WELL...I'VE DONE IT NOW.

I'm a sucker for "last one" scenarios, and my own worst enemy. I never know I need something until the fear I can't have it strikes. So I've dropped numerous hints regarding my desire for a tablet from Santa, but considering he's managed to tell me everything he's purchased and has asked virtually nothing about my electronic desires (play with that as you may...it's Friday and possibly the last one...ever), I started to panic.


I'd narrowed it down to the Kindle Fire HD 16gb thinking that would serve most of my needs (again...thoughts allowed). I decide as I pull into the drivethru for another "home-cooked meal" and spy the BestBuy sign, to just go in and "see."

Yeah right. First you should know the return policy for BestBuy is fairly liberal and as long as you don't remove the merchandise from the boxes, you will get a full refund, including any extended warranty purchased.

So I stand there, handling the same store display as several hundred others have during the day after picking their nose and god-knows-what-else with their grimy hands, checking out all the features. Yep, I'm certain this is what I want and when the sales clerk (my, they've upped the standard for hiring clerks because he is cuuute!) goes over all the options I decide I need to take an assertive step in securing my future.

This decision also possibly saves my husband from a miserable Christmas morning wherein I cry and accuse him of never listening to me, ignoring me as an important person in our marriage, only thinking of himself as he ogles the chrome steps I've bought for his new truck (yes NEW) because I listened to him, and ending with a melodramatic display where I possibly toss the Christmas casserole in the garbage and go so far as to question if he has a mistress—who got a Kindle Fire HD for Christmas. Yes…the stuff soap operas are famous for.

This decision is also cemented when it is discovered there is only one Kindle Fire HD 16bg left! I wrap my fingers tightly around the box, a deep feral growl rumbling in my throat at unsuspecting passersby who take note I have the last one in my possession. As we round the corner to the checkout stand, we pass the display holding an iPad Mini. A momentary discussion transpires on the pros and cons of both tablets, ending with the acknowledgement there is nowhere in the universe you can get an iPad Mini at the moment (even the Apple Store is out until after Christmas), confirming I've made the right choice.

Then the evil store manager who has overheard the conversation between me and my commission-earning-boy-toy leans in and announces they received six iPad Minis in the morning shipment and have 3 left. A woman who had no business interjecting into my private moment, overhears and immediately stakes claim for two of them. Do the math.

The Mayans have nothing on the whole asteroid theory, because my immediate universe exploded. One iPad Mini left! One! I didn't know I how desperately I needed an iPad Mini until this very moment!

The sparkle in my salesman eyes turned my bones spongy. He reads my thoughts, anticipates my next move, and swoops in (now imagined wearing a body-hugging, if not "enhancing" [can't there be a "Wonder Crotch" in men's underwear it we get them in our bras? It's only fair.] spandex superhero suit, complete with furling cape) heroically staking claim on my behalf of the last remaining iPad Mini. The store manager places the shiny white box on top of my Kindle Fire HD box in front of the throngs of customers who have circled, drooling and green with envy.

Of course where one brain is overworked in a man, the second one suffers blood loss, and my salesman who foolishly believes I'll relinquish custody of the Kindle now that I have the iPad Mini, makes the mistake of reaching for the box, still clenched in my numbing fingers.

His eyes how they twinkle, his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose…about to be bloodied. I clutch both boxes to my chest, which after all the chocolate consumed over years of writing and the holidays packing in more, the "sisters" have become a force unto their own to be reckoned with, daring him to remove it (of course it's buried pretty deep at this point and if he tried, could constitute a felony). The crowd gasps when they realize I'm going to buy both. My inner goddess faints after tallying the final price.

Again, I reaffirm the store's return policy, smile at the clerk who has returned to his normal attire in my head and is happy with my purchases for good cause, and walk out of the store. I pick up cheeseburgers and fries, slip into the garage and make up some lame excuse about traffic causing my delay.

Later I sneak out to the car, retrieve my precious gems and stow them under the bed. At Two A.M. I awake in a cold sweat, slither out of bed and onto my knees. I use my stupid smart phone (another blog in and of itself) as a flashlight, illuminating my extravagant purchase.

What the hell have I done? And how do I choose? Maybe I should keep both? My inner goddess is presently packing her bags because it's become clear I've truly lost my mind. My dilemma has developed complications. Santa may have a heart attack.

So my Christmas elves…thoughts? If you had the choice, which one would go back and which one would find a way into your stocking? Or…are you as evil as I am in deviant thinking and could possibly create a fathomable rationalization to keep both?

Stay tuned—I have four days to decide (or maybe not…).

Merry Christmas my friends!

WACKY WEDNESDAY - Looking for a last minute gift idea? Well...

 

I'm peeved. Someone stole my Christmas spirit and I can't find it anywhere! December 1st started out great...Christmas music, a little shopping, decorating the house--all things that usually put some bounce in my step and a flutter of excitement in my tummy. I felt a little slip away when the washer died, a bit more when the large garage door decided not to go up anymore (thank heavens Mini Coopers can basically turn inside out and after some creative turns, I was able to escape out the smaller garage), and don't get me started on family drama!  I could write a whole saga on this past weekend alone titled:  "As The Stomach Turns..."

An inkling of "cheer" returned when I perused the Ralph Lauren site for boxer briefs my son requested (yes...he asked for designer underwear) and the page opened to several images, now locked in my brain to be relished later. Far cry from the old JC Penny catalog ads from years back. Ladies, if you ever need a visual to describe a hunky hero, might I suggest starting with "cotton basics." Very impressive...abs. I'm like "for real?" blotting the drop of drool from the corner of my mouth.

But the ultimate "kill joy" came in the form of an email message, "Christmas is coming." Big newsflash. I've been on an antacid diet for weeks anticipating the joyous occasion. Of course the simple message could by no means be offensive, right? Wrong.

I opened the festive looking email thinking I'd received a "e-gram" of sorts and low and behold, an urgent message alerting me to this "uh-hum" event, told me that I needed to rush to a certain website and stock up for the holidays with...Viagra or Cialis. Oh yes. That's exactly what my pantry shelf is missing. I stood there just the other day, scratching my chin, notepad in hand thinking...hey, what do I need to stock up on? What items need replenishing. 

I'm a mess in my office (which by the way, is the sign of a creative mind), but my pantry is fairly well organized. I have my canned fruit in one spot, vegetables in the other, baking staples, paper products, cereal, meals-in-a-box for those "write-in" days, and oh, that's right...my "enhancement" drugs --a spot reserved  right between the jars of spaghetti sauce and cans of tuna fish.

What concerns me is I didn't notice the spot was "bare" (no pun intended...honest). Hmm. Now my memory short-circuits frequently, especially this time of year, but I think I'd remember if my significant other was popping little blue pills. Yep, quite sure after 36 years of marriage, I'd notice. Of course in the midst of hanging holly, decorating the tree, standing in long lines to purchase gifts, oh...and trying to write an award winning novel, I might have missed something or unknowingly hung a bell in a precarious spot. However, nothing has "chimed" lately.

And yet, some stranger out in the great cyber beyond, seems to be concerned that my holiday will not be complete without purchasing this item. Granted I'm always looking for last minute gift ideas...you know, "stocking stuffers" (I'm just getting started), but this? Never came close to making the wish list.

Of all the things I've expressed a desire (really, no pun) to have wrapped under the tree...a new iPod, tickets to a favorite concert, a new washer so I can decorate the curb with the piece of crap I have now, or even a new toothbrush in my Christmas stocking--one with bristles that will hold a bead of toothpaste, I don't remember sitting on Santa's lap (seriously, absolutely no pun) and asking for these little "pills of joy." I'm pretty sure such a request would cause a reaction (no, no...think screaming...no wait...not screaming).

In other words (and yes, this is a test of how many cliches I can squeeze in here), I do believe the little elf who was kind enough to inform me I should jump (okay, intentional choice of words) on the chance to acquire some of  "Santa's helpers" for a seasonably good rate (I'm having fun now...) apparently, has been mistaken.

I only wish there was some way to let those at "the Pole" (stay with me) know how annoying it is when they clog my inbox (......) with such messages. Therefore, I'm forced to send a message of my own.

In the hustle and bustle of this joyous season

I honestly can't think of a reason,

Why I'd spend my last cent

On penile enchancement

When I haven't got one in the first place.

I know there's a list of "Naughty and nice"

My name should appear on the first at least twice,

But the gift I'm expecting

Simply takes no erecting

Nor can it be bought off some cyber website.

So stop sending me nonsense I find such a bore

Messages, pictures--send me no more,

Your pharmaceutical hash

Is now in the trash

You address permanently logged under "spam."

For those of you feeling slightly overwhelmed, exhausted, and huffing "bah humbug" under your breath, I hope I've put a little smile on your face, caused an eyebrow to raise, or at the very least, taken your mind off the long list of things still left to do, even if only for a moment. Find the humor in life--the knot in the rope you're swinging from, and hold on.

As always, friends, thanks for stopping by and sharing in the wackiness of my Wednesday!

IT'S THE HOLIDAY SEASON...Strap on your bells, baby

  Today's melody:  "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas by the man with the velvet voice, Johnny Mathis.

I grew up listening to Christmas albums by artists Johnny Mathis, Ed Ames, Andy Williams, Ray Coniff, Mitch Miller, and an old favorite, Dennis Day (with Jack Benny). Wow! Talk about a "time warp." I've got whiplash! A couple of years ago, my brother found me the old album by Ed Ames "Christmas is the Warmest Time of the Year," which gave me a favorite carol, Some Children See Him... It was one of my favorites, and while I've added Amy Grant, Kurt Bestor, Mannheim Steamroller, as well as Christmas tunes from my favorite bands of today, Johnny Mathis and Ed Ames still get equal time on my holiday playlist. My top ten favorites?

1.   Breath of Heaven by Amy Grant

2.   Stille Nacht by Mannheim Steamroller

3.   I'll Be Home for Christmas toss up between Johnny Mathis and Karen Carpenter (The Carpenters)

4.   A Christmas to Remember by Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton

5.  Grown Up Christmas List by Amy Grant

6.   Wonderful Christmas Time by Paul McCartney

7.   Last Christmas by Jimmy Eat World

8.   Boots by The Killers

9.   White Christmas by Bing Crosby

10.  Some Children See Him... by Ed Ames

I pulled out the several plastic tubs full of Christmas decorations this weekend because I couldn't face housework. This way, I give the dust a "holiday feel"...literally. My theory is if I put enough angels, nutcrackers, snowmen, and Santas at eye level or above, no one will notice the floors need scrubbing. Add colored lights, dim the overhead ones, and put a fire in the fireplace and company will never notice the hand prints smudging the woodwork, or the dog's nose print on the glass insert in the back door. That's why we spike the wassail and serve rum saturated eggnog. It completes the holiday illusion. Everything appears wonderful and sparkly.

    Does your heart do a little pitter-pat when you open your decoration boxes and find your favorite ornaments? I collect angels and nutcrackers. I also have a fetish for Christmas dishes. But my favorite decoration? My nativity. It's the first decoration I put out and the last one I put away. Why? Because it symbolizes "peace." Arranging my porcelain figurines to create a scene depicting a sacred moment, reminds me to keep my heart open, allow forgiveness, quiet my snarky tongue, and find the good in everything. Not an easy task in this world.   

I really believe that's why we look forward to the holidays (even Grinch found his adrenalin rushing in anticipation of the season). Granted, the commercialism, overspending, and expectations dim the shine of the golden moment, but push all that aside and reflect on the "feeling" of Christmas. When you walk into the mall to do your shopping, there's a festive air. Carols play over the speakers, decorations hang from ceilings, and the smell of cinnamon almonds, roasted nuts, and chocolate fill your lungs.

And overall, people smile more. After Black Friday takes its casualties, people seem kinder, more patient waiting in line...more giving. If the Salvation Army volunteers stood outside grocery stores ringing their bells in August, do you think they'd get as much? Would you be inclined to drop that $5.00 bill in the red can mid May as you would mid December? We crave the "spirit" Christmas creates.

So why does it take twelve months for us to notice the neighbor who is struggling, or the homeless person huddled against a building to avoid the wind, or sadly, become mindful of the soldier away from home this one month versus the other eleven in the year? Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could carry the gentle charity of Christmas beyond December 25th? That's why I won't put my nativity away until the last moment. As long as it sits across the room lit up with tiny white lights encased in angel hair, it's a glowing reminder of the kind of person I should try to be year round...not just at Christmas.

What decoration do you cherish, regardless of how ragged it's become over time? What ornament completes your tree? Mine? Small framed pictures of my children and grandchildren on Santa's lap that I tuck within the evergreen branches. Funny how no matter how old they get, when they come to the house, they all look to see where their picture is. I've even found them "re-arranged" to make sure they get front and center attention over a sibling.

So what ornament or decoration places you in the time capsule and zaps you back to a time or place where life seemed simpler? What certain carol puts the familiar ache in your heart or the tear in your eye?