Netflix loves to recommend movies to me, and me, I'm an open minded kind of girl. I'll try the recommendations out every now and again. I've yet to be disappointed, and this was no exception. Delicatessen is bizarre, unexpected, and at times laugh-out-loud funny. Did I mention bizarre?
My favorite character was the woman who, Harold and Maude style, tries to find one creative way after another to commit suicide. Only unlike Harold's character, she's serious. Have you played mousetrap? Imagine at one end of the game the device that would take her life, and at the other her intent and very hopeful face. In between might be strings, electrical cords, a sewing machine, water in the tub, kettles or gas emitting ovens.
I won't tell you anything else. Just get it, watch it, and if you're feeling a bit brave, don't read about it first.
How did you find out the secret behind Santa Claus?
Submitted by Carinish.
Christmas eve we would all sleep in my brother's room. He had bunk beds, so one of us would get to sleep on the bottom bunk and the rest would camp out on the floor with blankets and pillows. It was just tradition. Now I realize it was probably my folks' idea to have my brother keep an eye on the rest of us, because he was the only one who truly appreciated the element of surprise.
One night (I was 8 or 9) they thought I was asleep and my brother and sister started talking about how our folks' stockings were done. They figured my mom would take care of my stepdad's and he hers. I shot up and said, "What?! What about Santa? Santa does the stockings!" My brother gave my sister this look like, "Aw man, we blew it."
I ran out and found my mom and asked her about it, and she fessed up. Very nicely though, giving me this long spiel about how Santa is a belief, and a magical thing, and while there may not be a real white haired man shooting through the sky, I could still believe in the magic of Santa.
I wasn't impressed.
My mom's having issues with her computer, so I was asked to take a look.
"Well, I'm going to uninstall this Google toolbar, because you don't really need it. Firefox has popup blockers and everything."
"Pocket wonkers? What are pocket wonkers? What's a wonker anyways, is it what I think it is?"
Some music for the season.
Oh Holy something, courtesy of the Sneeze. I dare you to listen to the whole holy thing. I double dog dare you to wait until your family is gathered around opening presents and then play it, nonchalantly, and keep a straight face. If you play it for your in-laws and rave about how it's your favorite Christmas song ever, I might have to pay you something for the story.
Jingle Bell Rock, by Pink Stainless Tail of Metafilter.
For the latter, here's a quote that will help you understand how it came about:
I like to sing Jingle Bell Rock, but using only the words "bell", "rock", and "jingle":
bell rock jingle rock
Bell jingle rock
Rock jingle rock
Bell jingle bell
Rock bell
Jingle
Rock rock bell
Jingle rock, jingle rock
Bell bell bellDrives my wife nuts. I'd record an MP3 of me doing it if someone could find me a karaoke track.
Doing last minute shopping for the kids and the everyone else, quite honestly, so don't expect much posting. Today is my first day of vacation - no more work until next year! Woooo!! It would be better if next year were like, oh, ten years away.
More small things.
Pixar has a new flick coming out about a gourmet rat in Paris.
The live action Charlotte's Web is lovely. Two kids out of three agree! The oldest is too cool for such sap and folly. It stayed very true to the original except it cut out the singing parts. Which, you know, is ok, because I really didn't want to get "Chin Up!" stuck in my head for the rest of the holiday season. The special effects were very well done. I watch these sorts of movies looking for the seams, and I didn't see a single one. Although, to be fair, I'm a sentimental fool for Charlotte's Web.
When the boys were little and we'd go to Blockbuster (you know, in the olden days - before Netflix), I always made the kids pick out movies from the kid section. One night while wandering around the aisles my oldest piped up (quite loudly) with "Mommy, how come you won't let us watch adult movies?" This led to a family renaming of movies intended for adults. We started calling them "grown-up movies", which sounds silly but isn't a euphemism for porn.
In more adult circles: Just arrived from netflix, but hasn't been watched yet - Delicatessen.
Watching now, thanks to Hannah: Little Britain. Very very very funny. Well, funny enough that I'm having a hard time watching it, because every time I start an episode I end up laughing so hard the boys come out of wherever they're playing to see what they're missing.
Next on the list for the theater is Eragon, although it's gotten some dreadful reviews.
Do you have a nervous habit?
Submitted by Herding Cats.
Yes.
Small things that don't fit in anywhere else.
1. An old friend gave me his lucky charm recently. It's a police issue handcuff key, and for some reason I absolutely love it.
2. This morning on the way to work I passed a customized pick up truck. Current registration tags on the plates, tinted windows, and rap music blaring from the speakers. On the back window, a sticker: the anarchy symbol. I chuckled, just a little, at that.
3. In fine arts yesterday, youngest had to dance with a girl. But that's not all! The girls had to choose their dance partners, and one chose him right away. That's not all either. Her name is Victoria, and he has informed me that in spite of her crooked front teeth, he really likes how she smiles. Then he turned bright red and said he didn't want to talk about it anymore.
4. My mom has wooden cutout letters that spell out S-A-N-T-A. The A's are curved at the top, and every year my brother turns one A upside down and rearranges them to spell A-N-U-S. She almost never discovers it before the rest of the family does.
5. In the audio book I am listening to I discovered a line that I'd never noticed when reading the book myself. I've read the book at least a dozen times and yet always missed the spot where something terrifies the main character "more badly". I heard this line three days ago and yet cannot stop thinking about it, in an absentminded suck-on-a-jawbreaker kind of way.
5. This is my first post to vox via email, because for some reason today every time I click on compose, my cursor goes AWOL. I've tried both Firefox and IE (ew). While I initially guessed it was a sign that I shouldn't blog while at the workplace, a friend suggested it was a sign I should blog via email.
What's on your holiday wish list?
Peace on earth.
HA! Just kidding. My holiday wish list is long, detailed, and full of things that are completely unlikely to ever come to pass. It includes visits from a couple people, a job opening that will probably not really *open* until January (and above that even, a job offer), a morning when I can sleep in without animals or kids waking me, the ability to speed up my metabolism at will, a few phone calls and emails to roll in (certain ones, not just any), plane tickets to a couple places, a week in the redwoods, the unrealistic desire for my company to bring in coffee that tastes like coffee and not dirty burned water, and most of all - for vox to remove this ad from their site (it's been there the whole time I've been typing, and if anyone has any, oh, brain scrubbing solution, I'd love some!):
Well, and a unicorn. A horse would do, really, because I haven't been riding in years, and I can always buy it a unicorn costume. Right?
Last night youngest was in bed. There was a cat sleeping on the bed up near his face and a dog chewing a bone down at the foot of the bed. The dog is known for being a little anxious but hasn't nipped at anyone since when he was a teeny puppy and youngest tried sneaking his bone away. The cat is a Bengal - she's five generations from an Asian Leopard cat (that far removed, she is pretty near a domestic cat with leopard colouring), and a bit generous with her claws, but she's never injured anyone beyond giving a small scratch when playing.
I was out in the living room talking to my mom about Christmas plans when youngest started crying. It was a Bad Cry - starting low and building into more of a moan than anything else - and we both ran to see what had happened. Dog and cat had both vanished, and youngest was sitting up with his hand to his mouth and blood cascading all down his arm. He was rushed into the restroom, where I had him lean over the sink to spit out the blood in his mouth, and my mom raced to get a washcloth.
I couldn't even see where the damage was to his mouth - although scratches were clear on his cheek. I was terrified he'd had the inside of his mouth injured, or that he'd need stitches, as the blood didn't seem to want to stop. Cold washcloth to the face, pressure, wait a little bit, peel the edge up and peek, and the blood would pour again. His poor little eyes were like saucers, he was shivering and shaking and when he did talk his voice had a high quavery quality to it. There was blood splattered all over the sink, all over us and the floor and the counter.
"Was it the dog?" I asked, trying to sound calm but visualizing it, and in a panic, because oh man, if it was the dog that was it, I'd have to be rid of him. He'd never shown any aggression at all towards the kids, he in fact loved youngest more than any of us, and while I couldn't rationally see it, the blood was making me...well, freak out a bit. Youngest shook his head and the relief washed over me - first that it meant when I lifted the washcloth and was finally able to see the wound it wouldn't be a dog bite, and second that we hadn't been betrayed by the dog.
Betrayed by the dog. Yes, I said that. A relationship with a dog is a curious thing. They need you and love you, and want so badly to please you, but you also have to be able to trust them. Is it a dog with even a little bit of aggression? A dog that once bit a child out of nervousness? That's the sort of dog I couldn't have with my boys in the house. Period. Pucho has never shown any aggression, and while he does, on occasion, exhibit anxiety and nervousness, it's more of the cowering and running away to hide sort. Had he bitten my youngest child - really bad. In the face? Even worse. Hard enough to cause that much bleeding? Unimaginable.
"Was it the cat?" He nodded, and tried to talk, "But..." I stopped him. "Shh," and I put the washcloth back over his lip, which I now saw was where most of the blood was coming from. "Pandora? Just nod or shake your head." He nodded, and again acted like he wanted to say something. "Was it an accident?" He nodded vigorously.
Still, me with the relief. Not a dog bite. Just a bad scratch. Had hit his lip, which would be painful, but no stitches would be required. I had some moments of irrational anger at the cat, because grrr, bad cat, but really, isn't this what cats do? Isn't this part and parcel of owning a cat? They don't care if they happen to scratch you when they run across your face. Unless it keeps you from feeding them, that is, and even then they don't care *why* you can't feed them, just that you can't. Even youngest, when he could talk, was pleading her case. "She didn't mean to do it, mom, she's just a cat!"
I couldn't hold onto anger at Pandora for this. However, I have shooed her away from me for the last day or so, and I am not letting her sleep in youngest's room at night any more. At least until she's over two years old and a little more sedate. If she ever is. She, of course, has no memory of any of it, and no idea what she's done. Tonight I'm sure she'll come up next to my bed and sleep on my nightstand - her favourite nap spot - and I'll pet her, absentmindedly, and she'll purr and do that loud mouthed talking of hers "Mreow?"
As far as the dog goes - I just feel strangely guilty for doubting him. Youngest? Oh, he's happy as a clam. Off he marched to school this morning, all excited to show off his battle wounds. I told him he could say a wild animal did it, and he said "They'll probably think that's what happened! A Bengal tiger, I'll tell em!"
Today after school he said he counted each person who asked him what happened to his face, and he got all the way up to 57. This pleased him greatly, and it made me smile too. (He counted them!) Although he can't move that corner of his mouth very much he doesn't seem bothered at all by it, and I'm starting to think I know some grownups who could use his nerve and positive attitude (like me, sometimes, yes, I admit it).
Then he took off his clothes, climbed into the cardboard box he and his brother have been playing with for a few days, and announced he was now the local bank. "Put your money in here!" He cried out, his arm poking out a hole in the side, "I will store it for you in the bank!" Then he wandered over to the front door, ran into it, and fell down. Pucho ran over to check on him, concerned, and Pandora? Sat there looking aloof, cleaning her front paw.
[Please do not think of telling me to declaw my cats. It's inhumane and cruel, and outlawed in some cities with good reason. I would not declaw - I would stop owning cats first.]
