Boxing Day Bloggers

Sorry Megan, it was hard to see in that dark room and Dad e accidently cut me and you out of the picture. There's already a picture posted of me/Dad e (and Mr. TenS) so it would have been nice to have you in the photo... especially since we already know what Chris looks like from his many self-portraits on his blog. Also, sorry to Chaylene and Jim, I think they either left before I thought to get a group picture, or they got cropped out too!

Now if we could only find out who that random guy is that wouldn't talk to me or my sister...

Roger, Roger, we have clearance Clarence, over Ober!

Me and my sister are en route to Chicago - see you soon!

Simian Secret Santa

It's a Christmas Miracle!

Dr. Monkey and Dr. Zaius have put aside their political incorrectness long enough to engage in Simian Secret Santa assignments.

My Secret Santa has brought a gift to someone. Although it might be somewhat obvious - who else would appreciate this can of deviled ham, other than the DevilHam himself?! But what's not obvious is that it's a magic can of deviled ham, guaranteed to get rid of the Devil himself by November, 2008.

Oh, and Santa also brought a box of Kleenex to help DevilHam get over his cold, it's quite a nasty one.

Merry WhateverTheHellYouCelebrate DevilHam - to you, your wife, and the lil' guy!

I've Been a Very Good Ho This Year

So Santa came early!

(and often)


I hope there's some Santa-magic in those skates.

From Hungry to Sappy

I'm always crabby from low blood sugar on Wednesday afternoons after my hockey lesson. By the time I get home from the rink and shower, it's 4pm and my lunchtime meal has all but worn off, and the post-exercise tape worm rears its ugly head. Stupidly, I try and wait for dinner time because if I eat then, I won't be hungry for dinner. And if I eat then and don't eat dinner, I'll be hungry again a few hours after dinner. I tell myself to eat just a little something, or that I should buy protein shakes to have on hand, but I never do. I get distracted with my email when I get back to the home office and usually don't realize that I haven't eaten until I've fallen way too far into the cranky zone. I can't concentrate, I can't make decisions. I don't feel like making something to eat, which ironically, would solve everything.

This past Wednesday was particularly bad because I ran errands after my lesson. Standing in the line at the post office during the Holidays is enough to put even the perkiest of Elves into a foul mood. Add to that, it was a mere 12 degrees out, windy, and snowing enough to make people drive unbelievable slow. It was like somebody invented a giant game of patience and I was the test case. I was failing miserably at it too until I got home and walked up the sidewalk.

SV put a live cut Christmas tree outside (in the Tobiko-safe zone) in front of the living room window so we can see it from the kitchen, dining room, and living room. I decorated it with lights and a star on top. We also put a wreath on the garage.

As I came walking up the sidewalk with the stench of packing tape on my hands, desperately hungry, and the bitter wind stinging my nose, I noticed the tree looked especially pretty with a new dusting of snow. I haven't lived in a house since I was in high school and having a Christmas tree was definitely one of the things I'd been missing, along with having a yard, a garage, neighbors you talk to, etc. It felt like I was coming home. Coming home to something... to someone... my mood instantly warmed and I stared at the tree for a few secs, reminiscing.

I remembered one year ago, SV put a key to his house in my stocking as a way of asking me to move in with him. I knew he was going to remodel soon though, so it seemed like it was such a big undertaking, and I couldn't picture how it was all going to work out. Now, a year later, I was coming home to this newly remodeled house, with all my stuff in it. I walked inside and there were wrapped presents in the corner, the smell of chicken oozing from the kitchen with my boyfriend at the helm, and a little kitty running up to greet me.

As Kirby said, call it the mushiness of the season, but it was a pretty damn cool feeling.

The Pan of GKL

The woes of my new hockey season continues.

We have yet to win a game in our division. I think we are 0-6 or something ridiculously infuriating like that. WTF?! This past Saturday, I centered the second line and after the game, I felt like I should have done so much more on the ice. Center is a new position for me though as I previously played wing on the first line. That was, of course, the year we went 21-1 and points came easy. This year, not so much. I only have one goal and a couple of assists so far. It's really eating at me.

I like learning the new position and I like playing with different people and all, but let's face it - this Ho would like to score more often. On Saturday, I got a great centering pass from my winger as I was crashing the next, fighting off two Defenseman. I got my stick on it but the shot went wide. At another opportunity, I wristed probably my hardest shot of the season at an open corner of the net, and it hit the post. The post! I just stopped and looked at that damn post for a second and said, "You have GOT to be kidding me."

We lost that game 0-4, after driving in a snowstorm to get to Ft. Collins and were short-handed due to the weather. I was so wound up afterwards, I couldn't sleep that night - replaying each missed pass or faceoff in my head over and over.

Yeah I know, with the complicated troubles of today's world, I should miss sleep over things like the bumbling idiot performance by our current President, or use my time better to write about the importance of fuel cells, or raise money to help the homeless, or write letters to the troops in Iraq. In fact, many of you are probably saying, "When is that chick going to grow up?"

Good question.

But for now, I need to put the biscuit in the basket.

Being a Badass Runs in the Family

This is my cousin, the Navy pilot on the left with her fourth-ever, all-women Prowler crew.

This is the first Prowler flight where an all-women crew was in the lead, and the other crews (men) followed. She's following in the footsteps of our Grandfather, who flew attack planes in WWII.

Wave at her!

I'm Busy Being Naughty

Dear Bloggers,

I apologize for my infrequent use of the blogosphere. To make up for it, here's a bunch of pictures of my cat, with stupid captions that are supposed to look like the cat wrote them:

I help rapp prezintz.

I no takey bath.

My Sphinx of Giza impression is goot?

I being naughty 2 like momma.

'Tis The Holiday Season

Everyone should wear red on top, don't you think?

Okay, How Many Caught It?

In the opening scene of this week's Boston Legal, Denny Crane opened his flip phone to call his buddy Alan Shore, and it made the ol' communicator sound.

Story Virus, Part V

I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

"That's strange," I said out loud to no one in particular. My fingers slowly reached towards the jar again. My body experienced a wave of apprehension as weighted blanket covering me as I did so. The jar was completely frozen. I picked it up and stared at it, my fingers stung with little knives of chill. "What the..." again I spoke aloud. Then I realized what had happened with a shock. Suddenly the jar flew from my hand. It shattered creating a collage-like mixture of frozen applesauce and glass shards on my kitchen floor, the lid lazily rolling to a stop across the room.(FranIam)

She flicked the lid with her massive big toe. "So, I guess I'll be having another Camel for breakfast and you'll be having a breakfast date with the Electrolux." She lit her Camel cigarette as she turned to open the closet door where we kept the vacuum. "In case you're wondering how the applesauce got frozen, I seem to recall you insisting that I stick it in the freezer before we went to bed last night." She pushed the Electrolux at me and it squooshed through the rapidly unfreezing applesauce and the glass shards. "This kind of crap happens all the time when we go drinking with the Brazilians." (Dr. Monkey)

Suddenly, the front door erupted in an explosion of wood splinters. “Damn! They’ve found me!” I thought as I dove out the kitchen window. My experiments with frozen applesauce, Camel cigarettes and Electrolux vacuum cleaners were supposed to be a secret, but, apparently, they weren’t as secret as I had thought. What would happen if the formula fell in to the wrong hands? All my work, for naught! Who had leaked the information? Was it her? Or possibly one of the Brazilians? “Now the damned Department of Homeland Security will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve!” was the last thing that went through my mind before I was surrounded. (Ed)

As I was handcuffed like some common criminal and put into the backseat of the Fed car, I looked back to my flat to see if she was okay, but I didn't see her. The only thing I saw was all my years of work that now lay in the hand of some wimpy, nerdy scientist that could barely lift the Electrolux into his van. Then she appeared. My heart lifted. But wait... is she laughing? Why isn't she wearing handcuffs too, I wondered. My mind raced, was I double crossed? And what kind of Fed car has a Portuguese owner's manual peaking out from underneath the driver's seat?! Then the car sped off. (Kristi)

Who wants to continue?