holy apocolypse, batman!

Due to my total inability to plan ahead, and coupled with an ever-growing oral fixation issue, I found it unavoidably necessary to walk up to 7-11 at 8 o'clock at night for cigarettes during a freaking blizzard.

I live a block and a half from Colfax. Colfax is the street you go to for a good, greasy burrito, pizza by-the-slice or a hooker. Colfax is always busy. Tonight, as I crossed Colfax, there was only one car to be seen in either direction--and it was broken down. There were people just walking right down the middle of the street. There were quite a few pedestrians out tonight (damn tobacco companies! We should all sue for frostbite injuries!). It was, in a word, apocalyptic.

IT GAVE ME THE SHIVERS.*

I should also add that as I walked out the front door, I stepped into snow up to my knees. Not that I'm all super-model tall or anything, but up to my knees? Seriously? And it hasn't even begun to slow yet.

Tomorrow my kids are going to teach me how to make a snowman.

*God, I hope someone** gets that reference.

**Besides Molly, of course. I know you get it, dude.

it's beginning to look a lot like a blizzard...

...or: Why you should finish your Christmas shopping well before December 20th.

There are, what, 5 days left until Christmas? I am no where near done shopping. Good thing God hates Christmas and is currently dumping a few feet of snow on Denver.



Now all anyone is getting is bubble wrap*.

My kids have been students of Denver Public Schools for 4 years now, and this is the first snow day they have ever had. There were super excited. Now they are on each others' nerves. Five kids + one blizzard + no Robitussin = two sad mommies**.

It is frightening good timing on the part of the USPS that they delivered this to me yesterday:

Five boxes. From Canada. Contents? Boots, sweaters, coats, clothing. Yippee Ka Ay motha fucka!

They also delivered this:

From this stunning boy:

Must be nice to be a supermodel and shit.

Molly also came through in a big way with the CD's:


There are actually 4 CD's but one was in the car and I am a lazy schmuck. Thanks, Molls. You're totally going to heaven.

My darling daughter has been very, very sick but awoke this morning without the fossilized boogies she has had encrusted to her big fat cheeks all week. The hellish screaming was kept at a minimal today. I think she is on the mend. Which is good news for her, 'cause I was starting to doubt she was going to make it to see her second birthday.

Hey, if you talk to Santa, will you tell him that L really, truly only wants her two front teeth? That would be great.

Oh, yeah, one other thing. I went crazy ass shopping yesterday with my two favorite girls and am sitting here typing right now in a pair of the hottest jeans the world has ever known or ever will know. It's good you can't see me...you would totally have to make out with me if you did. I couldn't be helped. They're that hot.

More on shopping day later. I have to go drink hot chocolate***.

*Bubble wrap is not only a perfectly fine gift, but I think it is on my top ten all time favorite gifts, to both give and receive. So back off.

**Where's those Schnapps?

***Seriously, where is that bottle of Peppermint Schnapps already?

early morning philosophy

B: "Mom, do you think anything is possible?"

Mom: "No, I think some things are flat out impossible."

B: "Like what?"

Mom: "Can you fly?"

B: "Not yet."

Mom: "OK. Can a pig fly? You can tape all the wings you want to a pig. It will never achieve flight. Or sing. Ain't no way a pig's ever gonna sing."

B: "Mom, I can invent a flying machine. And maybe pigs can sing. How do you know?"

Mom: "Good point. You quitting picking your nose? Impossible!"

B: "I did quit, maaaawm!"

Mom: "Dude, I saw you pick your nose yesterday."

B: "Maaawm, I quit today!"

Mom: "Sure you did, B, sure you did."

B: "See, mom, nothing's impossible."

Mom: "T listening to him mom for once? Huh? What about that one?"

B: "OK, almost nothing is impossible."

two posts in one day

It's a Christmas miracle!

So, Friday. Friday, my friends are hosting this Hanukkah party thing, which most of our PTA will be attending. To my friends I would like to offer some advice...if your last name is pronounced the same way as one of the cruder words for a certain part of the mail* anatomy, maybe naming your kid Maya isn't the nicest thing to do. I'm just saying.

Bygones.

The party. The party is semi-formal, which I read to mean dark suits and cocktail dresses, maybe not floor-length dresses, but nice. I can totally do that.

The dress I am going to attempt to wear is a beautiful little number hand made by my friend the seamstress, with a flowy, ivory, just below the knee, empire-waste bottom half and a top half with, um, no back and the front made of a fairly deconstructed black fabric intertwined with black leather straps. It's industrial, in a virginal sort of way.

This dress is WAY hotter than I am.

I have two things I need help with.

One: Do I go with the flesh toned make-up and bright red lipstick, and pair it with bright red high heels, or do I go with dark dark make-up, no lipstick and black high heels? I have a date to this shin-dig (who may or may not back out at the last minute) and though he is the kind of date who will barely be willing to put out a handshake, I do know that he kind of has a shoe thing and so the proper shoes are key to the outfit. And the shoes will dictate the make-up. So choose wisely. Goth or Amsterdam. Your call.

Two: Since the baby stopped nursing a few months back, my dearest boobies have returned to a size that no longer warrants them a place in the axis around our planet's sun. This is wonderful news as far as the dress goes, because the front of it dips kind of, well, low. Like rib-cage low. So yeah! for just enough but not too much cleavage. Except that they don't exactly like to stay up here where they should. They say the air is too thin, but I just think they're lazy. Point is, they don't do so well without a little support, if you know what I mean. And backless low cut hooker dress doesn't seem to want to play along with the bras I keep introducing it to. Do I bust out the staple gun? Anyone have a miracle bra suggestion?

I should add that the hair will be up and I am going jewelry-less, in case that influences your advice.

Now click on the comment box and help a girl out. Please.

*see comments section to continue hazing yours truly for my utter lack of knowledge about anything slightly male. MALE. See, it's all coming back to me now.