Cousins’ Christmas

Last night was the annual Cousins' Christmas exchange. Since there are sooo many kids in our family, each kid draws the name of a cousin, and makes one gift. The kids love the gift making; they get so excited to show off what they made, and what they can do.

We all get together-- this year at Château Schock-- and the kids open their gifts, one by one. It's fabulous.

Trevor was Katie's secret Santa this year.Trevor says, "Happy holidays, everybody!"

Harry was Colin's secret Santa this year.Harry says, "Merry Christmas to all!"

Sydney was Allyson's secret Santa.Sydney says, "There is no Dana, only Zuul!"

My arse hates me.

It grows, like some forgotten, mammoth zuchini, hiding beneath the leaves of my clothing. I know it. I can feel it THINK about getting larger. It's the oddest sense.

These arse thoughts are pervasive. They intrude upon every waking moment. Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. Cream Cheese anything. The entire family of Mexican foods. I'll be sitting here, working away, coding, creating images, in a meeting, driving-- WHEREVER-- and suddenly the arse thoughts begin. Images flood my brain while whispers of "Embiggen me," flutter in the background.

Lemon Merangue Pie. Coffee. Chocolate. Cream cheese anything again.

...embiggennn.... And it always sounds like such a good idea.

My bed loves me.

It doesn't like me to leave it in the morning. I know this because it whispers sweet nothings as I lay there, just moments before the screaming red blare of the alarm takes hold of my senses. My goose-down pillow with its flannel pillow case cradles my head lovingly and soothingly. Perfection.

The fog outside is like a voyeur, pressing against the window pane. I can feel it watching, waiting for me to stumble from the enveloping comfort into the cold, forbidding bathroom to wait for the shower. Why would I want put on a peep show for the weather outside? I wouldn't. That's sick. Sicko fog.

My bed loves me. I will stay where I am ALL DAY LONG.

...*sigh*...

The holidays are here

The cheerful music, the sparkling decorations, the specialty coffees at Starbucks. All these things tell me that the holiday season is upon us. But mostly I can tell this because people suck.

I went to Savemart this evening to buy groceries. The Bee Gees were crooning in an unnatural falsetto over the sound system. My daughter toddled along with me, pushing a miniature shopping cart and insisting on filling her tiny, "Customer in Training" basket with our comestibles. Those who have known the subtle, easy-going demeanor of a toddler know that you gotta pick your windmills.

Syd then ran straight for the bulk candies and snarked down a fist-full of candy corns before I could wrench her away from the bin. My gawd, she is so my daughter.

Other than her highness having various issues with virtually everything-- declaring each item at eye-level as "mine"; the sudden change of heart from one direction and the immediate scurry across the store in the dead-opposite direction; and her ability to develop spaghetti limbs at random-- the trip was typical. We had a delightful time. Really.

So we go to get in line-- I, the mother of the beautiful, sunshine girl, and she, the ruler of all humanity-- whereupon some sneaky woman promptly and unceremoniously cuts in front of us in line. Throwing the elbow, no less!

She was really sinister, too, because after she juked her way past me, she tried to fake-out the woman ahead of me. No go there. Still, I didn't seem to mind, I mean-- she was buying a can of Maxwell House. That's all. One lousy can of one lousy coffee. Clearly the woman had no taste to begin with, neither figuratively nor literally.

So the line is long and snaky and another clerk comes forward, and opens a new line. This puts me second in line to the juker, who promptly rammed her way in front of me YET AGAIN. But here's the surprising part: Yet another woman tried to squeeze her corpulent self in front of me in line. AND she had a cart full of stuff.

Well, no sir, I would not stand for this and I actually said so, quite forcefully... in my brain. Out loud, my voice-- not unlike the Bee Gees overhead-- squeaked, "Excuse me, but I was next."

"WHHAAATT??" said Mrs. Big-boned, eyes a-bulgin'. "Are you ACTUALLY saying YOU'RE NEXT?!"

"Yes." This made her spittin' mad. So for fun, I added, smiling, "I'm next." What was she expecting me to say? Oops, no, since you yelled at me threateningly over your tub of "I Can't Believe People Actually Eat This Crap," I'm going to back down? That I'm going to let you and your Barbara Bush eyes thrust your way ahead of me the way I allowed the tasteless juker to do? No ma'am. No ma'am. I wasn't going to stand for it.

Before I could squeak anything more, her husband chimed in with, "Aww, honey let her go. She's just got that tiny little cart." It was like a movie. We all turned and looked at the ridiculously small, miniscule "Customer in training" shopping cart, at my bunch of bananas, yogurt, ziploc bags and Syd's puppy.

Dramatic pause.

SYD! Where was Syd??

Panic sets in as I realize I had lost sight of my little tornado for a total of 3 seconds. Was I crazy?? She could have dismantled the entire cereal aisle in that time!

"I right here, mommy," says a small voice, peering from behind a display of Krispy Cremes. Awww, she IS my girl.

I scamper over, grab my beautiful monkey all wrapped snuggly in her lavendar faux-fur coat, and kiss her sticky cheeks.

Jabba the Bulgy Eyed, whose veins are now so large and throbbing so intensely they're obscurring the store's flourescent lighting, grumbles loudly in that bricka-brakca-fricka-fracka Fred Flintstone kinda-way, and lumbers over to another aisle.

The song changes to a cheery jingle about an elderly woman being carelessly trampled by a group of heathen deer. Holiday lights shine. Tinsel glows. The air drips with good intention.

And that's how I really know it's the holiday season: People suck.

Training thoughts & tips

I learned from last week's horrendous riding failure and actually wore clothing on my ride this morning. Proper clothing. Let me say this:

* The $120 I spent on the steel girder riding shorts might as well been shoved up my a--... ear, for all the good it did me. What the hell, man? Seriously-- this is a flippin' SPORT. My bike was 1/4 of what I spent on my CAR. (The car I had in college, but still.) There are people who ride all the time, in all kinds of weather-- am I the only one asking about this rump issue? That is IT, man. I am so getting a banana seat.

* No matter how properly you may dress for the cold, it doesn't make up for being a big lazy dork the week before. It just doesn't. My muscles were warm, I was excited to be out there, I even ate an energy bar before heading out. All of this, while good, couldn't possibly overcome the fact that I sat on my arse most of the week before. THINKING about riding, apparently, is not the same as ACTUAL riding.

*No more fast food. I hate it. It's greasy and gross, and ohmyGAWD the Big Mac I had last week was heaven. (It's the second one I've had in the last 7 years). They should call them the Crack Mac--you have one and the next thing you know you're jonesing for them. NO MORE. And no more pizza, plain cheese or otherwise. I won't do it. Maybe.

I got a note from my riding buddy, a woman who works for LifeCycle and coordinates events. Technically, she's like hundreds of people's riding buddy. Anyway, I leave you all with this interesting training tip:

"Many of you have been out training even as the temperatures begin to drop. This is great, but we want to make sure you are taking care of yourselves out there.especially your knees! If the temperature dips below 70 it's important to cover your knees when you're out riding. Why? Because your knees are vulnerable when exposed to the elements! If your knees are cold, blood flow is reduced, and the sinovial fluid (the lubricant around your knees) becomes less fluid. This lack of circulation can lead to micro-tears in the connective tissue (the stuff that's helping you bend and straighten your legs with every turn of the pedal), which can lead to more serious damage down the road."