Veronica M.D.: December 2009

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Oh Yeah. Also? I Am Not Stupid.

I have this fun little thing I do when said solicitors come to the door. I listen politely for a moment, and then, with my head cocked to the side and a sweet-yet-dense look on my face, I say, "Oh, I'm sorry. My husband takes care of all that."

I don't care what it is. I always reply that way.

You're here to collect for a charity that sounds made up? My husband takes care of all that.

You're here to invite us to join the neighborhood watch? My husband takes care of all that.

You're here to sell magazines? My husband takes care of all that.

Yes, my husband is in charge of all charitable donations and decisions about joining organizations. And magazines. He is definitely in charge of magazines.

I don't know what made me decide to do it, but I sure love it!

So this guy from some made-up sounding energy organization came by last week and wanted to see our energy bills to make sure we aren't getting overcharged. I did my standard "stupid housewife" routine, and the guy looked a little sorry for me. He began speaking much more slowly and loudly, and asked if I knew where my husband kept the bills, because all he needed was to see one. I shook my head sadly. He even showed me one on his clipboard. "See. It looks LIKE THIS," he said, holding it very close to my face and shouting to get past my stupidness. Sorry, no luck buddy.

Finally, he left, after giving me another sad little smile, and I thought I was done with him for good. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Last night, at 7:30 PM (!!!!!) I heard banging on my door, and it was another representative from said company. I unleashed my signature move, and he ... ROLLED HIS EYES AT ME AND WALKED AWAY.

REALLY?!?!! Really? You come to my house AFTER DINNER TIME, ask me a stupid question, and then get mad at ME when I blow you off in the nicest way I can possibly muster?

You want to know how I USED to talk to solicitors before I got a little nice? It ranged from telling them I was much too busy doing nothing to speak to them to telling them to jump off a cliff. Is that what you wanted? Because I can DO that. I can be mean. So save your eye rolling for someone else, mister.

And you can take your Stanley Hudson voice and go jump off a cliff.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Soon. Very Soon.

I just got the best card ever. Feast your eyes on this ...

I have great friends!!

UPDATE: My mom just e-mailed to ask me what a MILF was ... I told her to ask my little sister.

UPDATE: My mother now knows what a MILF is. She said she was hoping it had something to do with a mother-in-law. Oh, she was terribly wrong.

UPDATE: I just realized Jess might hate me now. Because she is dating my brother. And she also called me a MILF. And I posted it on my blog, which led to my mother learning what a MILF is. And now my mom knows that Jess called me a MILF. Oh dear.

The Most Terrible Things I Did To My Siblings: Chapter 1

In an effort to make amends and, more realistically, ease my guilt, I felt the need to admit some of the terrible things I did to my younger siblings when we were young.

Let me answer a few questions for you first:

No, I am not the devil

Yes, I feel bad

Yes, I still think the stories are funny

So, away we go. Please enjoy Chapter One in this series!

It was the middle of a terrible, cold, Michigan winter day. If you don't live in Michigan and have been fortunate enough to never pass through it -- imagine the coldest frozenest tundra. Lots of snow, lots of slush, and a bitter wind chill that will give your nose frostbite in a heartbeat.

It was that kind of winter day.

My little brother and I each had a friend over to play with. Despite this, my friend (let's call her Molly) and I were bored. Being 12-year-old bratty girls, we immediately sought out my brother and his friend to terrorize.

But the way a 12-year-old girl terrorizes someone is much different than, say, a boy of ... well, any age, might terrorize someone. The 12-year-old girl does not shout, chase, hit, or give noogies. She does not make up raunchy rhymes or give Indian burns. No, the 12-year-old girl messes with your mind. And she is oh, so good at it.

When we found my brother and his friend (we'll call him Joshua), they were in his room and likely playing with legos or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. They were 9 -year-old boys and they were behaving. Boring.

Molly and I sauntered into the bedroom, sat on the bed, and looked down at them on the floor. Their first mistake was that they acknowledged us. Their second mistake was that they didn't scream, pinch us, and throw us out of the room.

I turned to Molly, and said in my most scathing tone, "Wow. They are so lame and boring and stupid."

"Totally," Molly agreed.

Together, they shouted, "I'm rubber and you're glue, and whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!!"

"Fine, Molly. Let's go. I had a really cool idea, but, whatever."

We got up to leave, and my brother stopped us. Mistake number three.

"Okay, I have like the coolest adventure in the world in mind. Are you up for an adventure?"

"Totally. Totally. Sounds radical." Mistake number four.

"Well, remember how we figured out last summer that you can climb out your bedroom window and totally walk across the kiwi arbor and jump down to the back deck?"

"Yeah?" Now they looked half skeptical and half interested. Perfect.

"Well, I was thinking you should try that and then ... (I paused for dramatic effect) ... I think you should try to break through the ice on the pool without Dad seeing you."

Silence.

"I totally dare you," I added.

"But how would we get back into the house?" my brother wanted to know. "I mean, we can't climb back up, and if we come into the house in wet clothes, Dad will know for sure and we will be dead meat!!"

"Easy," I answered coolly. "Molly and I can toss dry clothes out the window, you guys can change outside, and then you can come back in the house and if Dad asks you, just say he was asleep when you went outside and he didn't notice you."

"Wow! This sounds AWESOME!" They shouted. And they agreed. Their final deadly mistake.

So, we pulled open the window, took out the storm window, the boys crawled out, walked across the arbor, jumped down to the pool deck, and stood at the edge, all while we watched from upstairs. When they paused and looked up to the window, we smiled and gave them the thumbs up. Those poor, naive souls.

And they did it. They jumped into the pool, broke through the ice, and did a polar bear plunge. Molly and I had to cover our mouths because we were shrieking with delight. Oh my god! They did it!

They crawled out and ran over under the window. We tossed down clothes like we promised, and they actually changed outside in the (probably) -10 degrees Fahrenheit cold. They dumped their clothes and sauntered in the back door just as we rushed down the stairs. Our elephant feet woke up my father, who was napping in his recliner. He probably yelled at us for being noisy and then looked at the TV to see what he had been watching before he fell asleep.

Yes, I convinced my brother it would be cool to risk his life multiple times by climbing out a second story window, walking on a pergola that was not rated to hold his weight, jumping from that height, diving through ice into a frozen pool and changing outside. But the worst was yet to come.

Molly and I strolled over to the kitchen and nonchalantly got a drink. My brother and his friend were sitting and the kitchen table and beaming at us. I smiled at them, and then slowly turned toward the kitchen window.

"Dad," I called while I looked out the back window. "Why do you think the ice on the pool is broken? It looks like ... like maybe someone JUMPED IN IT. Why would someone DO that? Don't they know that the broken ice could rip the liner?" I gave my father a puzzled look and then followed his gaze as his head swiveled to my brother and his friend, who had wet hair, red cheeks, and guilty looks on their faces.

Then, Molly and I strode up the stairs as the shouting began.

Okay. I know you hate me now. But I have come to grips with that. I know what I did was cruel, unusual, and could have killed my brother. But it was funny. And he didn't die. And he told me a few years ago that he forgave me. So please, for the love of all that is good and pure, don't stop reading my blog over this. Instead, you should love me even MORE for being willing to admit to such atrocities while other bloggers are out there acting like sunshine and rainbows spring from their asses.

Please. Just love me. Or I will start singing the Jennifer Hudson song. So help me god, I will. Ask my husband. I sing it to him roughly once a week until I wear him down and he loves me again.

You're gonna LOOOVE me .....

Monday, December 28, 2009

Attention 20-Something Bloggers!!

Allie at Hyperbole and a Half is a finalist in the 20SB 2010 Bootlegger Awards for Best New Blogger!! If you are a 20-Something Blogger, please, for the love of sweet baby Jesus, hightail it over here to vote for her!

Some other great bloggers to check out before voting in the other categories include Jill from The Pilgrim Congress, Lilu from Live It, LOVE It and Nicole from More is Better.

Scenes from a Chunky Christmas

This year, Christmas truly was chunky in every sense of the word. Four jam-packed days of laughs, food, gifts, and very little sleep began on December 23rd with "our Christmas" at home before driving all over the state to see the families.

Jeremy lit a lovely fire for our festive dinner.

And we ate by fire light. Gorgeous.

THIS was the fancy dinner! Jeremy got to pick, and I wasn't complaining!

Next, we gave the animals their stockings. Let me tell you, it was hard for Jeremy to find a football in Michigan colors since we live in the depths of Michigan State country ...

MoJo clearly appreciated the prezzie Santa picked out for him.

And Cleo tries really hard to carry this around, but it is way too heavy for her!

Jeremy enjoys his peanut butter-filled stocking

And it looks like MoJo and Cleo each left me a little something in my stocking. They gave me some of their most prized possessions!!

This is my happy face.

And Jeremy finally got his space pen!!

Next, we headed to Yale. It was a smashing success because I ...

a) got lots of lovely presents ...

b) got my Dad to say he LOVED his presents (whoa.) ...

c) made my Mom cry with THIS present ...

d) and was FINALLY given my rightful title of Queen of Christmas.

After that, we booked it over to Jeremy's family where I ...

got to see adorable children swim in wrapping paper ...

got luxurious gifts ...

and got visited by Hanky the Christmas Poo.

Plus, we got to reveal this everywhere:

I hope your holidays were just as chunky!

Book Review

New book review up at The Bibliophile Review (warning ... it involves Twilight!)

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Guess What We Got for Christmas?

It took me 15 tries to get this picture because my hands were shaking so badly! Then, I was afraid that it might just be a cruel joke, since the line was so light. I booked it to the doctor the very next day to get a confirmation, and Jeremy and I decided we just could NOT wait to tell people, and Christmas was the perfect time.

So, we got to reveal THIS fantastic shirt:

Skillfully made with fabric paints by yours truly!

I also started a new blog for friends and family who want to keep up with our little soybean as he or she grows. Click here, and if you want to be a follower but do not know how, it is very easy. The easiest way is to create a gmail address, and then when you click to follow, it will let you use that information.

Much Love,
Preggers and the Soybean

Friday, December 25, 2009

Another Lame Attempt at Blogging Over Christmas

Half serious and half hilarious:

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate:
How do I put this delicately? The mere thought of egg nog makes me throw up in my mouth. There. Very classy.

My husband thinks I should like egg nog just because it is seasonal. He is constantly cursing the government for "taking away his noggy goodness" when the holiday season is over. This is not a good enough excuse for me.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
My Santa ALWAYS wrapped presents. I didn't even know that a Santa existed who refused to wrap presents until I met my husband. Their Santa just left their unwrapped gifts in piles. It really makes me wonder: if Santa can get away with skipping one of his two main responsibilities, could I use this to gain lenience at work? Probably not. But I bet I will still try.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
White lights, all the way. I like how it looks like stars. Very magical.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
You know, we never did, and I really should start next year. Jeremy's family asked if we hung up mistletoe and I said we didn't because then we'd be too busy making out to do anything else. Was that inappropriate? Thoughts?

5. When do you put your decorations up?
The weekend after Thanksgiving. I am usually still in a tryptophan-induced coma for that full week.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Hmm. We don't have any traditional dishes besides ham, which is meh in my book. So, I guess I will have to go with cookies.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child?
One very vivid memory is when I got my awesome pink and purple Huffy with a heart-shaped fanny pack attached to the front. We had finished opening all the presents, and my Dad asked me to go outside for something. Just as I am today, I was STRONGLY averse to coldness, and seeing how it had dared to dip below 55 degrees on Christmas day, I was not really inclined to do so. I whined for a little while, and then went outside to find MY BIKE!! AND, my Dad told me he didn't bother to put training wheels on because he was confident that I could ride without them. And I DID! The first try!! And it was MAGICAL! I will have to find that picture and scan it.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
Oh, Lord. Such a sad story. I believed in Santa WAY longer than anyone I have ever known. So, there I am, in fifth grade, minding my own business and loving Santa, and one of the mean girls in class found out and announced to the whole class that I was a baby and still believed in Santa. Most of the class pointed and laughed. Two of my girlfriends stuck up for me and said it was fine to believe in Santa and maybe *I* was the one who was right. But I saw the pity in their eyes. Oh, I saw it.

I went home and demanded the truth from my mother. Being unwilling to let her eldest child grow up, she insisted Santa was real. She probably also told me that those other kids' parents probably just didn't like them, and that is why they told them there was no such thing as Santa. I stormed into school the next day and announced this to the class, saying my mother would NEVER lie to me, and that is how I knew Santa was real. The laughter was louder. The pity in my friends' eyes was more evident. I repeated the confrontation with my Mom, and she caved. I was furious. And, to this day, I don't trust a word that comes out of her her mouth (just kidding, Mom!!)

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
Heck yes. I hate surprises and have little to no patience.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
Spent shells and beer cans. Or white lights, lots of ornaments (mostly from my mom), and a silver star. Depends on my mood.

11. Snow. Love it or dread it?
Hate for always and forever. I wish Mother Nature would place it in her asshole.

12. Can you ice skate?
I have the world's weakest ankles, and NO, it is NOT because no one has "taught me the right way." So don't comment and say ice skating is easy and you could teach me, because you would be DEAD WRONG. So seriously, don't do it.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift ever?
No. I am very appreciative, so I have lots of favorites. I can also fly.

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you?
Family and seeing the look on someone's face when I give them a gift they really love. Plus alcohol.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
Meh. I like most desserts. But lately we have been doing tiramisu, and that definitely does it for me.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Giving gifts!!!

17. What tops your tree?
A silver filigree star

18. Do you prefer giving or receiving?
Both. I LOVE things (Oh, things ... I am drooling at the thought of you!), but I get much more satisfaction out of seeing people like the gifts I get them.

19. Candy canes: Yuck or yum?
Definitely not yum, but I don't hate them. They never did anything to me.

20. Favorite Christmas movie?
A Christmas Story. It is on right now!

21. Favorite Christmas song?
"O Holy Night" and "All I Want For Christmas is You"

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Merry Christmas, Bitches!

Look! I made these lovely pictures for you! Or, I got them from here and here and here. Whatever.

Merry Freakin' Christmas!

Love ya!

Veronica (the Christmas Princess)

UPDATE (12/27, 10:37 PM):

UPDATE (12/28, 2:07 AM):

(passive aggressive note left at a Nativity scene.

Reads: DESPITE HIS ENEMIES JESUS WILL BE COMING BACK SOON!)

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

UPDATED! Kit Kat Mindfreaks (Now With More Mindfreaks)

Get this: In Japan, Kit Kats are amazingly popular. They are so popular that Nestle puts out limited edition flavors to cater to the huge demand.

I scrounged up as many pictures as I could (because, honestly, if I just listed the flavors, would you really believe me?). Update: I found a TON more, but I only added the freakiest I found. There were a lot of "regional" specialties and Japanese-food flavored ones, and then there were the plain ones like "dark chocolate" and semi-sweet chocolate." What I brought you is much awesome-er. Hold on to your panties folks. The list went from 24 to 54!

Don't worry, I won't bother with commentary after each flavor. I think they speak for themselves.