Happy Holidays (Oh No She Didn't!)

You know how you can tell it's time for Christmas?
No, not lighted trees?
No, not the smell of gingerbread?
Nope, not even the cards that have started arriving in the mail.

It's the "Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays" debates that screams it's that time of the year.

I've never understood the drama between the two. I'm a Christian. Love me some God. But if someone said "Happy Holidays" to me as I left a store, i wouldn't be offended and yell, "Heathen, how dare you take Christ out of Christmas." Wanna know a secret? I've actually opted for Happy Holidays cards over Merry Christmas ones. No, i wasn't trying to enrage Rush Limbaugh, i just preferred the Happy Holidays design.

Did the folks who i sent it too get enraged? I doubt it. and seriously, have you ever actually met anyone who refers to their Christmas Tree as a "holiday tree", "holiday stick" or "holiday bush?" I didn't think so. Heck, most folk i know just call it "the tree." They say: "putting up the tree." "Just got up the tree." "gotta take the tree down." Where's the outrage at this!

I worked retail for 5 looooonnnngggg years. And never once was i told that i couldn't say Merry Christmas. Heck, as long as i got my quota of Target credit card apps they could care less what i was saying. For all they know i was wishing folks a Merry Hitler day. Honey Badger don't care, and either did Target.

I find it comical that folks think not saying Merry Christmas is ruining the holiday. I find it comical that folks think non-Christians shouldn't put a tree, or exchange gifts. I don't have the Holy Book memorized, but i don't recall in verses talking about Jesus and Paul heading out on black friday, macing some lady for a Tickle Me Elmo and then rushing home to wrap all their loot and put it under the tree.

Actually, the Jesus i know and love is less concerned about whether folks are saying "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" and more concerned with how we are treating each other.

Of course this battle will return next year, and the year after, and the year after. There will continue to be 1,000 Facebook posts talking about how i have a CHRISTmas tree and CHRISTmas gifts, yada yada. And that's ok. Because it gives me something to blog about...and something for God to laugh at. Because honestly, if those of us who believe in Christ truly think he's stressing over how cashiers are bidding us farewell during the winter months, we need to hit the Book again.

The end of an era

Soooo, the Oxford Dictionary has decided to remove "cassette tape" from the dictionary. Does this mean this is no longer a thing? That these are no longer words when put together? What's next, Pluto?

Yeah, cassette tapes are outdated (i still use a VCR to tape my soaps so i can totally see my self using a cassette tape), but just because something is outdated, should it automatically get the boot? Maybe. Maybe not. It sad enough that the younger generations won't know the sweet pleasures of listening to KJ 103 all day just so you can press Play Record when they FINALLY play your jam (it always ticked me off when the DJ would be talking during the song. I wanna hear Boyz II Men, not TJ and Tooker).

What i find funny is Oxford is axing cassette tape, but is adding: woot, jeggings and mankini.
Ok, i'll give them "woot" because I say it all the time. But Jeggings and Mankini? These things should have never been invented let alone acknowledged enough to be put in the dictionary. And what happens when they (hopefully soon) go out of style? Will Oxford remove them and replace them with the next terrible fad only worn by the Jonas Brothers?

I'm curious if Oxford lists the definition of "dictionary" because those are way more outdated than cassette tapes.

Just give me a dang drank!

You know what i CAN'T stand at a restaurant or food joint?
When they don't have the drink options clearly listed somewhere and so you ask "What do you have to drink." And the waiter/waitress replies "We have Coke products."

Ummm, that's means NOTHING to me! I haven't worked in fast food in 13 years, and even then i couldn't have named any other Coke product other than COKE. The only thing i know about "Coke Products" is that Dr. Pepper is not a Coke Product. And the only reason i know this because OU only had Mr. Pibb -- the poor man's Dr. Pepper. (RC is the poor man's Coke -- i, like most black folks, prefer RC Cola!).

Anywhoo.

Maybe i'm just ignorant and the only person in the world who doesn't have all the Coke products memorized. But is it seriously too hard to just freaking list the drink options.

Yesterday i had a stare down with the lady in the Subway Drive Thru. All of the drive thru window they have listed what my chip options are, my dressing options, cheese, dressings, veggies, etc. But no where did they have listed the drink options.

Samich Chick: What do you want to drink?
ReRe: What do you have?
Samich Chick: We have Coke products.
ReRe: Ok. What are they.

She then goes over to the drink spout -- cus SHE doesn't even have them memorized -- and reads them off to me.

ReRe: I'll take a Fruit Punch.
Samich Chick: We are out of that.

Diggity Dang!

Crap happens -- and ruins blogs!

So I've been getting a lot of crap lately about my irregular blogging. I'm not gonna call anyone out (cristina, james, emily, terah, kasie), but they know who they are.
In my defense, my mornings are jammed packed ever since a 15 pound meat loaf named River came into my life. Every morning i have every intention of blogging, but that doesn't always happen.

Let me tell you a story i like to call: Monday, April 4, 2011.

All weekend I was thinking about my blog topics for the week. I knew exactly what i was going to blog about Monday, April 4, 2011. I was actually on track to get to write the post. And then crap happened. Literally. CRAP.
Before i go there, let me give you a peek at what the mornings usually look like:

4:20 a.m. alarm goes off so i can hook up the the dairy machine (also known as pumping so my boy can eat at day care)
4:45 a.m. i actually wake up to hook up to the dairy machine
5:15 a.m. finish pumping, but on my gym clothes
5:30 a.m. head to the gym to work off 9 months of River and 29 years of living the delicious life
6:15 a.mish return from gym. cook breakfast for the hubby and me. while james feeds river cuddle my boy
6:45 blog (but doesn't always happen)
7:00 shower
7:20-7:50 hair, makeup, get dressed, cuddle my boy more while daddy gets him dressed
7:50-8:10 hook up to dairy machine again
8:10-8:15 pack diaper bag
8:15 leave for work, drop river off at daycare, work by 8:30

That's the usual. except on Mondays when James goes to work at 7 a.m. So that brings us to Monday, April 4, 2011.
I'm on track to get my blog in. I've got River in his high chair, i'm feeding him some cereal with one hand, also using that hand to feed myself some cereal (not his, but some special k) while i'm also hooked to the dairy machine. All is going well. I've got 10 more mins on the dairy machine, i'm going to dress Riv and go blog.

Rewind.
When i put River in his highchair, i noticed a funny smell. I didn't know what it was or where it was coming from. I figured it was his double chin (babies get funky chins/necks sometimes when drool and milk get stuck in the rolls) so i figured i'd just wipe him down real good.
We finish breakfast. I take him to the room, strip him, wipe off the funk, lotion him up and put his clothes on. I pick him up to cuddle him and realize he still smells funky. then i notice a tiny blob of poo on the changing table. That's weird. I had just checked his diaper and he was clean. But there was poop on the changing table. I take off his clothes and check his diaper again. No poop, BUT a big poop blob on his back. Weird. So now poop is on his outfit, back and changing table. But not a drop in his diaper. It's like the poop jumped from his crack to his back.

A voice, maybe it was God, told me to go look in his highchair. Oh that voice. I go take a peek and yowza, holy poopalooza. The highchair is covered. How did i miss this? How did i not know that it was his butt, not his multiple chins making that funk. So now there's poop on his outfit, back, changing table, high chair and floor (yes, the poop had seeped from the high chair to the floor). Oh wait, it's also on my hand. There goes blogging. It's amazing how one poop can take you from being 20 minutes ahead of schedule to 40 minutes behind.
I clean us up first, put him in the swing (the naughty swing at that moment -- just kidding!) and then clean up the rest. Easier said than done. For the life of me i can't get the dang highchair cover off so i can wash it (wash it along with the vibrating chair cover that he pooped on the day before). I'm trying to unfasten it, but the only thing that that's coming off is poop -- onto my hand. I'm saying choice words. Cursing Fisher Price for making the dang chair so difficult, cursing sweet potatoes for making River's poop so dang gross these days. And curing the blogging gods because yet again I wasn't going to get to blog.

I finally opt to just put the chair in the garage and wait for James to figure out how to take the cover off (it went in the garage b/c i felt that was more sanitary than leaving it in my kitchen covered in poop funk).

I was proud of myself though. I was able to get to work on time. But no, there was no blog.
But you know what, don't blame me. Any time you don't see a new post, blame this guy: