Laugh Fest

One interesting fact about me is that when I laugh really hard, I lose motor functions. It is almost like the amount of energy required to fuel my laughter is so great that there is not enough power left over for my appendages to consume, thus they shut down. I first noticed this issue when I was in junior high school. My sister and I would come home from school and get started on our homework at the kitchen table. Laura would generally use this time to see how it would take her to distract me from my work (which usually wasn't very long) with jokes or funny stories from the day. After the laughing fits would run rapid and I would try to get back to my homework, I noticed that I had almost forgotten how to hold a pencil. My work would be sloppy because it was hard from me to force my fingers to make the strokes needed to communicate my answers. You could look at a piece of my work and tell when Laura and I had lost it. Numbers one through ten would be nice and neat and then eleven and twelve looked like I tried to do my work blindfolded.

As I got older, the fits started to take control of more than just my digits. My arms would turn to jelly and often times I would bend over right at the hips because my abs couldn't hold up my upper body. And then there are those rare occasions when I keel right over.

About a month ago, we went to go see my sister-in-law who was staring in a community theater play. After the show, we were lingering around the auditorium, waiting to congratulate her when Troy and I started to get bored and then we got slap-happy. Troy stood behind the back row of seats and with his hands in his pockets, he started to bend at the waist over the seat while keeping his upper body straight. He would bob a little and then come back to a standing position. He looked like one of those drinking water birds that bobs back and forth. I was laughing so hard that not only did I cross my arms and flop over at the hips, I eventually fell to the floor laughing. When I was strong enough to stand back up again, I had tears in my eyes and Troy and I felt the need to show everyone we came with Troy's funny new talent. Most people didn't find it as amusing as we did though . . . . weird.

Being home for the holidays, I have a lot of these moments when I am with Laura and Troy. We just had one a few minutes ago and it ended with me flopped on the floor in the hallway. Then Laura and Troy come out and laugh at me laughing on the floor, which just makes me laugh harder. Troy asked me what it feels like when I lose my motor functions and it wasn't until that moment that I wondered if I could really control them while laughing. If I concentrated really hard, would I still keel right over? Honestly, I don't know. What I do know is that laughing is awesome and if something is so funny that my body feels the need to commit to the laugh fest instead of holding my body up straight, then I am all about losing my motor functions.

Birds, Births and Christmas

Here we are. Christmas Day. All of the presents have been opened, and now we are just waiting to devour that stuffed bird, baking in the oven. Its smell is wafting through the house, tempting us. I wish I could say I was one of those people who could "smile because it happened" instead of "cry bcause it's over" but I'm not. In my opinion, the best part of Christmas is the anticipation of the day. I love celebrating the weeks of advent at church, playing only Christmas music in my car since the day after Thanksgiving, buying and wrapping gifts, and making our cats Molly and Olivia wear the Mrs. Claus cap and skirt that my sister Laura bought for them. I am slowing embracing the fact that now it is only a matter of days (maybe weeks if I can milk it long enough) before all the decorations get put away and we have to endure the long weeks of winter, sans Christmas cheer. That being said, I have spent the morning trying to distract myself from feeling blue with the realization that Christmas has only a few precious hours left by thinking random thoughts.

1st Random Thought: I wonder how long our Christmas tree stood erect after we left for Chicago. I am betting the cats took it down within at least a day. Thankfully, I took off the breakable ornaments before we left, predicting the inevitable outcome of our little tree.

2nd Random Thought: Why is Dradle, Dradle, Dradle stuck in my head? I'm not even Jewish. Although every time I hear that song I think of Adam Sandler and his Hanukkah song. And since it is the Festival of Lights, and I love those, maybe I should get myself a menorah.

3rd Random Thought: I wonder if Dunkin Donuts has ornaments. I would definately put that on my tree. Laura and I will have to check that out later when we go get a cup of joe.

4th Random Thought: My parents have a scale in the upstairs bathroom that us girls shared growing up. I almost got on it this morning out of curiosity, and then my common sense stepped in and told me not to. Though the numbers that would have appeared would have probably ruined my day, I keep thinking about what they would be. And then I think, what does it matter, muscle weighs more than fat and I am totally ripped, so the number would be skewed anyway.

5th Random Thought: So, Christ was born today. Well, about two thousand years ago. Thus our reason for celebrating. Every year I think about how brutal that must have been. I mean, Mary all huge and prego, is being drug down to Bethelhem on a Donkey and then gave birth surrounded by stinky animals who use the same space to sleep and relieve themselves. Gross. No epidurals there either. Ouch. I am kinda grateful that I wasn't the one picked for that job. Between my threshold for pain and my need to be clean, I would be freaking out. Although my outbursts might have made the gospels for entertaining.

Well, that's all I have so far, but the day is still young.

I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.

Awful / Awesome Gifts

One great thing about working at a school is Christmas break – excuse me, “Winter” break. The kiddoes are so darn cute the day before too. One of my kids came in this morning and greeted me with a hearty, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Carlson!” I even got a few gifts this week, which I was very surprised by. The best part about getting gifts from kids is the look on their face right before you are about to open it. You can almost feel their anxiety over whether or not you’ll like the present, which really translates in kid-language that they are anxious about whether or not you like them. Of course, you ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over everything.

The funny thing about gifts is that they can be a tricky beast. Let’s be honest, we have all gotten bad gifts. The funniest gift I ever got was meant to be a nice and meaningful gift. It was a statue of Moses with the two slabs of stone containing the Ten Commandments behind him. Come on. That’s funny. Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse (or better depending on how you look at it), it lit up and it was a fountain, both of these features run on battery power. As soon as Laura e-mails me the picture, I will post it on this blog. Trust me, it's amazing. I don’t think I owned that thing for more than ten seconds before my sister, Laura asked me if she could have it. She thought it was hilarious. And she would be right. She still proudly claims it as a piece of her beloved property. In fact she told me it is the centerpiece of her kitchen table right now and for that; I will always respect her for the fine human being she is.

One of the teachers at my school got the best gift I have ever seen a student give a teacher. It is a plastic-framed poster of three, red roses, a flute and sheet music. It is impossible to look at it without laughing. It is tacky as all get-out and the fact that the student thought that this very feminine and whimsical poster would be a great gift for Mike, is awkward and awesome all at the same time. It looks like a poster I probably would have owned myself and bought from one of those Scholastic Book Fairs circa 1992. Alright, if we are being honest here, I was totally jealous of Mike’s great gift. It was way better than the ‘Happy Easter’ glass pane with a worn out bunny that the same student gave to me a couple of weeks ago. Some guys have all the luck.

As we approach the next couple of days that are filled with gift giving, I hope you are blessed with great gifts . . . or really heinous gifts that you can laugh and blog about later.

Stuck

Well, if there is one thing on my Christmas list that I really don't have enough of, it probably wouldn't be snow, and yet that is what we are currently receiving. Even hard core Minnesotans are grumbling at the fluffy, frozen precipitation. The fact is that the Twin Cities are still recovering from the blizzard from last Saturday. There are roads that still needed a few more visits from the snow plows and the metro area is actually having trouble finding places to store all the snow. Mother Nature doesn't give a rip about that though, she felt like wrecking havoc today and so she did. It isn't as bad as the last snow storm, but enough to be a pain in the rear. Maybe Mother Nature is having relationship issues, hence the fury. Just a thought.

Anywho, my car got stuck this afternoon due to Mother Nature's man troubles. I can't think of a time where that had happened to me before. I really don't think I have ever been stuck in snow, but I did today. I was leaving my friend's house and trying to get up a hill but my little G6 didn't have the gusto to get the job done. I tried going in reverse and then putting the car in drive. I tried letting the traction control do it's thing. I tried shoveling out little tire paths with my snow scraper. Finally, when nothing else worked, I even tried shoving my face in my hands and crying. Amazingly enough that didn't get me anywhere, weird, right? I just didn't know what to do and I knew I couldn't push my car and steer all by myself. I was about to get out of the car and run back to my friend's house thinking I was going to have to stay there until the plows came, when her neighbors came walking down the road to help me. I almost hugged them. I was so relieved and would have never become un-stuck without them. After they helped me, we said our goodbyes and shouted out "Merry Christmas!" just like in the movies.

When I got home, I was still feeling pretty chipper . . . until I got stuck again. This time in my own driveway. You would think that was a good thing except my car was all hood-winked in a way where I was parked on a diagonal and Troy wouldn't have been able to get his car in the garage. I had to back my car up all the way back to the road and give myself a running head start. Then, out of frustration, I selfishly took the garage space, tired of fighting the snow in the driveway and in general. In my defense, I have been parking outside for the past month due to the tools and materials we are using for our bathroom renovation which has taken up residency in my garage space. I figured Troy's Mazda could sleep outside, just this once. Of course when I got in the house, I immediately felt guilty for taking his garage space, so I went outside to shovel the driveway so Troy wouldn't have the same trouble I did. Now I don't feel so bad. Plus the old girl (my car) needed a break. She had a very trying day. Sleeping in the garage is the car equivalent to a pedicure. She just wants cute tires! Her dogs are barking, for crying out loud. Here she is, resting in the warm garage.

Being stuck is not much fun. I guess in any scenario being stuck stinks, because even if you were on a white, sandy beach in Hawaii, if you described yourself as being "stuck" there, it would insinuate that it is against your will. Although if that is how you would describe your stay in Hawaii, you are clearly mentally unstable. The only way I could think of being 'stuck' as fun would be if the other variables involved were awesome. For example:

1. You're stuck in the airport for hours . . . but so is the entire cast of LOST and they have decided to reenact season three for you.
2. You're stuck next to a guy with bad B.O. on the bus . . . but he happens to be childhood friends with John Krasinski and he invites you to John's pool party that afternoon.
3. You're stuck in Antarctica . . . but the scientists there have a secret cave they take you to which is actually a porthole to a beach resort in Bermuda.

I think one way being stuck today would have been awesome would be if I was in Back to the Future II and just shoved a few of my lunch leftovers in my Mr. Fusion and then flew home. Problem solved. That would have been fabulous.

Swanky Night on the Town

Last night we celebrated our "observed anniversary." Our three year anniversary was on Wednesday, but who wants to celebrate on a school night? Plus we went to my very romantic school faculty Christmas party that night at Broadway Pizza. (I hope you are picking up the sarcasm here, people.) So, we postponed it until last night. The whole night was pretty much one big movie. The kind of romantic comedy that I would have totally been pumped to go see in theaters. It would have been the kind of movie that would have had me swooning during the preview and then Troy would lean over and tell me to go see that movie with my friend, Krista. That's how awesome last night was.

Troy told me that he wanted to take me to Kincaid's in St. Paul, but the earliest reservation they had was at 9:10 at night. We decided to take it. Plus in the movies, people always go out to dinner late. It makes it more swanky. We drove into the capitol city where there were twinkling Christmas lights brightening up the streets of St. Paul. We pulled into the parking garage and found a spot close to the elevators!! This was a major bonus for me who was wearing cute cocktail attire that was not at all functional for the bitter Minnesota winters. My legs and toes were exposed so that I could wear my cute black, silk skirt with my fabulous peep-toe shoes. I mean, we were going to a swanky restaurant, so I had to bust out the big guns. Another awesome part of the the evening was that we didn't even need to venture out in the cold!! The parking garage opened right up to the restaurant!! Double bonus. As we walked through the hallway to Kincaid's, there was a Christmas tree made entirely out of red and white poinsettias. It was beautiful.

The inside of the restaurant looks like a fancy hunting lodge. Red, black and white plaid carpet, shiny red and gold plaid drapes, large artwork donning the walls, antlers and fish paintings mounted around. It seemed like at any second, King Henry VIII would come waltzing in with his entourage and his wife of the season after a long afternoon of pheasant hunting. We were sat near the back of restaurant and I slid into the booth while Troy sat in the chair that had a view of the outside. Our server, Todd, made us aware of all the delicious specials of the evening, took our drink and appetizer order and left us in our cozy nook. Troy asked if I wanted to switch spots because he could see some of the Christmas lights outside. (Does that man know me well or what?) When I sat in his seat, I saw all the Christmas lights that made the skating rink outside magical! I was so excited, I may or may not have let out a little squeal and when I happened to glance at a table near us, I saw an old man look at me with amusement. I guess not too many people get excited about Christmas lights these days.

I decided to order the mahi-mahi with lobster over a bed of fluffy Yukon Gold mashed potatoes complemented by crispy asparagus. When I ordered, Todd said, "Excellent choice." Just like in the movies!! We began our meal with fried calamari and bread that was so good, I thought I was going to melt under the table while I chewed. Troy ordered a delicious steak and we shared parts of our meals all while using impeccable table manners and laughing gaily at the other's clever comments. Since it was a swanky anniversary dinner, we had to get desert. At Todd's suggestion, we ordered a decadent chocolate cake with icing that was warmed up to the point of it almost being liquid. Then Todd drizzled hot fudge over top that was the perfect mix of sweetness and bitterness and Troy and I found ourselves dipping our fingers in the small gravy boat that housed the leftover fudge.

We left the restaurant feeling full and very swanky. Then we drove around St. Paul listening to Christmas music and looking at Christmas lights. We even saw the leg lamp from A Christmas Story in one of the front windows!! You better believe we backtracked so we could see it again. Pure awesomeness. Besides our wedding day, this may have been the next best night ever. I thought for sure Rob Reiner was going to jump out from under the table or the back seat of our car and yell, "Cut! Let's try this scene again." But Rob never did. I was the lead female role in my own movie last night and I am pretty sure I am going to win an Academy Award for that category. I am also feeling pretty confident that Troy is a shoe-in for best actor in a leading role. Look for us at the ceremony. We'll be the swanky ones . . . . winning.





Night photo of Marcy in St. Paul taken from www.mitchster.com which is a super cool website that had great photos of the Twin Cities.

Sassy Pam

Penelope is a character on Saturday Night Live and is known for being the "one up-pper." You can't have a normal conversation with her because she is so irritating. She has always done something better than you, her sob stories are always more heart-wrenching and honestly, you just want to kick her in the shins when she is talking to you. I feel like lately I am surrounded by Penelopes. It seems like it doesn't matter which social circle I am in, I will share something that I might be stressed or excited about and someone has to come in and announce to the group their tale which makes what I have shared completely lame.

In the past, I would have described myself as quiet - maybe even passive. Unfortunately, "Pam's Penelopes" are sucking the joy out of my life which is slowly creating a monster. Instead of being Sweet Pam, I am turning into Sassy Pam. I will be sharing a story, someone comes in and one-up's me, and then I get sassy. The worst part of it is that many times, the words fly out of my mouth before I have had time to assess the damage they may create. Thankfully, I am new to the Sassy Pam title, so my verbal assaults are fairly harmless . . . for now. Just as iron sharpens iron, my tongue gets a little more dangerous with each one-upper interaction. I am fearful that someday I won't have any control.Thankfully, I am addressing this issue now.

I don't know really how Sassy Pam evolved, but I do have my theories. One is that I have usually been easy going and "the nice person" so people took advantage of that. It is in my humble opinion that the Nice Guy really does finish last. For example, last week I had class and because my school is downtown, I have to park in a parking garage. I saw this really great spot open and it was right near the exit, so I followed the arrows and drove the correct way to get there, only to find out some yahoo had cheated and drove the wrong way to beat me to it!! I was so mad!! Who does that?! Maybe Sassy Pam came from the stresses of work, family, school, etc. But unbeknown to the fools to take advantage of the nice guy, the irritation starts to bubble and brew up inside of us and it is not until there is an explosion does the ebb of frustration occur.

Currently, I am in the process of trying to avoid that explosion. I am sure it would not be pretty nor lady-like should I fly off the handle. June Cleaver would definitely not approve of such an outburst so I need to formulate a plan for when I encounter those one-uppers. So far, my only idea is to do push ups. (I can actually do awesome push-ups, not the lame, girly ones on my knees.) I am thinking that these one-uppers drive me so crazy that I need to release that anger somehow and perhaps the best way is kinesthetically. I don't really have any other ideas at this point.

So, let this be a warning to all you one-uppers out there. I probably won't ever tell you to your face that you are in fact this particular breed, but you will know if you if I randomly bust out a few sets of push ups and if that is the case, you may want to slowly exit the room before there is an explosion. Or (here's a crazy thought), you could just listen politely to what I am telling you instead of being another Penelope. Consider yourself warned.

Pockets

This past weekend, Troy and I went to his company Christmas party at a restaurant in Minneapolis called Jax. The party has been held there for the past few years. It is really fun to see everyone that Troy works with and their spouses. The food is delicious and the bartenders make great tips that night. My favorite part about the party is that we get to dress up. It almost feels like we are attending a cocktail party from the 50's, which of course, is right up my alley.

I bought a new outfit for the party. A silk, razor-back, black top tucked into a flattering black skirt. I loved the outfit. I felt very classy. The best part about the outfit was - hands down - the pockets in the skirt. Whenever I try on a dress or a skirt and it has pockets, it totally makes the outfit so much better. My friend even had pockets in her wedding dress this summer, which in my opinion, only made her dress that much more awesome.

Pockets in general are like cozy friends. They warm your hands, they hold on to your chap stick and when you are feeling awkward, they allow you to put your fidgety digits in their hidden cove. I had a couple of pairs of dresspants that didn't have pockets. I never knew what to do with myself when I wore them. Where do I put my chapstick? Where do I shove my hands? I eventually got rid of those pants, mostly because I hated that they didn't have pockets. Someone who bought them from Goodwill is now struggling with the same issues I had with them. Although there is a very good possibility that the new pocket-less pants owner is not quite as neurotic as me . . . . . Who even makes pants without pockets? The same people who weren't hugged enough as children. That's who. Because pockets are a wardobe's way of telling us that we are cared for. Who doesn't love that?

Everyone loves pockets. Think of all the great things named after pockets: pocket watch, Polly Pocket, pita pockets, Hot Pockets, etc. I think one of the reasons why pockets are so great is because of the word's German root, which means bag. Just a thought.

With that, I'll leave you with a song:

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away.
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day.

See, even Perry Como thought pockets were awesome.