Merry Christmas and all that stuff....

Our Christmas weekend has been fairly eventful thanks to a wedding on Saturday night. Early in the evening I realized that I was going to be our designated driver. My husband started pounding Manhattans like they were going out of style. He attempted to dip one of the bridesmaids. At least she landed on top of him when they hit the ground. He doesn't get that sloshed too often so I don't mind having to pour him into bed and stuff Advil down his throat. Lord knows he's taken care of me when the tables have been turned. It was nice to have something like a wedding to break up the holidays. Took my mind off my unfinished shopping and lack of gift giving ideas.

I started thinking about how much cooler Christmas was when I was younger. People say it's sort of fun again once you have kids. My cousin's wife came to dinner tonight and said to me, "don't do it". I knew exactly what she was talking about. She probably had spent all day trying to get kids, who were all cracked out on Christmas cookies and soda, into nice clothes to shuttle them from house to house visiting family. Watching kids around Santa reminds you a bit of watching junkies. The crazed eyes and jerky movements, they could be easily confused with meth heads.

You try to recall that feeling you had. I remember, but it's impossible to recreate those feelings again.

We watched a Christmas Story about 10,592 times. That movie never gets old. "What does mommy's little piggy do?" Then there's the onslaught of claymation. That stuff is cool. You knew it was getting close to presents from the fat man when the Rudolph claymation came on.

I was always totally psyched by all the Christmas decorations in the house. In my 6 year old brain it was a winter wonderland. I used to love driving around looking at all the houses with lights. (This was pre-lazy man decorating. You couldn't just plug in a giant snow globe and call your house decorated. It involved ladders and lights and at least a few close brushes with death to make your house look good.)

That feeling you would get on Christmas eve, there's nothing like it - all you wanted to do was fall asleep so you could wake up but you were so hopped up on Christmas cookies and soda that falling asleep seemed impossible. The best was sneaking downstairs in the morning to check out the tree just to make sure you actually got gifts. The best gift ever was the Barbie Dream House. It was fully assembled under the tree that morning, I don't think I was ever so excited.

Then there was the post present opening delirium. You couldn't even decide what to play with first. So we would just sit there and organize the loot in a futile attempt to make sense of the mess.

When I got older it was a nice time to see all my friends. When we were in college we would all meet on Christmas eve at my friend's house to help her mom wrap presents. She would bribe us with bottles of champagne and we would hang out for hours.

These days there doesn't seem to be much to say about the holidays. They're a bit of a pain in the rear. Sure it's nice to see friends and family. It's great to have a week off work. But shopping for gifts is tough when everyone in our family is at the point where no one needs anything. I boycotted shopping at the mall a few years ago after an unfortunate incident over a parking space. I took my business online. This has been pretty successful but I got lazy this year and waited too long. Perhaps that's why I'm such a Grinch this year, I spent time in the mall yesterday. It was horrifying. This year my sister and I (and respective spouses) decided that we weren't going to exchange gifts but instead come up with an activity the four of us could do together. The only catch, it has to be something that costs less than $30 per person. Sure, there are plenty of things you can do for $30 bucks but there is some creative competition here so you can't just get movie tickets and call it a day. I won't talk about our gift yet on the off chance that they read this before tomorrow morning.

My mother, the church lady, would argue that Christmas is about celebrating the birth of our Lord, but from where I stand it seems more about eating cookies and tolerating your neighbor's bad taste in lawn ornamentation. This is why I'm a huge fan of Thanksgiving. It's a no-strings-attached holiday - eat some turkey, hang out, fall asleep, life is good. Christmas seems too high stress with little reward. Perhaps that will be my excuse to have a few kids, so I can enjoy the fun Christmas stuff again. Do you think they'll be damaged goods when they realize I gave birth so I could watch Charlie Brown's Christmas again?

I leave you with the Mommom quote of the day...

Dad: Mom, I'm going to paint that cane for you.
(Perhaps you recall my earlier post about the sawed off snow shovel with a rubber stopper on the end that she's using as a cane these days?)
Mommom: No you will not, it's fine the way it is. It's nice now and if you paint it I can't take it to a restaurant anymore.
(Yes, I frequently see people trolling around the Max & Erma's with a sawed off shovel...makes perfect sense.)

Whiskey Makes your Face Ugly and other Useful Observations

So I'll apologize for my lameness lately. We were in CA for a wedding last week and far too busy drinking wine. I'm sure most of you would agree that wine drinking is more important than sitting in front of a computer.

However, I was thinking about writing and as a result I have a few critical lessons learned or useful observations, if you will.

#1 Avoid the “direct, but not really direct” flight.
I have an unnatural love of Southwest Airlines. My co-workers do not understand this. They’re busy being mileage/airline status junkies (you know who you are!) and I'm busy loving Southwest. Those Southwest people crack me up and best of all, they're usually on time. It’s a novel concept when your local airport is a US Airways hub. I decided that since I had a free ticket I would use them to book our vacation. I knew I had a connection in Vegas on the way out, but I did not know we were ALSO stopping in Pittsburgh. This plane was nothing more than a giant bus in the sky. We simply landed, picked up some more people and then took off again. The same thing happened on the way back but twice instead of once. I was in six airports over as many days....that is bad.

Quotes of the Flight:
Husband watching people board in Pittsburgh: “Is it just me or are all these people missing necks?”
Taking off from Orange County: Flight attendant whispered in the PA, "Shhhhh, we're flying over rich people’s houses".

#2 Carpool lanes are cool! Minivans are not.
We got a sweet deal on Orbitz for a weekly rental. I had never rented from Dollar before and now I know why - we were riding in style in an electric blue minivan.

Since there were three of us we avoided lots of traffic in the carpool lanes and we went through the toll booth for FREE - it's like Christmas in October. As we pulled up to the toll with our $4 the guy shouted at us "CARPOOL!". Being from the wasteful state of Pennsylvania we had no idea why this guy wouldn't take our money and was yelling at us. Apparently that means you ride for free - I love these tree huggers.

We had a really excellent dinner our first night at Barndiva. (www.barndiva.com) Should you ever find yourself in Healdsburg, CA it’s a lovely little place with really killer food.

We then kicked off the official festivities Friday night with what my friend Kelly likes to call a backyard BBQ. This was nicer than most actual weddings. She's a bit obsessive with her event planning, but that's why we love her. Great food, a bluegrass band, a fire pit and lots and lots of wine.

#3 Drinking too much at wedding events can be highly entertaining for party guests, but may piss off your spouse.
I had been careful with alcohol consumption for the first two days in preparation for the wedding. I can’t say as much for the Bride’s brother-in-law. Our other friend commented that he must have incredible balance. His feet were firmly planted on the ground while his torso swayed at a dangerous angle. He later walked up to a group of people (including his mother-in-law) and asked “Anybody got any weed?”. Classic….. His wife looked like she was ready to kill him. He topped off the evening by attempting to lean against the wall of the outdoor tent….as you can imagine, that didn’t go so well. We’ve all been on both sides of that fence. The drunk side is far more fun. Cheers to the brother-in-law!

#4 Need a priest, no problem www.rentapriest.com
The wedding was beautiful. The ceremony was at sunset overlooking a gorgeous golf course. It was almost too perfect. There were wild turkey and deer running around. Bishop Carlos married them. As we all know Catholic priests don’t do weddings outside the church. This guy was a an Orthodox Catholic and apparently they don’t mind the country club and the wild turkey. Seriously…..they found him on the Internet.

Favorite line from the wedding service:
Bishop Carlos during the wedding vows: “If you’re Christian, pray with us. If you’re an atheist, why not just in case”

So it was time and I attacked the wedding bar with vigor. Champagne, wine, dancing, hiding from the scary photographer…all was well until I encountered the B&B. Bed and Breakfast you say? No. It was The B&B Lounge. Our after party. Sort of like the road house equivalent for wine country. If I were smart I would have stopped drinking at this point. However I am not and so I did not. Hence...

#5 Whiskey makes your face ugly.
I can't take credit for this observation. It was sage advice from my mother-in-law. She once told me that I should never drink whiskey because it makes your face ugly. This may in fact be true but I think the statement needs to be amended to read – “Whiskey makes your face ugly but sometimes it makes your face look nice to people from whom you should definitely stay away”. I decided at some point that I needed to tell the groom's 6'4" friend that I would like to do shots of whiskey. It really wasn't my fault. He was making fun of me for drinking coke. It's an unwritten rule that if you're really drunk and someone makes fun of you for stopping consumption you should immediately challenge them to drink the worst thing you can think of just to shut them up.

After a few shots of Beam I stumbled upon Beef Jerky man. Maybe he found me, who knows. I'm not so sure he was speaking English at that point but he told me I was delicious and proceeded to feed me beef jerky. It was probably not wise to eat it but I did anyway. It almost seemed rude to refuse since he just paid me compliment….I think. My husband decided it was time to take me home.

The next morning was bad. It involved the bathroom, a complete inability to pack or shower and a lot of self loathing. I made it as far as Kelly’s couch. I then ate half a bagel, prayed that it would stay down and pulled a blanket over my head. My friends took pictures. The groom later showed up and told me while he was happy I had such fun at his wedding he felt that my current state was payback for my own wedding and how hung over he was. I have such good friends.

So the moral of the story is, if you plan to drink whiskey with a guy eating beef jerky, leave the minivan and the rented priest elsewhere because it’s not a pretty sight. Oh yea, and remember to pray, just in case.

No Chicken Dance, but One Chicken Hat

We're finally on vacation now for almost a week and I've hardly had a chance to stop and think about being on vacation. I arrived and my luggage did not. As I was packing in Philadelphia I told my husband that I would pack half of my clothes in one suitcase and half in the other. That way if one was lost we would both have clothes. As usual he was slow to pack and I ended up packing everything in one suitcase. Naturally both of his arrived safely and both of mine were lost. It took us several hours and as many phone calls to find it. So, I attended my brother-in-law's civil marriage luncheon in jeans and a hoodie. I'm American I suppose they'll forgive me.

The wedding went off without a hitch, which was a huge relief. I also happened to find the only three English people at the wedding to make nice with. We had also agreed to give the English folks a ride to the church and given that we only had our typical European rental (read: car big enough for 2 adults and a cat) we had to stuff them all in the backseat. In typical fashion we arrived at 10:59 for an 11:00 wedding. Ordinarily this would be fine but we had to shuffle up to the front row while an entire Church watched. As luck would have it, the bride was late as well so it wasn't tragic.

The entire service was in a language I do not speak or understand so I only had people watching to entertain me. There are a finite number of people in front of you when you're forced to sit that close so it was a bit of an art form to surreptitiously sneak looks around the sides. The highlight of my church experience was the cello player. I'm not sure if she had a sinus problem or a cocaine habit, but the snorting noises were terrifyingly loud. Each time she brought the bow across the strings she would sound like a Hoover.

After service I tottered back down the stone hill in my impossible shoes to stuff back in the tiny little car with the three English people and ride back to the castle for the afternoon reception. It really was a lovely place. The castle has a multitude of functions, including serving as the set for a soap opera. Its less glamorous and curious purpose is a nursing home for old spinsters of nobility. I'm glad I didn't know that until after the fact. I think I would have felt a bit like I was being watched by nuns as I was slugging back champagne and trying not to fall over in the rocks in my hat. Speaking of hats, there were several worth mentioning. One had so many feathers that it looked like a chicken had found it's way onto her head and fallen asleep. Luck for us she had a matching chicken handbag. Another was dressed head to toe in a pink and green ensemble. She looked a bit like an Easter egg. My husband's brother's girlfriend commented that it was fairly typical of the area she lives in the South. It must be a rule that that Southerners are crazy everywhere.

Afterwards I went back to our room to sleep off the fog I had been slurring around in. My dear husband on the other hand felt it prudent to continue drinking with his friend. They both stumbled in to dress 30 minutes before dinner. I of course was ready and had even less sensible shoes than the previous event. His friend and I teetered back over the rocks to the castle, I because of my shoes, he because of the large quantities of alcohol.

My dinner date was a very nice college friend of the bride. As we sat down he told me that he was looking forward to sitting with me because he was told I was very funny. No pressure... Across from me was an older gentleman who was married to an American for many years. It was a bit like talking to my grandmother as I had the same conversation with him three times. On the other hand, three identical conversations in English is better than none at all.

There were several highlights of the evening. There was a girl with a dress that was reminiscent of JLo's famous dress that hardly covered the goodies. The DJ told us she was taped up like a Christmas package. Apparently he got a good look. Later in the evening my husband's friend accidentally threw her into a potted plant. This is not at all surprising since earlier in the evening he whipped me around so fast that I accidentally flew out of my dress. Thankfully I have a quick hand and was able to rectify the situation before I became wedding fodder on the Internet. Much later in the evening my brother-in-law did an interpretive dance to Robbie Williams. It was a cross between having a seizure and channeling a large bird. Perhaps he was inspired by the hat earlier that day.

We drank until about 6AM at which time I realized that I was only going to get about 4 hours sleep before I had to get up and play nice at brunch. Ugh.... This wouldn't have been problematic except for the fact that I had only gotten 4 hours the night before as well. This trend continued for three days when the following morning we got up at 7AM to drive a friend to the airport. We soon discovered the bomb squad had been called in. In typical fashion they had evacuated one terminal while the other continued along as if nothing was wrong. Perhaps they figured the EZ Jet people wouldn't mind getting blown up? That's what you get for flying discount.

Tomorrow we're off for our vacation from our vacation.

Hat Hunting

I think that I am now permanently crippled. Partly from my not at all sensible shoes and partly from the six hour witch hunt I was just on to find a hat. I'm sure most of you have heard me talk about the fact that my brother-in-law's wedding is coming up. Weddings there are much different than weddings here. I needed a hat. As best as I can figure, hat wearing went out of mainstream fashion in the US some time in the 60's. Clearly our friends over there haven't gotten the memo.

I find the cultural differences quite interesting. For instance, my in-laws find it amusing that my husband calls my parent's Mom & Dad. "Oh, that's so old fashioned" they say. However they're the ones getting dressed just to go outside to get the mail. Generally speaking it seems that this lack of formality has extended to all activity in US. Every day in the summer we roll out the door in shorts and t-shirts while the only place this "ensem" is acceptable over the pond is when one is going to the gym. I have to remind myself when visiting that it is decidedly not ok to show up at the breakfast table in my PJ pants and a tank top.

So I needed some serious shopping for this trip. Could I have recycled from my current wardrobe, sure but where's the fun in that? Plus, I needed a hat. I needed a dress for the hat (note: the fact that I bought the dress before the hat is irrelevant, so shush). I typically have two colors in my wardrobe, black and black. Black is not ok for church. Looking out at a sea of wedding goers over there is like looking at a giant Easter egg. If I look back at pictures of my wedding you can spot the Americans at 500 yards - a sea of black. Don't get me wrong, everyone looked absolutely chic and lovely, but our style is certainly not garden party, unless of course one is having a funeral in the garden in which case that would work out quite well. So I forced myself to look at the dresses that I would normally speed right past. I saw this dress as a happy compromise, it's secretly a black dress that's not black.

One June Cleaver, garden party looking dress purchased...check!

I spent one evening surfing the Internet looking for hats. Who knew that these things were special order? So now I'm screwed. I have to find a hat off the rack. They might as well have told me I need a burka because they're probably about as common as hats in this country. I nearly killed myself walking around Philly looking. I even went into Sophie Curson which is old biddie heaven. I didn't find a hat, but I did end up in Leehee Fai and found an awesome dress for the evening. I'm in love with this dress. It's sort of like wearing a cross between your PJs and a giant parachute. I did cave and buy it in black, but seriously we can't be colorful all the time. My husband says that a tuxedo is black intentionally so that the woman is the focus of attention. I say black is minimizing, who wants to look back and see pictures of ones self looking like a giant grape or some sort of big white sausage?

One fabulously comfortable evening gown purchased.....check!

This morning my mother and I got up bright and early to go shopping. We mapped out all of the possible locations that might be hiding church hats. The adventure began at 10AM. We drove out the main line and hit every ladies boutique between Wayne and Bala Cynwyd. Nada. Finally hit Saks around 1PM. Nuttin. Lord and Taylor, used their ladies room but that's about it. (btw, the L&T out on City Line smells like an armpit, don't go there) Drove to King of Prussia, did the department store thing. Finally, I put all good sense aside and went into Needless Mark-up. There, in all it's glory, was an honest to God hat department. I can only theorize that hats are like engagement rings. There must be a rule somewhere that a hat should be one month of your salary. That's the only POSSIBLE reason that something so small and useless could cost as much as it did. The only somewhat redeeming part was that the stupid thing was made in the good old USA. At least I'm not supporting 3rd world child labor. The funniest line from the whole Nieman's experience....the saleswoman says to me "..and it comes in one of our beautiful hat boxes." Seriously, you can't make this stuff up, those words came out of her mouth.

So here it is. My lovely hat. Of course, I got it in black.....check!

Picture credits: www.bananarepublic.com, www.pollisays.com, www.ericjavits.com