In honor of the impending Christmas holiday...

I received this in an email from Pam.

Twas the night before Christmas
and all round my hips
Were Fannie May candies
that sneaked past my lips.

Fudge brownies were stored
in the freezer with care,
In hopes that my thighs
would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle
and I in chin straps
Had just settled down
to sugar-borne naps.

When out in the pantry
there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed
to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen
I flew like a flash,
Tore open the icebox
then threw up the sash.

The marshmallow look
of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge
to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!

That huge chunk of candy
so luscious and slick
I knew in a second
that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated Santa,
those sugared reindeer,
I closed my eyes tightly
but still I could hear;

On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
Now dash away pounds; now dash away all.

Dressed up in Lane Bryant
from my head to nightdress
My clothes were all bulging
from too much excess.

My droll little mouth
and my round little belly
They shook when I laughed
like a bowl full of jelly.

I spoke not a word
but went straight to my work
Ate all of the candy
then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger
beside my heartburn
Gave a quick nod toward
the bedroom I turned.

I eased into bed,
to the heavens I cry
If temptation's removed
I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again
as I turned for the night
"In the morning I'll starve...
'til I take that first bite!"

Author Unknown (it came in a forward)

Merry Christmas, Everyone! :)

Tis the season for cheesy TV movies...

This past weekend, I spent not one, but both days off becoming one with my couch. It's been a while since I've spent that kind of quality time with a piece of furniture that is not my bed or my office chair at work. However, please note that this reacquaintance was not by choice, but by necessity.

Anyways, quality time with the couch usually results in some quality time with the TV as well. And with Christmas so quickly approaching, station such as Lifetime, Oxygen, and Hallmark innundate the airwaves with a plethora of holiday themed made for tv movies.

Yesterday, with little else to do, and my remote lost somewhere between the cushions, I was forced to watch the Hallmark channel. And on the Hallmark channel, there was a movie called, "Single Santa Seeking Mrs. Clause," and unfortunately, the sequel, aptly titled, "Meet the Santas." No, neither of the movies starred that intrepid actor, Rob "king of the Lifetime movie" Lowe, but Steve "where did my acting career go" Guttenberg. This is a picture from the wedding scene of the movie:

Did anyone else notice that Steve Guttenberg is Jewish? I found it rather ironic and humorous that a Christmas movie about Santa was played by a Jewish actor.

Don't get me wrong--I had a Jewish friend/roomate once. Jewish people are great, and they have some really interesting and yummy delicacies like Matza ball soup, farfel, brisquet, and kuegel.

I was just pointing out the irony of a predominately Christian myth being portrayed by Steve Guttenberg, best known for the"Police Academy" movies, and very little else since 1985.

I'm wary of posting this, though, because some crazy person (be it man or woman) who's totally in love with Steve may be ranting to me about how jealous I am of his career, and most especially, his money, because, honestly--who WOULDN'T want to be Steve Guttenberg!?!

In honor of the impending holiday...

I Elfed myself. Apparently, I make a pretty cute elf! And if you're feeling adventurous, you can watch me shake my elfalicious self, here. And when that's done--you can go Elf yourself, too!!

Thanks to Tracy ( a pretty darn cute elf, herself!) for giving me the hookup! :)

The new 'man' in my life...

Every fall, without fail, I find a new man living in my apartment. Last year, his name was George. This year, his name is Fred. Fred the ladybug.

I'm not sure if this Fred the same Fred from a few months ago. I'm sure that the Fred's come and go at random. But either way, we co-exist in harmony and peace. I do things for Fred--mainly saving him from eminent death. No matter what, if I'm around, Fred will not succumb to a watery demise on my watch. I've saved him from the bathroom sink, covered in toothpaste. I've scooped him out of hot dishwater. I've flipped him right side up after he went on a night long bender and ended up on the counter top. This morning, I found Fred seeking refuge in my bed as I ran out the door to work.

Don't get me wrong--I am NOT a bug person. If Fred was a spider--he wouldn't be around long enough to GET a name. But then again, Fred doesn't bite. Fred doesn't scurry frantically along baseboards, and hide in ceiling corners, and fall onto my head, either. Fred merely gravitates toward the warmest lights in the house, settles in, and stays there.

I know what you're thinking--and no, I don't need a psychiatric evaluation. I think I'm just stuck in the living alone and not having anyone to talk to syndrome. Fred fulfills that need. Without Bubba or Ralphie, I get lonely--and I look for things to talk to. This time it just happens to be a ladybug instead of a plant or a fish. At least it's not a cat. I might be sad and lonely--but I am NOT a crazy cat woman.

For that I can be thankful.

Bunnies gone...wild?

As an avid reader of Craigslist, I usually touch on a multitude of different categories during the course of the day. I read rideshare (to find out where other people are going, and see if that's somewhere I would like to go, too). Sometimes I chech out the rants and raves (or post my own rants). I look through apartments and roomates (because even though I'm happy with my current living situation, you never know when circumstances may change and I'll be forced to move). I like to check out the free stuff, furniture, and household items, just to see what kind of stuff is out there. And I like to read the lost and found (because I never know when I might have lost something and just haven't realized it yet!).

On reading the lost and found today, there was not just one listing for a found bunny--but two. TWO found bunnies listed today. What is wrong with the world when poor, defenseless little bunnies are thrust so cruelly into the streets, far away from their beds of shredded cedar, and in some cases, pristine litter boxes? How could someone throw out something so cute and cuddly? Did your bunny go on a wild rottweiler-esque spree, maiming carrots and toes? Or perhaps the wife wouldn't let you blame the noxious odors on the tiny fluffball anymore, and you realized that it was indeed time to upgrade to a dog?

Pet bunnies, just like dogs and cats, are domesticated for home and cage living. As much as you might think it's 'humane' to release this animal to nature (or the mean streets of Richmond), remember that carrots do not grow from asphalt....and that the bunny is not rejoicing at their new found freedom.

If you discover yourself in a pet situation that you cannot handle any longer, at least have the courtesy to take the animal to the local humane shelter. There, they will receive food and care, and possibly a new home. I'm not sure if bunnies have rescue organizations like greyhounds
or turtles but it's worth a shot.

Besides, how could you want to hurt this? I almost want to go out and get my own bunny.