Happy Birthday, Dad!

Happy Birthday, Dad! I hope mom brought you breakfast in bed. I know how much you love toast (it's a good thing, too, since that's her specialty).

Of all the things I'd like to share with you, the Internet, about my old man, I think the most relevant to Bits and Wiz is that my father is Peeve-Proof. Nothing rattles him. If he were a superhero, he'd be Patience Man. My favorite illustration of his seemingly bullet-proof calm is this photo:

Picture it: Thanksgiving 2008. While cleaning up the kitchen after our feast, I decided it would be a great idea to put leftover dressing down the garbage disposal. CLOG. While lesser men would've cursed, rolled their eyes, thrown tools around and made me feel like an idiot, my dad carefully removed the cleaning supplies from under the counter, grabbed my (pink!) tool bag, and set about fixing the clog. He didn't even mind when I, the cause of the problem, took a picture of him while he toiled away.

If I were him, Pet Peeve Monday would've gone something like this: "Why in the world would you think that a residential grade garbage disposal could handle something as dense as DRESSING? It's not a wood chipper. It's a garbage disposal. Get a clue."

I'd also be remiss if I let this occasion pass without sharing my favorite photo of my dad. It was taken on the 4th of July this year, as he and Jasper watched the fireworks I illegally transferred across state lines. I think it's just priceless:

So Happy Birthday, Dad. Thank you for being such an amazing (and patient) Dad and Grandpa. I love you very much!

Wherein this "city slicker" gagged

My family and I, all 25 of us, spent Christmas in a cabin in the Great Smoky Mountains. The view was breathtaking, the weather was just chilly enough to feel like Christmas, and the cabin was great. However, in my humble opinion, the cabin's decor left a bit to be desired.

I present, for your consideration, this jewel which hung IN THE KITCHEN:

Oh, heavens. Please excuse me and my "hard to satisfy gourmet palate." Oh. Heavens.

Possible side effects may include...

This morning I was watching Good Morning America (Diane Sawyer, if you're reading this...I miss you) when a commercial for Chantix came on. You know, Chantix - the stop smoking drug that is not a nicotine patch. As all prescription drug commercials are obligated to do, the folks at Chantix started describing possible side effects. As they rambled on and on and on, I giggled to myself as I thought about how similar the side effects of Chantix are to the side effects of spending time with family at the holidays.

See for yourself:

Some people have had changes in behavior, hostility, agitation, depressed mood, suicidal thoughts or actions while VISITING FAMILY AT THE HOLIDAYS. Some people had these symptoms when they began VISITING, and others developed them after several weeks of VISITING. If you, your family, or caregiver notice agitation, hostility, depression, or changes in behavior, thinking, or mood that are not typical for you, or you develop suicidal thoughts or actions, anxiety, panic, aggression, anger, mania, abnormal sensations, hallucinations, paranoia, or confusion, stop VISITING FAMILY and call your doctor right away. Also tell your doctor about any history of depression or other mental health problems before VISITING FAMILY, as these symptoms may worsen while VISITING FAMILY.

I think I'm really on to something here. Obviously, I'm not speaking from personal experience. Obviously.

Pet Peeve Monday

Look. There are 130 seats in this movie theater, 117 of which are blissfully vacant. WHY MUST YOU CHOOSE THE SEAT DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME? I know I have the uncanny ability to find the center-most seat in the place, giving me an unparallelled viewing experience, but BACK UP OFF ME.

I get annoyed just thinking about it.

A Suggestion

If you really want to get a lot of really strange, inquisitive looks on the Saturday morning before Christmas, go to Sam's and do this:

Trust me. It works like a charm.

Pet Peeve Monday

This one's gonna be unpopular, so I'm just gonna come out and say it. Like ripping off a band aid.

The Chipmunks. Please, oh please, little rodents. Stop the singing.

And for all you Chipmunks fans out there (you know who you are), come close and I'll tell you a little secret. Shhhhhhh...come close.

THEY AREN'T REALLY SINGING.

They are indeed the Milli Vanilli of animated characters.

Favorite

My halls are officially decked for Christmas and I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to my favorite Christmas ornament. Everyone, meet Whitney the Angel:

I wonder if picking Whitney as my favorite ornament is a bit like laughing at my own joke...you know, kind of rude? Like elbows on the table or driving on the sidewalk? You see, Whitney is a creation of my very own from elementary school. I love her. I remember thinking how clever I was to give an angel black hair. I mean, everyone knows that all angels are blonde, right? But me and my renegade Crayola...we set out to topple stereotypes. Every year when I unpack the ornaments, I giggle a little to myself when I see Whitney the Angel and her pitiful, crooked head. Much like my own halo, her shine has dulled over the years, but she's still hanging in there. Bless her heart.

And mine...

The Amazing Race

It's 7:36pm on Monday night and I just returned home from my last (!) work-related (read: painful) holiday party of the year. As I headed to my room, I passed the thermostat in the hallway and flicked the heat on.

Then, I proceeded to successfully change into my pajamas before the heat even came on. If this isn't already an Olympic sport, I'm starting a petition.

Pet Peeve Monday

Theoretically, I work in an office of highly educated people. So the fact that some of my colleagues can't figure out how to refill the community Brita pitcher is beyond me.

Here's the pitcher as I found it just moments ago:

And look! Here's how easy it is to REFILL SO THE PERSON WHO COMES AFTER YOU CAN ALSO HAVE DELICIOUS, COLD, FILTERED WATER TO DRINK, YOU LAZY, SELF-CENTERED WASTE OF SPACE:

And while we're on the subject, who leaves their dirty plate in the sink for someone else to clean? Ew.

Reason #29 I Don't Mind Being Single

Click for refreshers on #27 and #28.

Reason #29: COOKIES. If I weren't single, I'd feel obligated to share the cookies from my Sunday School class's holiday cookie exchange.

But since I am (single), I don't (feel obligated). What I do feel obligated to do is EAT THEM.

Of course I'll end up sharing. Of course I will. Of course. Right. Of course? Right?

2009 Holiday Letter

Dear Friends, Family, and random people I’ve never met,

In keeping with the true spirit of the holidays, I have decided that I’m way too lazy to mail Christmas cards and will instead post this virtual holiday letter to further submerge myself in the gratuitous self-indulgence that is the Bits and Wiz standard. How’s THAT for an opening statement?

If I had children or highly talented, over achieving pets, this is the part where I’d wax poetic about how I love nothing more than waking up at 3 am to intervene so they don’t pee on the carpet. Since I am an army of one, let me instead say that I’m sure someday I’ll reread the previous sentence and bat myself about the ears for being so pompous. Today is not that day.

The house continues to come along nicely. We’re celebrating our 17-month anniversary in December, officially making this my longest serious relationship ever. I credit the lack of outrageous student loan debt and relatively low maintenance for our success. It’s due for a new roof, so that will be my first foray into major home improvement and will undoubtedly end with a flat tire after driving over a roofing nail. I can’t wait.

I’ve met most all my neighbors, a feat my own parents haven’t managed after 12 years in their house. While I was initially very proud of this accomplishment, I began to question my own zeal after the lady next door started calling me “Nancy” which is my seldom advertised first name. I can only deduce that she went through my mail to figure out who the heck I am; a fact that has left me feeling starkly naked and violated. Now, I keep my eyes on the ground and literally run from the carport to the kitchen door. Turns out I am my mother’s daughter after all.

A highlight of the year had to be the birth of Baxter, my second nephew, who is so cute it’s painful. I’m convinced that when he starts talking, he’ll have a British accent and say things like “bugger off.” I can’t wait. Baxter joins the ranks of my other short friends, including Jasper, Thomas, Mac, William, Amelia, Charlotte, Caroline, Brooke (coming soon!), and baby Betchman who will make his or her debut in February. If you’re keeping count, I’ve almost got enough for a 10-person basketball team with one full rotation of subs, which will come in really handy late in the second half when the other team is totally winded. All those tots and I didn’t have to push once!

In closing, we here at Bits and Wiz hope you have a very Merry Christmas, filled with the kind of family dysfunction that makes you feel a bit wistful in mid-June when you realize there are still a full 6 months before you’re set to endure it all over again.

Peace on Earth (and all those other warm and fuzzy salutations),
Bits and Wiz

Pet Peeve Monday

Welcome to Pet Peeve-ville, population 1.

When you're standing in line at the store (grocery store, drug store, clothing store, shoe store, home improvement store...it matters not), instead of intently watching as the cashier rings up every single solitary item of your order, could you please be proactive and GET YOUR WALLET OUT OF YOUR PURSE AND PREPARE TO PAY? I know the beep...beep...beep...beep...of the bar code scanning can be soothing and hypnotic, making it hard to prepare yourself for the next phase of the transaction. You know, the part where you fumble around in your giant purse to find your giant wallet, remove your debit card, scan it, scan it again because you scanned it the wrong way the first time, enter your pin number, decline cash back, confirm the total? You can do almost all of that while the beep...beep...beep serenades you.

The alternative, of course, is to stand there mesmerized in a foggy stooper until your total is announced and then begin the fumbling sequence while the 17 people in line behind you shoot daggers at the back of your head. Those people? I'm one of them.

And the beep goes on.

Red Elephant in the room.

Disclaimer: I may be wading into politically explosive and culturally insensitive territory with this post. Both are unintentional. Now that I have your undivided attention, I shall proceed.

Of all the hysteria that's ensued after these two yahoos crashed-or-didn't-crash the State Dinner at the White House:

I think there's a huge red elephant in the room that's been left unexamined. WHY IS SHE WEARING THAT? When the First Lady is SHUTTING DOWN THE SHOW in this:

...WHY ARE YOU WEARING THIS????:

To her credit, I have not done one ounce of research about her ethnic background. Perhaps this is an ode to her culture or something, in which case I guess it's sort of more acceptable. I refuse to google her very extensively because that's exactly what she wants me to do, so I'm just going to make sweeping generalizations and say OMG WHAT ARE YOU WEARING????

At the end of the day, Baxter says it best:

BREAKING NEWS

I'd like to call your attention to the new (kinda tacky) countdown clock located in the left column and prepare yourself for John Mayer-mania here at Bits and Wiz. I have the best friends in the world (hi Amy and Kathy!). They pulled some strings and arranged for John to come to Charleston and play a concert for me in February as I kiss my 20's goodbye.

John thinks he's coming to strum his guitar and sing a few notes. Won't he be surprised to learn he's coming here to FALL IN LOVE WITH ME!

Shove over, Jennifer Aniston.

Concerned

Does storing a notebook full of Algebra II notes from high school in your parents' attic for 10 years constitute "unauthorized use of a milk case"? If so, color me concerned: