It's the old small talk!
Just a quick note to let you know that Neil has posted the Fourth Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert!
(I’m slightly embarrassed that my contribution doesn’t contain any sort of photo montage. Perhaps I’ll someday learn how to edit audio and video. Perhaps I’ll also learn how to change the bass and treble on my car stereo. And I’ll perfect my liquid eyeliner technique. A girl can dream.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
It has been entirely too long since I’ve checked in.
Our modem exploded, you see, and because AT&T doesn’t really give us many options, we had to order The Same Exact Modem, and it won’t arrive until later this week.
As a result of this madness, our internet connection is embarrassingly slow. Uploads time out before they can, well, upload. I’ve actually had to take a flash drive (jump drive? flash dance?) and my pocket PC to the Dairy Queen parking lot to upload videos (Christmahanukwanzaakah is upon us—more on that Thursday) by stealing an eggnog-shake flavored batch of free wifi.
Worst of all, for the first time in what seems like decades, I have stories to share! Stories about snowmen and violence! Stories about how I’m actually working out again! Explanations of the momspotting hashtag you keep seeing on Twitter! I’ve got chicken and dumplings in my crock pot right now!
Oh, Internet friends. I wish my house was super big and omnipotent and that you could just step out of your place and into mine and make yourself comfortable as I prepare pizza or macaroni or something and we can actually create a dialogue instead of doing this thing we do where I punch words out with my fingers and you either do the same, or else you don’t. Jeff always tells the girls that slow and steady wins the race. It will take nearly three minutes for this very paragraph to save. Fly like an eagle, Steve Miller.
Until my modem arrives, please know that my kids are trying to build the perfect tightrope, I’m pouring cookie ingredients into decorative jars, and Jeff is compiling his Best of 2009 CD as well as his Best of the Decade CD. I really should give some of his compilations to you. They’re very good.
I’m listening to this song quite a bit these days:
Don’t forget: I have two giveaways going on right now.
One has something to do with Kisses and a $100 Visa gift card.
The other? A fancy pants Viliv S5.
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Last night I met up with a good friend for dinner. (Some of you know her as Mitzi.)
I’m not sure how it happened, but as I walked out to my car after dinner (sushi at The Drunken Fish), Christmas spirit was oozing out of me.
This morning Harper and I put up the tree, and I’m planning on spending the afternoon downstairs shuffling through our Big Tub o’ Christmas.
Abrupt change of subject! I’m currently hosting the biggest Fluid Pudding Giveaway Ever. It’s a pocket PC, people!
(And don’t forget the Hershey’s $100 Visa gift card giveaway!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Last year I was typing away on a Fluid Pudding post, and when I went to save it, I received an error message. I hit the back button, cut and pasted my entire entry into my e-mail, and then entered it again paragraph by paragraph at the website. (I’m boring you! Please stick with me!) After nearly an hour of fiddling, I discovered that the word that bummed WordPress out was Nebraska. When I saved that entire entry WITHOUT the word Nebraska, it saved with no problem. When I re-entered Nebraska, all hell broke loose.
(When I was a freshman in college, Marching Mizzou traveled to Nebraska for a game. I had been sold as a slave for that weekend (which sounds so horribly inappropriate now, but back then it was just a part of Homecoming Spirit Week), which means I had to carry a woman named Gennifer’s luggage up to her hotel room. My ankle blew out when I stepped into a pot hole in the parking lot, and was sprained so badly that I couldn’t march at the Holiday Parade a few weeks later. I was in an air cast for six weeks, which allowed me to stir up quite a bit of pity during my freshman piano jury. I now feel like I’m sitting on my couch reminiscing with a group of people who really couldn’t care less. Back to the story, which should certainly get better sometime soon, don’t you think?)
I wrote a product review late last week, and that whole stinkin’ Nebraska thing happened again! (The error thing. Not the ankle thing.) The review contains two links. And those two links are non-negotiable. They HAVE to appear in the review. HOWEVER, when I added either of the links, WordPress was giving me the error message again. I did the paragraph by paragraph thing. No luck. I tried to back door the links, which is a fancy way of saying “I typed them in instead of cutting and pasting them.” (I’m a technological wizard, you know.) No luck. I was at the end of my rope last night when Jeff said, “Why don’t you put the links in FIRST?” The entry worked with nothing but the links. (Maybe JEFF is the wizard.)
I then pasted the review in and removed each sentence one by one until I found the culprit.
Get this. The following sentence (which appeared in parentheses on the review) was not allowed by WordPress to appear on a page with the links:
I come with a pretty hefty supply of Christmas tunes.
Because I have lots of Christmas music and I don’t mind talking about it, I’ve been blackballed by WordPress. And I would approach WordPress with this issue to ask what’s going on, but I lack the energy and the vocabulary. I’m bored, too!
Because you tend to stick with me, here is a video of my kids singing Rudolph during the return trip from Indianapolis to St. Louis.
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Just a few quick things:
As you read this, we’re actually on the way to Indianapolis! We all have fresh haircuts, and my mom has given me one of those huge plastic cups from Starbucks. In other words, as these very words travel from your eyes to your brain, I’m most likely sitting in the passenger seat nursing a very large shaken iced tea lemonade and listening to The Squeakquel. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
I need to send a very special shout out to someone with the initials AMR. You shocked the heck out of me when I picked up my mail yesterday, and I’m so very grateful. (I don’t have your e-mail address, or I would have done this privately.) I skied for over an hour last night! And you’re the only person out there who has any idea what I’m talking about!
My family baked cookies a few weeks back, and now I’m giving away a $100 Visa gift card as well as a bag of Hershey’s Candy Cane Kisses! (The gift card winner is random. The Kisses? I’m totally choosing who gets them.)
Watch out Indianapolis. Here come The Puddings! (While we’re gone, please enjoy our favorite online advent calendar!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Let’s tie up all loose ends here, shall we?
The Cat’s Ear: As of today, Sidney’s ear has completely healed around the hole. She now looks like a cat who has a battle scar, and has already forgotten who scarred her. She actually jumped up onto the couch this afternoon and curled up right next to Harper. The Puddings would like to buy the world a Coke. (By the way, I’m still holding a grudge against a girl named Kelly who embarrassed me during one of my sister’s slumber parties. I was in the fourth grade at the time, meaning this particular grudge is thirty years old. Two days after being cut with a hole puncher, Sidney has forgiven Harper. Obviously, Sidney and I need to grab some peyote and sweat lodge it out or something.)
NaBloPoMo: This is the final entry. So, there’s that. Thirty days of not very much. However, Mrs. Flinger has stirred me.
You Didn’t Even Know About This: I’ve been feeling itchy to grab the family and head out of town for a weekend. SO, this weekend we’re going to take the kids to Indianapolis to visit the Children’s Museum, the zoo, and whatever else sparks us. (I’m looking at you, Mass Ave Knit Shop.) The kids have no idea. This will be good.
My Hair: I just got back from the haircut place. I let her shave up the back and sides of my head and let the top go floppy. We’ll see how long it lasts.
I’m holding paper behind my head so you can sort of see what I mean by Go Floppy. Otherwise, the flop would be lost in our refrigerator magnet collection.
Weird. Do you see that red spot on my neck? What IS that?
Today is Mark Twain’s birthday! To my knowlege, he never said anything quotable about Pudding, but he did have this to say about the Pterodactyl:
“The less said about the pterodactyl the better.”
This afternoon I went to the Rock-n-Roll Craft Show with Chris and Kym.
After the show, we went to Pi.
After Pi, we went to Knitty Couture.
Perfect day.
And now I’m just trying to figure out if I should have my hair all cut off again, or if I should continue to let it grow.
(I’m not purposefully letting it grow—it’s just that I haven’t had a haircut in over two months, so growing has happened.)
((My hair normally looks something like this. Sadly, right now it looks like I’m wearing a very awkward helmet, and I’m actually having to use a blow dryer, which makes me feel a bit too bothered. PLUS, we’re going out of town next weekend, and I really don’t feel like dealing with electronic hair equipment. Also, I really love Alice’s hair.))
I would create a Grow or No Grow poll, but I lack the energy. Oh, man! Tomorrow is the final day of NaBloPoMo! Is there anything you needed from me before I go? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
This is an actual photograph taken a few moments ago.
As you can see, Sidney is fine—despite the half moon hole in her left ear.
(What you can’t see is the pleading look in her eye as she begs for more turkey. I’ll spare you that wrench of the heart.)
((Another thing you can’t see is Harper. She’s back in her room thanking God for making us a No Spank family.))
All is well, although I’m currently fighting the urge to write a short story about Siddeartha—the half-moon-in-her-ear Brahmin cat who sets out on an ascetic journey to seek enlightenment. The only thing preventing this event is the tiny wise voice in my head that’s saying, “Dude. Really?!” ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
I don’t believe I will even try today.
It seems that my four year old has taken a hole puncher to my cat’s ear, and I’m beyond angry.
You have never seen me like this.
I’ll be back tomorrow. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>
Last night, nine of us journeyed out to a local light display, where we boarded a train and marveled at millions of lights.
PLEASE NOTE: This light display is in St. Louis, Missouri. Although it may share a name with a truly fantastic display across the ocean, I can firmly say that the two events are not related. (I just spent thirty minutes looking at the photos of the other display, and suddenly I want to board a plane and go. Absolutely lovely.)
ONE MORE NOTE: This entry is not intended to disrespect the local display. We loved it, and were merely “in a mood” while riding the train. Our kids are still talking about how much fun they had. We will most definitely be returning.
Most of our journey looked a lot like this:
And this:
And that’s sort of what you expect when you go on a “millions of lights” adventure, right?
However, we also saw a little bit of this:
My 12-year-old Nephew (M12YON): For some reason, that makes me feel a little uncomfortable.
Me: Is it because he looks like he’s been poked in the privates by a big toasted marshmallow skewer?
M12YON: Is this journey Rated R?
We continued to ride.
My Sister: Whoa! Hey there!
Jeff: Someone’s hanging low!
That’s all it took for the seven of us (the girls retained their delightful innocence) to see past the magic (and tune in to our inner Porky’s).
We were now taking a ride on the Lickerish Express.
(Please know that all inappropriatisms (and that is NOT a real word) were kept under our breath. The Puddings are very considerate of others when they spew dirt.)
M12YON: What is that down by his leg?
Me: You know how candy canes roll. As soon as the lights go out, they get all junkie.
M12YON: I don’t like the look on his face.
Meredith: His arm is going the wrong way! Wheeee!
Regardless of (and perhaps because of) the Candy Porn, The Puddings are now fully dipped in the Christmas Spirit.
We’re in. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>