hers saying "Yup, that bite was $1.25. . .yeah, this one is $2.10. . ."
But did that stop us? Oh,hell to the no. Of course, I can't actually ingest anything in a candy store at present so imagine my joy to find the great expanse of novelty gifts. There was an entire wall of vintage Pez dispensers, Angry Birds and I Love Lucy memorabilia and. . .oh Sweet Baby Jeebus bestill my heart. . .an Entire. Wall. Of BACON! They had bacon gum, bacon toothpaste, bacon wrapping paper, bacon action figures, gummy bacon, chocolate covered bacon. . .if I could only have found a gummy Nathan Fillion at Powell's this would truly have been my Elysium Field. And then I found it, buried beneath the Choclate Virgin Marys and the maple sugar Last Supper. . .the one item to complete my Christmas. . .the Pocket Mr. T.
"I PITY the fool that don't buy me candy!"
So, despite having weather that sucked worse than the televised versions of "Charlie's Angels" and "Friday Night Lights" combined. . .*
*You know what TV DOESN'T need? More Minka Kelly.
. . .we did have an ungodly amount of sugar which kinda makes up for it in my book. We also had lots of board games, good food, inspired gifts and a shit ton of holiday love to go around. In fact, Holly and I would most likely be staying an extra day if it weren't for the karaoke microphone M received yesterday. I like J-Lo as well as the next person (well, actually I loathe her, but I digress), however; listening to a nine-year-old singing "On The Floor" ad nauseum would make Michelle Duggar lose her shit so we're heading up and moving out!
On a slightly sappier note, I want to say thank you to everyone who has been reading my blog this past year. I started this as cartharsis when a dear friend passed away. She always told me, "Girl, you have GOT to write this shit down!" Well, I did, Nancy. . .and people seem to actually be reading it. I miss you so much every day but I know you're up at the Pearly Gates Starbucks laughing your ass off. Thanks to all of you; your comments make my day and I love hearing that I can occasionally bring a smile to your face. You guys are the best!
I also want to send love to some of the miraculous people I've met through the blogging world. Noa, you started all of this. . .I hope you're happy! Shane, thank you for calling me on my shit, I am honored to be part of your Court. Mark and Jaime, warm up the poutine 'cuz I'm coming North! Kevin, I could never properly pay homage to your poetry and mad rappin' skillz ((*fist bump*)), you are truly my British brutha from anutha mutha. Paula and Johi, my fellow Sister Wives, you have given me Fuck You Friday and ponies...what more could a girl want? Liz, Sars, Becca, and Tazer (aka my Twitter-Ho's), we will make Vegas happen. . .be very afraid. Bex, my crazy Kiwi hooker; your tales of excrement and hot rugby players complete me. And to Misty. . .words can't describe the affinity I feel for you, my long-lost twin. I have a special post-holiday gift on its way (but I'm sure as hell not using campus mail this time). I love you all.
To the 'real-life' Jess, Alex, Gina, Kelly and Max; thank you for always keeping it real, making me giggle-snort with laughter, and letting me put our "Stupid Crap" in print for all to see. You guys are so very wrong in all the right ways.
And I would be remiss if I didn't give a holiday blessing to my extraordinary family. Mom, Dad and Holly, you have seen me through more shitstorms and rainbows than anyone on the planet and have never stopped believing I was capable of greater things. Thank you for the love, support, and laughter. Most importantly, to M and J for you are the reason behind everything I do. You two are my heart and soul made manifest and I am in everlasting awe that God saw fit for me to be your mother. I love you to the moon and stars and back again.
Much love to each and every one of you. Happy Holidays!