10 Mostly Realistic Resolutions for 2014

Well, it's that time of year, folks. It's New Year's Eve eve. You know, the almost-dawn of a dandy new year that always seems to require us to make useless resolutions that will prompt new goals for the year ahead. I personally tend to avoid resolutions. I mean really, why do we need to resolve to do things just because a new year is starting? I'm perfectly capable to making easily breakable resolutions on any of the other 364 days of the year. But whatevs. 

In the spirit of feigned enthusiastic participation, I'm going to bite the blogging bullet and set some mostly realistic resolutions for myself for 2014. None of that "lose weight" or "get fit" or "quit cursing" nonsense either. After all, I'm nothing if not original. So get ready. Buckle yourself in. Ready???

1.   I'm no Adele, but dammit I'm gonna sing. I love music, and I love to sing. But when I do sing, I sing very quietly, because frankly, I don't sing all that well. Whether I'm in my car, or in my office, or doing some housework, I usually sing only loud enough for myself to hear. But that's about to change. Why should I worry about what anyone thinks of my voice? Who cares if it sucks?! YOLO, as my grandson would say. So brace yourself, world. Sing loud and proud--that's my new motto. Spread the word.

2.  Conquer my fear of spiders. And Ian Somerhalder.  OK, maybe just the spiders.

3.   I will stop procrastinating. Like, as soon as possible. Or tomorrow. Or when it's most convenient. Stop hounding me, OK?

4. I'm gonna stop blaming the cat when I fart. I mean, that's just not cool, right? And sooner or later someone is going to realize that I don't even have a cat

5.  I will do less laundry. Just as soon as I figure out precisely how long I can wear the same clothes before they really start to stink. Or maybe I just need to stock up on Febreze. And shop more.

6.  And speaking of laundry, I will be much more proactive about shart marks. Because ew. Just ewww.

7.  I'll stop laughing so loudly every time I hear someone say the word, 'Pivot.' (This may be my biggest challenge of the year.)

8.  I'm gonna write like Dr. Seuss once in awhile. After all...

     I really like his writing style

     it makes me laugh, it makes me smile

     and life is short, we're short on time

     so why not write with words that rhyme?

 (If the Seuss man says it, it must be true!)

9.  At least once, I will remove the empty toilet paper roll and instead of replacing it, I will just leave it empty so that "someone" else has to get up and get a new toilet paper roll for themselves. That ought to teach 'em.

    

    

10.  I will watch more Vampire Diaries. Because I can. And because it's harmless and fun entertainment. And because life is too short to miss out on dancing hot vampires.

There now: 10 mostly realistic resolutions for 2014. I feel quite confident I can attain all of them too. Just keeping it real, don'tcha know. ;)

Happy New Year from me, Tina, at Tinalicious!

 

The Day Our Cat Ate Christmas

I have a lot of holiday memories...some sweet and sentimental...some silly...and some just so outrageous, they almost seem too strange to be true, even though they totally did happen. Like, for real. What I'm about to share with you is just such a memory...of  the year our cat ate Christmas. OK, well, she didn't exactly eat Christmas, per se.  But she did eat a bunch of Christmas tinsel off the tree. That counts, right?

So anyhoots, this is the amazing true story of our cat's penchant for  eating the silver sparkling spaghetti-like strands we call tinsel off the tree. Patra had eaten tinsel before, as I recall, and without incident. In one hole and out the other, more or less. But 20 years ago on Christmas day, I think she must have eaten way too much. And it didn't take my parents' long to realize that something was terribly wrong with her. So naturally, they had to call a Vet. On Christmas Day. And you know, that's a lot like the feeling you get if you have to call a plumber on Christmas Day. [Lucky me though, I married a plumber!]

They finally got a hold of one and he confirmed that Patra had an intestinal blockage. She had eaten so much tinsel and her body just couldn't digest it. So the only option presented by the Vet was surgery. To the less-than-cheery-holiday-tune of $450. Even today that's a LOT of Scrooge McBucks, but we're talking 20 years ago. And my folks just didn't have that kind of money, which they told the Vet.

His reply was so completely devoid of the true spirit of Christmas and good will toward men, that in true, Scrooge-like fashion he just said, matter-of-factly, "No money, no cat."

And to understand my mom's reply to the Vet, you must also understand that she, uh, didn't exactly love Patra. You can read all about their semi-peaceful co-existence in my Time To Get a Cat post. My dad fawned all over that cat like he'd given birth to it himself or something. But Mom? Yeah, not so much. So her reply to the Vet came as no surprise. "So keep the cat" was all she could say.

I guess at that point the Vet realized Mom was dead serious. So in the tiny ounce of Christmas Spirit he could muster, he agreed to let them make payments. But when the payments didn't come fast enough for them (naturally), they turned my folks over to a collection agency.  So then of course my mom called the Vet's office and told them she'd been making regular payments, and would continue to do so until her account was paid in full, but ONLY if they called off the collection agency. Which, they promptly did. And mom continued to make her payments until they were paid off, and they never returned to that Vet again.

Patra survived the intestinally-tangled-tinsel ordeal, which thrilled my dad to no end. But considering that Patra had just cost them $450--which, I'm sure, was more than Mom had even spent on Christmas presents for the entire family, she wasn't exactly throwing a New Year's party in Patra's honor.

We never saw tinsel on the tree again after that year either. Yeah, mom just said it was too expensive.

Mistletoe, Meet Edward

OK, so I just had this hankering [and I can't tell you how often I endeavor to use the word "hankering" in a blog post] to create an RPatz/Edward-themed meme to post here on the blog for the holidays. It would have been so much easier to post graphics that I've seen on the web, but for an uptight perfectionist like myself, that would just never do.  So I created one myself for all you Twihards out there.

And since last year, RPatz was voted as the number one star we'd most like to kiss under the mistletoe, that served as my inspiration for the image below. Hope you like it. Feel free to snag it, if you want--but right-click and save it to your computer to do so. Please don't hotlink to it, or sadly, I'll have to delete this lovely face from the post all together. And that would be a real shame, no?

Team Edward. Probably goes without saying at this point.

If by some chance RPatz appears under your mistletoe this year, do send him over here when you're through with him. ;)

The Truth About Santa

I was just thinking back to that day in my past...that dark, dreadful day when my childhood was robbed from me and I was thrown headfirst into the abyss of holiday reality.  You know what day I'm talking about, right? Yep, it was the day I learned The Truth About Santa.

I believe I was in third grade. And up until that dark, dreadful day I was living blissfully unaware in my Santa Claus fantasy land, where all the sugar plums were free to roam. I regularly put out the obligatory plate of cookies and milk for the jolly old elf, and was only too happy to do it. After all, he was bringing me all sorts of Christmas goodies, and he had to get tired lugging gifts all over the world in his sleigh in one night, right? I would also occasionally leave out my autograph book for him, along with a thank you note, in which I asked him to sign the book, which he always did. And I always felt so special and lucky to have gotten his actual signature.

I was quite content in my Kris Kringle-filled world. Never mind that many of my friends no longer believed in Santa. Never mind that I often got teased for still believing.  I still believed, and that's all that mattered to me. Until that dark, dreadful day.

I remember crying when my mom gave me the cold, hard reality check about my beloved St. Nick. I was in shock. Utterly stunned. And completely pissed off! If my 8-year-old brain could have rendered a coherent thought, (and if I thought I could have gotten away with it) I'm sure I would have turned to my mom and said without hesitation,

"Are you shitting me right now, Mom? WTH?!"

But I don't really remember saying a whole lot as I processed my newly acquired wisdom.

The cookies? The Milk? The Autograph Book?
Faked. Faked. And Faked.

Honestly, I felt so betrayed. So misled. So lied to! But as it was threatening to crush my heart of hearts, and whatever was left of my tattered and torn Christmas spirit, my mom gave me a pep talk, as only mothers can. I don't remember it word-for-word, but it went a little something like this...

Santa Claus was a real person, somewhere, long, long ago. And he cared so much about other people, especially children, that he would bring them gifts and candy and such to fill their stockings, which they'd hang by the fire, on Christmas Eve. But at some point, Santa got very old and he passed away, threatening to end his generous Christmas traditions. But parents all over the world decided that the true spirit of Christmas wasn't Santa Claus himself, rather it was his spirit of giving. So, to keep that spirit of giving alive for children every year at Christmas, parents would continue Santa's Christmas traditions in his place. Thus, the spirit of Christmas would never really die. Mom also said that if I always believed in the spirit of Christmas, then Santa would always be part of Christmas...that he'd never die, unless we stopped believing.

As I said, that may not be word-for-word, but that was the  basic story I remember. And it's the story I told my daughter when it was time for her to learn The Truth About Santa as well. My 7-year-old grandson still believes for now, and I hope he will for awhile longer. But I'm sure I'll share that same story with him when it's his time to learn the truth.

That pep talk really did help me recover--at least a bit--from the trauma inflicted upon me on that dark, dreadful day in my childhood. I was still pissed. But at least I knew that Santa had been real. At some point. But after I had calmed down and had time to think more clearly, an alarming thought penetrated my young brain...and I just had to ask my mom...

"What about the Tooth Fairy?"

WTF Wednesday

OK, so I've decided to take a walk on the wild side and change up my usual (semi) Wordless Wednesday routine by adding a new category: WTF Wednesday. Just trying to keep things exciting, if only for my own personal amusement. ;) And after all...

Sometimes my posts for WTF Wednesday will be photos, and sometimes they will be textual posts, and sometimes a combination of the two. But the posts will always have one thing in common: they'll always make me (and hopefully you), think, WTF?!

For our first WTFW, I've got photos to share...and since it's holiday time, lets call these WTF Xmas Gifts. Would YOU (or your kids) want any of these for Christmas?

Pee & Poo Plush Toys?

Yes, really, nothing typifies the season of perpetual hope and the true spirit of giving than a set of plush Pee and Poo Toys. What kid, or perhaps freakazoid crackhead, wouldn't love these?  I wonder if they have a plush Vomit friend to go with?

Baby...in Plastic

 

Now we're talking. This is the perfect gift for the little girl on your Christmas list: a screaming plastic "Lovely Baby" in what appears to be a hermetically sealed plastic tomb. Can someone please explain to me the definition of "Lovely" though? Because I think I define that differently than the doll-makers do.

Choir Boy Candles

I'll leave it up to you to decide the appropriate recipients of these Choir Boy Candles.
All I can say is, WTF?!

Have a great Wednesday.

Tucker the Turtle

Here it is, a not quite lovely way too cold feels-like-winter-but-it's-Autumn kind of day, and at the moment, I have the entire house to myself. I could be doing something seriously productive, or meaningful, or even profound (no seriously, I do have my moments). But instead, what am I doing? Yep. Blogging. But is there anything wrong with that? I'm an adult, no? Free to ramble in virtual space if I feel it, right?

So to fill up some prime Tinalicious blog space, I'm going to tell you...in the least babble-filled way possible (Gawd...the pressure), about Tucker.  And who is Tucker, you ask? Let's meet him, shall we?

And why am I sharing with you this adorable and yet presumably insignificant plush toy that is decked out in his finest winter attire (yes, it's just a hat, but it's a damn cute hat!)?

Well, it's because the Hubs bought it for me when we went Christmas shopping recently. And why oh why did he do that? Because I asked for it [she says with a wry smile].  Natch. Which then, of course, begs the question: why would I--an educated, intellectual, creative, and seemingly mature woman--ask for a stuffed animal in the midst of holiday shopping?

Well, there's really only one answer I can give you. Because. Because I felt like it. Because he was cute. Because I knew that turtle's name the moment I eyes laid on him [and no, the voices in my head didn't tell it to me]. Because he looked up at me with those big brown plastic eyes and asked me to take him home, in the way that only inanimate winter-dressed plush objects possibly can. And very probably because I'm just a giant goofball, who is just weird enough to walk into a kids' toy and candy store at Christmas time and come out with something not for either of my grandchildren, but just for me.

And the Hubs, being the awesomely accepting and raised-eyebrow-sporting-but-giving guy that he is, bought Tucker the Turtle for me. No. Questions. Asked.

That's love, my friends, all wrapped up in little yellow plush turtle with his dapper winter cap.

Destiny's Hanger

You know, babies never cease to amaze me. I went through babydom with my daughter, Jennifer, and again with my grandson, Dylan. And now that I baby-sit my granddaughter, Destiny four days per week, I get to experience it all over again.

Aside from the predictable downsides, like changing poopy diapers (that sh*t literally never gets old, eh?), the joys of teething, and struggling to keep up with a crawling baby who seems to have more energy than the Energizer Bunny, it's all a fabulous experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. And it produces some wonderful little moments as I see the world anew through Destiny's eyes.

Case in point: I was doing some Christmas shopping the other day and picked up what is unlikely to be the last of Destiny's Christmas gifts.  And since babies grow at a rate far faster than seems humanly possible--even putting aside the fashionista factor-- she always needs clothes. So, being my cheap frugal and thrift-minded self, I decided to look through the clearance rack for some bargains. I found a couple of really cute jumpers for only $3 apiece. Perfect! So I snatched them up and decided I'd give  the pink one to her now and save the brown one for Christmas.

I stopped by my daughter's house on the way home, to drop off the jumper. Destiny sees me and comes crawling toward me at her usual bionic speed, and wearing her pretty-as-a-princess smile. So I pulled out the pink jumper as she gains momentum and she seems truly excited by her trendy new outfit. Then I handed it to her. And what does she do? She proceeds to wiggle the jumper off its plastic hanger...and drops the jumper on the ground...so she can play with the hanger. Apparently that was her plaything of choice for the next half hour or so. And now that hanger is part of her little living room toy stash.

You just gotta love a baby's view on what's important in the world, don'tcha? Plastic hangers? Yes.  Cute little pink jumpers? Not so much. And I definitely love the face that looks up at me from the baby who truly appreciates her prized plastic hanger. She is truly my Treasure.

Happy Halloween

I'm just sitting here on the evening before Halloween, thinking about all the Happy Halloweens past, and decided to wax nostalgic blog about some of them. It has everything to do with all the great memories I have of my daughter, Jennifer dressing up at Halloween and taking her Trick-or-Treating. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that writing this post gets me an entry into a contest to win a fantabulous Canon Rebel T2i camera via the SITS Halloween Party Giveway. OK, well, maybe it has a little something to do with the camera giveaway. But as I do enjoy thinking about happy memories of my daughter's childhood, I may as well blog about it. And if it also gives me the chance to win a camera, is there really anything wrong with that? I think not.

One of Jennifer's first Halloweens that she dressed up for was when she was 2. Money was really tight, so even buying a costume was asking a lot of us that year. So I improvised a bit.  She already had a new pink footy-sleeper, so I just bought some bunny ears and a tail, and sewed the tail onto the sleeper. And voila: instant bunny. She was darn cute too, if I do say so myself.

Sorry for the less than quality photos here...these were taken back in the day. You know, PD (Pre-Digital). So these are scan and post pics that were originally taken with whatever sort of crappy camera I could afford at the time. If nothing else, at least they present a snapshot of my costume-clad daughter through the years, grainy as they  might be, along with the state of photographic technology during her childhood.

Another Happy Halloween memory was the year that Jennifer wanted to be Cat Woman. This was the same year the Batman movie came out that featured Michelle Pfeiffer as the sex kitten feline villain who was hot and bothered for the caped crusader. And Holy Bimbos, Batman! She was hot, even to me (but lets just keep that between us, shall we?)  Cat Woman costumes were not cheap, but since I was (and still am), I figured I'd just buy the Cat Woman mask and make the rest of the costume for Jennifer myself. I think it turned out pretty good. With some black clothes and some mock-leather fabric and a little white dimensional fabric paint, Jennifer was the spitting image of Cat Woman, yeah, even if I do say so myself.

Please be sure to note the loud carpet in the above photo. The house we lived in at the time was our first home, and I believe that carpet was original to the house. I like roses as much as the next gal, but I'm sorry, they do not belong on living room carpet.  You might also spy the VCR behind Jennifer on the entertainment center.  And on the left, what do we have? Oh yes, it's a stereo...with cassette players. Show that pic to anyone under 10 who lives in your house and you can have some fun while they try to figure out exactly what they're seeing. ;)

And finally, there was the year that Jennifer wanted to be transported to the 50's and wear a poodle skirt. And yes, being the cheap crafty gal that I am, I once again made her costume. Well, I made the skirt anyway. And even though the 50's was actually before my time, I think Jennifer made the picture-perfect-poodle-skirted girl of the 50's. Yes, if I do say so myself.

I'll also point out that in this photo, Jennifer is standing in the same living room as the Cat Woman photo. We managed to jump in to the then-20th Century and get new carpet by that time. We even put wainscoting and wallpaper on the walls by then. And yet we still managed to keep the tired entertainment center, the VCR, and even the stereo with cassette players.

But hey, I just want everyone to know that I had one of the first DVD players on my block...one that holds 3 DVD's at one time instead of just one. And, um, yeah, I still have it too. It's gotta be over 10 years old by now, but it's still kicking! Blu Ray, you say? Ha! Who needs it?! I couldn't care less about Blu Ray. OK, well, maybe I would like a Blu Ray player, almost as much as I'd like the new refrigerator I keep lobbying the Hubs for. But it can wait. I've got time, and I'm not running low on my finely-tuned nagging abilities either.

So anyhoots, these are my memories of some of my favorite Halloweens with my favorite daughter, Jennifer. [Relax, I'm not really playing favorites. She's an only child.] Hope you enjoyed my waltz down Trick-or-Treat Memory Lane. It was definitely a fun waltz...even if I do say so myself.

Happy Halloween!

Christmas Past

I'm just sitting here thinking about Christmas and the Holidaze, and how different it is now from when I was a kid. I mean, the things kids get today is a far cry from what it was in my increasingly distant youth. Today's gift lists include things like iPods, Xboxes, cellphones, and flat screen TV's.  Hmmm...back in the day...you know, the dinosaur age, we were asking for things like record players, Ataris, walkie talkies, and um, there was only one TV in the whole house and cable did not exist, so there'd be no point in asking for a TV!

At any rate, I thought I'd share with you some of my memories of favorite Christmas gifts from Christmas Past.

Barbie's  Country Camper

Now really, isn't this the only way for Barbie to travel...in her own RV?  It had a popout on the side, and a fold-out table; not to mention sleeping bags, a  tilt-up windshield, and a rooftop luggage rack (no sense in letting all their luggage get in the way of their indoor RV fun!)  There was enough room for friends to come along too. Sometimes Malibu Barbie would come, and sometimes even GI Joe.  You just had to be careful with him though; Joe was a little on the stiff side and did not get along with Ken. And if the two of them had a few beers too many, well, all hell would break loose in that camper!

The Six Million Dollar Man Doll

Based on the popular TV show, who wouldn't want Steve Austin,  The Six Million Dollar Man doll? Not only did he have a hole in the back of his head so you could see through is bionic eye, but he had roll up skin on his bionic arm and legs, so you could see (and remove) his bionic parts! How creepy cool is that?! Besides, he came in handy when Ken and GI Joe were not getting along, because he could totally kick their ass! And even though he did have his very own bionic girlfriend, we all know he was secretly in love with Barbie, so he enjoyed tagging along with her. No wonder she needed an RV.

Electronic Detective

Now this was a game I got in the early 80's. You got to be a detective to solve murder mysteries.  Who Done It? It was your job to find out. There were over 130,000 mysteries to solve, and it included all sorts of sound effects too: gun shots, sirens, even the funeral dirge, and more. My best friend and I both wanted to be private detectives when we grew up...so this game was good training, to be sure.  Talk about your hi-tech toys! This was the height of advanced computer logic...OK well, based on computer logic of 1979, when the game was created anyway.

Mork from Ork Egg Ship

Mork from Ork made his first TV appearance on the hit TV show Happy Days in the late 70's. Played by the legendary comic, Robin Williams (who was an unknown at the time), his character became such a hit that he got his own TV show: Mork & Mindy. I loved Mork! I couldn't wait to watch that show each week. It was truly one of my all time faves. One year for Christmas, my grandma and grandpa got all of us these Mork from Ork Egg Ships--because, well, Mork's mode of travel was indeed an egg ship, what else?! The plastic ship came in two parts, with a 4" Mork figure inside.  And Shazbot! I loved that thing!

Portable Cassette Tape Player

Not as old as an 8-track player, but long before CD players (and iPods), there was the cassette player. And if you were really lucky, you also had a portable cassette player, like this red one that I got one year. I was able to not only take this with me to friends' houses, but I could also record stuff. Talk about old school! Remember those days? If you liked a song on the radio you'd just push your tape recorder up to the radio speaker...really close...and push record, and then you had to remember not to talk or make any other noise while recording or it would be on the tape too and you'd ruin the whole thing! You also had to be sure you had enough space on the tape for all the songs you were recording; but inevitably, at some point, you'd run out of tape...usually just as your favorite song was recording. Ah, the good ole days.

Before I leave, I wanted to share with you the one Christmas present I really, really wanted as a child, but never got.  It's one of those things you can't really explain, but you just really want it. So what was it?

That's right: Star Trek Communicators. Yes folks, as a child I was indeed a Trekkie. Space travel. Exploring new worlds. Pointy-eared Vulcans. Hot space ship captains. Yeah, I hear you snickering, but that's because you thought James T. Kirk (aka William Shatner) was hot too.  Don't pretend like you didn't. The Communicators were actually walkie-talkies, and I thought they were the coolest things. The top flipped open and you could talk into it.  I never got them as a child. But oh yeah, the Hubs and I have some now. We call them...cellphones.

Beam me up, Scotty. And Happy Holidays.