I'm being stalked....

....by Adam Lambert.

You read correctly. I'm being audio stalked by this guy:

Do you know how frightening this is? Every time I turn on the car...I hear that  "What do you want from me?" song. Dear god..it's like it's on auto repeat--just for me.

NO MORE. I'm am done with your serenading me, sir. Done, I tell you--done!

It doesn't matter what time of day. It doesn't matter what station (I'm a notorious flipper...I have no station loyalty whatsoever.). It doesn't matter what I'm doing. Every time I turn on the radio..I hear Adam Lambert.

So the real question is this--what the hell do you want from me Adam Lambert? Huh? Huh? Seriously..you are driving me freaking nuts.

I don't know what I did to deserve this--but whatever it is--I'm sorry. Please, please, please...just make it stop!

Please?

I think I've finally lost it...

Why is that you ask?

Because I'm in my kitchen....singing along with Bing Crosby like my life depends on it.

And if you know my singing voice, right now you are counting your blessings that you are far, far away!

(Side note: Oh...the weather outside is frightful....and I got sent home from my part time job...thank god! Because I don't think I would have made it up the hill later tonight. And when I peeked out the window just now, the car is already completely covered in snow. I am SO not looking forward to the drive to work tomorrow.)

So. I've been home for about an hour and I feel quite accomplished.

I've made rocky road bark, peppermint bark, my peanut butter fudge is divided up---and some is coated in chocolate--coconut rum balls are sitting pretty in a new coating of powdered sugar, and now I'm starting cookies.

Black Walnut cookies---yummmm.

I am usually quite the Christmas grump, waiting to the last minute possible to do everything and bitching about it the whole time--but this year, I don't know what the deal is. I'm not in a super grouchy mood, I'm relatively happy (which after last year is a GREAT improvement) and not actually dreading the upcoming holidays. However, among other things, I do absolutely miss a certain little fuzz ball who loved Christmas trees, which is why I've moved Jeter to the dining room. Call me morbid, but somehow, I think he appreciates being near the tree. Maybe that's why I'm in such a good mood?? A little kitty karma is rubbing off on me?

Perhaps.

I've always felt I've needed someone looking after me--maybe now I've got it. (It's a nice thought, actually. So if you think I'm an idiot--just keep it to yourself. I pretty much think I'm an idiot most of the time, so I don't need any help from the peanut gallery.)

I have not, however, tried wrapping presents. Last year I had to trap the two of them in the bedroom until I was done. Wrapping paper, if you didn't know, is even more like catnip to cats than catnip. Not. Joking. And since Yogi is a little bit more special than most boys, I'm going to have my hands full. Good thing he's freaking adorable....

So I'm going to enjoy my good mood, and my good fortune of not having to work tonight, by baking. Lots and lots of baking.

Ah...being in the kitchen. It's like therapy..but cheaper.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Hey morons! It's called English, so learn to use it--PROPERLY.

There are somethings that just grate on my nerves.

And people who treat the English Language like a red headed step child? Ugh. They are on my list.
And sadly,..most people treat it way worse than that.

And today--I just can't take it anymore. I'm done with people too stupid to take the time to learn to use the language properly. It doesn't mean you are uppity--it means you have some pride and aren't a lazy asshole. Me personally? Well, I just don't want anyone to think I'm stupid.

Spellcheck people. Spellcheck can be your best friend. That said, I do excuse typos from people that I know have an IQ above the average bear--and spellcheck doesn't catch everything. That said, since spellcheck doesn't catch everything, you actually have to be aware of your grammar, too. If you graduated from High School you should be fully aware of the following items (Look! I'm even nice enough to create a guide for you!):

No and Know
No is the answer to a question.

Example: "Did you see that pimp smack the crap out of that midget hooker?!?"

"No! Damn--how did I miss that?"

Know is having knowledge (hint--see how the both start with KN?)

Example: "Well, boo. I know how much you love streetwalking midgets."

Sit vs Set (This is like nails down a chalk board to my brain. Figure. It. Out. NOW!)

Sitting is something you do. "Sit down!"

You set an inanimate object in it's place. You know--when you set the table?

There vs. Their

There is in regards to a place. (Oh wait..if you don't know the difference between these two, how am I supposed to hope you know what in the hell 'in regards' means?)

Example: "How do we get there from here?"

Their is a possessive pronoun.

I'm going to let that sink in for a moment.....I know, I know--it hurts.

Example: "Is this their Valtrex? I would hate for Paris and Nicky Hilton to have left it behind..that would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

Now. I know I'm not perfect, but I know bad language when I see it. And I don't mean swearing and the like. And yes, this is a short list. Trust me, if I had time--I could write a lot more than this.

So please, for my sanity--take heed and share your new found knowledge with your buddies.

It will make me a happy girl, indeed!

People watching...of the first order!

So tonight Carm and I went to see one of my favorite bands...(and vowed to be in New Orleans come Mardi Gras...we shall see if that works).

And were subjected to the normal number of couples groping and feeling all over each other (BARF)..but then...then there was something special.

Incest.

Yes. You read that right. Incest. With a reindeer sweater and a pearl barrette (which actually was a friend of the offender...but still. A reindeer sweater? ACK!)

Let me just say--you can certainly love your children..but you should NOT love your children.

There was this woman who, it seemed, could not keep her hands off anyone. Her son, her son's girlfriend, her husband, her friend, her friend's husband.

All of us in the general vicinity were disturbed by this woman in the high waisted jeans, bad perm, and velvet leotard.

Let that just sink in for a second. Velvet. Leotard.

Dear lord..it's like she wanted us all to be uncomfortable as possible!

But then Better than Ezra started and I could have cared less about the crazy woman and her family "dynamic".

It was, once again, a kick ass show...and that, and the Sun King Cream Ale and the good company (of which I could make a total ass of myself screaming out the lyrics to Laid...and not be judged) are all that mattered.

So thank you BTE for another amazing stop in Naptown. I will see you again and again...for as long as you are on the road busting your hump.

And hope there isn't any more "Mom Love" at the next show. I think I may have been scarred for life.

Gee thanks..as if I'm not fucked up enough already!