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Posts Tagged ‘Holidays’

Hey Y’all!

It’s that time of year.

My birthday is coming up.

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Gideon said something funny the other day.

Him: It must be great to have a birthday close to Christmas: More presents!

Me: (head explodes)

No, it’s not great to have a birthday near Christmas. In general, no one cares about your birthday because CHRISTMAS.

When someone DOES remember?

Here’s your birthday AND Christmas present.

In Santa wrap.

It’s not fun.

That’s not to say there haven’t been good birthday moments.

Trish the Human planned a scavenger hunt (with help from Ed and Eddie).

And 36-hour Tina always sends me a treat for my birthday and often meets up with me in New York to share the big day.

Tina knows the way to my heart.

Friends once threw me a half-birthday party in June. (Thank you, Heidi, Mark, Venessa and Bob.)

But these are just a few fun times, and I’m old. You see what I’m saying.

What’s that?

You want to make it up to me?

Sure you do.

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Follow this link and donate money so that my favorite band, Jesse’s Divide, can make their first album. Yes, I’ve mentioned them before. Repeatedly.

Why is this a gift for me?

If they get the money, they make an album with new music. That makes me happy.

When the world returns to normal, they will tour to support it. Likely in the United States. That also makes me happy.

So be a pal and help my pals. They aren’t asking for much. I don’t think I am either.

These guys are great. I promise.

Thank you!

Love,
The Soon-to-be Birthday Girl

 

 

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Dear People Who Visited Chattanooga Last Weekend:

I will not be surprised AT ALL when you get the ‘Rona. You took no precautions. I was, quite frankly, horrified.

Yes, we visited too, but we took ample precautions:

  1. We stayed in our four-person bubble.
  2. We stayed at a reputable hotel.
  3. We wore masks everywhere but the hotel room and the car.
  4. We washed our hands and sanitized ourselves regularly.

You, however, did NOT do all of those things.

Example 1: Dinner Friday night

After we went to see a movie (yes, in a theater for the first time since February*), we went to Big River Grille for our reservation. We ran a gauntlet featuring about 15 unmasked people around the door.

I felt like a celebrity on a perp walk trying to avoid paparazzi.

Then the hostess tried to sit us in a booth next to another group. My back would have been six inches from some stranger’s back.

NO, THANK YOU.

See Rock City’s sanitizing stations.

Example 2: Ruby Falls on Sunday

There were about a thousand signs saying Ruby Falls is a TOUCH-FREE CAVE. Not only is it bad for the stalagmites and stalactites (oils from human hands keep the formations from growing) but CORONAVIRUS, HELLO!

Our very-loud guide must have said “no touching” 437 times. Every single time, a guy in the group in front of us could not help himself. He touched EVERYTHING.

Sigh.

So I will not be surprised at all when you start coughing or lose your sense of taste or smell, etc.

We, however, will remain COVID free.

See? Masks. No touching.

Hoping I’m wrong about your chances,
Beth

*Matinee, no one there, wearing masks, sanitizing everything we touched

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Dear Friends and Family,

Though this year has sucked in ways large and small, I’m thankful for all of you. I have big emotions regarding a few of you, but I’ll save that for a later post.

On this day of Thanksgiving (glossing over the actual horrific origins of this celebration), I’m thankful for small things (in no particular order):

  • Apothic Red for just $10
  • Jeans that fit
  • Fozzy
  • Gideon’s eclectic taste in music
  • Dominic’s dry comments
  • Eddie’s workout habits
  • Purple nail polish
  • Massage therapy
  • Airpods
  • Uno
  • Alexa (but not Siri, sorry)
  • Twitter
  • Apple Music
  • FaceTime, Skype, What’s App, Zoom and Houseparty
  • Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime and Disney Plus
  • I have spoken.”
  • Bubble tea
  • Gus’s chicken
  • Writing ability
  • Cooking skills
  • That I can drive a stick shift
  • Ancestry.com
  • The election is over (It is. For real, Donnie.)
  • Saturday Night Live
  • The Amazing Race
  • Jersey Shore Family Vacation
  • Rollerball pens
  • Fleetwood Mac
  • Panhandle Slim
  • Frequent flier miles that don’t expire
  • Friends who invite me over just to drink
  • People who have given me a chance to grow as a person and a professional
  • The fact that the first “Happy Thanksgiving” texts I received were from the moms of my sons’ friends (three of them!)
  • A balcony with lounge chairs and good Atlanta weather so I can be outside
  • Fellow bloggers (like this one and this one)
  • The cute but not functional scarf Goat-yoga Lisa made me

Adorable, right? In the background is the not-cute-but-functional blanket I made.

For what are you thankful? Tell me in the comments.

All my love,
Beth

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Dear Helios,

Thanks for giving us one good day at the beach. We needed it after our annual trip turned into a nomadic search for reliable Wi-Fi in the age of ‘Rona ‘Rona.

(Thank you to Patrick/Petra, Tammy and Sharon for letting us park in your homes when the beach Wi-Fi would only allow us to connect my iPad and the Roku.)

Saturday became our hassle-free day. I only had to worry about keeping my foot elevated.

Dominic and Gideon only concerned themselves with how deep they wanted to dig a hole.

Eddie only bothered with taking photos of said hole.

Back story: For whatever reason, the boys love to dig a hole in the sand every time we go to the beach. I don’t know why.

But people act like they’ve never seen a hole. Not a single person passed without commenting.

Granted, it was quite an impressive dig.

Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to blend the tan stripes on my stomach that I got from tubing. (You know: When I got stuck outside of the tube and wiped off all the sunscreen trying to wriggle back into it.)

I was taking a nap when the family started badgering me to get under the umbrella. They started calling me names (“Whitey”) and reminding me of that one time.

It was hurtful.

Me to Eddie: Why can’t I be a bronzed goddess?

Eddie: You can be a vanilla goddess.

So I did retreat to shade, but not before checking the hole.

During the GREAT DIG, Eddie and I savored some adult beverages.

Me to Eddie: What are we doing about dinner?

Eddie: I don’t know. What do you want to do?

Me: I want to go to Crab Shack.

Eddie: But we’ll have to drive.

Me: We can take Lyft.

Eddie: No, wait: WE HAVE A DESIGNATED DRIVER!

(We both look at Dominic in the hole.)

There was much rejoicing.

Anyway, thanks for giving us a sunny, mild day.

Hope you’ll be around the next time we plan a family trip.

With appreciation,

Beth

*I got into the Disney vault for that.

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Dear Gideon,

You and I are two of a kind. I always forget just how much until we take a car trip together.

You made a playlist for the trip. Of course you did.

In addition to the expected trap crap you and Dominic like, you pulled out The Monkees, The Beatles and Tears for Fears.

Also NEIL DIAMOND.

“Sweet Caroline.” Sweet Jesus!

I couldn’t believe it.

We bah bah bahhhhed loudly down I-75.ļæ¼ It was great.

Our bladders got full at the same time.

We chose the same flamin’ hot snacks.

We reached for the Clorox wipes at the same time.

When we got to where we were going, we both had to unpack right away.

We ordered basically the same meal at the barbecue place.

Then we both died at Wal-Mart when I was trying to drive the electric cart.

Sexy, I know.

I’m sorry for nearly mowing you down all those times. I’ve never used one of these things before.

At least you always knew where I was thanks to the beeping. (Like a bell on a cat collar.)

Anyway, I’m glad to be spending quality time with you again.

Love,
Mama

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Dear Outraged Women on Facebook,

Last night’s entertainment for me was getting into it with you over “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” vs. “WAP.”

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Our mutual FB friend A– is a pot stirrer. She loves to post things that get people going. I don’t often take the bait. But I couldn’t pass up the chance with this post.

I’m sure “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” was fine in 1944. And yes, the lyric “What’s in this drink?” is a joke from the time.

However, in the light of modern day, the song seems creepy. (I prefer the Legend/Clarkson reimagining.)

Enter “WAP.”

I like the song. (Maybe not blasted at our Airbnb, though.)

Men have been singing about sex and what they want for ages. Why can’t women?

To me, it’s a strong female song: She knows what she wants and wants to get it. Also — and this is key — it’s consensual sex. No assault/date rape overtones like the other song.

Well.

You would have thought I suggested that I play it on a speaker at Disney World and twerk on Mickey himself. Let me remind you of the exchange:

And R—–, your kids may have “clesn and lure” thoughts, but I guarantee you that they will not always have “clean and pure” ones, if that’s what you are seeking.

As it has been people on the political right who are wound up about stations not playing “Baby … ” and also upset about “WAP,” I’m going to make an assumption of my own:

You voted for Trump, didn’t you? Mr. Grab Them by the P—-.

So certain vulgar things don’t seem to bother you at all.

Got it.

Also, speaking of Disney, if your wholesome sensibilities are offended by that, you should not watch the Disney parody video.

Anyway, thanks for the evening’s recreation.

Good luck with your mental gymnastics — and keeping your kids safe from anything “perverted.”

Regards,
Beth

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Dear Eddie,

Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.

Yikes.

One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”

Yeah. What she said.

The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.

I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.

It can be summed up in two photos:

This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.

Clearly the same sense of humor.

In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.

We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.

Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.

Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.

In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.

Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.

We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.

Your face says it all.

Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!

Happy anniversary!

Love,
Beth

*Thanks, Paul Simon.

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Dear Folks Who Are Wondering What It’s Like To Go To A Theme Park That Just Reopened:

It’s weird. Every bit of it is weird.

As indicated in my last post, we took Eddie to Six Flags for Father’s Day. “We” meaning “Gideon and I” because Dominic didn’t get off work.

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Anyway, I had to make a reservation for us to go. That’s new.

Also new:

Ā· Hand-washing stations outside the entrance

Ā· Temperature scans on the way in (not sure that helps if people are asymptomatic, but ok)

Ā· The requirement for everyone to wear a mask at all times

Ā· Social distancing in the queue

Ā· Social distancing on the rides themselves

Ā· Having to scream/laugh through a mask (but that might just be my problem)

Ā· Hand sanitizer everywhere

So yeah, plenty of changes.

There are some things that haven’t changed:

Ā· Crappy attitudes of the teenaged staff

Ā· Skin-boiling heat with no shade in sight

Ā· Unappetizing food such as a burger with the bun literally dripping butter

Ā· The potential for ride malfunction

Here are the mechanics working on the ride we just exited — the one we were stuck on for 15 minutes.

So it was different, but not so much so that I would stay away. We have to get our membership money’s worth!

Yours in thrills,
Beth

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Dear Eddie,

Happy Father’s Day! Yeah, you aren’t my daddy (gross), but you are my baby daddy.

You helped me make these two:

But let me tell you: They challenge me. Regularly.

You know my favorite Christmas special? Let me help you: It’s “The Year Without a Santa Claus.”

I feel like Mother Nature with Heat Miser and Snow Miser.

I’ll explain.

They are old enough to handle Father’s Day on their own, but ignorant enough that I felt they needed reminders. And it had to be over text so you wouldn’t know.

But, as you know, they fought Friday night. As you also know, Gideon holds a grudge.

So this was the exchange yesterday:

Not only am I bothered by the unfortunate and consistent lack of punctuation and correct capitalization, I’m outraged at the fighting over text.

I know today ultimately will be a good day for you (I’ve got some things in reserve to make sure), but I wanted you to know what happened behind the scenes.

We still made it snow in Southtown.

Love,
Mother Nature (aka Yo’ Baby Mama)

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Dear Boys of Mine (all three),

Thank you for making this Mother’s Day the best ever. For real.

You know last year I wasn’t happy at all. It was not because you didn’t do the “right” thing. It was because you didn’t do anything on the day at all.

But this year, you made it right, and then some.

First, breakfast in bed with a side of “Hoarders” on the TV (you know how I feel about that show).

Then a treasure hunt with gifts, including my new food obsession: Flamin’ hot popcorn. (No surprise there, I’m sure.)

The hunt culminated in a homemade movie that made me cry. Twice.

Finally? Lunch based on a tomato soup commercial I saw yesterday. (You know the one: It features grilled cheese.)

So thank you for making me feel loved.

I love you too.
Mama

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