Kiss my ass, 2006.

What a year, no? And it's going out with a bang what with The Godfather of Soul, Gerald Ford, and Saddam all biting the dust within a week of one another. I am happy to say that I am actually going out to celebrate the close of this strange year, and I'm super excited. If you've read this blog for any length of time and/or know me personally, you know what a psychotic Xanadu fan I am. So it makes TOTAL sense that I wouldn't be able to pass this event up, right? I mean, come ON!! That shit was made for me!! Plus, I haven't been out for NYE in at least 5 years. I'm not a big New Year's kind of gal anymore. In my twenties, sure. But now it all seems sort of asinine. I'm sure after tonight it will probably be at least another five years before something comes along that's tempting enough to lure me out of the house on NYE. Now I just need to go figure out what the fuck I'm going to wear...

This year was filled with high highs (falling in love with Mr. Wonderful, my promotion at work, making it halfway through potty training The Geej, the Geej's wonderful new school, etc.) and very low lows (the whole hospital ordeal, putting Ellen to sleep). I want next year to bore my socks off. I hope that it is utterly uneventful, but with my track record, I don't see that really happening.

I haven't made any resolutions per se. However, I have figured out a kick ass tattoo I want to get, and I'd like to have it designed and ready to go by April 5th--the date that the Geej's adoption was finalized. And the area of my body where I want this thing to go could use some, uh, firming up. So I guess that's sort of a goal/resolution.

Speaking of The Geej, she did something hilarious yesterday. I was talking with Mr. Wonderful on the phone, and she was playing near by. I told him "shut up" in a playful way, and suddenly, she was walking around saying "Shut UP! Shut UP!" to everything. She walked up to Earl and said, "Shut UP, purring!" And then she continued her tirade by saying, "Shut UP, door!" "Shut UP, Christmas tree!" "Shut UP, window!" And on and on and on. Sigh... That's going to be a hard one to explain she she goes back to school.

I guess I'll finish up this post by doing a fun new meme that Jaye made up.

Open iTunes. Click the column header for "Play Count". What are the first five songs listed?
Independence Day--Elliot Smith
Crazy--Gnarls Barkley
Black Sweat--Prince
Yellow Sarong--Yo La Tengo
Pitseleh--Elliot Smith

Click the column header for Last Played. What are the first 5 songs?
I Won--The Sundays
Street Spirit (Fade Out)--Radiohead
A Prayer for England--Massive Attack
Going Down to Liverpool--The Bangles
Get Happy--The Bud Powell Trio

Click Party Shuffle. What are the first 5 songs?
Easter Song--A Man Called Adam
The Hollow--A Perfect Circle
Not Too Soon--Throwing Muses
Tears of God--Los Lobos
The Space Between--Zero 7

Click the column header Year. What are the first 5 songs from 1994?
The first five songs from The Beastie Boys, Ill Communication

Click the column header My Rating. What are the first 5 songs?
Um yeah...I haven't ever rated anything.

Finally, look at the bottom of your iTunes window. How many days of music do you have?
25.4 days

Happy New Year folks!!

Are you a troublemaker?

Watch this handy filmstrip to find out!



YouTube really DOES have everything on it.

I know this was a bad idea...

Today I ended up working from home because an el grande water main break at the major downtown intersection where my office is located meant that there'd be no peeing or pooing in our building all day long. My bladder is, more or less, the size of a grape, so that wasn't going to cut it for me. Anyway, I used the opportunity to run up to Petsmart around lunchtime and stock up on Earl provisions. He was just about out of everything, and clearly he's about to starve to death.Well, while I was back there in the kitty section, I had to swing by and glance at the potential feline adoptees, right? I always do that. You know, just cruise by and say hi. But this time, this very nice woman who volunteers for the rescue group where these cats come from started talking to me, and I told her about Ellen, and the next thing you know--boom--I'm meeting two of the kitties in the "getting to know you" room.

WTF?

First up was Sheila, a 4 year old female calico. So mellow and pudgy and sweet, with green, green eyes.

Second was Zoot, a 1 year old tuxedo male with a fun personality and lots of affection.

Damnit! They were both wonderful.

I left there and thought about them all afternoon. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore, and took The Geej up to meet the kitties to see if there was any kind of magical sign that one or the other of them should come home with us. When I got there, I learned that Zoot had ALREADY BEEN ADOPTED!! I guess that made part of the decision for us. But The Geej wasn't feeling all that hot today (she'd been running a fever earlier that I'd kept at bay by alternating ibuprofen and Tylenol), so she was a tad bit underwhelmed by the whole experience. Once again, Sheila was sweet and playful, and better yet, she was not at all afraid of the baby. My impulse was to scoop her up and take her home with us. But I didn't.

I decided to sleep on it, but now I can get that kitty out of my mind. I'm not sure how that big, fat mama's boy (pictured above) would deal with having a new little sister, but I can tell he's lonely without grumpy, old Ellen to torment.

God, what should I do?!

Merry merry, and all that jazz.

Well, Christmas 2006 has come and gone. The Geej was more than delighted with her haul of Santa-provided goodies. Per her very steady request, she did receive "a baby, and a blanket, and a house." Plus she got a lot of other stuff that she has been enjoying. I've probably heard the question, "Do you want to play with my new toys?" about 100 times in the past 24 hours.


For Christmas, I got gas logs installed in my fireplace and a pretty new fireplace screen. It was a cold and rainy weekend, so the fireplace got used a lot. I miss the pop and hiss of a real fire, but the convenience and lack-o-mess that these gas logs provide means that I'll get a lot more use out of the fireplace than I would've otherwise.


Tomorrow, it's back to work. Her school is closed for the next two weeks, so my DEAR mother is doing the bulk of daytime Geej-tending. God BLESS her! I'm just glad this year is coming to a damn close. It's been a bit schizophrenic--very high highs, and shitacular lows. Know what I want in 2007? Calm. I want it to be boring and uneventful, even. I'm sure that won't happen. I've got quite a penchant for drama in my little life, but calmness is what I'm wishing for just the same.

By the way, this is what you look like after you scarf down a gingerbread Santa cookie from Sweetish Hill:



Hope yours was a good one. Now 364 days until we get to do it all over again.

ARRRRRRRGH! Oh, I mean: HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Do you feel it--the "joy" (a.k.a. insane stress) of the holidays? I drove past Target last night at around 9pm and the parking lot was full FULL, all the way out to MoPac. I was just in Whole Foods, and I'm pretty sure 2/3 of Austin was also in there with me. From where I currently am (on the 6th floor of my office building), I can see that traffic is backed up on 6th St. from Lamar to way past Guadalupe. I know most of this means nothing to those of you unfamiliar with the roadways of Austin, but it's all to say, PEOPLE ARE GOING NUTS because there are only a couple of days left before Christmas.

I've been busy as well, hence my lack of posting. So this one's probably going to be a long one because I have a lot to tell you fools. And besides, I know you've got all the time in the world to read my drivel.

Okay, first up: My kid. A couple of weeks ago, I had a talk with her because she'd been wandering into my room early each morning and wanting to get in bed with me. This in and of itself is not a bad thing at all. However, when you're sleep-challenged like me, and rarely--if ever--are able to get fully back to sleep after these encounters, then it does become an issue. Especially if the wandering times are getting earlier and earlier--5:30am, 4:50am, 3:20am, etc. So one night as I was putting her to bed, I told her how, if she woke up in the middle of the night, all she had to do was close her eyes, and she'd go back to sleep. That her waking up didn't mean she had to get out of bed and walk all the way across the house in the dark to get in Mommy's bed. Besides, it's not nice to wake people up when they're sleeping. Especially Mommy because she's very tired. Apparently, this one conversation was all it took, because from that night on, the midnight visits stopped, and my sleep was much better. Until Wednesday night, that is. I was sleeping (I sleep on the right side of the bed, close to the edge), and I reached my hand down to put it by my side, and I touched something that didn't feel like bed. It felt like a head. A little person's head. It was The Geej, and it scared the shit out of me. Normally, I hear her opening her door to come my way over the baby monitor, and I'm well awake before she even gets to my room. But I apparently slept through it on Wednesday night. So there she stood, leaning against the side of my bed, totally asleep. That's right people: she was asleep STANDING UP with her hed lying next to my hip. How freaky is this?! I feel like the worst mommy of all time. Apparently, she didn't want to wake me up, but wanted to be with me anyway... Or maybe she was just sleepwalking. Who knows? How long had she been there? God!! So I pulled her up into the bed with me an placed her head on the pillow next to mine. I lay back down with my heart racing from the shock of what had just happened. Suddenly, I heard the loudest purr imaginable, right next to my head. Apparently, Earl had been snoozing on the pillow next to mine, unbeknownst to me, and when I'd put The Geej over there, her head had ended up square in the middle of Earl's ample gut. She was wearing him like a helmet. And now GJ was steadily sucking on her pacifier like Maggy Simpson. So between the sucking and the purring and the racing heart, I pretty much knew my sleep for the night was done for. I was right.

Second, my mom. Ya'll: Cheryl's got a boyfriend!! She met this guy named Paul, who just happens to be the exact age of my deceased step-father, which means he's 12 YEARS OLDER than my mom. My mom's a very youthful 60, and she's going after a guy who's 72, just had cataract surgery and wears 2 hearing aids? Um, okay. Anyway, I'm FINALLY getting to meet this guy tonight as we're all hooking up for dinner. Should be interesting.

Work has been absolutely nuts this week. Just lots of stuff to be done in a very short period of time. But thankfully, today was payday. Speaking of, I had a message from a collections agency on my voicemail at home last night. I automatically assumed that--FUCK--some of my medical billing had gotten screwed up (as it has done in the past), and that now I was going to have some big, awful smear on my credit report. I called them back today, and thankfully, they had the wrong number. But Jim Price, whoever you are, sounds like you're fucked.

Remember when I told ya'll a few posts back about how cool I am? Well, I may have entered an entirely new realm of coolness today. I had to wear a skirt/tights to work today because all of my jeans were dirty. I put the tights on, and they seemed fine. But by the time I'd made it to work, I realized that the elastic around the hips/waist part was shot, and that they were steadily heading southward and taking my underwear with them. I sent out a panicked e-mail to my female coworkers asking for safety pins to secure said tights to the waistband of my skirt, but then discovered that to be a major issue when I had to pee. So I came up with this ingenious solution:
See? I had three of these suckers holding my drawers up: one on each side, and one in the back. I'm a genius. And a fashion plate!! God, you're lucky to know me...

I went and picked up Ellen's ashes from the vet's office this morning. I don't know what I was expecting, but they did a really nice job. There's a little clay paw print and a certificate of cremation. The ashes themselves are contained in a little wooden chest with a gold lock and a nameplate. So sweet... I can't believe she's already been gone a week.

Mr. Wonderful got snowed in in the big blizzard that just hit Colorado. He sent me some crazy ass pictures of the snow. I got cold just looking at them. I do NOT miss weather like that. I remember dealing with a couple of those suckers when I lived in Chicago--when it would get so damn cold that even our Siberian Husky had better sense than to go outside--and it was no fun at all.

Speaking of Mr. Wonderful, today is the 1-year anniversary of the day that he sent me that fateful e-mail out of the blue. It's funny to look back at what I thought back then. A lot's happened in a year...

Okay, that's it for now. Whew. I'll leave you with a Christmasy photo to hopefully instill some cheer into your busy day. Ho ho ho!!

You know what's NOT a good idea?

Reading the book "Cat Heaven" to your 2 year old who keeps asking, "Where's Ellen?" every 5 minutes after an exhausting day at work plus an after-work trip to the damn grocery store to stock up on stuff to make snacks for an entire Montessori class full of 2 and 3 year olds all week on a miserable, drizzly day that just happens to be the four-year anniversary of your father's death right after you've begun taking some new hormones and are running on only 5 hour of sleep.

Not a good idea at all.

Oh, I wanted ya'll to know that this dog is up for adoption at Town Lake Animal Shelter:

He's the funniest looking, most adorable dog ever, and I would go get him right this second if I thought I had the energy or time to give him the kind of home he deserves. Did I mention Town Lake is a kill shelter? Yeah, his days are numbered. Why was I looking at this website? Good fucking question.

God, I just want to crawl under the covers and not come out until March.

And now, a message from The Geej...

Dear Summer,

Please go away. It's a week until Christmas, and I would like it to feel like winter. Or at least like fall. My mom has pretty much packed away my warm weather clothes and/or I've outgrown them, so for real, please just leave. Today it was 80 degrees, and I really think that's just stupid. If it stays this hot, how am I supposed to wear all my bitchin' cold weather hats? I look adorable in hats, by the way.

Right now, our air conditioner is running. How ridiculous is that?

So in conclusion, I'd just like to say: Go suck it, summer.

Love,

The Geej

In somewhat less depressing news...

Look who has taken up permanent residence under the Christmas tree: I guess this looks better than the total lack of presents under there.

Rest in peace, Ellen Melon.

June-ish, 1990 - December 15, 2006

She lived with me through 3 cross-country moves (9 different residences overall), 3 roommates, and one ex-husband. At different points, she also endured cohabitation with a Siberian Husky, a kitten named Dottie, another kitten named Earl, and a very curious baby named The Geej.

She lost the tip of her tail in a cat fight. She chased chipmunks when I lived in Birmingham. She rid our townhouse of mice during my first winter in Chicago. She flew on an airplane once. She used to put the Siberian Husky in his place even though he outweighed her by about 55 lbs. She liked corn and green beans and lunchmeat. She seriously dug catnip and sunspots. She was elegant and aloof, unless you really knew her. She had the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

In the 16 plus years that I had her with me, she stuck by me through so much. She was present for some of the best--and the worst--moments in my life. She was steady and calming.

I will always remember her. I will miss her. I love her.

Goodbye, sweet girl.

Grrrrrrrrroooowwwwl.

You know that low, threatening growl that cats make right before they fucking kick your ass? If I could physically make that sound, I would've been making it all day long today. All kinds of shit was fucked up--work shit, home shit, money shit. All of it. Fucked. Simultaneously. I'll spare you the whiny ass details, but just trust me.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrroooooooowl.

I forced a friend to come over and have martinis with me while we watched the Wanda Sykes HBO special just to (hopefully) end my night on a happy note. It helped, but I'm still growling inside.

And ironically it's simply gorgeous outside, complete with a meteor shower tonight. (By the way, "meteor" is a weird looking word, no? It looks like it's spelled wrong when it isn't.)

As Wanda said tonight, "The older I get, the less I care. The words 'I don't give a fuck' just fly outta my mouth."

Etc.

Yep. It's that time again: One of my famous random brain dump posts. When I neglect you, I pay you back with scary glimpses into my life and psyche. Aren't you lucky?!

Okay...where to begin.

OH! Yeah. I've been meaning to write about this for a while. To those of you whose blogs I normally comment on, if you haven't transferred to this damn "Blogger Beta" nonsense, then I can't comment on your blog. It's like when you travel into the future and you can't connect with the past because it will fuck up the entire world and shit. Did you ever see "Somewhere In Time?" It's like when Christopher Reeve pulls out that 1980s penny. I can't communicate directly with you Past-ians. But trust me, I'm still reading, cuz I love yer asses.

This weekend, several things happened that I'd like to share with you:

1) The Geej crossed a major potty-training threshold. Sorry to bore you with this, but this is major shit (pun intended) around our hacienda. I bribed her with some sparkly Santa stickers from Walgreen's and --boom!-- that little turkey is pretty much peeing in the potty full time now. Amazing. In like 3 days, she went from 5% to 100% success. Rumor has it that she went poop today at school, so now if I can just get her to do it at home. Santa's bringing her some big girl panties, and she's totally jazzed. God, she's getting so damn big.

2) We attended Bookhart's youngest's 3rd birthday extravaganza on Saturday evening. Can I just say: thank GOD for birthday gatherings that feature activities for the kiddos and adult beverages for the old folks. We had a blast.
In addition to covering the dining room table with paper and a gagillion stickers for the kiddos to go nuts with, Bookhart had covered the living room floor with paper and had colors for artistic expression. Brilliant!!
It's always helpful when there's a little girl's room FILLED with toys to explore. Annie O, Her Majesty, and The Geej played well together. You'll notice that The Geej has already claimed a babydoll. The girl is OBSESSED!! Also, please notice the relative cleanliness of the room itself. Because, at the END of the night, after The Geej and Anderson (a.k.a., The Wrecking Crew) had their way with things, it looked like this:

Um...sorry Bookhart.

In between the devastation of The Wrecking Crew, there was one helluva bed jumping session that happened in Bookhart and Pod's bedroom (God bless 'em).

Malcontent Mama and I were spotters. It's more of a workout than you might imagine...

WHEEEEEEEEEE! God, to be 6 for an afternoon...

3) After nearly 2 weeks, I'm happy to say, my behemoth Christmas tree is finally decorated. I'm no Martha Stewart, but it looks pretty good despite it's severely bizarre and unmatched assortment of ornaments. There aren't any presents under it, so Earl has taken up semi-permanent residence under there. (Photos to come, of course.)

4) I finally FINALLY planned my next rendezvous with Mr. Wonderful. Mid-January. I hope the snow gods are with me, and actually allow this trip to happen. You never know with Colorado in January...

Okay. That's all I got. When I sat down and started writing this muthuh, I could've sworn I had more, but alas--my mind runs dry.

Until next time, go kiss an elf.

500th Post!

This is number 500, folks! Yay!! So why not celebrate with a meme? I'm pretty sure La Turista was referring to me when she talked about her weird friends. So, here goes.

6 Weird Things About Karla May

1. When I fill my car up with gas, I always ALWAYS have to make sure the dollar amount ends in either a "5" or a "0." As in, $12.32? Not okay. $12.30 or $12.35, perfect.

2. I love peanuts. I love Snickers bars. I love peanut butter on saltine crackers. But I will NOT eat any kind of peanut flavored food or anything else that has peanuts/peanut butter in or on it.

3. When I laugh really hard, my knees buckle. I literally fall down laughing, and there's nothing I can do about it. I am a total freakin' spaz.

4. There are certain words that I hate the sound of so much that they can make me gag if I hear them.

5. I haven't eaten anything with hooves or fur since 1994. And it's not because I'm some big animal rights person. (Although I have many friends who are, and I respect the hell out of their opinions.) Here's why I made this choice: I figure, if I eat something, I should be willing to kill it. I could never, ever kill a cow, lamb, deer, rabbit, or pig. But I've fished, and would do so again. And if it came down to me and a chicken or turkey, and we were on a desert island? I could take that fowl down.

6. I hope to one day own a goat as a pet.

Fancy Pants.

One of the many charming things about the Pine Curtain Refugee is that I never EVER have it quite together. Especially when it comes to getting dressed up.

Case in point: Last night, I had a hoity-toity work banquet thingie at this swanky joint. Since the event venue was downtown at 6pm (and I work downtown), I just brought my outfit, shoes, etc. I wanted to wear to work with me so I could just change and primp prior to party time without worrying about fighting rush hour traffic to and from my house. Sounds like a good plan, yes? Well, I hadn't really thought my outfit through. I wore a red sweater, black skirt, and some black "super hero" boots that I thought would look hot with the black fishnet hose I brought. And the fishnets would've been fine if I'd bothered to shave my legs in the past month. Yeah. Nice visual, huh?

Another example: Today I decided to dress a bit more nicely than usual because Jaye was taking me to lunch at a nice place called Cafe Jezebel. So I actually fixed my hair (those who know me know what a rare event that is) put on some nice pants, decent shoes, a cashmere sweater twinset, and my pearls. PEARLS, people! I get to work and realize--OOPS--not one, but two moth holes in the sweater.

I should just give up and wear my pajamas and houseshoes to work every day.

On a TOTALLY unrelated note, I was reading a website today that called Paris Hilton a "celebutard." Fucking brilliant!!

Be careful what you ask for.

As I've mentioned before, last Christmas was VERY low-key for The Geej. We got her just a few gifts (most of which she still plays with) and didn't really decorate. I'd just moved into my house, and so my Christmas stuff was all packed away. And we went to Mom's house, who has never really been one to "do it up" on Christmas.


Well, this year is different. The Geej is TOTALLY into this whole Christmas thing, and my mom and I have been buying stuff for her for a couple of months now. Obnoxious, I know, but come on: the little kiddos are what it's all about, right? Anyhoo, I mentioned to my mom that The Geej might enjoy a Little People doll house kind of a thing. I've already purchased the Pre-School set (which I think The Geej will absolutely LOVE since she loves school so much), but I figured the doll house set would be a good thing to have at my mom's so that little bit could play with it when she's out there.

What I was thinking about was something along these lines:

What Mom bought her was this:

Holy HELL people! This thing is HUGE. You can't really tell because there's not kiddo pictured with it to give a sense of the scale, but trust me. Apparently, it came with twin babies and other "accessories," so yeah. What's funny is that doll house looks EXACTLY like the house Geej and I live in. Right down to the window boxes and pink roof. Strange.

The Geej Report

I am happy to report that The Geej's reign of terror at her school appears to be over. For now.

I had my first parent/teacher conference last week, and they used words like "amazing," "brave," "empathetic," "wise," and "joyful" to describe my child. And then this weekend, she was an absolute angel from heaven--as perfect as a 2 year old can be.

She's totally into the whole idea of Christmas now that the tree is up and she sees houses all lit up and whatnot. She's telling me that she wants Santa to bring her "a baby and a house and a blanket." Um...okay. I'll let him know. She's also recently taken up streaking. At any opportunity, she runs around the house in her birthday suit yelling, "I'm NEKKID!!" Hilarious. To top that, she smacks herself on the ass and says, "I'm patting my peaches, Mommy!" I gotta get that on video to show her prom date someday.

I wish I had more news, but I'm fighting back a chest cold and sore throat, which is fun. So for now, I'll leave you with this piece of preciousness:

Say it with me now people: Awwwwwwww!

Worst. Retail. Experience. Ever.

Okay, maybe I'm spoiled. I'm going to own up to that right now. I work for a retail company that's known for its customer service, and I shop in our flagship store almost every single day and have become very accustomed to, oh I don't know, being treated like a human being who they're happy is spending their hard-earned dollar with them. So when I go somewhere with less-than-stellar customer service, I'm pretty forgiving. I mean, not every place can bear the standard, right? But when it sucks, it sucks, and Karla May gets fucking pissed.

Case in point: Mother Fucking Garden Ridge. Today. Noonish.

First of all, I never would've gone to this damn place if it hadn't been recommended to me. I think I've been there a grand total of 3 times in the past 7 years, so it's not one of my favorite places. However, I was in the market for a Christmas tree, and I was given a tip about their selection and prices. And I went today during my lunch hour. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

Let me 'splain:

I am a shopper who generally knows what she wants. I am a commando. I go in. I get it. I leave. Rarely am I in the mood to just mill around. It happens, but as I said, rarely.

Today, I was in commando mode. I knew I wanted one of those tall, skinny trees. My living room has a vaulted ceiling, but not much floor space, so I wanted to work within these parameters. It took me all of 2 minutes to find the tree I wanted. But it was in a HUGE heavy box on top of a shelf on top of a bunch other boxes, so I needed help. Sigh. I looked around for some orange-shirted helper-elf, but had to trot all the way across the 200-yard wide store to find a lost looking cashier type person to ask for assistance. Her answer? "It'll be a while. He's doing a carryout." So they had ONE doofus working the CHRISTMAS TREE department (where they've merchandised everything in a way that pretty much guarantees everyone's going to need help tree wrangling) on a very chilly, Christmas-like December 1st. Brilliant.

I finally get my tree into my cart and guide the unweildy beast through the aisles that are so crowded with asinine merchandising it's like guiding Noah's ark through a cocktail straw. And guess what: only 4 of the 16 lanes were open. And two of those had their "Manager! Please help me!! I need a price check on a Sponge Bob pinata!!" lights blinking. It was a total clusterfuck.

See? Good GOD! So I got in line behind two carts. And, as always happens everytime I'm anywhere that requires a line up (the airport, the bank, etc.), I got in the slowest line of all time. Yes, I got two carts, but actually, one of the carts was filled with three grandmas buying all sorts of nutcrackers and witty Christmas-themed throw pillows for their condos, and of course they were checking out separately. And writing checks while talking on their goddamned cellphones to their Boniva dealers. I'm surprised they weren't in more of a hurry to get to Applebee's to try the new Tyler Florence menu offerings. He's adorable!!The only thing I had to relieve me from wanting to disembowel the old bitches in front of me was looking at the retail clogfest that was Garden Ridge's awesome attempt at merchandising. Need some dried, shitty chives? Some Italian Seasoning perhaps? You're in luck! 'Cause Garden Ridge has about a 652,000 of them right here at the checkout line. Talk about your "impulse" purchase! I mean, minced onions ranks right up there with "People Magazine," batteries, and gum! And it's displayed so beautifully, how could anyone resist its allure? The spices were to my left. To my right was this work of art:
That's right, bitches: Bucket Drink Fixins, now with their own spigots!! Woooooooooooo!!! Well I guess I can't say that Garden Ridge doesn't know who its regular customers are.

I tried to look away from the grandmas and the bucket drinks and the dried spices, and here's all I had to comfort myself with:Hot, no?

Notice what's in his right hand. A shitty metal, wobbly flamingo. And tucked under his left arm?
Yep, he had a box containing 5 lighted flamingos. What I wish had been captured was his kick ASS mullet and baseball cap. Because I want ya'll to be able to recognize him when I post my wedding photos.

I finally said "fuck this line" after the cashier turned on the damn "Manager, help me!" light. I got in a line with a young Hispanic cashier who, seriously, acted/looked like she'd been lobotomized. I think you would pretty much have to be mentally altered to work there. I got the sense I was surrounded by zombies.

Fuck that place. This goddamned Christmas tree BETTER last for at LEAST 5 years, or I will seriously go fucking postal.

(Mad photo props to Jaye. That poor gal was with me during this ordeal, and happened to have her digital camera. Thank God.)