Dreaming of an Artificial Christmas

Q: What are your thoughts on christmas trees?

A: What's with the Christmas questions? Sheesh. Well, my thoughts on Christmas trees are all well and good if you're not the kind of person that puts their Christmas tree up on November 11TH!! My mom's friend puts her tree up so early in the year, her husband is still cutting the grass!!

My mom and dad put the tree up yesterday, and they were both saying how they ALREADY can't wait to get the tree out of the house. But this year is different, dad says, because he bought an artificial tree from Costco. He was so excited, he was telling mom about all the good reasons to have a "fake" tree (as he kept calling it): no mess, no water, no chopping, no freezing when picking it out, no hassle with strapping it to the van, etc. The tree even came pre-lit! It's his personal Christmas miracle. But do you think mom would give him the satisfaction and let Christmas go by without a traditional tree fight?

It's always been a riot watching mom and dad put up the tree in the past. Dad hauls the tree in, places it in his gazillion dollar tree stand that he thought would last forever but is already missing most of its parts, and mom stands back and tells him which screw to tighten so the tree straightens the right way while dad's upside down trying to twist the bent screws and mom's yelling at the boys who are singing Alvin and the Chipmunk Christmas songs WAY too loudly while they are supposed to be getting the ornaments ready for the tree and dad's trying with all his might not to crank at mom who is much too fussy about tree straightness but her back feels just fine all the while.

Anyway, by the time they get the tree standing still, my brothers are already off to college and MY hair is going gray. Then mom, like a sweet kindergarten teacher, tells all the kids to get all the ornaments on the tree. Now if you know my mom at all, you know that she likes order. So why then, lord of Christmas trees, does she ask 3 numbskull boys to hang breakable Christmas ornaments on a crooked tree? Holy Christmas - she's nuts. Guess what happens? My youngest brother hangs half of them at his level (he's a bit short) before mom finally notices, while the other 2 boys are still singing like ridiculous chipmunks who can't place an ornament in the right place if you pay them $1,000,000 dollars to save their useless lives. You should see them right about now...they're laughing so hard they're almost peeing their pants, and Dad's STILL laying on the floor trying to get the tree straight while mom's working herself into a lather of anger because her vision of stockings being hung by the chimney with care have totally been wrecked by a husband that can't do the 1 job that she asked him to and she has 3 singing baboons that are too stunned to pick up on her emotional instability!!!

Right about now I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones that that old guy sings about in that old slow Christmas song that my uncle Dean always plays to death. I bet that old guy never had a fake tree in his fake life.

By the way, if you ever want to know what it's like to see tension so thick you can't even cut it, come to my house when dad's trying to convince mom that the fake tree he bought is the answer to their Christmas depression forever - but mom's biting her lip and tongue as she tries to spread the 7,034 brand new branches apart because they've been packed tightly for shipping. Run for your artificial life dad.

I have no idea why someone thought that putting a tree (that belongs outside) in your living room and throwing random stuff on it would make memories and wonderful pictures for years to come.

I'm thinking of a word that rhymes with shmidiot.

Punta Cana Santa

Q: What's your opinion of the story of Saint Nicholas?

A: I had to ask dad who Saint Nicholas is. He said you must be really old because nobody calls SANTA CLAUS that anymore. Now first of all, by calling it a story, are you implying that Santa's existential reality hangs in the balance? If so, you might disclose way too much here. Tread carefully my great aunt. But if you're just wondering what I think about how Santa Claus came to be, I don't really care actually. As long as the chubby, bearded, present-giver lands a Barbie under my tree, he's all good. I don't have anything bad to say about him - he's a nice enough guy I guess. But he needs to lay off the cookies.

But dad on the other hand is really skeptical about men that ride around at the speed of light delivering presents to every kid on the planet.

He wonders how Santa changes clothes so fast when he's delivering toys to kids that live in the African deserts, for example. Don't the reindeer sweat bullets? That's animal cruelty.

Anyway, Dad says he'd like to know who pays Santa and why he works all year around making toys that say "made in not the north pole" and how he's been an old man since everyone's grandfather was a baby. Hmmm...maybe dad has a point. BUT...dad also thinks that I'm a princess from a far off land. So there you have it.

Anyway, did you know that Saint Nicholas is also called Nikolaos of Myra? He was a saint and Greek Bishop of Myra - and died in 373. Did you know him personally? That's a long time ago.

I'd like to meet the Mexican Santa someday - that would be funny I bet.

Order in the Court

Q: Is there order in the universe?

A: Well there is in mom's universe. And since our universe revolves around her, I would have to say yes. My mother is the epitome of order. In fact, I think I can speak for everyone that knows her and say that she's a tad organized. Let me exemplify: She lays in bed at night and can actually HEAR something out of place I think. Be it the basement, the yard, somebody else's yard, or a mis-placed pebble on planet Neptune. I bet we could quiz her as she stands in the middle of the Mojave Desert with tarantulas and scorpions threatening her very life and she could still ryhme off where my brother's 457th piece of Lego is that he lost in 2004.

To answer your question, there's order in 1 universe at least. Don't be surprised if the organizer comes knocking on your planet next.

Here's a funny commercial about a girl that would definitely succumb to tarantulas and scorpions. But I have no idea why the car is at the end...

Lingual Nerve Injury

Q: Do you like snow?

A: Why, I am so glad you asked. And I am thrilled to report that YES I LOVE snow; so much in fact, that I'd sit down any single day of the year and get a root canal just the same. Seeing the snow gives me the exact same pleasure. And when we have a blizzard and stuff - it's equal to the dentist hitting a major nerve and then I hit the ceiling in pain, dragging him around the room, but when I finally settle back in the dentist chair it's like heaven on earth. There's nothing better than Lingual Nerve Injury at the dentist office.

So yes, snow is for SURE totally awesome.

Here's a funny video about dentists:

Coats Are For Girls I Guess

Q: Why do boys not wear a jacket in the winter time?

A: I DON'T KNOW. And neither do my parents. And neither does anyone. If you do, by all means fill me in on your pearl of wisdom - I think you'd create world peace or something by letting the whole world know why boys don't wear jackets. It's not for lacking discipline. I think my dad would be rich if someone gave him $1,000 every time he said, "Get back in the house for the love of whoever in this strange universe and put your coat on. What are you thinking? WHAT - ARE - YOU - THINKING???" I can feel dad's pain because he usually throws his hands in the air because he's always in a rush. I know what that's like. Ever try to get to gymnastics when your brother's keep having to back into the house to get their jackets???

It's a simple request right? It shouldn't be that hard. Put your coat on. How do they even remember to go out the front door? Or get up in the morning? They certainly know how to get to the fridge on their own, or ask "What's for supper?" I swear if their heads weren't sewed on they'd be like, "Hey where's my head? I just noticed it missing and it's the second part of double lunch. I'm calling mom and dad - they'll bring my head to school when they bring my jacket."

What's even more weird is that they complain about the house being too cold in the winter time - even when they wear sweaters - but they'll run outside when it's minus 25 Celsius and act like they're in Punta Cana.To dad's proverbial question they answer, "WHAT??? It's not cold. I can hardly see my breath. Sheesh - what's the big deal? It's like sunny and everything." Great...late for gymnastics again.

If someone knows why boys are like that, tell Ellen D - she can get the word out.

Anywaaaaaay...whatever. This video basically reminds me of what the boys look like when they're telling dad why they forgot their coats:

Periodic Patticake

Q: What is the periodic table?

A: It's either a table that happens by every now and then, or something I use to render question-askers incapable of attending to or pursuing their usual avocations because they've been bonked on the head with it.

But if you're sincere, I just happen to know what it is because my brother Caleb is studying it right now. He says it's nothing but a bunch of useless letters and numbers together in a uniform arrangement such that they look like a table.

I heard him say that he actually wonders why teachers created such a mystifying puzzlement. It's an enigma, really. Like what's with the synthetic elements from 133 to 118? Anyway, I don't expect you to answer that. I bet you even looked up the word enigma in the dictionary by now, right?

If you really want to know what it is, click here and you'll find out.

And if you are still as bored as I am right now, watch these funny cats:

Race Horses and Linguine, or Linguistics, or WHATEVER

Q: How do you feel about tailgating?

A: Is tailgating one word? I wonder if you put a hyphen between tail and gating? If not, there should be one, because otherwise it could very well read like tailg ating or ta ilga ting. See how ridiculous they sound? There's a HUGE difference between how I feel about all 3. Take tailg ating for instance...you pretty much have to put an awkward pause in there that's just not normal. Try it, say it. See? It's awkward - like you're trying to impress a Chinese person with an impossible Mandarin sound that North Americans cannot make. It can also sound like you're trying to say tailgating but you're swallowing chocolate pudding in the middle of it. Anything ending in ilg is just plain insane anyway. Now take ta ilga ting for instance...that's a down-right train wreck in the English language. W ho i nthe irri ght mi nd ta lksl iket hat? There aren't too many things that annoy me, but trying to read or say ta ilga ting makes me want to punch a kitten or something.

Moving on to the word tailgating. I feel like apologizing to the kitten, but I'm still annoyed. Who sat down and decided to put tail and gating together without a hyphen? I'd love to hear what Billy Hickox has to say about this. He's a linguist of sorts. But what the heck does that mean in its own right? Anyway, picture the guy that formed the two words together. When I picture him, he's been forming words all day and has go to the bathroom the same way that race horses do after a long race; now pretend he's the horse and he's nearly losing his bladder when someone hands him a piece of paper and says, "what would you do with these two words?" I'm almost positive he'd just stick 'em together. Don't you think? That's the only logical explanation for it.

But I think you meant how do I feel about the practice of driving on a road too close to the vehicle in front, at a distance which does not guarantee that stopping to avoid collision is possible. It's like when mom and dad get in an argument. Mom's just booting it down the highway, making valid points and valid arguments, totally in control of things. But dad's like WAY behind her and can't even move the car fast enough, but all of a sudden, mom slows down only to take a breath just at the point when dad's getting frustrated because he's losing ground but gives it one last go and he gets RIGHT up on mom, who makes the same hand gesture that people do when someone's tailgating them. I'm not sure what it means, but dad usually gets the point. So he slows down even more so mom can speed away, winning the race.

At any rate, I don't like tailgaters. And I really HATE ta ilga ting.

Here's a video about aggressive drivers:

And here's a funny one about flashlight batteries: