Man of the Year....of course

Well, there you have it folks, our Man of the Year as scribed by Time Magazine. Cute, isn't he? Don't believe what others may have told you, he made the Jackson 5. Tito who?

As a loyal American, I respect the office of the President and come January, I pledge to respect Obama. It'll be hard to put a year of double-standards, staged soundbites, negative campaigning and pure astonishment that people bought into this blowhard's "I'm gonna make everything all better" persona behind me. But I am a true American and therefor I pray that he will do well in his position and we as a nation will prosper because of it.



I have always believed that we need to have respect for the highest office in the land. But Time's Man of the Year? I owe no loyalty to that title.

Does Anyone Even EAT them???

I'm talking about Christmas cookies. Mom's were built a certain way, and I think our molds come complete with the need to make Christmas cookies. You know, the ones that sit on a plate at Christmas time that almost everyone comments on how pretty they are but don't actually eat them. The cookies with random items shoved into them (cherries, peanut butter cups), ones baked with candy canes smashed to smithereens (great job for a 3 year old), cookies in odd food-coloring colors...

So I started the cookie baking task yesterday and prepped Braeden for it. He was very excited and begged me all afternoon to start. I thought it was so sweet....After all, all kids like baking, don't they? HELL NO. He didn't want to get messy, got bored with watching the mixer (weird because he's fascinated by that big orange beast), wiped the flour dust off my counter because it was dirty, and told me the butterscotch chips "didn't smell good." So much for mother-son bonding and creating a tradition he could look forward to every year.

Guess I'm on my own. I'm four batches down and already know I have to remake the candy cane sugar cookies. They're adorable, but according to my son they're too "crunchy", and that's another thing on the list of things he doesn't like....

All I Want for Christmas is....A Princess Unicorn Doll

The Legend:

Princess Unicorn is from a distant land on a distant planet far in the future. She came from her father, king of the unicorns, and her mother, a queen of the princesses. Sorcerissa, the evil witch, cast a spell on Princess Unicorn's parents, forcing them into another dimension, and doused Princess Unicorn in radiation. The radiation did not hurt Princess Unicorn, but gave her magical powers. She can summon her magic by holding her wand and calling out "My horn can pierce the sky!" Now she uses he magic and beauty to write for her school paper, defend her kingdom, and battle Sorcerissa so she can be reunited with her mother and father some day.

And THIS is why I love "The Office." It is, officially, my favorite tv show. Sorcerissa!? Seriously? And when you hear "My Horn Can Pierce the Sky", aren't you just singing it to the Transformer's theme (old school here) in your head??? (More than meets the eye!)


www.princessunicorndoll.com

From the very website created to further waste my time in a most entertaining way:

* Comb her hair and set it the way you wish!
* Her hands move freely!
* Includes sparkly Magic Wand!
* Beautiful multi-layered dress!

Princess Unicorn, the most beautiful in all the land.
Grab her wand and let your imagination soar.
Unlock the magic of Princess Unicorn!

Caution:

* Wash hands thoroughly after handling Princess Unicorn.
* Do not play with Princess Unicorn if you are allergic to lead based paint.
* The spike on Princess Unicorn is incredibly sharp, so Princess Unicorn can pierce the sky. It can also pierce your skin. Handle with care. (Who in the hell is writing this stuff? I want to buy them a beer!)

Appropriate for ages 2+




And to make sure no one feels left out:



The Office is up for 2 Golden Globes, to be given out in January. There is absolutely ZERO reason this piece of comedic gold shouldn't win best comedy. Tina Fey and the rest of the cast of 30 Rock, kiss my rear.

Aside from Princess Unicorn, there was plenty of goodness in this episode:

"I call it a orangevodjuice-ka."
"Princess Unicorn: Genetically improbable. How does that happen? A king has sex with a unicorn? A man with a horn has sex with a royal horse?" (yes, more Princess Unicorn, gotta give it up to Dwight)
"Do you take requests?" "Please stop."


And finally, if anyone is still looking for a Christmas gift for me, I'd like a Princess Unicorn shirt, size L. I will buy you many orangevodjuice-kas.

Life's BIG Pleasures

Today I played in the snow with Braeden, and it's just one of those things that warms your heart and makes you love life. I got him completely bundled up (winds howling at 25 miles an hour...come on already!) and then he had to pee, of course....but then we re-bundled and shoveled together, made snow angels, and played King of the Hill preschool style on the snowbanks from Mr. Mike's plow (snow blower still isn't working). He had his little Diego sunglasses on the a scarf wrapped around his face, so all you saw was this little pink nose and cheeks and it was so unbelievably adorable.

I hate being cold, hate the snow, and hate all things winter in Wisconsin, but I have to say that this morning was wonderful.

Subway - We Make It Our Way Because You're a Pain in the Ass

Yesterday I had one of the worst customer service experiences of my life. Braeden and I went to the Subway in Wales where I ordered our usual, a footlong ham (yes, to share...) with vinegar, tomatoes, oregano and lettuce. Not too complicated...I've seen some of the things people call a sandwich when I'd call it my weekly grocery list. Already appearing to be having a crappy day, Ms. "Sandwich Artist" put oil on my sub. Now, I understand this mistake because not all people get their acid-freak on like I do and need the oil to mellow it out. Very nicely, I pointed out that I did not want oil, and she just stared at me. I don't know if she was waiting for me to bust out "Psych!", but she just stared. So of course I repeated myself, and after a few moments, she asked if I wanted her to remake it. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought Subway made the sandwich to your specifications. If I don't want oil and you mistakenly put it on there, YES, I want you to remake it.

So you know what Ms. Attitude does? She mutters the word "Wow" and then ROLLS HER EYES as she turns to get a new bread. WTF???? Now, thinking I may have misheard, because surely nobody would be that retarded to INSULT a customer by insinuating that they're a pain in the ass, I asked her if I heard her correctly. Yes, I did, because she repeated it. Am I in the f-ing twilight zone here??? Is this what we should come to expect now at Subway...that we now shall sacrifice customer service for a $5 footlong?

So after Braeden and I ate and I sat and stewed, I decided to consult a manager regarding the situation. Not only did I feel she just pacified me by listening, but she didn't even offer me a coupon? Now, I'm as frugal as they come, but I certainly don't go around bitching about stuff to get free crap. She offered to give me another sandwich, and again I wonder if I'm in the twilight zone because surely she saw that I already ate? Do I still look hungry? Is that why the sandwich is only $5, because it doesn't fill every inch of my gut? I told her I'd take a coupon instead and she obliged, but trust me, she wasn't doing it to regain my business. I don't think she gave a crap about me, or the pimple she has working for her. What manager would possibly stand for an employee belittling a customer with sarcasm and eye rolls?

I guess Subway has their own standards.

Thank God This Isn't Us

My new favorite e-mail:


"The wife has been on my case to get the Christmas lights up for a couple of weeks now. They are up now and for some reason she will not talk to me."






Thank God this isn't us. After years of not having any "exterior illumination", we finally got some Christmas lights up and they are beautiful. It took a lot of time and effort, but I've gotta give it up to Joe. He outdid himself. And there was minimal cursing, throwing, or flying lit reindeer. I was so proud.

Now, back to the picture above...what in the hell?? You know it's gotta be someone from the "Nort Side", some funny husband who felt he got the best of his better half. I wonder if the couch was comfy??? And I wonder if his punishment is twice as bad now considering their home is now circulating the internet?

Thanks for the good laugh, Julie. :)

Rule of Thumb

Rule of Thumb if you're a Janik living in Wisconsin:

When it snows, your snowblower will be broken. And it snows a lot. Especially on evenings when you have to go to Bunco and have a neighbor picking you up. Go ahead, shovel what's there. The snowblower is broken, so by this rule of thumb, it's going to snow a shitload more.

It's like the equivalent of having a riding mower but having to cut each blade of grass individually with a pair of nail clippers.