Update on my trip to hell

I've made my list, and checked it twice. Some have been naughty, and some are super nice (there's even a golden girl and a mouseketeer). So I'm all set for the coming year. I even named my list appropriately: This Hand Basket is Cozy.

It's that time of year again

I hope everyone had a nice Christmas. I know I did. I did have one casualty this season. One of my wise men lost his head. I don't really know how this happened. Last night, when I looked down at my nativity set, they were all present and accounted for. The two standing ones, and the one kneeling down. Except one of them was short his head, which somehow had broken off his body and was now laying by the baby Jesus. I guess the stores were out of frankincense and myrrh.

I'll be putting my stuff away this weekend, and working on my annual year-end project—my dead pool list. I had five stiffs this year. Not bad. I think my best was seven. So now I have to come up with five new celebrities that I think might die in 2008. I have one rule, and that is to keep whoever survived from my list on the next year's list. I call it my Boris Yeltsin Rule. So I've been doing some research, and I think I have some good candidates. And before you get all "Oh how terrible," on me, here are some little facts about celebrities.

1. They die, too, just like everyone else does. They just get a bigger picture in the paper and mentions on the news. (And, if they were Anna Nicole Smith, they are apparently supposed to continue to be mentioned on Entertainment Tonight every night until the end of time.)

2. They die in threes. It's freaky, but it's true. I often wonder, when celebrities see that two of their own have died, especially ones that are of a certain age, do they get nervous that they might be number three?

That's it. I need to get my list done this weekend. If you would care to join me, go to stiffs.com and do a list of your own (you know you want to). Come on, there's room in this hand basket for a few more!

Bah Humbug

I love Christmas. I do. I love the smell of my live tree. I love getting and sending cards. My stockings are hung! BUT, some people take it too far, and I have to take issue.

1. People who put wreaths on the front of their car. I hate you even more if it lights up, or if you decorate the luggage rack on top.

2. Christmas ornaments as accessories. Those hooks are for the tree, not your ear lobes. Clothing should not light up. Neither should earrings.

3. Those blow-up things people have in their yards. They are just tacky and creepy. Especially the snow globe ones. Also those light-up reindeer that nod their heads. I add this one only because when I went home to my parents in January, they still had theirs in the yard. Because they were frozen into the ground. Which leads me to...

4. When it's over, it's over. There is no need for Christmas lights and decorations to be up past New Years.

5. The holiday letter. You know the one. People are way too busy to write out cards (just sign your name like I do. It's quick and easy), but they have plenty of time to type up what everyone did since the last holiday letter. In minute detail. If we're friends, I already know what you've been up to all year, and it's probably not any more interesting than what everyone else does on a daily basis. I think my parents still get a card from a couple in Canada who have two kids that are my age. Each year, the letter would brag and brag as those two kids got more and more advanced, and it became hilarious to get it every year. I am honestly surprised that one of them hasn't discovered the cure for cancer, and the other is not the prime minister of Canada.

6. It's a Wonderful Life. I hate that movie with the passion of a thousand suns. What is it, 6 hours long? SO BORING!!! And I can suspend my belief system to accept that Hugh Grant was elected prime minister of Great Britain, but I still can't believe that without the love of a big tall geeky Jimmy Stewart, good-time Donna Reed would be a timid spinster librarian. Please. She would have snagged the captain of the football team if she wanted to! Give us girls a little credit, Frank Capra.

7. People who are all up in arms about "Merry Christmas." Honestly, it's just the December way to say "Have a nice day." No one is trying to be offensive or disrespectful. If you don't believe in Christmas, that is fine. Just smile and nod and say, "Same to you." Because no matter what you believe, it's important that we all try to have a nice day.

OK, that's it. Back to baking cookies and watching Christmas in Connecticut.
Merry Christmas!!!!

And another thing...

Why is that man shopping for his wife's Christmas present at Lowe's? Shopping for his dad, yes I could totally buy that. But his wife? No wonder he doesn't end up with anything but a gift card. And you know what she's going to use that gift card for? Probably to buy his next birthday present. That's the kind of store you only buy something for your wife in if she has specifically requested a gift that you can only find at Lowe's. It's like buying your wife a vacuum or cookware. Unless she specifically asked for a vacuum or really loves cooking and has been dropping hints about a bright red KitchenAid mixer that would look great in my new kitchen, just don't do it. And certainly don't go wandering around the hardware store thinking you'll stumble upon something pretty. No one wants a chore for Christmas.

Baby, I wouldn't want to drive your car.

It's bad, I know, but I tend to watch a lot of TV. Even if it's just set on the Food Network on a Saturday while I'm making breakfast of getting ready. So I end up seeing a lot of commercials. And, boy, are they stupid. Especially the car ads.

One shows a woman on the phone saying she's nervous about blind dates but for her date to not show up.... Oh, he's there. Outside her apartment in his car with the lights out. Stalking her? First of all, the first rule of blind dates is that you don't tell strangers where you live. You meet at a public place. BUT maybe this girl did her research. Perhaps he's a close friend or relative of a friend of hers, and she's been assured he's not a crazy person. She's googled him and found nothing off-putting. But of course she can't see him, parked outside in his McAveragemobile. So he drives away. Hey jackass how about flashing the lights. Or, here's a thought. Get your bum ass out of the car and go up and ring the bell. Because ladies, if he can't even do that, God only knows what other strikes he has against him. Rest assured, you giggly bingo-loving lady, you probably dodged a bullet in that lazy Toyota driving dick. Now you're all dressed up, so call your friends, hit the clubs and strut your stuff. And I know. They got me. I know what car he’s driving. But that doesn’t make me want to run out and buy one. It makes them a little creepy.

In another one, an exhausted father comes stumbling up to his fancy mini van parked in his driveway and throws open the door to show two little kids, watching a DVD while playing cards. In a running vehicle. Parked in the driveway. The air conditioning cooling them on the beautiful sunny day. He's so happy to have finished a tree house for them. But it doesn't have leather seats. Or a DVD player. Or the everlasting battery this van apparently has where it can be left parked and running in the driveway all to live long day. Maybe it runs on fresh air and sunshine, instead of over-priced gasoline. The kids say they are fine in the van. The scene cuts before we see the dad grab the ungrateful brats by their hair and toss them into the yard on their lazy asses.

Or is that just the version I would film?