Monday, December 26, 2011

A Very Mr. T Christmas

         Adeste Fideles, y'all. Hope your Fesivus was as fantabulous as ours. As it was lovely spending the last 4 days 7 hours and 32 minutes (but who's counting) at our cozy vacation home, my sister and I are sadly heading back to P-Town and leaving my parents and short people behind. And by sadly I mean reluctantly. . .and by reluctantly I mean my sister may or may not already have the car idling even as we speak. My sister, Holly made the sage decision to remain childless and while she lovingly dotes on my short people, she is about one Pokemon video away from freebasing a cocktail of Ortho-Tricyclen and Ativan so we had best be getting her home, STAT.

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.

Powell's is everything that is good and right with the world. It is a candy store to end all candy stores; the walls lined with bins of bulk sweets, a glass counter encasing decadent chocolate delights, approximately 15 flavors of gelato, "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" playing on a constant loop on a theater screen. . .*

*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!"

Now Lord knows I have not been perfect this year. On Santa's "Nice" list my name has more eraser marks than Jessica Simpson's SATs, but something told me the jolly fat man wanted me to have this, and I thought "what better way to ameliorate my families suffering this holiday season than by hearing Mr. T tell them to 'QUIT YO' JIBBER-JABBING!' every few minutes?" I'm a giver like that.

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!


Gia said...

Sounds like a great time! I 110% fully support bribery for kids, especially on holidays.

Merry Christmas!

Andrea said...

Since you clearly have the strength of the entire A-team for not chaining yourself to that toxic waste barrel of candy until they add sugar back into your diet, you absotootly deserved to have Mr. T in your pocket. I am not sure if that is the next best thing to Nathan in your pocket, but I hope you made it work for you!

Bloggertobenamedlater said...

I am only now headed back to the land of electricity and running water and mercifully, no mosquitoes. Since I think we can all agree that DC Cab was the greatest movie of all time, your Mr T find is impressive and inspires envy. It sounds like your Christmas was massively awesome, and great minds need to relax a bit to inspire more greatness. Here's to a fab 2012.

Jo said...

What a lovely Jen post this was! You are an artiste with words, creating images effortlessly for those of who who stalk you.

So glad you had a wonderful family Christmas (minus the lack of snow)!

Vesta Vayne said...

Mr. T in your pocket? Now that is indeed the holiday spirit. Please tell me you plan to bring it to work with you, so that every time Office Skank comes in wearing something inappropriate you can hit the button for some 'pity the fool'.

Anonymous said...

Damn girl, are you TRYING to kill yourself? You obviously have the willpower of a freaking nun to not partake in these recent holiday temptations! Huzzah!! You sooo deserve a talking Mr. T. The hubs picked up one of those things, but with star wars noises. For days, I have had the joy of hearing Chewbacca make that lovely warbling sound he is famous for. Over & over & over. Good times.

You know I love you, too woman. Anxiously awaiting what is sure to be an epic gift. :D Did you get my card?

Anonymous said...

Have you see How To Speak Wookie? I think you need to find yourself a copy. It will appeal to your inner Mr. T voice.

Carrie - Cannibalistic Nerd said...

Any store that sells shit tons of candy and Mr. T novelty gifts has a perfect business plan.

mark said...

I pity the fool that doesn't read your blog. Thanks for all the laughs and sharing your terrific wit with us and don't worry-the poutine is always hot and Tim Hortons is on every corner. Canada eagerly awaits your arrival.

Jen said...

GIA - 95% of my parenting is based on bribery. The other 5% is simply exhausting them through physical exertion.

ANDREA - Nathan in my pocket would likely lead to a restraining order. ;)

KVETCHMOM - MUST find that book! I can already imitate all of the Mario Kart voices so Wookie is the logical next step.

CARRIE - Powells is my mecca.

MARK - I forgot about Timmys! SQUEE!!! I anticipate a french fry and doughnut binge of epic proportions. :)

Jen said...

BLOGGER - Girl, you are way more daring than I am! For me, camping means "no room service". You are a rock star!

JO - Aw, thanks Chica! You can stalk me any time. :)

VESTA - I'm saving the "Back off, Man!" message just for Office Skank. Trust me, there is not enough pity for that damned fool.

MISTY - Pfft! Of course I haven't gottrn your card; the US Mail HATES us! By the way, will you resend me your address? I have a little sumpin-sumpin for you. ;)

Anonymous said...

We have a Powells here too, but I've always avoided it like the plague because MY short people manage to find more than enough sugar to be hopped up on a regular basis. I think sugar follows them home.

I might have to pop in on my own, though, if they're selling Mr. T gifts. I love the A-team more than is entirely healthy.

We had a lovely holiday with the usual ridiculousness, and I can't wait until my short people go back to hanging with Grandma. I love them to pieces but it's a lot easier when they're not immediately underfoot.

Johi said...

The Mr. T in your pocket makes me believe in Christmas Miracles.

Love you too Jen. I guess I can thank Noa for that. This was a great post- as usual.

Jen said...

ANDI - Mr. T gifts AND Baby Jesus chocolate bars! It is a heretics heaven!

JOHI - I just got back from the library and brought my Mr. T. I almost peed myself busting out "I PITY THE FOOL!" and then running away while everyone looked frightened and bemused. heh-heh-heh!

Anonymous said...

Oregon has everything...Voodoo Donuts, this candy store...I'm moving there!

Anonymous said...

As if reading Noa's blog wasn't enough to kill me I've wandered over here and now you're talking about sugary goodness. Found Powells near Windsor California this year and vowed never to step foot in again without a note from my dentist. Actually I think the note was a bill but who's really paying attention.

Anyway, I saw the mention of Bend and had to make mention of my wonderful few months there last year. The Oxford on Minnesota was my home base for several trips up to the "City that rolls up its sidewalks at 6pm except for any place that serves beer". Actually designed the Bend Broadband Vault project over on Sockeye. (little pat on the back for me.... HAHA!).

Thanks again for the wonderful commentary over on OhNoa and of course, look forward to reading your own blog in the new year!

Anonymous said...

No love for your internal-organ twin? Is it because of the ham?

Jen said...

THOUGHTSY - Oregon is rad as shit, fo sho. We've got it all!

DCOOP - I shall think of you when I'm over by Sockeye. :) Yeah, Bend is pretty lame during the off-season but now that all of the skiiers are in town they tear it up til the wee hours, yo!

HOODY - Shit! I'm sorry! You know I have much love for you and your pancreas; can't believe I forgot...blame it on low blood-sugar.

CiCi said...

Thank you for your blog Jen, you've made me realize I'm not the only psychotic bastard out there that God allowed to raise small people. I hope you and yours have a truly blessed 2012.

-side note: *fist bump* for the "Jibba Jabbing" quote...I actually just used "Jibba Jabba" in a text to a friend about two hours ago.

(word verification is dimpolor, a dumb polar bear, or a rare skin disease?)

Becca said...

awwwwwww you got all squishy on me... I love you too ho! VEGAS, VEGAS, VEGAS!

Scott Jung said...

I pity the fool who doesn't get this toy!

This made me laugh and to, I'm sure, my doom in will be following along for a while.


Jen said...

CICI - It's crazy "oh-my-God-I-don't-even-like-kids-so-why-am-I-a-parent" people like us that speak the truth and make all of those faux-perfect parents wish they had the strength and integrity to admit that they would love to abandon their 24/7 Mommy Track and actually have a life. No, I don't volunteer for every fundraiser and field trip, and no, I don't cut organic snacks into the shapes of endangered species, but I am always there. Plays? Check. Concerts? Check? Marathon 'Chutes & Ladders' tournaments? Hell to the freakin' check. And loving my short people to death if the only redeeming thing they do is complete viewing an episode of 'Victorious'? Yes, yes, and yet again, YES!

BECCA - I am a total sap. . .don't judge. . .I might cry. . .

SCOTT - The Mr. T. Pocket Voice has become my Colridge-esque Albatross; both the bane and the veritable meaning for my existance.

Charity Woosley said...

I'm fucking pissed I didn't make the 'twitter skanks' list. Bitch.

Also, I missed you guys and am SO glad to be back!

CiCi said...

AMEN Sister wife! A-friggin-men! Well said!