Christmas

At Christmas, we went to NH for a few days. Here is my gingerbread house version of the Caissie abode.
More Christmas pictures on the way.

Ready to blow

Lately, things have been insane. I have a huge stack of papers to grade, tests to give, gigs to play/sing/dance, holiday stuff to do, and a dissertation to revise (which I haven't even looked at in two weeks). The only reason I have a moment to type this is because I'm giving a final as we speak. It's a little sad when the only time you have to yourself is when you're at work.

I'm not really complaining. Things could be much worse, of course, in the grand scheme of things. However, I do feel the need to apologize to anyone who I've threatened to kick, punch, verbally abuse, or otherwise offend in the past week or so. Really, things will be better next week and I won't be on a murderous rampage. Special apologies to the cat, who is on her "pre-holiday diet," also known as "I keep forgetting to feed her."

You may have noticed a distinct lack of photos on our previously photo-rich blog. That's because our digital camera is possessed. Sometimes it turns on but won't take pictures. Sometimes it turns on but spouts random words, like "Memory card full!" when there isn't even a memory card in it. Sometimes it just doesn't turn on at all. In other words, it's broken. So if you get a new camera for Christmas and you're looking to unload your old one for an inconceivably low price, we're your customers.

We did manage to get our tree up on Wednesday night (we started at 10:30 at night...you take the time you can, right?), which looks great. It took the cat a whole ten seconds to obliterate our Gary the Snail ornament. I would post a picture of the tree, but...you know...

Additions

Two more additions to the Dad list, courtesy of the family at dinner last night:

5. When I was in high school, the infamous inbreeding episode premiered on X-files. You know the one I'm talking about. It's the one where they keep the deformed, limbless mother on a roller under the bed. I watched it and was completely freaked out. Anyone who knows me well knows that I can't watch scary movies or shows. I have a very active imagination, and I stay awake all night imagining whatever zombie or alien I'd just seen on TV is in my room, waiting to attack. Apparently this time, Dad forgot about my delicate consistency. After the show, I was in my parents' bedroom talking with my mother, sitting on their bed. Dad decided it would be a great idea to roll out from underneath the bed to scare me. Well, this seventeen-year-old immediately burst into tears. He says he still feels bad about that.

6. One from the "That Just Happened" files: apparently Dad was transporting a crock pot full of clam chowder to an event a few weeks ago when the whole thing spilled into the front seat of his truck. That's bad enough, but he didn't clean it for a week. Then, when he finally deigned to get off his butt and drive to get some products with which to clean the festering mess, the truck died and he had to subject a poor, defenseless mechanic to the smell of rotting clams and cream.

For Dad

He said he couldn't think of anything weird, so for today's show, we have: Weird Things Dad Has Said or Done.

1. There is the ubiquitous Dad quote, "just like a rubber band!" The story: he snapped his Achilles' tendon in an ill-fated Christmas Day football game and his telling of the story always included that fateful phrase, which is how he described the feeling of the tendon snapping.

2. We also can't forget the "six-foot tall deer" he saw in the neighbor's yard one day. (He is slightly prone to exaggeration, if you haven't guessed.)

3. One of my favorite stories from childhood: once I was riding with him in the car when the song "Oh Won't You Stay Just a Little Bit Longer" came on the radio. The man sings very high in one of the verses, so I asked, "Dad, how can that guy sing so high?" Dad's response: "He had an operation." For years I thought he meant that he actually had an operation on his vocal cords...sometime in high school or college it occurred to me that it was an entirely different type of operation Dad was alluding to.

4. Another one from the childhood vault: Josh and I were eating watermelons one day when Josh swallowed a seed. Panicking, he ran in to ask Dad what would happen, and Dad told him that a watermelon would grow in his stomach. After assuring Josh that he was kidding, Josh appeared to forget about it--until the next day when Dad took Josh to the supermarket. As luck would have it, the headline on the National Enquirer was "Boy Grows Tree Out of Stomach," which featured an accompanying photo. I think Josh may still be scarred from that one.

Any others from the peanut gallery?

High Five!

A friend gave me some photos from Jay's party and this series caught my eye. The scene plays out in the background of a conversation between me and Kristin. In the first picture, Josh is giving a rather unenthusiastic high five to no one:
In the next, he rachets up the enthusiasm, but alas, no one responds:
Finally, a victorious high five!
The high-fiving actually continues for several more pictures before it descends into some sort of weird high-foreheading:
It also looks a little like I have Josh's head coming out of my cup in the last one, which delights me.

Oh Lordy, Who Started This?

1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog. Alex at Celexo's Rite to Write tagged me.

2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.

1) My hidden talent: I can whistle songs with my hands. I learned it from a Klutz book called "How to annoy your parents" when I was twelve. It impresses small children and drunk people to no end.

2) I am absolutely obsessed with mountaineering books. I can list the seven summits and all fourteen 8,000 meter peaks. I can also detail several routes up Everest. So if you're on Everest and you get lost, give me a call. I might not be able to help you much, but I'll be so excited to talk to someone on Everest, even if he's in his final hours.

3) I once got pulled over by a policeman who asked (without even bothering to leave his car) if I'd "had a brain fart." (My answer: a teary "yeeeess!")

4) My favorite TV show is America's Funniest Home Videos. Because an dose of "grannies getting hit in the head with giant lawn toys" cures all ills.

5) I'm a vegetarian, but I don't really like salad. I only eat it if I've done something stupid earlier in the day, like eat Snickers for breakfast. Not that I do that...often.

6) I have a really cool idea for a pre-teen novel and someday I'm going to put it on paper. But! I'm not telling you my idea! It's a secret!

7) I sing to my cat constantly. Sometimes she gets recitative, sometimes she gets an aria. Most often she gets a variation on "Clementine" or "O Tannenbaum."

3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog. I'm changing the rules here because I'm anti-chain; if you're reading this and you have a blog, consider yourself tagged. (That's you, Dad and Josh.)

Jay's Birthday Party

Saturday night was Jay's 30th birthday party. It was a rousing success. You know you've thrown a good party when you were having too much fun to take pictures. I managed to snap exactly one:
This is a prime example of why you should never indulge in rum-induced photography. Note that no one's entire head is visible and the focus of the picture seems to be the floor.

Jen managed a few more than I did, including these two pictures of the parents playing Rock Band:
Mom Caissie was a hit on the drums (oh no, she didn't just make that pun!). People kept coming up to me, saying, "your mom rocks at drums!" As you can see in the above photo, rocking at drums takes a lot of concentration. Sadly, only one photo of Jay from his own party has turned up so far, and in it, he is displaying some inappropriately doctored cupcakes, so you won't be seeing that photo here.

The cat made a spectacular appearance late in the evening. Anyone who has ever caught a glimpse of our cat knows that she is extremely skittish around strangers and prefers to hide under the bed rather than socialize. Well, apparently she was behind the couch when guests started arriving, and must have sat there paralyzed with fear for many hours. Around midnight she decided to make a break for it and took off at a full run through the living room and dining room towards the bedroom. Once she hit the linoleum in the kitchen, it was all over. She careened into several cabinets and, in a blind panic, ineffectively pumped her legs like she was on a treadmill gone haywire. That was the last we saw of her that night.

It was a fun time. Lots of people came and we managed to wipe out over a hundred bottles of beer and several bottles each of rum and whiskey. There were many fights over the musical worthiness of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra and an embarassing photo of Jay as a child surfaced. Thanks to everyone for coming!

Priorities

This article caught my eye--I see a lot of babies in strollers at work (usually expensive "travel systems"), but I found myself appalled for the wrong reasons. Please take a long, hard look at the photo in the article. Why is anyone worrying about the stroller when it is plain to see that the child has a mohawk? If you want to developmentally delay your child, screw the stroller, give him an unfortunate haircut. But that is nothing compared with the horrors of the parent--what on earth are those pants? Is that some kind of wonky zebra pattern? Could they really be MC Hammer pants? And the big question--why is he out in public wearing them, never mind allowing journalists to photograph him in them?

Wish List

I was recently asked what I'd like for Christmas, so here's my wish list for the year.

An Irish penny whistle:

Then I can frolic like a leprechaun. Won't that be fun!

Music books: The Real Book (Hal Leonard publishing) in C, Jamey Aebersold Play-Along books in C (any except Maiden Voyage, I have that one already)

A new music stand. A nice one. Mine is sad. I have one that won't go higher than waist level and one that slowly slides down when I use it.

Rock climbing stuff: a headlamp is at the top of my list. Or a Boston Rock Gym gift card or membership.

Cute dresses: Everyday dresses or teaching-worthy dresses (nothing evening). Size small (4 is safe). I'm girly, I like shoes and bags too (though preferably not leather).

Jewelry: cheap Art Deco costume jewelry from the antique store are my favorites. I have a few marcasite (faceted metal) pieces that I really love that look similar to this:

Sign of the Approaching Apocalypse

Oldies 103 has started playing Christmas music allllll day. On November 6th! Excuse me while I attempt to ward off a psychotic break.