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Post-Holiday Meltdown

Is it just me, or do the holidays get more expensive and exhausting every year?

By now, if you haven’t spent your entire paycheck, come down with the flu, sold a kidney, or lost your mind, I’d say you’re in pretty good shape and coping quite well with your postholiday meltdown so far.

I really don’t understand how Christmas has become so expensive and exhausting over the years, especially if the purpose of the holiday is supposed to be getting together with loved ones and celebrating Jesus’ birthday.

The other week, I was sitting next to a kid in a waiting room who was coloring a picture of the nativity scene. I complimented him on his artwork and how well he colored the baby Jesus. He looked up at me with a bewildered look and shouted “WHO THE HECK IS BABY JESUS?” I told him that baby Jesus was the little guy in the manger who he was coloring with the dark red crayon. He lit up instantly, grinning from ear to ear, and yelled “NO, THAT’S SANTA!” Now that’s just sad.

Speaking of Santa, I kind of recall kids asking the old man in red for much simpler things back in the day… like Hot Wheels or Barbie dolls. These days, it’s all about iPods, iPads, and other costly gadgets. I feel sorry for all the parents out there, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the fallout from all this is a rise in alcohol consumption and adult tantrums.

I know I’m probably going to sound a bit Kardashian-like here, but being Santa is extremely tiring. It’s incredibly strenuous having to run around shopping for gifts, attending parties, and entertaining out-of-town guests, all the while maintaining a jolly attitude. I justify going around smiling, being kind to others, and spreading Christmas cheer as my annual cardio workout and community service.

Believe me when I say that Santa has a rough gig, but baby Jesus has it made. Baby Jesus gets to spend all day drinking and relaxing in a crib while people visit and adore him. Who in their right mind would rather be Santa than Baby Jesus on Christmas?!

Not me. While other people are out playing Santa every year—caroling and spreading the Christmas spirit—I’ll be kicking back in my crib with some eggnog, watching “Die Hard” marathons on TV, and grunting intermittently from the couch to signal the family I’m still alive.

Despite the usual caroling, shopping, and other Santa-inspired nonsense, I actually do look forward to Christmas dinner each year. There’s just something special about it, a certain je ne se quoi, if you will.

These are a few of the things that I think make Christmas dinner so special every year:

  • One of your relatives will always get too inebriated during dinner, resulting in intriguing conversations; fearless actions (i.e. awkward hip gyrations and ass slaps); inappropriate outbursts (i.e. “I’ve got your taters right here swinging, baby!”); and overall bickering when voices that should be inner voices end up on speakerphone.

 “I was just saying that cranberry is good for a urinary tract infection. That’s it. It’s a perfectly acceptable dinner conversation. I mean, we’re eating cranberries for God’s sake!”

 “You brought a Democrat to dinner? Jesus Christ! Have you lost your damn mind?! I need some more scotch!”

  • Someone will bring a dessert they made that looks and/or tastes absolutely disgusting (yes, worse than fruitcake). You should prepare yourself in advance to expect a strange concoction to arrive at the dinner table from someone “trying a new recipe” which ultimately looks like something scooped from a baby’s diaper.
  • Speaking of fruitcake, there’s always at least two in attendance on Christmas: 1) most likely one of your relatives (refer to the first item above) and 2) an actual fruitcake made with those rubbery chunks of artificially-colored fruit that defy the natural world as we know it.

I’m happy to report that I accomplished quite a bit over the holidays this year, but I’m sad to report that my postholiday meltdown so far entails a bad case of the flu. Unfortunately, it’s not how I planned on ringing in the New Year, and not exactly what I had in mind for “out with the old, in with the new,” but oh well.

I wish all of you a healthy and prosperous 2013, and please, let’s all take a moment of silence to give thanks to vodka for getting us through another year! Cheers!

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Filed under Silva Nuggets (Random)

It’s My Birthday, and I’ll Cry if I Want To

Aaah birthday… we meet again.

Hey birthday, after I’m done beating up this copy machine, you’re next!

Birth·day noun (ˈbərth-ˌdā)—definition: an event to commemorate not doing anything particularly noteworthy in the past 12 months since the last birthday, and now being one step closer to death.

 

Or something like that.

In my family, as in many others, birthday tradition dictated that the birthday boy or girl got to have the cake of their choice and make a birthday wish while blowing out a candle. My parents always had an overabundant supply of cake mix and candles on hand for birthdays, including those annoying trick candles that continued to relight themselves after being blown out.

I really hated those stupid candles. Even with my face right next to the cake, forcing my breath to a maximum velocity, I could never trump those things. My family and friends also tried to help me blow them out to no avail. As far as I was concerned, blowing out trick birthday candles could have qualified as an Olympic sport.

We ended up having to throw the candles in a cup of water to keep them from relighting, and people didn’t even want to eat the cake anymore since the frosting was undoubtedly covered in a smorgasbord of spit and other projectiles.

I suppose it could have been worse. I could have gotten an Eggo waffle with a votive candle or a cigarette in it for my birthday instead, accompanied by a disappointing last minute gift such as a can of Campbell’s Soup wrapped in newspaper.

Aaaw, how thoughtful! You shouldn’t have!

 

In retrospect, I’ve been very fortunate and thankful that my family made such a big deal out of birthdays.

The other night, as my birthday evening was winding down, I realized that I had yet to blow out a candle and eat cake. In anticipation of my birthday grand finale and years of tradition, I asked the hubby “Ooo, what kind of cake did you get me?!”

He looked at me with a bewildered, deer in the headlights kind of look and replied: “Yeeah. I kinda forgot the cake this time, but there’s a half a tomato in the fridge.”

I threw my hands up in the air, waved them dramatically, and exclaimed: “Wha- what?! Are you for real?! You’re putting my candle in a week-old Roma tomato?!”

And so the night went cakeless.

Don’t worry. Although he forgot the cake, the hubby did present me with a candle in a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s along with concert tickets to see Lady Antebellum, Thompson Square and Darius Rucker, thereby redeeming himself and saving all of us from having to split a moldy tomato.

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Filed under Chronicles of Marriage

5 Signs You’re a Crazy Cat Person

1- You have a ton of cats and cat toys. Unfortunately, your cats choose to ignore all those wonderful toys, and they play with empty toilet paper rolls and your shoelaces instead.

2- Your best friend gives you a bag of treats as a gift for your cats, and after letting them eat most of the bag, you realize that they’re from Walmart (and made in China) which fuels a sort of Kim-Kardashian-Kanye-West combination meltdown (which means that you attempt to maintain your composure, but in the end, you can’t control yourself from freaking out like a Drama King/Queen and voicing your concerns inappropriately). You grab your cell phone, call your best friend, and exclaim “Oh. My. God. I can’t believe you gave me Chinese cat treats from Walmart! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill my babies!”

3- You get excited… no, more like ecstatic and hysterical… over pet care items such as a special miniature hand brush and dust pan to sweep up fine granules of kitty litter. When you find items like this in the store, you actually jump for joy, raising them in the air victoriously as Rafiki did with Simba in the first Lion King movie.

Image courtesy of arthursclipart.org

4- You talk to your cats. And, I don’t mean the occasional “Here kitty, kitty!” kind of talk. I mean the kind of talking that ends up being a dialogue of sorts between you and your cat.

Crazy Cat Person: How’s my sweet girl? How was your day?

Cat: Meow.

Crazy Cat Person: Oh, I know you missed me, sweet pea! Are you hungry?

Cat: Meow.

Crazy Cat Person: Let’s see what we can do about that. Do you want your favorite catnip treats?

Cat: Meow.

5- Your cats have a first and last name… sometimes even a middle name. And, you’ve been known to use their full names when you’re angry at them, to which they consistently respond with verbal opposition.

Crazy Cat Person: Punky Mewster Miller, get down from that shelf right now!

Cat: Mrrrreeeeoooooow! Mrrrreeeeoooooow!

Crazy Cat Person: I don’t want to hear it! Get down here right now! I mean it!

Cat: Mrrrreeeeoooooow! Mrrrreeeeoooooow!

After this goes on for a while, the crazy cat person ultimately gives up and retrieves the cat from the shelf on his/her own, since the cat simply refuses to cooperate (and there’s no winning an argument with an angry cat).

Image by designer-brain courtesy of deviantart.com

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Filed under Furry Tales

What’s Your Interest in Pinterest?

In a feeble attempt to understand the magical and mysterious world of Pinterest, I joined the site last week, and to-date I have zero followers. Buh-bam.

While virtually twiddling my thumbs over there, I’ve had some time to reflect on the situation, during which a couple of thoughts have occurred to me:

1)      What exactly is the purpose of Pinterest?

2)      Why doesn’t Pinterest give members at least one default friend, so no one feels insignificant? Perhaps someone like Myspace Tom, but he could be Pinterest Jim.

From what I’ve been able to gather in the past week, it appears that people pick photos that they consider pin-worthy from the internet to add to their online pin boards. The end result is a virtual collage of sorts.

The most significant thing I’ve learned from Pinterest so far (which is actually pretty awesome) is that you can soak watermelon in tequila, and then dip each slice in margarita salt for what is seemingly the most mind-blowing fruit experience.

Mmmm. Margarita watermelon.

What was I saying? Oh yeah. After a week of research, I’ve come to the conclusion that to become a dedicated pinner, you really can’t have a demanding career. By process of elimination, the majority of Pinterest users must either be disgruntled employees at Initech, full-time students, housewives, or retired members of AARP.

To my amazement, Pinterest aficionados can spend an entire day pinning photos of knitted doilies, vegan goulash recipes, and other totally random things that I would never think anyone would ever be interested in… like a macramé skirt with a jellyfish on it, for instance. Yet, for some reason, it works, and there are other people out there who get it.

As for me, right now I’d regard myself a Silva pin: a beginner with minimal Pinterest interest and no followers.

What’s your interest in Pinterest, and what type of enthusiast are you?

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Filed under Silva Nuggets (Random)

5 Best Reasons to Have a Blog

  1.  Blogging is the best way to enjoy a little downtime, especially if you’re trying to avoid doing real work and being productive entirely. With a blog, you can simply say:

“I know I have this deadline for work, but I really have to work on my blog right now. It’s been a while since my last post, and I don’t want it to get stale. God, has it only been two days since my last post? I better add some new material just in case!”

  1. Blogging makes you part of a vast network of cool, witty people like yourself who enjoy the same things you do: specifically writing and procrastinating.
  2. Blogging is the best way to boost your confidence and self-esteem. When you blog regularly, you get a consistent stream of followers who like and comment on your posts. You’re practically famous in the blogging community. This is even more reason why you must continue to keep up on your blog: your fans are waiting. And, as your parents probably told you many times during the course of your life: it’s rude to keep people waiting.
  3. Blogging improves your communication skills and vocabulary, thereby keeping your mind healthy and your neurotransmitters active. That’s right. Blogging actually makes you smarter. Take note.
  4. Blogging finally gives you a place where you can use all those random photos you’ve taken with your camera phone of your cat wearing a ridiculous bowtie, your kid with spaghetti up his nose, and other oddities that you find entertaining from your daily life.

Why, thank you kindly. I know that I’m remarkably handsome. And yes, I know that I’m not wearing any pants.
Courtesy of dapperdogties.com

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Filed under Silva Nuggets (Random)