A Snarky Christmas

     With all that our daughter is going through right now I feel bad for being a Christmas FREAK!   As you have probably ascertained, this is Mrs. Snarky, not Mr. Ba-humbug Snarky.

I've been pondering today a way to help her not hate Christmas this year.  I could call her up and sing a song to her every morning before she heads to work, but I'm fairly sure she'd get sick of  "Jingle Bells" pretty fast if I do that.  I could remind her constantly that this is a season of celebration, of loving one another and being kind to each other.... however, I am also sure that she will just laugh in my face over that one.

Then, I came up with this GREAT idea.  Well, I didn't come up with it... I borrowed it from the family of our daughter's best friend.  Every day this month, I could give her a small gift.  A candle, a candybar, a card, a handwritten note, a scarf, a poem I've written for her.... you know, that kind of thing.  Nothing expensive or extravagant.... but something that would let her know that I am here, I love her, and here, have some stuff you probably don't need.

I kind of like that tradition a lot.  In fact, I wish my whole family did it.  I would love it if every day someone would put some thought into a little something to give me.  I would completely love to do that for someone else.  What a thoughtful and mindful way to think of the people you love.  I don't mean going out to buy them something, and making it a burden on yourself or something you dread doing.  Maybe one shopping trip, spend $20 on a few cute, fun or sweet items, spend an evening writing up some special "love" notes for them, maybe a list of all the things you like about that person.... and then randomly presenting them throughout the month.  I want a holiday do over!!!!  Why did my parents not teach me that when I was younger?

Oh yea, because my parents were busy just loving me, raising me, working, caring for my needs and trying to put together a special Christmas morning for myself and my siblings by making, creating, crafting and sewing things along with the store bought items to be laid under the tree on Christmas morning.

Oh.

Oh well.  That tradition kind of sucks anyway considering that the mother of the family left her husband for a high school sweetheart, their oldest daughter moved away and no longer talks to the family and the son is now in jail for all kinds of little crimes.

I'll stick with our family tradition of dancing around the tree on Christmas morning and wadding up the wrapping paper to have a paper throwing fight when the gifts are all opened.  That should keep our family together and strong in the years to come.

Excuse me, I have to hug my daughter and tell her I love her.

Merry Christmas! Mrs. Snarky

Why Most Boys SUCK ASS

Hearts are breaking as life goes on all around us. That just pisses me off!

We have an absolutely gorgeous, talented 19 year old daughter who of course thinks she's hideous. What is that? Why are women soooooooooooooo under the impression that they aren't worth a damn? And what is it with young men who use someone up and then dump them along the roadside when they don't "FEEL" for them (or anyone else for that matter) anymore?

Boys (other than my own sons and my husband and stepson of course) are the dumbest creatures in creation. "Who am I?" "Who do I want to be?" "How do you fit into my perfect little picture of a life?" "How long can I drag this out to make you doubt yourself and make you as miserable as you can be before I tell you to get lost?"

If I could fix things for her, I would. I'm her mom after all. She's my baby girl.

If I could, I'd make her dreams, all come true.

If I could, I'd make anyone pay who stomped on her heart.

If I could, I'd buy her a magic mirror that would show her exactly what she is.

If I could, I'd make sure that the only tears that fall from her eyes are due to joy.

If I could, I'd use vampire powers to compel her so that she could forget.

If I could, I'd put him on that Ghost Ship where all the people were cut in half by that wire that snapped... and the last thing he'd see is a glowing image of my daughter.

Or maybe, If I could, I'd hand him over to the psycho in "Saw" and tell the freak to make it a blunt, rusty one.

OR!!!!!!!! If I could, I'd tie him to the spot part of the asteroid fell to on "Deep Impact."

I can't do those things though. LAME!!!!

Eh, I probably wouldn't actually hurt the guy. I like him. I actually like him a lot. I think that's why I'm so shell shocked. I just don't LIKE him right now. I'm sure he's hanging with his friends, having a great time while she is sobbing and moving all of her stuff out of his house.

Maybe I could at least give him a horrendous wedgy that rides up to his throat.

This would be the only time the song "Love Hurts" by Nazareth would be appropriate. Did you know that the name of the man who wrote the song "Love Hurts" is BOUDLEAUX BRYANT????? What in the heckfire kind of name is that anyway??? Were you also aware that the band Nazareth is from Scotland and was formed in 1968? All true. Read it on Wikipedia. That was three years before I was born. Kind of freaks me out a bit.

"I've really learned a lot, really learned a lot. Love is like a flame, it burns you when it's hot. Love hurts. Ooooooooooooooo Love hurts."

Hopefully my daughter is instead listening to songs like "Before He Cheats" by Carrie Underwood. Or "These Boots Are Made For Walkin" by Nancy Sinatra.

Maybe I could just procure some nettles and distribute them through all of his clothing. Or those really really tiny nasty stickers from a cactus that looks all soft and fluffy but is actually the plant from hell.

Well, there's nothing I can actually do at this point. But if you think of anything that might be of help, or a great torture device, let me know!

Mrs. Snarky

Dreaming of a fast Christmas

I don't hate Christmas. Honestly, I don't. But, for the next month, you can expect me to bitch about the parts of Christmas that I do hate. Here we are, the weekend after Thanksgiving, and I am already sick of all the damned commercials using the "Carol of the Bells" or "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" and changing the words to their liking. Every time I hear that shit I want to throw something at my TV.

For the first time ever, this year I went out on Black Friday... or rather, Thanksgiving night and into the beginning of Black Friday. It will likely be the last time ever. We showed up at Walmart (not my favorite place) at around 10:30, after being stuck on the interstate for close to an hour driving the final mile and a half to try to exit to all the amazing shopping in the area. It was a special time. When we got there, the place was a zoo. They were offering Blu-Ray players for 50 bucks starting at midnight. Around 25 or 30 people were standing around a pallet with their hands on the things just waiting for the clock to turn to 12, so these people were there for at least an hour and a half just holding their arms out there so they could hurry to the registers and get out with their prize. Of course, at 12:05, nobody was standing there anymore and there were still 25 or 30 of the players left. I guess they'd have had to wait in the line for an extra 15 minutes or so if they hadn't stood there so long. Makes sense.

Most Christmas songs make me feel a little ill. Lots of people love them. Not me. A little over 1/12 of your life is spent during the "Holiday Season." This means that I have to hear the same, tired, crappy songs 1/12 of the time. So far I've been lucky. My least favorite song, which I counted hearing 77 times one year, has not yet pierced my eardrums. But it's coming. It will be the subject of a later post, I promise.

Tonight we put up the tree and some lights, cleaned up some areas that truly needed attention, and had a decent night. This part of Christmas is just fine with me. Sprucing the place up, and spending time with family is nice. The external crap is what makes me hope that it gets over with, and does it quickly.

Wishing you and yours a very Happy and Speedy Holiday Season.

Mr. Snarky

How Blogging Gave Me A.D.H.D.

     I'm agitated.  I'm not gonna lie or sugar-coat it.  I opened my laptop after waking from a flu-induced nap in hopes that I would find some great and simple ideas for Christmas.  Now, I'm jittery, my shoulders hurt, I think my left eyeball is hanging out of it's socket and I want to stick a whole pack of smokes in my mouth and just light it up.

Oh, I found some ideas.  I typed  "Free Vintage Christmas Clip-art" in Google and selected this site:  Vintage Holiday Crafts.  This little guy caught my eye instantly:

Is he not just ADORABLE??!!!  I then did the polite and legal thing and read the terms of use.  WHY are the terms of use so freaking annoying?  Can I use the clip-art or not?  Will I be shot for putting it on one of my Christmas cards to send out to a friend?  What if I create my own cards to sell?  Well, that's fine as long as I don't go over 999 cards.  NINE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE????  Who has the freaking TIME for that crap???

Oh hey, I could really use an antiqued looking ticket stub to create a new "Grab my Button" button.  Google... antique ticket stub.  Scroll, scroll, GOT IT!  Graphics Fairy eh?  Okay, saved my ticket, browsing Graphics Fairy's site.  13,310 followers?  What the heck?  Guess I'd better delve in and see what all the hullabaloo is all about.  Wow.... great clip art.  Up to date blog.  Lots of extra links to follow.  Damnit, that one caught my eye.  No ugly ornaments challenge.

Ahhhhhh-mannnn.   She's posted a youtube video with her kids making crafts.  Well, I have to watch THAT. Some kind of paper Christmas ornament they found on Martha Stewart's site.  Did I just click that?  Crap.  10 pages up on Chrome, I've no idea where I started or WHY.

Martha is a goner.  Shut that puppy down after I read her instructions, which made NO FRIGGIN' SENSE AT ALL and went back to the ornament challenge page.  Oh lookie!  She's got a Pinterest link!  click.  Pinterest does NOT pop up.  Instead, I'm invited to take part in a linky that will boost my blog and pinterest accounts with new followers if I am selected because of my creativity and photo taking abilities by three ladies whose accounts I need to link up with and leave comments on before I'm taken seriously.  Seriously????

Argh.  I hit the back button.  Glare at the Pinterest button, and notice RIGHT below it, another button that says Pinterest Christmas Party!!!  Well, I HAVE to click on THAT one!  Pinterest doesn't pop up.  again.  I've been duped.  It's a tutorial on a braided scarf.  How did I get here???  Close that link down.

What in the heck was I trying to do???  My head is stuffed up, there is pressure behind my left eye, I'm scrunching my shoulders in danger of becoming a potato bug and folding in on myself.... and I've no clue what my original reason was for opening the damned laptop.  

Oh wait!  Check out that cool button!  Below it says:   "I have 15 fantastic guest bloggers ready to share some great projects and recipes with you over a 3 week time period."   Oh my gosh.  15 'fantastic' bloggers whose pages I will need to visit because one or all of them might have incredible insight into something I can't live without.


That's when my eyeball fell out.  I'm calling my doctor tomorrow for some ritalin. 


Come on Nyquil, do your stuff!  Get me out of this crazy thing...... called love?

                                                                                             Mrs. Snarky 

Life in Movieland

Have you ever noticed how movie and TV characters can do just about anything? Their skills often amaze me. The other day I was watching a show and one of the guys was a computer genius. He deleted all records of an auction on an E-bay type site and while he was at it, improved his co-worker's credit score and added a few grand to his bank account, all in the space of around 5 minutes. Amazing.

Have you ever tried to pick a lock? 30 seconds flat for these guys. When I break into someone's house it takes at least 5 minutes. What about hot wiring cars? All you gotta do is pull the panel off of the steering column and voila, you're off to the races.

Have you ever fallen off of a cliff or the top of a building and caught yourself on the edge, even when there is really nothing to hang on to? No problem, right? And even easier than that is pulling yourself back up and over. Sure. Piece of cake. Go out and find a high bar that is barely above your fully extended arms, jump up and grab it, and then pull yourself up and over. Not so easy really.

Does everyone out there in the dating world really go to bed on the first date? It sure seems to me that they do... but mostly, they just hook up in bars and go home with a different person every night. That is as long as they look like Ryan Reynolds or Matthew McConaughey. If they wear bad clothes or have a funny mustache, forget it, they will never get laid... that is until they find the really dorky girl (who is actually gorgeous, but is covering it up with her bad glasses and her hair up) and then they get married first, because that is what dorky girls do. Very realistic, no?

How come bad guys can never shoot very well? Do they not practice enough? They never ever hit the good guy and only occasionally hit his partner. Maybe they go to bad-guy shooting school.

The very worst part of living in movieland is this: if you cough more than once, you will not be living very long. Time and time again I've seen where the main character's father or his friend coughs and there is a short little look of concern, the cougher says, "it's nothing" and within ten minutes of film time, he's on his death bed, or has already kicked the bucket.

Cough. I Love you guys. Cough. Uh oh.

Hope I'm alive long enough to post again soon.

Quiet Time

     I'm craving some serious quiet time right now. However, as soon as I sat down at the computer my two year old granddaughter says "Nigh Night!!  Go nigh night!  happy bday??"  She is now singing "happy 'buth' kunkine away abcdfgee."    There is NO quiet moment with her.  None.  Zippo.  I know she can read, she's just being belligerent!

I've been perusing other blogs to get ideas for Christmas crafts and decor.  It sucks.  Seriously.  All of the places I click on CLAIM to have small children.  And yet the pictures they post make me believe that these people have never had a child step foot in their homes.  Where is the clutter?  The clothes on the floor?  The empty sippy cups???  The food spread around?

Just once I'd like to see an honest photo of a normal family.  Maybe I should head over to Awkward Family Photos.  Or maybe not -   Awkward!!!!

                                                                                           Mrs. Snarky

Pointless

   
I'm apparently too tired and crabby from my recent doctor experiences to be very funny tonight. I've had an ultrasound, (no I'm not a hermaphrodite as my lovely co-worker suggested) an MRI, (I do have a brain, which I was glad to hear) an aspiration, (which is actually just a nice way of saying I'm going to stick a needle in your throat for around an hour) and acupuncture (a not so nice way of saying I'm going to stick needles all over your body and leave them in for around an hour). I've tried and tried again but instead of funny Mr. Snarky, the writing comes across as bitchy unfunny Snarky. Sorry. I have a right to be bitchy. Oh, and the Packers kicked holy hell out of my Vikings tonight. Just kick a dog when he's down okay?

Anyway, Mr. Snarky's health has been an issue lately, but don't worry. He'll be fine. You know he's feeling a little bit better when he starts writing about himself in 3rd person. So I got that going for me, which is nice. I am feeling a bit down though. Anyone have any Prozac? Maybe Jemaine can cheer me up instead.

Time to go to my happy place

Ahh screw it. Nothing helps. Time to pop a Xanax and go to bed.

Goodnight. I kinda like you guys.

Mr. Snarky