I Give You Permission to Gloat

The following reading list appeared in my newspaper recently. I thought to myself, "Oh, goody! I would love to have a comprehensive list of great reading material prescribed by an honors program professor, and, just my luck, that is who happened to write this very list I am holding in my hands! I am stoked!" Yes, that is truly what I thought to myself. Word for word. Every word. Verbatim.

So then I got to the part of the article that listed the books. Oh. The books. Right.

Hey? Just out of curiosity, how many of you intellectual types out there have read "The Essential Eusebius" by Eusebius? Perhaps you've perused "Thus Spake Zarathustra" by Nietzsche? Or this long-time fave, "Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans" by Plutarch? No reason. Just wonderin'.

Click on the list for a closer look to see if you every right to gloat.

Or not.

I received this treasure-trove from Dave as a sweet little Christmas gift a couple of years ago. Do you think this is a subtle commentary by Dave on me and my intellectual prowess? (Frankly, he is pretty spot-on.)

Just try topping Puff and Spot and Dick and Jane, Messrs. Virgil, Sophocles and Aeschylus. It's tough to beat near genius.

¡Ho, Ho, Ho! ¡Feliz Navidad!

Papa' Noel came to our house on January 7th via a Christmas package from Elder Sean! Just check out the loot we received:

Ashley and Jordan are modeling their authentic Honduran bags which are muy maravilloso for carrying things like phones, netbooks, keys, wallets, a ham on rye . . .

Here Ashley and Jordan pose for HondurasVogue Magazine.

I adore my tortilla press, as well as my

"Jorges Foreman Grill" on which to

burn fry the tortillas. Fry the tortillas! Me burn something?

Ahhh, just the thing for Christian aka Gilligan.

His buddy, the Skipper, already has designs on taking it over--

can't you just read the envy in his face?

Don't mess with this guy--he's packin' heat.

(See photo below of Sean modeling Dave's heat.)

Sean said he would have to hand-deliver

this sweet little machete to Dave; in the meantime it looks like

Elder Sagers is standing just a little taller and a little bolder for some reason . . .

¡Gran compras! ¡Gracias muy, tanto Santa Sean!

¡Adoro ese chico!

Today's Helpful Hint: A smoke alarm serves remarkably well as a dinner bell.

What? I Can't Hear a Thing . . . Wha . . . ?

If a certain event occurs more than four or five years in a row, does that qualify it as a bona fide tradition in the official and government-sanctioned "Traditions to be Kept Forever and Ever and Ever and Ever Handbook?" Cuz, hoo boy, do I have a tradition that hopefully never grows stale. I introduce to you the annual:

Dee & Dave's New Year's Day

Shindig and Wingding

2010 Edition

So here's the lowdown on the Shindig and Wingding. A whole lot of wild and crazy people gather at my house on New Year's Day for a whole lot of wild and crazy food and a whole lot of wild and crazy partying. (This whole wild and crazy party serves as a get together for Dave's side of the fam; I kind of twist my sister's and my mom's arms to come join in the hooha.) The most anticipated part of the Wingding is the white elephant gift exchange. It never fails to dissolve into a down and dirty brawl between the two grandmas over some snively little gift they each wanted. JUST KIDDING!!! Grandma Pauline? Grandma Bea? Just kidding, dears. (Uh oh. What did I just do?)

One particular gift keeps coming back year after year to haunt our party, sort of like "Bob" in "What About Bob?" It just never goes away. After the first year, it started turning up with a $5 bill attached in an effort by its current owner to just "GET THE THING AWAY FROM ME!" Truth be told, this was a gift given to me at a Girls Night Out where each girlfriend was to bring a tasteful $20 holiday-themed gift. Whoa.

Interestingly, this year several gifts were brought to our Wingding which are rather disturbing. Truly. I have a feeling we'll be seeing some of these gifts rearing their ugly heads at future Wingdings. Beware all! At this rate, the goal of the white elephant gift exchange will switch from trying to snag something quasi-decent to trying with all one's might to avoid being saddled with a parasite, as it were.

So now, let's see if you can spot the object of (non)desire.

BINGO!

What you can't see because of the $5 bribe largesse, is that the face of one of the wisemen is actually a ghastly green color in what I can only assume was the manufacturer's attempt at racial diversity. But why green? I know it seems sacrilegious to shun something depicting this holiest of events in our world's history, but I know I'm not the only one. After one of our Shindings a couple of years back, I had to chase the rightful owner out to her car and basically huck the thing into her backseat as she tore away. I think I saw her beating on her steering wheel sobbing, "Why? Why me? Why?"

Ever tried opening a many-times

wrapped candy bar wearing oven mitts?

The over-18 crowd got pretty rambunctious and unruly.

The under-18 crowd actually played by the rules.

The Carol of the Bells it ain't, but its not too shabby for non-union musicians. Have a listen:

AND NOW WHAT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!

Right here on our stage, for all you youngsters

out there, we have a really big shoe! . . . The Beatles!!!

Er, no. I mean, The Deafeners!

I just dare ya to watch this to the bitter end. I double-dog dare ya. Just when you think the torture is finally over . . . not!!!

I hear Miracle Ear makes a really great product.

You may want to check into it.

Coming soon: Visions of Shindig and Wingdings Past

Splish Splash He Was Takin' a Bath!

As a passel of us gathered at Ashley and Jordan's one evening, the highlight of the night for most of our crowd was watching "A Night at the Opera" with the Marx brethren. (No comment. I mean, there just really is no accounting for taste, is there. So, no comment. I will admit that the Marx Brothers are better than The Three Stooges, which isn't saying much. But no comment from me. Except! to say that I just don't get it. Enough said. No comment. Alright, alright! It was pretty funny when Groucho was hawking peanuts to the audience during "Il Travatore." Yeah, that was pretty funny. And that part with the four beds? That was pretty funny. And when Groucho says, 'How would you like to feel like she looks?' That was pretty funny. But, no comment. I'm not going to say anything about it being a "unique" *cough-unsophisticated-cough*kind of humor . Don't want to hurt anyone's Dave's feelings. So I'm not going to say one single word about it.)

But where was I? Oh! So, my favorite highlight of the evening (which happened to be Kimball's first birthday!) came prior to the movie as I watched baby Kimball receive the royal treatment in his own secluded and well-appointed spa get-away. His extremely qualified hair stylist decided to go with The Pointy Look ala Dr. Suess. It's all the rage don't you know. Theodore Geisel would be so proud. I'm quite sure that Kimball isn't going to let all of this attention to his hair go to his head, but he is a trendsetter, that one. And we can all say we knew him when.

"If you never did, you should. These things are fun, and fun is good."--Dr. Seuss

Hakuna Masada

"Hakuna matata" means something akin to no worries for the rest of your life, assuming I've been sitting up and paying attention during my Disney movie viewing sessions. And believe you me, there have been pu-lenty of those Disney movie sessions over the years. Sometimes the kids would even sit in on them with me . . . .

Well, if we follow my warped sense of logic (and just humor me here, k?), "hakuna masada" would bear an almost identical meaning to "hakuna matada." At least for Christian. (I don't want to clank you over the head, but did you notice that I said "masada" with a bit of a lispy ess in the middle? Try it. It's fun. Say it with me--masssssssada. Fun, no?) Okay, so here is my logic: After mucking around in a mess of paper mache' paste and throwing sand here and there, and endandering his own life with small power tools, Christian emerged as the 2009 Architect and Builder of the Year as he presented his Masada replication for all the world to see and admire, including Mr. Atwood, Christian's 4th period Ancient History teacher. Ooohs and aaaaahhhs were flying with Christian receiving 90 points for the project. Uh, out of a possible 50. Huh. Want more? This was an extra credit* project, so it is merely icing on the charmed cakes of Christian's life. No worries for the rest of his life--or at least 4th period Ancient History with good ol' Mr. Atwood. Christian's work here is done, thank you very much. (Now if only I was the type of gal to pay for grades. But, alas, nope.)

Drat. Now I've got Nathan Lane's voice stuck in my heading singing "Hakuna Matada" over and over and over and over and over . . . . Make it stop! For the love of pete, make it stop. Waaahh.

*Family policy dictates that if extra credit is offered, extra credit is done. Yeah, man.

Up on the Housetop!

Oh, Santa was good to us this year. Just between you and me, I think it was the "nog" in his eggnog that made him feel so benevolent and generous.

Aren't we all so glad that we shopped our little brains out selecting just the right things for each person only to find that we merely needed to pony up a big ol' plastic sack stuffed to the gills with bright, shiny paper and a wad o' ribbon in order to make our loved ones as happy as clams? All of you parents out there are now nodding your heads, muttering "Eeyup. Been there done that." I make my case with Exhibit "A":

And a happy new year!