Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

It's The 22nd ... I Have Nothing Done

December 22, 2003 ... 3:09 p.m.

[watching The Christmas Shoes]

*tv character to son*: �Every time your heart beats...�
Bootsie: �...I�ll remember yours didn�t.�

Oh, that Bootsie ... such a sentimental fool.

I�m still alive. Suppose I should update.

I don�t really have an excuse for not writing. I�ve just been so tired and it is that time of year and all. Been wrapping presents like an elf on crack. And they look like they were wrapped by a crack-addled elf, too.

Since I have no job or life or kids or prospects or, really, any reason to get out of bed at all, I volunteered to wrap gifts for anyone to busy to do it themselves.

And okay? Kiddie gifts? With all the sticky out wheels and noisemakers and stuff? You suck and I hate you all.

It is the 22nd and we have just put lights on our tree. No decorations yet. Just lights. Singing, blinking lights. And, since it is game night, I don�t expect to have a decorated tree anytime soon. Maybe by this time next year, there will be some tinsel strewn about. But I wouldn�t count on it.

Speaking of game night ... ESPN. 8pm CST. UIowa vs. Texas Tech. Bobby Lite vs. Bobby Knight. Captain Gel vs. Captain Hell. In Texas.

Check out Brunner--he is so Oscar. It�s like they�re twins, except Brunner is shorter. And younger.

We won�t win. Captain Gel has never beaten Bobby Knight and he never will. We should kill them--we have so much talent and experience. We should mop the floor with them, but we will lose. Probably by around 10-ish points, because it�ll need to appear that Captain Gel is trying to win. Even if it�s a close game towards the end, Captain Gel will do something--call a timeout, design a play, substitute a player--that is so inexplicably stupid that we will lose.

Ah, Captain Gel, how I despise you. But �tis the season, so good tidings and whatnot.

Made some cookies today. I couldn�t find the sugar cookie recipe that I like and the one I used was for crispy cookies. I didn�t care for them, so I�ll give them to the cousins. Because I don�t care for most of them. See? Win--win.

And I made pot roast yesterday for dinner. Cripes, I�m a good cook. No, really. I am. The roast was melt-in-your-mouth perfect. I should�ve added more carrots and a few more potatoes. But, oh well. Lesson learned.

Did you know I actually asked for a waffle iron and crockpot for Christmas? I am a dork. But, as I glance in the direction of our pitiful tree (which is, like, 4 feet behind me and to the right), I don�t see a package big enough to be either of those. I think I�ve gotten 5 dvds and maybe a shirt. I don�t know. I don�t much care, either. I mean, I care ... it doesn�t bother me. As long as I get books, I�m happy. I LOVE to read, I am a voracious reader and I want--nay, I NEED new material. Yes, I will spend unseemly amounts of money on gifts for those I love just to make them happy and a book will make me squeal with delight. Any kind of book Any topic.

Except I�m not overly fond of Elvis books. You�d think I would be fond of something that contains two of my favorite things--Elvis and reading. But you�d be wrong. Oh, I�ll be joyful over an Elvis book. It�s just ... I usually already have a copy. I have 6--SIX--copies of Elvis & Me (4 paperback, 2 hardcover). And I always feel as though I shouldn�t be reading them anyway, because I like to keep my Elvis items in as flawless condition as I can and actually reading them musses the pages. Woe! Woe, I say!

Well, I�m a wee bit tired so I�m going to try to take a nap. I guess this liver thing poops me out and so does the damn Prednisone. It also gives me a little ADD thing going on and, I swear, I�ve gained like 30 lbs. in a month. My face is totally round and my nose is all red. I look like an alcoholic beachball. Or Ted Kennedy. Yes. I look like a rich, womanizing, 71-year-old, Irish-Roman Catholic, date-killing, male government official. Good senator, bad date.

I�m putting this up before my nap so, if I seemingly pull a Marilyn ... you know what really happened.

*Wink*

To my 3.2 loyal readers: avenge my death!

Or, you know, just make up some stuff and post it to various usenet groups. Whatever.

Currently Reading: The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Listening To: oldies station
...and please, say to me you�ll let me hold your hand...

Have a happy day!

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