persephone33

Where to begin?    How about this?  My husband has started bringing me coffee in bed.  It's decadent and makes me feel very spoiled. :D

Next up:  a cute kid story. Last night we braved the mall (*shudder*) to get my dad a Christmas present. (Incidentally, Dad will be here Monday or Tuesday, and is staying the week! I'm excited!) While we were there, the boys asked if they could visit Santa and quite frankly, I was surprised that they wanted to - that no one had ruined their innocence of the magic of it all, as old as they are. But you know, I still get presents under the tree from Santa at my mother's house, so... *shrug*

Anyway, the boys asked for ridiculous things like a television and a dirtbike (!?! Please. Not even. If Father Christmas brings that, he's going to be on MY naughty list). I heard most of what they said, but Santa murmured some stuff and ruffled Aaron's hair and when he got up, my little one's eyes were as wide as saucers. AJ looks at me and pulls me over, kind of in a panic, and says, "He knew my room wasn't clean!"

He's Santa, yo. He knows all.

Speaking of Big Brother Who Knows More Than He Should, I'm not sure at all how I feel about the whole LJ Stats feature. I like a certain amount of anonymity, but I really don't want to do the whole ghost/invisible thing. And if everyone else does, it will lose its point, right? So far, I don't like it. It will just cause drama where it's unwanted, in my opinion, and there's a whole lot of people I don't know reading my journal, apparently, Most of whom are invisible. And there's no point in friends-locking. I mean, what are the lurkers going to do with the recipes I post? They're for food, not bombs. *frown*   Maybe If I understood the feature better, I wouldn't automatically despise it. I've never been good at reading charts. Graphs. Whatever.

Last but definitely not least, I'm reading How The Grinch Stole Christmas for DEAR day (Drop Everything And Read) at the boys' school today. Of all the acting I've done in my life, doing oral interp for first graders is right up there with my favorites. Top five, anyway. They sit there with rapt attention and listen intently. I do so love a good audience!

You know I have a penchant for telling cute kid stories.

Well, I think they're cute. Sometimes. Most times.

But they've sort of moved from cute to maddening in the past few months.

As you the reader may or may not know, my husband and I have a very playful relationship. He likes to lurk in corners and surprise me, or trick me into thinking something that's just patently not true. Because really. I'm gullible. I take people at their word.

I know. Shocking.

But in the past, I've tried to do the same to him with varying degrees of results. I need practice on subterfuge. It's not a strength I have. In any case, I digress.

( Pain in the rear kid & husband story under the cut )

We spent the afternoon returning Christmas gifts, which consisted mainly of Nolan dropping me at the front door of the establishment, me going in and returning and getting a store credit, and him picking me up again. He was also sweet, putting up with my poor mood, and buying me Taco Villa for lunch (If you haven't had it, you're totally missing out).

The BEST thing about the day was that we got two new universal remote controls for the televisions in the living room and our bedroom. (Ours evaporated into thin air. They were here before we went on vacation and the POOF! Gone.)  Anyway, Nolan and I were having a standoff about who would program them.

*****

Me. You do it.

Nolan. You do it.

Me. I went in all the stores and returned everything.

Nolan. I drove.

Me. I bought all the Christmas presents in the first place.

Nolan. I bought you lunch.

Me. (points at the children.) I gave BIRTH to your SONS.

Nolan.  (sighs and picks up remote)  You and your damned uterus.

*****

Yeah, it was cheap.  It's the eternal trump card, and it works EVERY  TIME.

Thank you to all on my f-list who sent me Christmas cards!  heyurs and lyndsiefenele , seegrim  and dragonsangel68 , thank you for the cheer! And an extra special thank you to caramelsilver who sent me Anne Taintor goodies, too! You're all too, too sweet.

(So Nolan and Carrie are in the kitchen last night making dinner and listening to the very cool CD's maureen sent.  Nolan and Carrie have a running joke that he doesn't have any feelings to speak of.  His alien leaders didn't provide him a heart when they dropped him off on this planet.)

Carrie.  (listening to the music) Do you like this?

Nolan.  Who doesn't like the blues?

Carrie. (nods) True story.

Nolan.  It's good.  (dances a little - This dance defies description, really)

Carrie.  (to her handsome husband) You are such a dork.

Nolan.  Careful.  You'll hurt my feeling.

Carrie.  Yes.  The one feeling you have?  Which one?  Anger?

Nolan.  Yeah, you'll hurt my anger.

**************************************

Anyway, thanks, maureen, for the awesome music.  You rock out loud!

I'm meant to be typing fic.

Must gripe first.

How rude is it when you're being served at a retail store, like say, TARGET, or Express, or Dillards or even the grocery store, and the cashiers or salespeople carry on a conversation amongst themselves like you don't exist?  Am I the ONLY person that this bothers?  At this point in my life I still have enough self restraint and concern for how other people perceive me not to be a total bitch and say, "Hello?  Someone standing here?  Someone spending money in your store?  I exist, damn it!"  When I am old, however, I have a feeling I'm going to be one hell of a bitchy old lady.

I worked retail in college.  At Bath and Body Works, actually.  In the beautiful downtown Irving Mall (Where people got shot two years in a row when I worked there)  And we were trained to either involve customers in a conversation, or keep personal stuff that you needed to say 'til after the customer was gone.

Actually, the whole customer service industry has gone to hell in a handbasket.  From the dead eyes that serve you at your favorite restaurant, to the kid at Sonic that hands you a diet coke with cola dripping all down the side, to those witches at the mall who talk about their 'boyfriend and how he's such a bastard' like you aren't there.  I have had it.  HAD IT.  I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Whew.  I feel better.


BOYS.  *rolls eyes*

 So I've been thinking about hugs.

What's up with the half hearted, one armed hugs going around?  I got one of those at church Saturday and I had to work hard to not blanch.  Do I need a fake hug?  No I do not.  If you aren't going to expend the energy to hug me properly, then no, thank you.  You keep that faux affection to yourself.  A hug is both arms wrapped around a person, and involves squeezing.  I don't dole out the cyber hugs like candy, either, so if you've ever received one from me, you know it was sincere.

I'm evidently not a terribly affectionate person, I guess.  Compared to my little sister, who you practically have to sit on to hug, I think I'm a fuzzy teddy bear.    But when I was talking to Nolan yesterday, this conversation took place.
********
Carrie.  What?  I'm sweet.

Nolan.  (laughs)  Okay.

Carrie.  What do you mean by that?

Nolan.  My love, you are a LOT of things, but I wouldn't put you in the category of 'sweet.'
********
So I choose to find this freeing instead of anything more detrimental to my general fabulousness.  And If you are going to hug me, I expect both arms, and to not be able to breathe for a second or two.  Expect that back, too.  Just so you know.