Black Friday

When my sister Laura and I were in high school, we started a tradition with my mom that we get up wicked early in the morning the day after Thanksgiving for the door buster sales. We would be up and at the mall by 5 am. **Side Note: I was usually very quiet/crabby at this time. My mom and Laura would tease me about getting a coffee right away and a snack to help the moodiness of my low blood sugar and lack of caffeine. By the way, when people tease you at 5 am, it is not funny. Especially if you are not a morning person, like myself.** There have been some years where we haven't been able to do the Black Friday shopping because sometimes Troy and I can't make it down to Chicago in time, but then we just go hog wild for the day after Christmas sales!

This year, I flew solo for the shopping event. I didn't get up as early as my mom and sister would want me to, but I was up and at 'em at 7:30, which is early for me, especially if I have a day off of work! I was worried that because I was going so late that there wouldn't be any good sales, or any good merchandise left. When I arrived at my favorite shopping center, Arbor Lakes in Maple Grove, it looked like any other average shopping afternoon. I didn't have any trouble finding parking, cute items to purchase and there were no grumpy shoppers in sight. In fact, I sneezed while waiting in line at the Gap and a woman, very kindly said, "God Bless You!"

This makes me wonder while today is called "Black Friday." First of all, it is the first full day of the Christmas season, and secondly, it involves shopping. These happen to be two of my favorite things all mixed together. The only thing that would make this day any better would be if Troy came with me, completely decorated in Christmas lights. Then all of the things I love would be present. Today should be called Gold Friday because today is so awesome. I found great deals, put a dent in gifts for family, (and a few gifts for me) and came home in one piece with a credit card that is not smoking a hole through my wallet.

So, happy Gold Friday to all you who sucked it up and got up early to save a little dough-ray-me and enjoy the first day of the Christmas season.

Two Reasons . . .

There are two things that my house has in common with the North Pole:

1. It is freezing here today. At least, that it what my in-laws told us when they came over for Thanksgiving dinner. Troy and I haven't actually left the house at all. This is one of the benefits to hosting holiday meals
2. We are currently 90% decorated with Christmas cheer. That's right, I even have Christmas music playing on our laptop as I type, and I am loving every single second of it. Once Troy's parents left our home, I waited approximately five minutes (this is a rough estimate and could quite possible be even less time than previously stated) before I went out to the garage to get our Christmas tree out of the attic. Quite honestly, that is a record for me considering I generally decorate the weekend before Thanksgiving since we are usually out of town. This year we hosted the turkey dinner (which was fabulous, by the way) so I couldn't decorate as early as I wanted to.

Our house is only 90% decorated for another two reasons:
1. I have not yet put the ornaments on our tree because we have two little, furry friends who are curious as most cats are. Molly has already sat under the tree a couple of times, looking up to the top, probably wondering if she can climb it and how long it would take her. And I am still waiting for Olivia to knock the tree over as she does at least once or twice a year. For this reason, I usually wait a day or two to put the ornaments up in hopes that the novelty of the seasonal climbing wall wears off.
2. We are currently renovating our bathroom (which will soon be the topic of a completely different blog) and since we are going to be lugging a new bathtub, vanity and a few sheets of drywall up our stairs, I can't put our beautiful, pre-lit garland up on the banisters, which is a crying shame. I patiently waited for them to go on sale at the after Christmas sale at Target two years ago. Last year I put the up and loved every minute of their radiant glow winding up our staircase. But this year I have to wait . . . (sniffle).

We are fake-tree people at the Carlson Christmas Casa. I know that for some this is blasphemous. I think there have been times where I have actually offended people by admitting this. Apparently these individuals are involved in the Merry Christmas Militia or something to make them feel so strongly. In some ways, I can see their point. I mean, I claim to be a Christmas aficionado and here I hang my precious and memorable ornaments on branches of lies. You need to hear me out though, we have a fake tree for yet another two reasons:

1. I can keep my Christmas tree up for much longer than if I had a real one because eventually the needles all fall off, therefore allowing me to keep the title of a true Christmas aficionado.
2. One time, my parents heard about a woman who bought a real tree and there was spider's nest in the trunk. When the tree was in her warm house, the eggs hatched and there were spiders everywhere!! EEK!! Even hearing that story second hand was enough to freak me out and I don't think I can even go chop down my own tree now.

So, here I sit, enjoying my lovely Christmas decorations, in all their fake splendor. This really is the best part of the holiday season because today I know that I have all this time to revel in the Carlson Christmas Cheer spread throughout our house. I am far away from the saddest day of the year. The day that I have to say goodbye for now to all these wonderful decorations, put them back in their boxes and up in the cold attic to sleep until next year. Today, I get to anticipate the whole Christmas season.

November Snow

I love to watch Fox 9 News in the morning. Mostly because I think the meteorologist, Keith Marler is so funny. I have seriously almost shot coffee out of my nose due to intense laughing at his antics. This week, we have had beautiful weather - it was in the upper 60's on Monday and Tuesday! However, Mother Nature is a fickle woman and last night it started to snow. Even as I am typing, the wet and heavy snow continues to dance across our windows. This dance is more of a rumba and less of a waltz. It even knocked our satellite out, so no HGTV for me today. It is a little intense. It even has Olivia and Molly intrigued.

I would be one of those people who claim to hate winter, but I think that might not be entirely true. I love snow before Christmas because it gets me in the holiday spirit. This morning when I woke up, before I opened my eyes, it felt a little like Christmas morning. I was so excited to see how much snow we got. Last night when the storm just started to dance its way into the Twin Cities, Troy started talking about spending the day today putting up the Christmas tree and all of our cheerful holiday decorations. I was squealing with excitement, but I am not entirely sure if he was joking or not . . . there is a very good possibility that he was just teasing me. Very good possibility. However, he did come downstairs this morning dancing a little jig and singing "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" which I obviously joined in on. I am seriously fighting the urge to put up our Christmas stuff at this point.

Another great thing about snow is garages. One of my first thoughts this morning was how thankful I was that I didn't have to go out and shovel my car out of the snow. Should I need to make a quick get-a-way, I can just drive my pristine car out of the garage and, in all reality, get it stuck in the driveway . . . but at least I didn't have to scrape! When I lived with my friend Krista, she had a one car garage which she very generously shared with me. We had a system where we would take turns and every other night we got to park our car in the garage. **Side Note: This is one of the reasons why Krista is such an amazing person because I would have selfishly hoarded that space to myself.** Anywho, there was no greater feeling than waking up to snow in the morning and realizing that last night was your night to park in the garage!! On the flip side, there was no crappier feeling than waking up to snow and realizing that you didn't have the garage space last night and now have to rush through your morning routine so you have time to scrape off your car! Bummer fest right there.

Well, I think I am going to see if I can sneak out some of the Christmas decorations without Troy noticing. Or maybe I will make an attempt to drive my little G6 to Target and get some snow pants so I can keep my toasty warm while I build a snowman. Either way, I will be enjoying our November snow.

(Our backyard this morning)

Holiday Coffee Cups

I am currently working on getting my masters in education. I have class every Thursday night from 4:45 to 9:30. Since I go right to class directly from work, it makes for a long day. Because of this, I treat myself to a Dunn Brother's coffee and a yogurt parfait. **Side Note: Those yogurt parfaits are delicious. If you haven't had one, you need to drop what you are doing and get yourself one.**

Today I was feeling rather chipper and thought to myself, "Self, maybe you don't need to get a coffee today, just get that delicious, crack-infested, yogurt parfait." And so that was my plan as I was walked through the sky-ways of Minneapolis. Then, I got to the Dunn Brothers and realized . . . . that the holiday cups were there, just waiting for me to enjoy my coffee with a little cardboard cup of holiday cheer. So, I did what any self-respecting, Christmas-loving, American-consumer would do . . . I bought a cup of coffee. And you know what? It was awesome. Every. Single. Drop.

Anywho, it was a beautiful thing and I love that the Christmas coffee cups are out. And because of my love for them, I have written an haiku:

(ahem)

Christmas coffee cups,
Spreading their holiday cheer,
Who doesn't love that?

Thank you.

Feminists, June Cleaver and Pancakes

I was born in the wrong generation. Though I believe that in marriage and in life, males and females should be on an equal playing field, I tend to take on many of the tasks and responsibilities that June Cleaver found to be in her job description. Since these two ideas often clash, I think the reason that I have pseudo-feminist views and yet still clean the bathrooms at home are due to the fact that I am an anal neat freak - not because Troy expects me to do these jobs. He has been known to pick up the mop and broom every once in a while too.

When I say that I was born in the wrong generation, I mean that there is a part of me that thinks traditional, "old-fashioned" ideas are romantic and cozy. I like making meatloaf and mashed potatoes from scratch. I think cooking is therapeutic and honestly, it just tastes better. I like to wear the black and white paisley apron that my sister, Laura gave me for Christmas two years ago. It protects my clothes and I think it's really cute. I like getting recipe cards from friends and family on 3x5 cards with their handwriting. It makes me feel closer to them when I am making their dish. I love place cards, handwritten invitations, candles and table cloths. I am June Cleaver in the new millennium. It is a role I embrace.

Sometimes my perfectionism gets in the way of me living vicariously through June. When a mistake is made in the kitchen, it suddenly becomes catastrophic and makes me want to throw my spatula at the wall. Since I am becoming more of a veteran in the kitchen, these temper tantrums have become almost non-existent. I almost welcome my mistakes now because then I learn from them. For example, I now know that sometimes the fancy cook books can still have misprints. (I had a breakdown after trying to make a chicken pot pie by Paula Dean. There were tears. It was not pretty.)

Pancakes, for whatever reason have always been a trouble spot for me. I usually burn most of the batch, the house gets super smoky and our smoke detector blares it's annoying warning which then forces me to grab a dishtowel and fan it down like a maharajah. Thus, I don't make them very often, even at Troy's request. Today, I decided, was the day that I grab a hold of the pancake reins and tame that beast. That, and I had some eggs in the fridge there were going to go bad this week. I still burned the first two pancakes and the house looked like we had left a fog machine on after a rave, BUT not a peep from the smoke detector was made and the rest of the pancakes survived!! Yay me!!

Suddenly, I realized that I figured out why I had always failed at pancakes in the past! I know how to make them right in the future! (Little things like not trying to multitask in the kitchen and then forgetting your little pancakes, or turning the heat up super hot, to name a couple.) As Troy and I munched on my super yummy, chocolate chip pancakes, we had visions of having Pancake Saturdays with our non-existent, well behaved, polite children who also happen to have impeccable table manners. We dreamed of having themed Pancake Saturdays: chocolate chip, blueberry, and maybe even German, Swedish and Pannekoekens as a nod to our heritages. One big happy Carlson family sitting around the dinning room table enjoying our pancakes and our Saturdays together . . . . sigh . . . . (If this paragraph suddenly gives to the urge to ask about out family time line, see Baby Fever.)

I think that vision is cozy and sweet. It comes straight from the June Cleaver's Bible for family, food and togetherness. If that makes the common feminist want to body slam me, come on over. I'll be ready with my cute apron and rolling pin. And after I have dominated that battle, I may even invite her to join us for Pancake Saturday . . . if I can find an extra place card.

First Degree vs. Third Degree

This week I was rocking super cute flats . . . that tried to eat my heels. It's part of the Torture of the Toes season. My feet are rebelling against the closed-toe footwear after their flip-flop freedom of summer. However, my flats are tired of spending their days cooped up in a dark closet and are vamping up to fight their own battle of belonging. I had to wear band aids on my heels for two days in a row. Even showering was painful. When the water would hit my war wounds, I would have to contort my body so that I could get clean without my heels being exposed to the shower stream. (In case you were wondering, I was not very successful at this.)

I learned at my first-aid training a couple of weeks ago, that blisters are actually burns. Your foot rubs up against the shoe, therefore creating friction and heat which is essentially burning your skin. When your skin is red and aggravated, it is a first degree burn. When that aggravation turns into a blister, it has now become a second or in some really terrible cases, a third degree burn. This is what lead me to my next segment of Pam-sense. Why are third-degree burns worse than first degree burns, but first degree murder is worse than third-degree murder? Doesn't that seem a little inconsistent?

This would be a great time to admit that this question was actually brought up by a couple of teachers at my school. They wanted me to blog about it at the time, but I write my blogs based on a topic that is burning my brain. (Yes, that pun was completely intended.) So, when I got my nasty blisters on my innocent little heels, I thought that now was the time to address this issue.

Let's compare these degrees of degrees with a table because they reek of organization and I love that.

	Burns	Murder
First	-Injures only the tops layers of skin -Healed skin will not scar	-Super bad -To kill with malice -Premeditated and deliberate.
Third	-Super painful -Destroys all layers of skin -Require emergency medical treatment	-Not premeditated or deliberate -Due to inherently dangerous acts

So, I am confused. Why did these names . . . get these names, when they mean the opposite? Wouldn't it have made more sense for the medical community to have a little powwow with the criminal justice community and work out their differences?

I bet I know what happened. I bet a lady doctor was married to a male detective during prehistoric times. They were in charge of labeling important terms for the first edition text book that would soon be chiseled out of limestone when an argument broke out about who's turn it was was to prepare the mastodon for dinner. Lady Doctor complained that she just skinned the saber-toothed tiger the other day. Man Detective whined about how he finally mounted the woolly mammoth head in their cave after freezing the meat in Ziploc baggies. They were at an impasse. Finally, they stormed out of their caves each to write out their own text. And the rest as they say, is history.

I mean, it's just a theory.

Happy Election Day!!

Today is November 2. Election Day. Also known by some (me) as one of the most fun days of the year. I love to vote. Love it. I am wearing my "I Voted" sticker right now and am seriously considering adding it as an accessory to my outfit tomorrow so I can further enjoy this reminder of my civic duty. **Side Note: Troy knows how much I love to vote (and the sticker) so he gave me his sticker. If that ain't love then I don't know what love is.**

Our original plan was to wake up early this morning and vote before work. By doing so, I would have ample enjoyment of my "I Voted" sticker. However, as we were getting ready for bed last night and about to close our peepers, we realized that we could never get up early. Finally, I asked Troy, "You just wanna vote after work?" Troy's reply, "Yeah." Don't get me wrong, if the only opportunity we had to vote was at the butt-crack of dawn, then yes, we would have gotten up early, but if you know Troy and I at all, you are probably laughing at our attempt of waking up because we are not early risers. Even though I didn't get to enojy my sticker all day, I am thoroughly enjoying it now.

I love voting for more reasons besides that bright, red sticker . . . though that does have a huge influence on me. First of all, you have to check in. Someone has a book with your name it and wants to make sure that you are there to cast your opinion. Look at it as your community viewing you as a rock star. Not only do they want your autograph, they want your input! (And that is exactly how I view it, obviously.) I was very excited to give my name to the elderly man who was running this station. I flashed him a big toothy grin. Next, they give you a ballot and you get to go to a little cubical. I mean, basically it is like a little fort where you get to hide out. All you need is a s'more. Then, you get to choose whomever you want to for the open office. Awesomeness. There is nobody there telling you what to do. You get to pick whomever you want to. After you're done, you get to bring your ballot to this machine that sucks it up like a Hoover. (I literally had to keep myself in check. I thought it was really fun how my ballot was sucked in!) Finally, you get your sticker. The whole event makes for a great evening. I wasn't a political science major, but if you throw dinner into the mix, it sounds like a smokin' date night.

Let me get on my soap box for a minute. If you want to get under my skin, tell me you didn't vote, or don't think you want to vote. These are the same people who complain about our government. No way, José. If you don't vote, then you don't whine. If we don't exercise our right to vote, how does that make us any different from some of these other governments such as monarchies or dictatorships? Your vote does make a difference. Okay, I am stepping off of my soap box now.

Let me end this with a funny story that a teacher at my school told me this afternoon. She said that when her daughter was young she overheard her mother talking about going voting. After hearing this, she insisted upon wearing her bathing suit. Finally, her mother was tired of arguing with her and let her wear the bathing suit. When they arrived at the polling station, the daughter was clearly dejected and wanted to know where the water was. Thinking her daughter was thirsty, she pointed to the water fountain, but the daughter was not satisfied. "I thought you said we were going boating!" She exclaimed.

Whether it's boating or voting, I love it. Happy Election Day!!