Fluid Pudding : Page 116 of 121 : It's the old small talk!

These are my final complaints of the year. Probably. (Maybe.)

1. I don’t mind Christmas shopping. However, when everyone in the family suddenly pretends to have never met my kids and I end up having to do Everyone’s Christmas Shopping, well, I get tired. And then I lose my bubbling Christmas spirit. And suddenly, when Amy Grant’s Christmas CD comes on, I find myself thinking, “Suck it, Amy. I’m trying to make 42 To Do lists over here.” This happens Every Single Year, and I hate it because I Am Known For My Holiday Spirit. (Not really. But I *could* be if I didn’t have all of these damned lists to make for everyone!)

2. If I had time to construct a pie chart to show you The Things I Hate, screenings and assessments would fill roughly 63% of that chart. Two weeks ago, Jeff and I participated in a social and emotional screening to try to get a grip on Harper’s tantrums. The outcome? “She scored a 65, and the Ideal Child scores below a 59.”

Me: Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. How do we move forward?

Screener: Oh. Well, I’ll have to get back with you sometime on that, won’t I? See you in January!

(65 Crickets are chirping. Only 59 are supposed to be chirping.)

I suppose I now need to make Harper a shirt that says 65 and just assume that Everyone Will Get It. Except I don’t get it. So, on to the next Thing, yet back to where we started and on and on. (Are you smelling something that sort of stinks like an unclever blend of patchouli and horseradish? That’s my discouragement with assessments and screenings!)

3. I’m having a hard time finding parents who are able to attend the kindergarten holiday party next week. (I know. Life is good when I have time to complain about these ridiculous things, right? I know!) And I’m fine with that because I know that everyone is busy and everyone works and so on. However, I hate that I take every single No (not to mention every unreturned phone call) personally. Because that’s silly. People aren’t saying No because I’m sort of socially inept, are they? No. (Are they?) But, anyway. I just need to find someone who is willing to pour rice into 16 tube socks and then tie them off with yarn. Tube Sock Snowman! Anybody?! I promise not to make awkward eye contact with you! Actually, no promises. Suck it, Amy.

Wait. Let’s end this with something good. Kara recently listed her Christmas stockings at Etsy, and I love them. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m simply mollycoddled!

Internet Friends, I am lucky.

In the past year, because of Fluid Pudding Dot Com:

I was able to share 60 boxes of M&Ms with you.
I was able to do that whole Bedroom Makeover thing.
I funded a trip to BlogHer in San Francisco by selling handknit socks and sock ornaments. (AND, Ornament Friends? I’m 1.5 ornaments away from sending out packages! I’ll be in touch with you sometime in the next week!)

And that’s just the Stuff part of it. To risk sounding all drippy and kissy-faced, I really can’t put into words just how amazing FPdotCom has been in regard to Community and Friendships and Goodwill and Whatnot. I know I’ve been guilty of being all, “Blah blah blah I QUIT! Here’s a Jeff Buckley video for you to prove just how much of a quitter I really am!!!” in the past. Right now? I’m at a Fluid Pudding Happy level of 9.6! (And you know who you are, Person Who Recently Brought Me Down By Four-Tenths of a Point!)

Anyway. A few weeks back I asked you guys to visit Secret Agent Josephine and enter my name in her monthly banner drawing because I’m nothing but a disaster at banners and I’ve always admired her work. (Yep. Check out those coffee cards. Is it wrong to be so in love with a set of cards?! Also, I have four words for you: Pockets the Lumpy Cat. Please adopt Pockets and then come right back here and tell me about the nice home you’re going to give him. Because I love that stinkin’ cat.) And you visited her. And she visited me. And now? Well, look at my banner. (Wait a second. Just looking at that banner shot me right back up to a 10! 10.4, even! Take THAT, PWRBMDBF-ToaP!)

And that’s not all. After I wrote that post, I was contacted by an old college friend who took time out of her day to design some sample banners for me! And look at how cute they are.

So fun. So cute! It’s a cross-eyed cat! (AND, if you’re interested in contacting Linda for a possible banner and her schedule has room for some freelance work, shoot an e-mail my way (angela at fluidpudding dot com), and I’ll forward your request on to her!)

Anyway. The phrase Embarrassment of Riches comes to mind a lot these days. And for that? I thank you. And you. (But not YOU, PWRBMDBF-ToaP. I’m a huge grudge holder, you know.)

Pockets the Lumpy Cat! Go get him! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I totally wanted to go out with a bang. Take that as you will.

So, here we are.

November 30th. 9:30 at night. I planned on making another video for you. It was going to maybe feature a bit of French horn. Perhaps piano. Most likely a bit of spoken word. (As opposed to the unspoken word that you’re mucking through right now.) I had such good intentions.

Anyway, as you know, I spent today going to church (I was a mess in church today, by the way. I chewed at all of the wrong times, and I actually watched a fly buzzing around on his back until he eventually died and for some reason, that struck me as being the funniest thing I’ve seen in my life so I ended up doing that ridiculous thing where my face is all contorted and I’m silently laughing so hard that my eyes are filled with tears, and I simply Could Not Stop, so onward with the facial gymnastics and tears for nearly two minutes which is a really long time when the pastor is trying to tell us who is sick and who is well and yikes. What a disaster I was.) and buying cookies and choosing a calendar and meeting a friend and driving to book club and socializing with friends and strangers and eating a chicken buffalito without the chicken and hunkering down for Twilight. And now I’m home. And I need to finish my current book so I can start reading our book club book. And I need to knit two more sock ornaments and plan Meredith’s holiday party and get to work on the yarn store’s holiday party and do a bit of holiday shopping and knitting and kick off the new tradition of cookie baking with the girls and something about salsa dancing and I tried my first pomegranate raspberry beer last night and did I mention that I bought my 2009 calendar/planner today? Last year I was all about the suicidal rabbits. This year, sadly, I went bland. I honestly could not find anything better, which makes me want to make my own stinkin’ calendar, but we all know that I won’t do it.

All of this (and much more than you needed or wanted) to say, thanks for sticking with me during NaBloPoMo. I know I was not at my best this month. But with the imminent arrival of Santa and Leonardo DiCaprio coupled with the possibility of potato chips, it looks like December is going to be good. There will be a French horn. Possibly some piano.

As always, I wish you well. Even you, believe it or not. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I honestly thought today was December 1.

I’m just going to say this: Today has been fairly strange and exhausting. (Strange days tend to be exhausting, don’t you think?)

I’m currently sitting here in red flannel pajamas just hoping that the next few hours will happily fly by (for everyone) so that I can wake up and welcome Sunday, which will include presenting a brand new baby with this, grabbing a tray of cookies because today was too strange for baking, meeting an old friend for the drive to a new book club, and then catching up over dinner and a twilight viewing of Twilight. For me, it really doesn’t get much better. Wait. Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate and Andrew Bird kissing my neck. There. Perfect day. (Did I say Andrew Bird? I meant Jeff, obviously.)

One more quick thing.

I can’t stop watching this episode of Nova.

Actually, wait. Here’s the first part.

(If you’re interested, the episode appears in six parts on YouTube.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I always leave out the tiny details.

This afternoon I had lunch with a friend from college who is in town from Los Angeles. Because he hadn’t been to our house in several years, I had to give directions over the phone.

Me: After making a left on This and That, you’ll see our house right where This and That meets Such and Such. So, you’ll be on This and That, but our street address is Such and Such. Um, we’re the third house on the left on This and That, but again: We actually live on Such and Such.

Doug: I’ll call you if I have any trouble.

What I neglected to mention? We are the only house on Such and Such (or This and That, for that matter) with a skyscraping penguin in the front yard. In other words, I could have saved something like 51 words by simply saying, “We’re the house with the monstrous inflatable.”

Welcome back, John Green. ‘Tis your season.

‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I never got to taste him, either.

This is the pumpkin cake my sister contributed to Thanksgiving dinner. Sadly, due to an oncoming tantrum, we had to leave the celebration before dessert was served. However, I will always have fond memories of this amazing cake. Even if I didn’t get to taste it. (The cake has a lot in common with George Clooney.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

My sleeves are rolled up, and I’m ready to help!

Okay. I know you’re all knee-deep in turkey guts and cranberry goo.

I also know that you might not be too keen on pumpkin pie.

SO, once again, I would like to share my father’s famous caramel pie recipe!

(Mandajuice made it last year with chocolate chips, and she loved it. If that doesn’t kick you right over the edge, I’m not sure what will. Actually, I DO know what will. A photo of her pie!)

Father Pudding’s Famous Caramel Pie
1 can Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk (no substitutes, must be Eagle Brand)
1 prepared graham cracker pie crust
2-3 bananas (not overly ripe)
Cool Whip (small size)
5-6 maraschino cherries
handful of pecan pieces
Large size Hershey Chocolate bar

Preparation (Allow 4 hours on the night before you need the pie. In other words, time is running out.)
The evening before you need the pie, remove the wrapper from the Eagle Brand milk and put the can in a pot of SLOWLY boiling water. (The can should not be opened or punctured in any way.) Be sure to keep the can covered with water and SLOWLY boil it for 4 hours. After 4 hours, remove the can and let it cool overnight to room temperature.

Assembly (Allow 10-15 minutes.)
Place ¼ inch thick slices of bananas over the bottom of the pie shell, covering the entire bottom with one layer (do not layer up the sides of the shell). Open the can of Eagle milk. You’ll find it has turned a nice caramel color and has thickened to the point where you’ll have to use a spoon to get it out of the can. Cover the bananas with the caramelized milk (spread the entire can evenly). Cover the caramel with Cool Whip (be generous and use lots of Cool Whip). Cut the Maraschino cherries into pieces and sprinkle the pieces around the Cool Whip. Sprinkle the pecan pieces around the Cool Whip. Finally, using a vegetable peeler, shave strips off the edge of the Hershey bar and sprinkle the shavings around the Cool Whip. Refrigerate until serving time.

(Disclaimer, because I’m careful like that: All data and information provided on this site is for informational purposes only. Fluidpudding.com makes no representations as to accuracy, completeness, currentness, suitability, or validity of any information on this site and will not be liable for any errors, omissions, or delays in this information or any losses, injuries, or damages arising from its display or use. All information is provided on an as is basis.)

Happy Thanksgiving to each and every one of you! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Perhaps the sun reflected off of my sparkling mouth and blinded the guy in the truck.

This morning, while wearing my brand new sparkling lip gloss, I witnessed a car accident. And because I was running late for volunteering at Meredith’s school, I kept driving—feeling really crappy for not stopping. Because, seriously? These twinkling (and supposedly pouting) lips need to speak out! Especially in situations where insurance companies and police officers are involved!

As I helped a few of my kindergarten friends learn the difference between 12 and 15 (those numbers are especially tricky, and probably should have been named twoteen and fiveteen), I shimmered and set the plan of calling the police the minute I got home to tell them (using my glimmering mouth) that I saw the accident, and it was totally the guy in the white truck’s fault, and I’m sorry I left the scene, and I am now ready for my community service assignment. (My new glossy lips will really pop when I match them up with an orange jumpsuit.)

After the final kindergartener was able to identify the numbers with no mistakes, I drove to Walgreens to purchase a new set of tweezers. (When your lips are like diamonds, your brows beg for a proper taming. Girl, you know it’s true.) While in the parking lot I saw that a tow truck, holding one of the cars involved in the accident, was across the street at the gas station.

I crossed the street and let my flickering lips lead the way to the tow truck guy.

Me (sparkle, sparkle): Everyone from the accident is alright, right?

Tow Truck Guy (TTG): I’m not really supposed to discuss it.

Me (with lips like shining stars): I know. BUT, I saw the whole thing. And I want to make sure that everyone knows that the guy in the white truck was 100% at fault.

TTG (sort of hypnotized by my glowing yap): Yeah. The guy in the truck knows it was his fault. He’ll be responsible for the whole deal.

Me: Ohmygoshyouwanttokissmethisiscrazy.

TTG: Ma’am?

Me: YoucancallmeSheila. Nothing. Okay then.

So, justice is often served, men who drive white trucks might be all Greased Lightning but at least they’re also sometimes honest, I’m going to write President Obama about my twoteen and fiveteen recommendation, and my lips are luminous with no sticky or tacky feeling. Enjoy your day. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The Thoughts I Had While Watching “The Secret Life of Bees” With My Mother

We’re kicking it off with a four-year-old girl shooting her mother, and I can hear vampires in the next theater. Clearly, I am lost.

Alicia Keyes might be pretty and blah, blah, blah, but she certainly cannot act. Then again, I cannot act. Why do I insist on judging Alicia Keyes? I always judge the pianists, and that’s ridiculous.

I wonder how things would be different had Meredith shot me when she was four.

Okay. This is going to be a busy week. Play date tomorrow, volunteering and work on Tuesday, Harper’s assessment on Wednesday, Thanksgiving dinner Thursday and again on Saturday, church and book club on Sunday along with Twilight.

Wait. Is everyone’s voice muffled, or am I starting to have a panic attack?

(Me: Can you understand what anyone is saying?
Mom: I’m having a bit of trouble. The sound is sort of garbled.)

Whew. Okay then.

Sweet potatoes, marshmallows, butter, sugar, milk, crushed pineapple, peanuts, Cool Whip, cider vinegar, and green apples.

Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth. Lyle Lovett married Julia Roberts who was part of Charlotte’s Web with Dakota Fanning who is starring in The Secret Life of Bees. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>