Just Another Day

One of the things I love most about blogging is the interaction with people that in normal circumstances, I would never have met otherwise. I mean, what are the chances that I would find a twin in Iowa , or the coolest people who live in Northern California ? Not the mention the wonderful people in other countries, from Australia to England to Cyprus to Norway to that favorite of mine , Canada . I had the pleasure of meeting a great Canadian blogger on Saturday morning, Hope . Hope found me quite some time ago, and since she left me that first comment oh so long ago, we have been great bloggy friends. And can I say how lovely it is to meet people who are even more fun in person than on their blog? Hope is fabulous. She is cute, smart, witty, and has a great sense of humor. I am all the richer for having met her and gabbing her ear off for two hours in a Starbucks. We chatted like two old friends, and that is how I picture it would be meeting every one of you, my dears.

We have been sick, sick and then sick some more over here. We are in the running for the the official "House of Sickness" award from our local hospital. The worst part about it is that there is nothing that helps, no magic antiviral bullet that we can take. It's just trying to take it easy and not relapse, which is what happened to me the day after Christmas. Oh yeah, my husband was a bit extravagant and got me a gift certificat to here . Whaddaya think, should I get a body massage, a mani and pedi, or a facial? I'm having a hard time choosing.

'Twas the day before Christmas and all through the house Gina was running around thinking, my god, haven't I finished it all yet? The baking couldn't be done for a new garbage disposal we had to get and install, which took pretty much all day. When they finished, I looked at the clock I said to myself, "No way!" I haven't got time to even start what I need to do. So then Gina said to everyone, "Well, it looks like no cookies for you!" And that, my friends, is why I don't write poetry more often. I love you all. I wish you a happy, joyful, and merry Christmas indeed!

At the risk of sounding terribly Scrooge-y, Are you over Christmas already, even though it isn't even here yet?

With all my whining, I am lucky, lucky to be healthy and I would ask that you take a moment to send prayers, good thoughts, positive vibes, or whatever floats your boat to two sets of people. First, Mrs. Grumpy , a lovely bloggy friend of mine who not only lost her husband and best friend three months ago, her daughter is now in the hospital recovering from surgery. So many burdens to bear in such a short amount of time! Please go over there and send her some support! And secondly, my BIL's sister and her family, and although they are not related to me by blood, we definitely consider them family. Her husband has just been diagnosed with colon cancer and has begun undergoing chemotherapy and radiation. He is a young man with a young family, and I wish them all the best. It is so easy to get caught up in all the hustle and stress, but we need to stop and hug our loved ones, don't you think?

I'm so sorry, all you people looking for "Holiday Word Scramble" you won't find them here! Being sick has caused me to fall a week behind instead of the intended week ahead. I was planning on gloating and holding it over all of your heads that I was finished with everything. But alas, fate always has to step in and kick me in the ass, doesn't it? So, I will spend the next few days frantically trying to bake and wrap and do all the million other things I should have been doing this past week. Good luck to all of us!

The 12 things of Christmas that I like, that is! I was tagged by my beautiful bloggy friend J to do this meme: Please share 12 of your favorite Christmas things: they can be memories, traditions, songs, presents, beliefs, whatever it is about this season that you love. 1. Lights! I love putting up and looking at everyone's lights. There is something so cheery and festive about them. Why is it that only fancy restaurants and shopping centers have caught on to the fact that lights are cool any time of the year? 2. Cookies! My mom is a great baker, and since she has worked outside the home since I was in elementary school, the only time she really baked was at Christmas. So we got Russian Tea Cakes and Jelly Thumbprint Cookies, and fudge and all sorts of wonderful treats that we never got at any other time. And who doesn't like cookies? If you don't like cookies, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Now. 3. Midnight Mass! I'm not sure if Midnight Mass is a purely Ca

Because of the writer's strike, I have found myself channel-surfing a bit more than usual. I'm not much of a channel-surfer at all, that honor goes to my husband. I normally turn on the television when I plan on watching something, not just to see what is on that I could possibly watch. Anyhoo, somehow it got onto Fox, and the show "House" was on. I have heard nothing but good things about it, however it never made it's way onto my weekly rotation. I don't have a DVR either, so House was just not on my radar. I watched it for a couple of minutes, and I remembered that the star, Hugh Laurie, is British. I listened to him speak, and for the life of me, could not detect an accent. To be sure, he speaks a bit harshly, but that could be just his character, since I'm not all that familiar with the show. And then I thought about how many times I have watched British actors, never knowing they were British until I read it somewhere. I am then floored that

I've lost the war, totally sick. Are coasters used regularly in your home?

Q. What do you call it when your garrulous, inquisitive, and "inside-voice" challenged five year old loses his voice? A. A tiny slice of heaven, my friends. A tiny, quiet slice of heaven. Q. What do you say to yourself when you feel your own throat starting to get sore? A. I've got five dozen cookies to bake, grocery shopping for ingredients for those cookies, birthday presents to wrap, Christmas presents to wrap, and two parties to attend this weekend. Like hell I'm getting sick. Q. What do you tell your husband when he offers to go to the post office for you and put stamps on all the Christmas cards that have yet to be sent out due to said sick five year old? A. You're a doll, now did you remember to double-stamp the Canada ones? Q. What do you want AAA to know after telling you your subscription has expired when you call them stranded with a flat tire on the side of the road and your son in the car? Thus necessitating a call to your husband who has to take of

You know you are getting really old when this is something that excites you: My sister told me about them, and I was skeptical. But, I just bought some at Target and I was giddy, (giddy I tell you!) at how well it cleaned the top of my kitchen cabinets. Swiffer Extendable Handle Duster, I heart you. Hopefully, the Swiffer Duster will allow me some extra time. You know, so I can get a life.

Whether it be for work or pleasure, I tend to do a lot of my writing at night. I just seem to flow better at night, and it doesn't hurt that after a certain time, everyone else is asleep. On Friday and Saturday nights, I was up late. Reeeallly late. Admittedly, later than I should have been. Although I have to defend Saturday's 1am bedtime, since unfortnately I was in the bathroom from 12-1. Too much information there, I know. Sorry. So last night, for some reason Hubba-hubba decides to get all paternal and snippy with me, and informs me that I had better get to bed on time. Because he doesn't want me to be crabby and he wants to have a good day. If this had been said in a loving and concerned tone, my subsequent reaction would have been different. I just want you to know that. This is coming from a man who for years has had chronic insomnia and has been known not to fall asleep until 3am. Even when he needs to get up at 5:30am. Anybody sense some projection going

(ring ring) Gina: Hello? Readers: Is this Gina? Gina: Yessss, it is, who may I ask is calling? Readers: We are your readers, and we have a question. Haven't you been phoning it in lately? Gina: Um, er, why yes, I suppose I have been lately. What with Christmas coming and the little sweepstakes thing I had going, well, it all got kinda crazy there for a while. Readers: Well, we can understand that. Up to a point. And after that, you see, we just aren't going to waste our time any more. Capice? Gina: Uh, yeah. Loud and clear. So dear readers, I apologize for the lack of any insightful or witty posting lately. And of commenting, in which I have been greatly remiss. My brain and body have both been on overdrive, and I was certainly slacking off pretty much all of last week. Sigh. I'll try to do better this week, although I'm not making any quality promises until after Christmas. Today, because it was a beautiful and lovely day after a couple days of rain, we decided

I ordered my Christmas cards today, and they should be ready sometime tomorrow. Now, if you get a photo card, do you expect it to be signed? Or is it good enough that the card has "Love, the XYZ Family" printed on it?

Ok, after today, you will never hear another word from me about the Teeny Manolo Sweepstakes. It will never enter my vocabulary again. At least, until we do another one. It is just so easy to enter, I don't understand why everyone and their mother is not entering this contest. I know that if I could, I would. For three reasons. 1. There aren't that many people entered, and if we had the contest tomorrow, you would stand a better than 1 in 23 chance of winning one of the gift certificates. 2. I am relatively poor. For absolutely no risk and little expenditure of energy other than linking to a blog, I could win Amazon gift certificates, which I could totally use. And really, they sell WAY more than just books. 3. Glinda rocks. That is all. Go here to find out the official stuff.

He's already learned it. And it ain't love, my friends. Mr. P: Mommy, I really want to paint. Me: I don't know, bud, there's not a lot of time before dinner and I don't know if I want take all of the stuff out. Mr. P: Pleeeeaaaase Mommy! Me: Agh, I don't think so. Mr. P: If you let me paint Mommy, I will pay you.

Does this look like a Santa who is legal to drive that sleigh? And just ignore that cute little ear, there.

Last week, we went to Disneyland, looking to perhaps take a photo for our Christmas card. And actually, we don't do a family photo because we figure, everybody knows what we look like, they want to see the boy. So we try to make people happy. We're all about the happy. Two places I normally go to for Santa photos have great Santas. The beards are real, the eyebrows are real, the tummy, everything. I thought to myself, and compared to those guys, how much better is the Santa at Disneyland going to be? I mean, it's Disney, where everything is perfect all the time. So I chortled to myself, thinking we were going to get a picture with the uber-Santa. The Santa to end all Santas. After standing in line for over a half hour, we finally get a glimpse of the man who is supposed to provide me with THE photo. Can you say, fake beard? Can you say, white clown makeup on the eyebrows? Can you say young guy pretending to be old Santa? Add to that, I swear he looks drunk in th