Operation Pink Herring

Christmas highlights

I'd like to thank Jesus for being born on a Tuesday this year, and also thank Michael for deciding to spend the next few months in Utah, prompting our family's early Christmas celebration.  Thanks to these two fine men, I had a lovely four-day weekend to relax and do a whole lot of nothing.

Actually, that's not true at all.  We did lots of stuff.  In somewhat chronological order, we:

• Enjoyed real, hearty breakfasts every day: pancakes, Trader Joe's sausages, bacon, eggs, cinnamon toast... mmmm.
• Exercised (two yoga classes and one good run for me, Krav Maga classes for Joel)
• Bought enough food to last us through a nuclear winter (It's been awhile since our last trip to Sam's Club.  We made up for it by buying enough meat and cereal to last us through to next Christmas)
• Bought even more food (because you just can't buy produce at Sam's.  So we had to go to the grocery store, too.  Naturally.)
• Picked out tentative paint colors for the bedroom (New Year's project: paint the bedroom.  Hopefully.  Now that the samples are up on the wall, neither of us are sure we like them.  I'm about at the point to just use them anyway, who cares if the ceiling color slightly resembles the color of poop, I JUST WANT TO BE DONE WITH THE PAINTING.)
• Cleaned the first floor thoroughly: I'm talking washed the floors, dusted, the whole shebang.  I even sewed up the seam that was coming undone on one of the throw pillowcases (thanks, Ikea, for the excellent craftsmanship!).  Why do I feel the need to take pictures of the house after I've cleaned really well?   I always want to preserve the memories of cleanliness and order for posterity. 
• Saw I Am Legend and National Treasure: Book of Secrets.  My Christmas gift to Joel: I agreed to do a "double feature".   We packed snacks and watched them back to back.  Without paying for the second one.  I usually resist doing this, not because I feel bad about ripping off the movie theater, but because I don't like to waste a whole weekend day in the movies.  But since this was a special 4-day weekend and there were actually two movies that I wanted to see playing, I consented.  It was fun.   I give both  movies a solid B+.
• Looked through recipe books and prepared a veritable Christmas Feast For Two (actually, it was more like a Feast for eleven or twelve.  We'll be eating delicious leftovers for awhile, and I mean that in the best way possible).
• Took a walk on Christmas day through the quiet, peaceful neighborhood.
• Saw the best Christmas window display EVER.
• Opened gifts on Christmas morning in our pajamas.  Even though we didn't get gifts for each other this year (hello, vacation), we did have stockings.  Three, to be exact.  One for Joel, one for me, and one for the cats.  The cats got a load of Christmas toys because their mommy is a crazy person who can't resist buying more toy mice that will invariably end up in the toy graveyard under the oven because these mice are different!  They're red and green and adorable!  (That particular mouse piqued Old Man Max's interest and is no longer with us.  RIP, Christmas mouse.  Sorry that Max ripped your intestines out).  Joel cheated and sneakily bought me several thoughtful stocking stuffers, including a yoga magazine and a box of my beloved Moose Munch.  I got him nothing because we said no presents! I am a bad person.
• I also made out with some good, low-key loot when we went to visit my family two weeks ago.   I got a Starbucks gift card, some adorable note cards (the supply of which I've already depleted considerably), and some supplies for our upcoming trip to Spain -- travel books and Airborne, since my mom is convinced that all my business travel is the root cause of my many colds this year (I'm pretty sure she's right; I got sick approximately once a decade before I started traveling for work).   I also got myself several threadless t-shirts, which I love.  Thanks, me!  You're the best!

So tell me, did you get anything good?  Besides the warmth in your heart that comes from celebrating a joyous holiday, of course.

Just pretend that you're reading this yesterday.

I fully intended to wish all of you internet people a very merry Christmas yesterday, but Santa didn't deliver the high-speed internet I asked for.  WTF, Santa?

(Video of Max patiently posing as Santa here)

I tried uploading some pictures over the dial-up, hoping that they'd actually appear thanks to some sort of Christmas miracle, but no such luck.  So just pretend that you're reading this yesterday.  Merry Christmas!

We spent yesterday cooking a delicious meal of pot roast, stuffing, roasted potatoes, sauteed spinach and dinner rolls.  And, of course, taking the requisite Christmas-morning-in-pajamas pictures.  I have no explanation for why Henry is acting like he is incapable of supporting the weight of his own head in this video; whenever put the antlers-hat on him he goes all limp.  It's almost like he doesn't like wearing them or something.

Henry the half-dead reindeer from Pink Herring on Vimeo.

But trust me, he is wishing you a very happy holiday. 

Holiday paparazzi

I don't want to get all grinchy on everyone this close to the actual holiday, but I am about to lose my shit.

Yesterday we had an office holiday party at a restaurant.  The office closed at 2pm and we all went to a nice Italian place.  Except, see, this was the Office Holiday Party #4, and to tell you the truth, I am all partied out.  The food was pretty bad.  I've made better eggplant parm myself.  The service was awful.  There were thirteen Christmas sweaters in attendance, and I'm not even including just plain red sweaters in that count.  Thirteen sweaters with sequined snowmen and three dimensional poinsettias.    

Then, this morning, my coworker (who told me earlier in the month that she was going to "hug the grinch out of me") shows up to the office with her camera.  To take everyone's picture.   When asked what the purpose of these pictures might be, she replied "it's just for me, don't you worry.  Just for me to have some photos of my coworkers for the holiday season".  Well, that really clears things up.  Of course, everyone wants photos of PEOPLE THEY SEE EVERY DAMN DAY. 

I am considering telling her that I am 1/32 Native American, and that it is therefore against my religion to have my soul captured on film.   That's true, actually, the 1/32 Native American part.  My mom wanted me to put it on college applications so I could play the minority card, except we don't know which tribe (tribe?  I am blocking the correct word here, and that's a shame because I have two Louise Erdrich books at home) we "belong to", so I thought it best to just check "white" and be done with it.   I guess I should hide all the pictures on my desk to make this excuse more plausible.

Or I guess I could just tell the truth: IT'S TOO DAMN EARLY FOR CAMERAS.  GO AWAY.

I think I need the four-day holiday weekend I have coming a little more than I realized. 

And now, on to more pleasant topics

Joel and I spent the weekend with my family in New Jersey, celebrating Christmas. I realize that Christmas is traditionally held on December 25th, but my baby brother packed up his car and started driving out to Utah on Sunday, so we decided to move Christmas up by a week and a half.  Jesus said he didn't mind. Despite the sleet and snow coming down on Sunday, Michael departed around 2pm and made it to Cleveland around 10pm. He is probably somewhere in the Chicago vicinity at this moment. He starts work at Snowbird on Thursday!   Let's all give my baby brother a hand for not inheriting the worry-wart gene and allowing his big sister to live vicariously through him while he does awesome things.

While Michael was driving west on Route 80, Joel and I were headed south on the NJ Turnpike with 100 pounds of cat litter in the back of Joel's truck. Navigating a cart filled with four 25-lb bags of cat litter to the checkout was probably the truest Crazy Cat Lady experience that I've had thus far, but we needed something to weigh the back of the truck down to provide optimal four-wheel snow driving conditions, and why shouldn't it be something we needed anyway? Unfortunately, what was billed as bona-fide Wintry Mix in New Jersey was nothing but a little bit of wind in Baltimore, so those last two bags were probably overkill.  But hey, I like to play it safe.  The way there were playing this storm up on the news, I was sure we'd have at least a foot of snow and a delayed opening this morning.  Is it bad that I check the forecast compulsively in the winter, and that when I see Wintry Mix, I get all happy inside? Wintry Mix is the key to work closings in Maryland. Come to mama, sleet/snow/rain!

In any case, I highly recommend having Christmas early. I think we should start doing this every year. We had a lovely weekend, there was no traffic despite the many inches of snow and freezing rain that fell, and now we are free to relax and hole up at home to enjoy two four-day weekends in a row. My plans include painting the bedroom, watching a lot of TV, and vacation planning. On somewhat of a whim, Joel and I booked a trip to Barcelona on Friday. We'll be going for a week in January. I am beyond excited.  Audrey, the internet's resident expert on all things Barcelona has already provided me with innumerable suggestions (thanks, Audrey!) and we have several books to peruse, but any suggestions ya'll have for Things Not To Be Missed are welcome. This is probably all I'll be talking about for the next month. Sorry.

Oh, and I finally joined Flickr.  I uploaded some random pictures.  Now what?

New Year's resolution #1: Make more friends.

The one thing that I unabashedly love about the holiday season is holiday cards.  I love to write things longhand.  With a pen.  I love cute paper products.  I love addressing the envelopes and I love picking out fun holiday stamps at the post office.   I love getting holiday cards too, but not half as much I as enjoy writing and sending them.  It's a compulsion, and I love it.

I know that many people think of Writing Christmas Cards as just another item on the never-ending holiday to-do list.  I am not one of those people.  If I know you, you are getting a holiday card from me.  Please do not feel obligated to send me one in return if that's not your bag, baby.  Just send me your address so I can assault you with my mailz.

I found some supercute, super CHEAP cards at Walmart this weekend ($3 for 20 cards!) (I know that this should not be such a shock, but I seriously never go to Walmart.  Especially not around Christmas time.  The crowds, they scare me).  So now here's my problem.  I don't know enough people to send twenty cards to.   So would any of you lovely internet peoples like a (purple) card?   Please?

If you all say no, Holiday Santa Max will have a bone to pick with you.

moar funny pictures

Ah, ICHC.  You will never get old.

Thy leaves are so EXPENSIVE

Execution of an innocent tree from Pink Herring on Vimeo.

So, we got a Christmas tree.   Joel was adamant that, if we did indeed get a tree, it must: 1. Be a real tree, and 2. Be cut down by us. Joel is a bit of a Christmas tree snob, as it turns out, and he looked at the people who were dragging out a huge tree as we walked in with pity in his eyes.  "I don't know why people get White Pines," he said.  "They're not even Christmas trees."

"It looks like a Christmas tree to me... and it has floppy needles, so you don't get stabbed.  Seems pretty smart if you ask m--"

"No.  That's not a Christmas tree."

Ohhhhkay.

So apparently, according to experts, the only true Christmas tree is a Douglas fir.  They all look like pine trees to me, but what do I know?   I'm just the holiday grinch from New Jersey.

We wandered around the "farm" for awhile, looking at the smaller trees.  I really wanted to get the most pathetic-looking tree we could find, because wouldn't that be funny?  Plus, I felt bad for those poor Charlie Brown trees that no one wanted.  Who would give them a home?  Maybe I can sneak back at night and put a few decorations on them.  Maybe I can just put them in my purse and take them home and adopt them.

Anyway, NO.  Joel was not having any of that.  After not too long, we settled on a healthy looking little tree that passed all of Joel's inspections (although he did note that it had some dead needles toward the center, hmmm, that's not a good sign).  Joel sawed it down, which took far less time than I thought it would -- for some reason I thought "chopping down a tree" would be a little more ceremonious than a few swipes with our handsaw -- and we dragged our prize up to the gate to pay.

So, there were no prices posted at this Christmas tree farm.  I guess that should have set off warning bells in my cynical brain, but I sort of figured that it was a Christmas tree farm and so in the spirit of Christmas everyone had to be kind and fair and love one another.  I wasn't really paying attention to the practical aspects of Christmas tree procurement.   Plus, Joel had told me that this place had some free-roaming, real live reindeer, and I wanted to pet them, okay?  (Turns out that was a different place, a different place THAT WE WILL BE GOING TO NEXT YEAR). 

We got up to the gate with our tiny little tree, and the lady said -- and I quote: "Oh, I hate to do this to you sweetie.  But that tree is going to cost you seventy-five dollars."

EXCUSE ME????

"That's a Douglas fir", she continued (I KNEW THAT! DOUGLAS FIRS ARE THE ONLY REAL CHRISTMAS TREES! I WAS PAYING ATTENTION!) "and Douglas firs start at $75.  I really hate to charge you that, but there's nothing I can do."

Joel and I were both dumbfounded, but since we had already cut the tree down, there wasn't really anything we could do.  Since we certainly did not have $75 in cash on us, I had to write the lady a check.  Something about the fact that she had me make the check out to her, and that she shoved a pen in my face before I could even say "no thanks, I have a pen in my bag" makes me think that she could have, in fact, done something about the outrageous price tag.   

Just in case you missed it, THE TREE COST SEVENTY FIVE DOLLARS.

We put the tree in the trunk of my Jetta (which just felt sort of wrong, but I didn't think Joel would go for buckling it into the passenger seat while he rode in the back), and drove to the mall so I could check out the Ann Taylor Loft sales.  They were playing a particularly irritating Christmas song, and an ATL employee looked me dead in the eye while I was browsing the shoes and said "I am going to kill myself before Christmas if I have to listen to this song one more time."  AMEN.  That is just one more reason why I love ATL with all my heart.

On our way home from the mall, we stopped at Walmart to get a replacement bulb for my car, because surprise of surprises, I have ANOTHER taillight out.   As we stood with the trunk open trying to install the new bulb, a little girl walked by with her parents.  She pointed at our trunk and exclaimed "THAT'S A REALLY SMALL TREE!"

I wanted to yell after her, DON'T TALK ABOUT MY SEVENTY FIVE DOLLAR TREE LIKE THAT!, but I just burst out laughing.  Yes, yes it is.  It's a very small tree.

But it's our tree.  And no one talks smack about our tree.

Thy leaves are so unchanging

Ah, Christmas trees.  Who doesn't love a Christmas tree, right?

Um...  me.

I think that people are supposed to have joyous memories of sitting around the Christmas tree, inhaling the deep pine scent, sipping hot apple cider  and singing carols while simultaneously baking cookies.  or something.

My Christmas tree memories are more like this:  The calendar flips to December.  Christmas decorations start going up around the neighborhood.  My mom decides it's time to put up the tree and tells us to go up in the attic and bring down the tree. 

Dude, the attic is cold.  The stairs are steep.  Plus, there are ghosts up there.   You think I'm joking, but THE GHOSTS ARE REAL.   As real as the monsters in the basement, anyway.

The tree box is heavy and requires quite a bit of maneuvering to bring down.  And then we have to set it up.  More work.  Sigh.

THEN, we have to go get the decorations down from the attic and put every single one on the tree.  I'm pretty sure this constitutes more work. 

And then a few weeks later, we had to do the whole process in reverse and put everything back up in the attic!  Which is still cold and full of ghosts! MORE WORK.  SIGH.

I really never got the whole point of having a Christmas tree.  We had a whole row of pine trees outside in the yard, and I would have been plenty happy to slap a bow on the trunk of one of them and call it The Christmas Tree, thus saving ourselves a load of work.  I understand some people find sentimental value in the temporary presence of a tree in the house during December.   I am not one of those people, as I am lazy and have a heart made from coal.  But you know who is one of those people?  My boyfriend.

It kills Joel a little bit every year that we do not have a tree.  I have many items on the CONS OF GETTING A CHRISTMAS TREE list, which I pull out every year: 

1. There is no point.
2. We have cats.
3. Our cats like to destroy things.
4. We already have a Christmas tree.  Six of them.
5. I don't feel like cleaning up the needles.
6. If we get a fake tree, where is it going to go for the rest of the year? 
7. Don't even say in the basement  unless you are going to be the one putting it down there.  And the one who brings it up next year.  And the one checking for ghosts. And then cleaning the kitchen floor.  Have I mentioned our basement is partial and the floor is made of dirt? 
8. We have like three decorations to put on this tree, and I'm not even sure where they are. 
9. Where is this tree going to go, anyway? 
10. Have I mentioned there is no point? 
11. And the cats?  Who are probably swinging from the branches of the poor hibicus tree at this very moment?

The PROS OF GETTING A CHRISTMAS TREE list goes something like this:

1. It's just not Christmas without a tree.

Lord help me, I think we are getting a tree this year. 

A belated Thanksgiving post

Thanksgiving kicks ass.  Thanksgiving means two extra days off from work, spending time with your family and friends, and, of course, great food.  It's that last part that used to kick my anxiety into overdrive when anorexia ruled  my life.  I am incredibly thankful that I am able to enjoy Thanksgiving for what it is, instead of dreading it and spending all my time trying to figure out how I can make it through the weekend without anyone noticing that I'm not eating.

The holidays are a stressful time for many people.  There's the gift-buying, the travel, the company, and the relatives.  For people with an eating disorder, this is all compounded by the abundance of food and the pressure to eat.   Food messages are everywhere during the holidays.  Starbucks is selling pumpkin pie in a cup.  Stores windows are graced by gingerbread house displays.  People everywhere are talking about what they're going to cook and eat.  And on January 2nd, the weight loss industry will spring into overdrive.  It's hard for everyone, but it's murder for someone with an eating disorder.   

I am so very thankful to have left that behind me.   My heart goes out to the many, many people who are suffering with anorexia, bulimia, compulsive overeating, or any combination of that trifecta this year.

I am also thankful that my family shares my views on the holidays: they should be fun, not stressful.

I am thankful that there was virtually no traffic on I-95 this weekend.

I am thankful that after perusing all the Black Friday ads, Joel decreed that we did not need to go Black Friday shopping this year.

I am thankful that at least Joel's apple pie turned out well.  (Mine was a little... crispy.   I cannot read instructions.   "Wrap crust in foil halfway through baking time" does not equal "wrap crust in foil after pie is baked", apparently.)

I am thankful that the pie with blackened edges still tastes fine.

I am thankful that I am able to enjoy it.

And I am thankful to you, dear internet friends, for indulging my Thanksgiving post four full days after Turkey Day.   I hope you all had a wonderful holiday (and for the non-Americans out there, I hope you had a lovely weekend)!

Just in time for Black Friday

It's that time of the year again.  The time when the whole world goes insane.

I don't do holiday shopping.  I can't.  I can shop with the best of them when I'm in the mood.  I can spend hours perusing the grocery store!  And don't even get me started on the time warp that is Home Depot.  Or Petco.   I can kill an afternoon looking at the different types of cat food.  But going near a mall any time after October 31st is just not in the cards for me.

I hate crowds.  I hate crazed shoppers.  And I hate what the holiday season does to people.

Case in point:  Yesterday I decided that my task for the day would be to leave the house, ending my weekend-long quarantine.  I dropped Joel off at his gym and set out to hit the Home Depot and Barnes and Noble.   Home Depot was bursting at the seams with holiday spirit, but since I got what I needed (six Alberta spruces, two sets of lights and a partridge in a pear tree and a refill canister of propane) with absolutely no hassle -- not even from the automatic propane cage system! -- I have no complaint to register with the home improvement overlords.  Barnes and Noble, however, has apparently been hit early by the spirit of Christmas Stress.

I had a 20% off coupon and I was really only looking for one book.  The last time I used a single item coupon, they were kind (or absent-minded) enough to apply the discount to my entire purchase, so I figured why not try my luck again?  I'll just pick up a few more books I've been meaning to read, and if they don't give me 20% off, well then shucks.  I guess I'll just have two more books to read. 

The line to checkout was long and slow-moving.  People were irritated.  Eye-rolling, sighing, making friends with strangers in the line to complain about how ridiculous this is, you'd think with it being the holidays they'd hire some more help, goodness, don't they know anything about retail? 

Then another woman stormed over and marched right up to the counter.  Before anyone could politely remind her that THERE'S A LINE HERE LADY, DON'T BE TRYIN' TO CUT (trust me, they were all thinking it) she yelled at the cashier "IF NO ONE IS GOING TO ANSWER THAT PHONE, JUST PICK IT UP AND HANG IT UP FOR CHRISTSAKE!  ITS DRIVING EVERYONE IN THE STORE CRAZY"

And everyone looked at each other and said "Wha??"  And then, listening very closely, we could hear it.  There was a phone ringing, gently.  Almost inaudibly.  And I guess that is all it takes to make people snap around this time of year.   When the irate woman came over to stand in the line, she loudly grumbled about how she was going to report them [to the phone police?] because these people need to change a few things around here and the first is ATTITUDE.

People, it is not even Thanksgiving.  It is too early for this level of stress to exist.

This is why I don't holiday shop.  I just don't see the point.  (And thankfully, my family and friends agree -- or at least pretend to agree to indulge me).  Everyone gets stressed out running around spending money, trying to find the perfect gift for everyone they know.  I enjoy giving gifts as much as the next person, but I HATE being pressured to find a gift for everyone at the same time.  When everyone else in the world is also out shopping.  And in grumpy moods. 

Back in high school, my friends and I decided to declare a gift-giving truce one year, and in lieu of presents we'd go into New York one day in December and go out for dinner.  It morphed into a yearly tradition that lasted through college, and it was so much fun every year.  Sadly, the tradition is now dead since several parents have moved and many of us don't come back to New Jersey for Christmas, but still.  It was FAR better than exchanging picture frames and Body Shop gift baskets.  My brothers and I soon subscribed to the same gift moratorium philosophy with each other.  And then we extended it to birthdays, because really?  Do I want my little brother stressing over what to get me for my twenty-seventh birthday?  (The answer is no, I don't.)  Instead, we decided that a card and a phone call are more than sufficient sibling gifts.   Joel and I don't do Christmas gifts for each other, either.  We do usually do birthday gifts, and since his birthday is the first week of December and mine is the first week of January, THAT IS PLENTY.  I don't need to be coming up with TWO gifts for him in one month.  There are only so many DVD box sets in the world.

And that leaves the office.  My office is officially out of control with Ye Ole Holiday Spirit.  So I had to go ahead and opt out of that nonsense too. 

So my holiday shopping list is 1. Mom, 2. Daddy.  My mom will give us several ideas as to what she would like (mom?  ideas?), as she does every year, and my brothers will buy a round of golf for my dad and that will be that.  Done. 

Honestly, I don't know how people handle the holidays any other way.  I love gift-giving.  I love seeing something that I know someone would love and buying it for them.  Holiday shopping ruins that for me, because I feel like I either need to save it until Christmas (that's no fun, I'm impatient!) or not get it because I'll just have to get them a Christmas gift too (I'm not made of money!).   Just thinking about it stresses me out.  And because of this, I've been labeled as The Holiday Grinch around the office. 

And you know what?  Me and my six Alberta Spruces are OK with that.

Getting into the spirit

I feel that there may be misconceptions floating around; rumors being spread.  People may be thinking that I am a pure and evil grinch.  This is just untrue.

See for yourself.  Me and my two brothers can tear it up with the best of 'em.

Also, I'd like everyone to know that this weekend, despite being deathly ill, I managed to purchase not just one measly Christmas tree, but SIX!  So what if they're all going to live in the planter box outside of our house?  They're still trees of the evergreen variety.  And I even got lights to put on them.   If that's not a freaking Christmas tree, I don't know what is.

Holiday shopping, however, is still on my No Fly list.