It Was The Best of Times, It Was The End of Times...



So it has been a year since I last wrote.  Well, at least the year has changed.  There has been so much going on in the Monkey House, I just haven't had a chance to catch-up.  But fear not, I'll eventually get back into the swing of things. I got an email from my mother yesterday that said simply,
" I MISS THE MONKEYS!!!".  I get it.  I'm a slacker.  Thanks Ma.

So first on the list this year is the Secret Subject Swap.  Then announcement and prize awarding for the Christmas Tree contest (No I didn't forget... and my tree is still up, so it's not too late, right?).  But lets get this new year of blogging started with my Secret Subject Swap prompt sent by Mommy Unmuted, a funny gal you should definitely check out.  She's unmuted Yo'!  And while you're at it, grab a cup of coffee (or wine, or vodka depending on how your kids are behaving) and check out Baking in a Tornado, the humorista who runs this shin-dig.  And upon blog stalking her, you'll find links to all the other laughable ladies who participate.  They will brighten your day with a well deserved shot of snark and laughter. 

So my prompt is: If the world had ended on 12/21/12, what one thing would you wish you had done differently?  

In all honesty, I was a little concerned about the world ending.  I mean, I've already lived through like 5 "end-of-days" already, so this one had a pretty high probability of actually happening, right?  And the Mayans were pretty smart, even if the people who "translated" the meaning of their calendar weren't (it didn't end stupid, it recycles n' stuff).  I even woke up early with the intent of being awake at 6am (or whenever it was).  You know, I wanted to see the sky explode or whatever.  But I feel asleep, and shockingly woke up after doomsday.  Huh?  Well, so much for my plans to live in a bunker.  And not showering that day.  Oh who are we kidding?  I didn't shower anyway.

But if the world had ended, I guess I would be kind of pissed that I wasted my time waiting for it to happen.  I mean, I really should have spent those last days drinking champagne and betting on black in Vegas rather than making homemade Kindergarten-teacher presents and cleaning toilets in preparation for my own little end of the world (i.e. family visiting for two whole weeks).   So mainly, I wish I wouldn't have spent the end of days cleaning toilets.

The moment of truth would have also left me wondering why I had spent so much time working, saving, struggling (I mean, I sacrificed having pants all year in an effort to better my family), and generally spending time not drinking champagne and eating bon bons.  I mean, we paid off a shit load of debt, but who cares?  We all are going to die in a fiery pit of doom and despair.  It is times like those that you realize a nice pair of pants would probably be worth the expense.  And a sparkly sweater.  Like one a Real Housewife from Miami wears to the gym.  Damn.  Oh well... I can buy one now.  But won't because then I'd have to go to the gym.  Baawwaahaaahaa!!  That's hilarious!!!  And even less likely to happen than doomsday.

I would also have regretted not taking the time to become more fluent in Spanish.  I mean, if we're talking apocalypse, anything can happen right?  So maybe some Mayans would come back to life and rule over the rest of us like dictators.  I'd like the chance to get in good with the dark overlords, just in case.  But no... I spent my time in Spanish class learning how to say "Where is the bathroom?" and "The cheese is good".  I did once haggle my way through a transaction with a street vendor in Cabo San Lucas, but I think they just got bored with humoring my lousy Spanish and my arrogant white-girl-tourist attempt to haggle in their native tongue.  So, yeah.  I didn't do much to ensure my survival if in fact Mayans came back to put the smack down on all of us.  In retrospect, I totally would have rectified that.

Lastly, I think I would have spent more time trying to fully understand the ins and outs of Quantum Theory.  Why, you ask?  Well, so I could build a time machine, duh.  What other sure-fire way could I ensure my survival?  Oh yeah.  I guess just waking up did the trick.  Well, shit.  Where's the champagne anyway?  Mommy's got some catching up to do. 

Take a Moment and Give a Beautiful Child a Helping Hand

So today I read a post from a blogger friend that touched my heart, and I thought I would share her campaign with all of you.  If we all open our hearts and share Becky's story, and contribute a dollar or two, we can help give Nathan a Christmas Gift that will truly make a difference in his life.  Read on for the details:

Originally Published at The Insomniac's Dream: Christmas for Nathan:

Christmas for Nathan

Today, I am going to take a break from the funny.  I would like to introduce you to my friend, Becky, and share her story with you.

Becky and her son, Nathan Jr. 

Her son, Nathan Jr. is four years old.  He has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome and Global Developmental Delay.

How handsome is this little guy?

He is behind in speech and fine motor skills.

Cognitively, he is at 18 months old.  Becky and her husband have tried teaching Nathan sign language, but it is difficult for him and he can only sign a few of his basic needs.

Nathan has a problem with expression through words that causes him a lot of frustration, melt downs, and aggressive behavior.

A very brave Nathan during one of his many hospital stays

He can not hold a crayon, marker, or even a pencil.  He uses an Ipad at school to express what he is trying to say when he is unable to speak.  He uses the Ipad to learn and draw letters with his finger.  He is learning about shapes and how to write.  There are a variety of therapeutic apps available to sooth and help him to settle down when he is upset.

When Nathan is at home he is constantly frustrated and struggles all the time to express himself.

Having an Ipad at home would enable him to tell his parents his needs and wants.

Unfortunately, Ipads are very expensive and beyond what this family is able to afford.  Becky went to Craigslist in desperation, looking for help.  She was met with hate and threatening emails about her son and his disability.  In tears, she explained to us on Twitter what was going on.

Her Craigslist Ad

She shared some of these hateful emails with me as well as her story.  I cried for her.  I cried for Nathan.  My heart aches for a child who struggles every day to express even his most basic needs.  My heart breaks for a child who lives life always frustrated because he can't express himself, and no one understands him.

On top of all of this, Becky has only recently won a hard fought battle against cancer.

Who needs a wig when you have a bow and a beautiful smile?

Can we take a minute out of our days, a dollar or two out of our wallets this Christmas Season and see to it that Nathan gets an Ipad?

Please use the PayPal below to help this family and make this a very special Christmas for a very special little boy.

It is very simple, go to PayPal and where it asks for her email, you type in this Becky.budden@yahoo.com The rest of the fields are self explanatory.

*** I've also made it easy to donate!  Click the Donate button below and enter in the amount you'd like to give.  I'll forward all donations to Becky on a daily basis.

Nathan already says Thank You.

Thank you so much

WTF Friday: Episode 8 ~ If I Won a Million Dollars

So I've been invited to participate in a really cool club called The Secret Subject Swap, hosted by Baking in a Tornado.  By invited, I mean I totally invited myself and wasn't booted at the door even though my name wasn't on the list. 

Secret Subject Swap is much like a Secret Santa party, except with blog topics.  Your topic is chosen by the Secret Subject Swap gods (i.e. Karen, at Baking in a Tornado) from a pool of topics submitted by all participating bloggers. She tells you what your topic is, but no one else knows.  And on a chosen day, you all reveal your posts about your given topic.  My topic was submitted by Dinosaur Superhero Mommy, and is "Whoa, you won one million in the lottery... what do you do?"

So...

The prudent part of me would invest some in mutual funds; ELSS's and ULIP's and what not.  I'd invest some in a business start-up (I hear One Classy Motha is coming up with some patent-pending Beaver Babies... a learning tool that has a hilarity factor of about a billion). I'd give a little to stem cell research and I'd invest in the grey sweat sock industry (long story). And lastly, I'd invest in Ann Taylor.  Why?  Because they make pants.

I'd also give my folks a chunk.  I figure they earned it after 30-odd years of my crap.  And I'd send a hunk to Mr. Martini's folks too.  We're not talking like I'm all giving and philanthropic.  We're talking enough to buy a new TV, or to go on a short vacation, or something. Okay fine.  A new car.  And a fancy watch.  But the bulk would be invested.

The real me (read: not prudent, take-the-money-and-run-around-like-an-idiot-screaming-"I'm-Rich-Bitch" me) would go to Vegas and bet on black.  I'd buy a Jaguar, just so I could say I drive a Jag-u-ar, pronounced like they do in the commercials, which is not at all like anyone, anywhere pronounces it. I would buy a boat even though I live approx. 300 miles from the nearest body of water.  I would go to Tiffany's and try on EVERYTHING and buy NOTHING!

How much do I have left?

I would buy a pony.  I would buy an inflatable bounce house and I would have that sucker inflated ALL THE TIME!  I would buy a fur coat.  No I wouldn't.  But I'd buy a damn good fake.  I'd buy stock in Barefoot Wines.  Hell, I'd start a Pinot Grigio winery and call it I'm Rich Bitch Wines.  I would also buy at least 23 kegs of Berghoff and 190 lbs of shell-on peanuts so I could re-live my college days.

I would buy designer pants in all shapes and sizes and throw them out my car window at moms with shopping carts full of children and messy hair at the Walmart... cause I know how they feel.  I would buy 4 lbs of king crab legs and eat them all myself.  I would also by a 24 pack of toilet paper, because that kind of intestinal assault would definitely land me on the hopper for a full 2 hours.

Lastly, I would buy the rights to this song:

 Be sure to check out the other Secret Subject Swap topics and responses by clicking here.  I would tell you to vote for me, but it's not that kind of club.   

I Got Married By A Wild Boar Hunter on a Remote Island in the North Pacific

So this week's Theme Thursday post from Something Clever 2.0 is about weddings.  I could talk your ear off about weddings, since my day job is to create fabulous custom wedding invitations for bridezillas around the world.  But today I have to talk about my own wedding.  Which was perfect.  And included no invitations at all.  Which made it even more perfect.

See, my husband and I had a whirlwind courtship.  We "hooked up" in March and were married by Thanksgiving.  We travelled throughout the US during that time, bought a house, renovated it, got pregnant, and then decided, well, we should seal the deal, I guess.  We thought about having a real wedding. A small intimate affair that would take place in Chicago (neutral territory for both of our families), but for several reasons (mostly because I was afraid my dad would have a stroke if we told him, since he was still paying off my first wedding) we decided to elope.  I walked into my office one November morning and there was a ticket to Hawaii sitting on my keyboard.  How could you NOT marry that guy?

I was whisked away to the Halekulani Hotel in Honolulu. Um, yeah.  There was a button by the door you could ring for a personal concierge.  The bathroom was bigger than my whole apartment. The view of Waikiki beach was Amazeballs.  But there was construction going on at a nearby hotel that just sort of cramped our "pretending to be rich super-snob" style.  So Mr. Martini asked for a refund and we hopped on the first plane to the Kauai.  That was back when we did that sort of crazy shit all the time.  Just hop on a plane and go to XYZ.  Or just decide not to get on a plane and do something else.  I don't want to sound like a rich super-snob, but it was fun pretending to be a rockstar for a minute.  Of course we're still paying for those 6 months of fun that started 7 years ago, but whatevs. 

There was a golf tourney going on at our hotel and our beach cabana was right next to Tiger Woods' (you know, before we knew Tiger was a raging douchebag).  So we thought we were the Shiznit!  And we were gonna get married!  Whoot Whoot!  I was a princess!   So now we had to find someone to marry us.  Which we didn't realize would be such a difficult thing to do.  I called like a dozen marriage guys (you know, pastors, reverends, etc. that do beach weddings as a side gig) and everyone was booked.  OMG!  We flew all the way to frickin Hawaii and all I got was this stupid bag of Macadamia nuts?  WTF?  I wanna get married!!!  We finally found a pastor/wild boar hunter who said he could do it.  At 4pm.  That day.

I didn't even have a dress.  Not anything I thought would be marginally appropriate, at least.  Turns out, nothing at the only shopping place we could find would be very appropriate either.  Since I was pressed for time (we're talking like 2 hours till "go" time here), I grabbed the only thing that fit reasonably well and ran off (funny how that has become a theme in my normal everyday life too...).
I would be getting hitched in a black knee length party dress with big red hibiscus flowers printed all over it.  Meh.  It beat out sequined hoochie dress.  It would have to do.

We made it to the beach on time, as they say, and met our pastor.  A real nice guy who asked us over for Thanksgiving dinner.  They would be serving wild boar caught using table scraps from his son's restaurant.  I liked the guy immediately.  Mr. Martini however, was a ball of nervous energy.  He was so nervous you could literally see fear in his eyes.  And then he was asked to do the impossible. Wait until we saw a sea turtle.  Say what, Mr.?  We have to stand here looking into the ocean until we see a frickin sea turtle before you'll marry us?  Heh?  So finally, after what seemed like at least five minutes, Mr. Martini lied so we could get on with it.  That's how you should always start out your married life... with a big ol' fat lie to a man of the cloth.

There was some kind words, a declaration of love, some vows (which I have a printed copy of somewhere) and the exchange of rings.  And of course the kiss.  There are three wedding photos of us, and one is the fake kiss we did after the "ceremony".  Turns out our boar-hunting pastor was also an amateur photographer, and he wanted to get the perfect shot.  In any event, we got hitched.  We were married.  It was official.  Let the throwing of the rice, popping of the champagne, eating of the cake, and dancing off the asses commence!!  And then...

That night, we did what all married couples do. ;)

 I fell asleep while he watched the UCLA-USC football game on TV. 

It was the most perfect day ever, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. 

WTF Friday: Episode 7 --- A Christmas Photo Contest!

Oh Snap!  There's a Contest at The Monkey House!! 

Because it's the holiday season, and all the blogosphere is hyped up about Christmas, I thought it would be fun to do a little photo contest.  That's right, I am hoping enough of you will go out of your way to make me feel good by taking a moment to add a photo of your favorite Christmas tree ever.  There are two categories: Prettiest Tree and Runner-up (which may be the ugliest tree, or may be the second prettiest tree, or may just be the tree with the most ornaments).  Bottom
line: two prizes will be given.   I ask that the trees actually be ones you took part in decorating or at least drove by and saw with your own eyes (i.e. don't just find something hideous on the interwebs).

The two winning photo submitters will receive a prize valued at roughly $100,000,000,000 (a set of 4 handpainted Martini Glasses and free advertising on my blog for a month - a 150 x 150 size... and I'll help you design your ad if you need a little graphic help).  The handpainted martini glasses will be worth a ton of money when I go loco like Van Gogh.  Or Picasso.  Or Cezanne.  Whatevs... they will be priceless 'cause I made 'em.

So add your photo to a blogpost, webpage, your flickr account, or whatever and submit the URL to the linky below.  Let's be honest, most of us do not have Martha Stewart trees since we have kids.  Handmade popcorn garland, the playdoh ornaments, or in my case, heirloom sticks from the Depression handed down from my grandma (no lie) would not likely grace the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.  But I think even my stick-covered tree is pretty.  So, anyone can win!  

Here are a couple examples:

Ugly Tree - This could win a prize!! 

Beautiful Tree

Um, yeah.  If this is your house, you get both prizes.

The contest is open until December 20th at 9am, at which point judging will begin.  The winners will be notified by email and will be featured in December 21st's WTF Friday post.

If you have any questions, you are taking this way too seriously.  But feel free to email them to me anyway.  I love emails.  Especially when they aren't trying to sell me Cialis or anabolic steroids. Neither of which I have any use for.  Bourbon and Zanax... that's another story.

Disco Balls and Cabbage... My Kind Of Christmas

Non-Traditional Holiday Traditions, Martini-Style

So, the three cents I will get in ad revenue will not make up for the $14 it cost me to create this post.  That is how important Christmas is to me.  I Freaking LOVE Christmas!  And I'm old, so it's not even because I get presents.  I love the tradition of it, even though no one would disagree that my "traditions" are a bit, um, non-traditional. 

 

Take Christmas Dinner. When I was growing up, everyone would pile into the car on Christmas Eve and go to grandmas house in Kenosha, Wisconsin.  Kenosha, if ya don't know, is a little enclave of ethnic diversity, dominated by Italians, but with lots of Eastern Europeans sprinkled in for good measure.  My family would be one of those Eastern European sprinkles.  And apparently, in Eastern Europe, sausage (pronounced Saaaaaaa-sage) is a big deal.  So unlike most families who have baked ham or a beautiful roast turkey, we would have kielbasa and sauerkraut. 

 

I went to Grandmas every Christmas Eve for over 20 years before trying this delicacy purely because it looks like something that was barfed up by a cat, and the smell could gag a maggot.

 

Turns out it is actually quite yummy. I finally got the balls to try it the last Christmas I trekked back to Kenosha, when I was like 26.  There was plenty of alcohol involved...mostly so I could make it through the evening with my family.  To set the scene a little, my aunts and uncles think beer can wind chimes are holiday décor, and someone always winds up falling into the tree, which until 2005 was decorated with real candles.   

 

Well, Grandma has passed, and now that I have kids I insist on doing Christmas at my house.  So now, my family has to pile in the car to come to Indianapolis every Christmas Eve, and guess what's on the table?  Yep.  Kielbasa and Sauerkraut.  Every. Christmas. 

-----

Another non-traditional "tradition" that screams Christmas to me, but would likely leave most people thinking they're at a roller rink in the 80's, is Disco.  Macho Man by The Village People and It's Raining Men recorded by The Weather Girls in particular.  So, I guess it's your traditional Gay Disco Christmas...

 

Every year I would come home a couple days before Christmas and help "decorate" my parents house.  Decorating really only consisted of putting a silver bell on top of the TV and frocking whatever raggedy Christmas tree reject was left in the parking lot of the bar down the street.  Sorry dad, your trees were kinda... um, scraggly.

 

 

And since my folks aren't really Christmas Crazies, we always had lame ass non-Christmas-Christmas music.  Those Darned Accordions was my mom's favorite.  And since my brother and I patently agree that accordion music SUCKS, and would rather suck on the broken tree lights than listen to it, we instituted Gay Disco Christmas.  We'd put on one of those compilation albums, like Disco Favorites Number 87, and skid around on the floor in our socks trying not to knock down the tree as we launched glass balls from varying distances toward said tree.  At the end, one of us would hoist the other one up just high enough so they could grab the pathetic top branch to attach the crowning hula Santa.  You know, those hula dolls you put on your dashboard?  Yeah, our tree topper was one of those. But Santa in a grass skirt.  

 

All the while, belting out lines like "I'm gonna go out, and let myself get, absolutely soaking wetttttt!"  And "Dinggggg, Dinggggg, Dinggggg,.... You can ring my be-e-e-el, ring my bell. Ding Dong Ding, Ringalingaling". 

 

See.  Gay Disco Christmas.  Who wouldn't love that tradition?  

 

So, here is where my $14.00 investment comes in.  I thought I would create a little video to get you, my kind reader, into the Gay Disco Christmas spirit.  Enjoy!

 

You Can Go Ahead and Buy My Book...

So I'm a published author!

 

 

Actually, I was already a published author.  Little known fact: I used to be an academic and, well, I wrote about stuff with authoritay.  Mostly about pirates (the Arrgh kind, not the Chinese kind who make fake DVD's) and about voting behavior and ideology, media and... oh, you're yawning?  Awesome.  Glad a decade of my life's hard work bores you.  Well, it bored the crap out of me too, quite frankly. But, out of all those years of binge drinking and dorkitude at the university, I got at least one article published in a somewhat respected journal.  Well, it was respected until they let me in.  It was a pretty cool study that compared the substance of political information (i.e. what you and I call "news") reported by The Daily Show vs. network news during the '04 election.  Turns out, funny news is also more substantive and is better retained in the memory.  You can check out the study here. 

 

And, well, duh.  I blog all the time because I think what I have to say is read-worthy. Am I a delusional published author?  Probably.  But it turns out at least a couple other people agree enough to have slapped some of my crazy in an ebook (along with some other crazy from some other hilarious moms).  You can check out the collection of funny from Life Well Blogged here.  It's an e-book for Kindle.  I don't have a Kindle.  But I think it's just about time for me to get one ;)  And all the proceeds of the book (not my new Kindle) go to Hurricane Sandy relief (so I don't get a goddamn dime.  Boo!!!). 

 

 But, Yay!! Charity!!  

 

I am flattered and honored that these gals thought I'd be a good fit for their collection.  And I hope you all run out and download it ASAP!  I can't wait to read it myself on my new Kindle (Oh, Amazon... how I love thee ;)  And just so you know, I will be writing this purchase off as a business deduction.  I mean, I am a published author.  That's kind of my job now.

 

Yay me!  New Job!