Can't Handle Christmas Anymore

Deep breath.  Another holiday season of complete dysfunction with non-blood relatives has come to pass.  Thank God.  Not that my own blood relatives are any better, but they are 2,000 miles away and not around to piss me off on a daily basis.  This year was especially interesting.  I suppose part of it is my own growing detachment from this clan of whack-o's.

I ALWAYS host Christmas morning breakfast.  There is a tradition in Clan Whack-o that goes back to their family in northern Europe.  How I got suckered into hosting is beyond me.  Anyway, that's beside the point.  I've been doing it for several years.  Still, about two weeks prior to Christmas I snail mail out a notice that I'm planning on hosting and what time breakfast will be ready.  Nobody has to guess or assume.  I loathe the 'third party' indirect invitation that you will get from an aunt or somebody that goes something like this, "Well, I know that Betty is serving Christmas breakfast.  I'm sure if you showed up they would love it."

Maybe not.

Invitations to somebody's home for an event should ALWAYS be direct.  Nobody should hear it third hand.  Plus, life changes or other plans may interfere with this year's traditional Christmas breakfast and the hostess is not hosting this year due to travel plans, work, health reasons or WHATEVER.   Invitations need not be formal.  A phone call usually suffices.  Also, never assume just because it's been a tradition for the past few years that it's going to happen every year. 

That's where I messed up. 

Clan Whack-o was silent on any plans for Christmas dinner.  I saw some of them two days prior to Christmas and nothing was said about anything.  OK.  I can deal with that.  If they're not in the mood to deal with us that's their privilege.  Nobody owes me/us anything.  Not wanting to be caught without anything for Christmas dinner, I ordered my own slab of meat and went grocery shopping planning our own little gathering.  No hard feelings.  I was looking forward to the small, intimate gathering and meal.

That's when all hell broke loose.

The phone rings Christmas Eve at about 11:30 AM with a member of Clan Whack-o on the other end.  She says, "You know I'm hosting Christmas dinner."

To which I replied in a very non-angry tone, "Ummmmmmmm, no I did not.  Nobody said anything to us, so I went grocery shopping already and planned our own meal."

That's when the bawling started from Clan Whack-o.  I went on to say that nobody said anything to us, and I did not know if Clan Whack-o may have had plans with their inlaws in SF to celebrate.  I did not know if they all made travel plans and they were all going out of town, or busy with work, had the flu, think I'm a bitch and don't want me around, or just plain not in the mood to cook Christmas dinner.  Bottom line:  I was not a mind reader.

You would not believe the angry phone calls Clan Whack-o made.  Wow.  I'm the BAD GUY because I did not read minds, did not assume anything, and did not invite myself to their house. 

How am I thanked by putting up with this crap?  By having the Melting Snow Woman (name from rapid, surgically induced weight loss) passed out from booze and pills in my kitchen at 1:30 PM while I'm cleaning up bacon grease off the ceiling (don't ask) as Melting Snow Woman's mother looks at her adoringly saying over and over, "Oh.... look at my poor baby."

Poor Baby was slumped over in a kitchen chair drooling.  She had the head-bob thing going from time to time.  That's how we knew she was still alive. 

Oh, it gets better.

Later on when Melting Snow Woman wakes up and comes to, the party moves to another member of Clan Whack-o.  Melting Snow Woman goes on to grab the nieces and nephews (including her own daughters) in very inappropriate ways.  When the one daughter retaliates against Melting Snow Woman for feeling her up, the mother of Melting Snow Woman tisk-tisk's the VICTIM of what I consider child molestation.

That did it.  I'm out of there.  I warned my own kids of their sick relative's behavior and out the door we went.  What kind of sick family dynamic coddles a drugged up, drunk, child molester and scolds the victims?  As we were leaving, Melting Snow Woman's mother was rubbing her drunk daughter's head and cooing about how much she loved her. Who is sticking up for the kids being grabbed and fondled by Melting Snow Woman?  Do they know how damaging this is to them?  How fucked is it that grandma is protecting the perpetrator and the rest of the family stands by saying NOTHING?

Sick.  The entire family needs AA, Co-Dependents Anonymous, detox, and intensive therapy.

Snoopy's Ice Arena

Thank you, Charles Schultz, for bringing a little bit of Minnesota to Santa Rosa.  Like you, I miss the proliferation of ice skating rinks that are scattered everywhere.  I also miss shoveling off the ice on the lake to set up my own skating area.  However, I DON'T miss the dogs pissing on the ice that causes a frozen, yellow bump that catches my toe pick causing me to fall face first.  SMACK!!  It was like heaven to shovel off a nice, flat, snow-free, bump-free hunk of ice to practice our Dorthy Hamil moves on. 

Oh Charles, you would be heart broken if you went back to Minnesota now.  The warming houses that once were the neighborhood hangouts in our youth have all gone by the wayside due to budget cuts by the parks-n-rec.  Gone are the days of getting the kid with the longest scarf to give it up to play 'whip.'  Gone are the days of coming in from outside with frozen toes and everybody fighting for space on the wall heater to warm up.  Gone are the days of everybody fighting over the thing that looked like a J-hook to lace up our skates with.  Also gone are the days of everybody fighting over the boot box that had two slats of wood with about an inch of space in the middle that comfortably cradled our blade while we laced up. Also gone is the bowling alley in the basement of Apache Plaza and the little place where everybody would get their blades sharpened for about a buck.  Ahhhhhhhh........ there was nothing like newly sharpened blades on a warn-in pair of skates.  Awesome.  Hitting clean ice with sharp blades felt like butter.  So much control.  So much precision. 

I've been to Snoopy's Ice Arena a few times.  People don't stop to think that ice skating is a very dangerous sport.  Some of it is people just being unfamiliar with the sport.  I suppose it's awkward for people to skate for the very first time and getting used to the sensation of it all.  I would not know.  The first time I skated on ice was at the age of three.  It's more natural than walking for me. 

That was until I went back to Snoopy's as I was feeling lonely for ice.  I did not have my own skates available, so I rented a pair.  What shocked me was how DULL they were when I hit the ice.  Dull skates are like a dull knife -- very dangerous.  No wonder the newbies were flailing all over in the crappy, rent-a-skates. 

Moral of the story:  Ask for sharp skates. 

Christmas Countdown

Ready or not, here it comes.... Christmas insanity.  In speaking with my female friends we are all having mixed feelings about hosting any gatherings.  It seems the same women host year after year with little or no reciprocation, help, or thanks.  It's expected.  We fantasize that it would be so easy to just show up somewhere with a bottle of wine and a pie. 

See, nobody really wants to host because it's soooooooo much WORK.  It's the planning, cleaning, cooking, shopping, cleaning up afterwards, extra tables, extra this, extra that, etc.  The reward for jumping through hoops for your inlaws or whomever?  Somebody will bitch that the gravy was not to their liking or the meat was too over/under cooked, walk out the door, and leave you with a pile of dirty dishes that reaches the ceiling. 

The non-hosting females chime in saying, "Oh, but we will all pitch in and HELP!  You won't have to do anything."

....another line of shit.  Having too many in the kitchen is just fodder for disaster.  They are always just in my WAY and constantly bugging me as to where I keep my wooden spoons, saran wrap, and the like while their kids are running amok and spilling orange juice all over my couch.

Why do we do this year after year?  Good question.  Everybody claims TRADITION.  I say bullshit.  What are we ingraining in our daughters?  To become slaves? 

Big Shrimpin'

The History Channel is getting desperate for material.  First, we had IRT (Ice Road Truckers).  How many episodes can we take of semi trucks cracking the ice and fearing falling in the water before the plot gets as tired as a re-run?  Yeah, it's cold.  Yeah, ice can support a tremendous amount of weight.  Yeah, a blizzard can mess you up.  (Yawn and reach for remote)  What else is on?

The History Channel now presents us with (drum roll, please) Big Shrimpin.  No kidding.  The show features cast rejects from the movie Deliverance complete with missing teeth, stained t-shirts, corn cob pipes, and a southern drawl so thick that although technically speaking English subtitles are needed.  They spend their days trolling the gulf dragging their nets for shrimp.  Yup.  That's it.  They get the bad weather episode, the engine trouble episode, and the episode where Litta Fella almost gets eaten by a shark.  Oh, I forgot the episode where Captain Roundhead's son almost had his foot explode like a giant zit from puss and infection after spilling gasoline on it and lighting it on fire and they had to go back to shore to bring him to a hospital.  Tuff guy. 

Then we have Captain Redbone who looks like a growly pirate.  He always has a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. 

Congrats Middle Age Betch!

I know a woman who is almost 50 years old.  She is a mother of multiple teen children who are running rampant around Sonoma County stealing clothing items and whatnot from friends and fucking whomever.  The marriage itself has been in and out of trouble for two decades. 

The husband works his ass off.  He owns his own business.  The wife is a high-maintenance, hyper, prima donna who really does not want to work.  Her cover for now is being a full-time student.  Yeah..... tell me about that psychology major as your kids are caught stealing at the local store and about the cops called to your house on a domestic violence. ....and you want ME to pay YOU for therapy????????????? 

Bottom line:  At age 50, you are closer to retirement than to launching a new career.  I totally encourage you to educate yourself, but don't expect an employer to pick you up as you fill out your social security forms.  At this point you are wasting your time and money getting a general degree.  Your return on the educational investment is negative.  The cover of full-time-student-intellectual-wanna-be is wearing thin.  Gig is up.  Get a job.

Anti-Social Social Networking

Yes, in the aftermath of the bored housewives on prozac Facebook lameness f****** overload I will create the ultimate media -- social networking for the anti-social. Posting any matter revealing anything personal will result in your fingers being zapped by keyboard causing your manicure to melt.  Status updates declaring your undying love in regards to yourself and your wonderful significant other will cause tear gas to emit from your webcam.  Yes, we are all gagging and crying, too..... you might as well join in. 

No, we don't post much.... we don't WANT to.  Posting would mean you would know our whereabouts, and we all know how noid we all are fearing black government vans following us around.  Besides, being the anti-social rejects we are, posting would make us more visible -- something we go to great lengths to avoid. 

Bottom line:  The people who don't post are the ones worth inquiring about.  They are too busy living their lives to be constantly hooked to some ego-stroke software app giving constant updates nobody gives a fuck about.   

Graziano's and McNear's: Petaluma's old and tired establishments

Once upon a time there was a nice restaurant in Petaluma called Graziano's.  The place had its peak 15 or so years ago.  What used to be a killer meal with killer service has become tired and complacent -- much like McNear's down the street where the owners think they are owed a living.

Graziano's:  Food is still pretty good, but service is tired.  The meal is not worth the price.  Watch out for wine rip-off.  A bottle of Raffanelli zin that used to be about $45 a year ago jumped to $80.  And..... just WTF is up with the stupid-ass vodka bar?  I could go back to Minnesota and drink vodka out of the trunk of my car in -40* weather.  Really.  Vodka bar and Italian restaurant does not go together.  Think of a better gimmick, QUICKLY.

McNear's:  The food sucks.  The owner is an asshole.  I'm not sure if the public knows that the entire building is infested with rodents.  Take a look, people..... that's NOT pepper on your food.  I've known of a lot of people who barf after eating their chicken strips.  For real.  I'm surprised that the rodent police have not shut them down yet. 

Bottom line:  Petaluma has many, MANY eating establishments worthy of your business.   The above mentioned do not.  Better yet -- go to Cotati.  Cotati has the best of the best in Sonoma County -- and I mean the best of everything.

Just so you know........ a lot of downtown Petaluma restaurants are on the Petaluma River.  The river is infested with rats.   McNear's and Graziano's are no exception.  If you like rat shit in your food...... oh well..... bon apetit!

Smelly Towel Head

.....oh, I suppose I should refer to the towel head as a sheet head.  I like the ring of that better.  Sheet head.  ha ha ha ha

I have a dear friend who lives in England.  Back in 2005 we went to visit my dear friend and her family.  We flew from San Francisco to Minneapolis - Minneapolis to Amsterdam -- Amsterdam to Manchester.  Damn. That was the longest string of flights ever.  Using frequent flier miles was never more torturous.  Anyway, the flight from Amsterdam to Manchester was the most bothersome.  The flight was FULL of Mulsim-type freaks who were perving on my 9 year old daughter.  They also smelled so badly that I had to burrow my head downward and inhale into a pack of spearment gum as their body oder was really that obnoxious.  I would have thrown up otherwise.  I kid you not.  Their body oder really WAS that bad.  I'm surprised they were allowed on the flight to begin with as their body oder alone qualified as chemical warfare. 

Upon arrival I told my English friend of the flight of horrid perverts and smells.  She told me they felt completely overwhelmed on their tiny island of foreign invaders.  I completely understand. 

Duggar Miscarrage

Even God is telling the Duggars to stop reproducing like rabbits.  Enough is enough.  Really. You could have stopped at six kids, but that does not warrant your own tv show and media frenzy.  Sorry about the missed commercial endorsements for breaking the world record of popping out kids like a pez despenser, Jim Bob and Betty Sue.  Are you Mexican?   You all sure as shit act and reproduce like them.  Perhaps you're just white trash.  White trash tends to reproduce enmasse.  Are you Mormon?  It's not going to do Mitt Romney any good for kids who aren't old enough to vote.  Are you Catholic?  I have to give Catholics credit for having homosexual sex that does not end up with another (yawn) unwanted pregnancy in this already overpopulated world. 

I hear a squeal coming from the backyard.  It's a racoon giving birth.  I thought for a moment it was Michelle Dugar.  Please, put your uterus into retirement.  It's time.  Besides, I'm sure your husband is really more interested in your 20 year-old daughter(s) right about now.  Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that's the family dirty little secret. 

See you all in Fucked Up Family Therapy.

Censorship - the Great Government Goal

I'm leery about the vanishing written word on actual paper.  I'm leery about the post office going away despite the fact that I sort my mail outside standing at the recycling bin and throw away 95% of it.  I'm leery about cutting library hours even more.  Here's why.....

Just think about how easy it is to edit or delete information when it comes in electronic form.  Just think about how easy it is to track all electronically submitted correspondence.  All sense of privacy is gone.  Just think how dependent we are on electricity to even access information via electronic means.  There is potentially too much power at the hands of the controlling few. 

I'm not so sure about all of this, guys.  The Big Brother we all feared in 1984 and then dismissed has come home to roost. 

Lucky's Self Checkout

I blogged over a year ago about how I loathe both Lucky and the self-checkouts.  Scum attracts scum and now there is criminal activity going on with scammers stealing debit card information.  Great.  I hope the payroll taxes and workers' compensation insurance savings was worth it for Lucky to use robo-employees.  I find it hard to believe that survailence cameras did not pick up anything.  I suppose when Lucky employees are too busy chatting with other employees and ignoring the customers there is no time to pay attention to what's going on. 

Here's a tip for using your debit card.  Be very careful where you use it.  Don't use your debit card at gas pumps, outdoor bank teller machines, or other places that are not operated by a human indoors.  Crime rings are planting skimming devices EVERYWHERE. 

Disclose the Office Budgets - NOW!

CA State Assembly Members are right now at this moment scrambling on how to cover up their obscene office budgets.  Only the honest ones will disclose immediately and not hide behind some bullshit "further direction" prompt that will more than likely be scripted smoke and mirrors tactics put together with yet even more nonsense politician logic.

Of course they're hiding something..... believe me.  They don't WANT you know.  

Hint to the public and to the press:  Keep digging.  Like I've said 1,000 times before, it only gets worse.  Don't believe for one minute that CA's budget woes are from keeping some library open.  The closer you get to the top, the more obnoxious and wasteful it becomes.  The politicians are all hands in the cookie jar.  You, dear taxpayers, are getting screwed without a kiss.

Mitt Romney.... why don't they like me?????

.....because you're a mormon.... or it is a moron..... or both....hard to tell the diff. 

Mortgage Craziness

True story.  I know of people (not personal friends of mine, I might add) who are getting PAID by the bank not to trash their house before it gets foreclosed on.

What?  Has the entire world gone nuts?  I guess so.  The people I'm talking about bought a luxury home and the woman drives around in a fancy European sports car.  No shit.  Not only do they skip out on their mortgage, live somewhere without making a payment for a year and a half, but get a BONUS for not trashing the place prior to moving out. 

I'd have lots of money for Christmas gifts, too, if I could live somewhere payment-free and then got bonus money to move out without being a complete pig.  The people walk away from their mortgage and get paid.  The bank takes a loss and then cries to taxpayers for a bailout.  I really am stupid for being honest and trying.