25 Christmases Later

So while I was taking a break from work today, I stumbled upon a classic Christmas tune that I LOVE to sing in the car. After seeing the video again (which I don’t believe I have in a decade or two) I couldn’t sing along because I was laughing all the way through it.


Oh yes, it’s George Michael and his pal Andrew with a bunch of friends having a grand ole time in the mountains… sipping wine in a ski chalet and giving “come hither” looks to the camera. An 80’s masterpiece.

Back when this song was popular, I was a teen in high school and thought George Michael was actually a straight male.

He fooled all of us I tell you!!

He with the Barry Gibb hair and Dentyne smile (If you don’t know who Barry Gibb is, or what Dentyne was… well, you suck. No, just kidding. …ok, maybe not.)

Oh, how this song brings back memories. “Oh, here’s this pin! Please wear it. Oh, you tramp, you Flashdance Queen…! Why, I wasted a perfectly good rhinestone pin I COULD HAVE WORN!!  or at least given to someone BETTER than YOU.” Pshaw.

1984 was a good year.  I remember Christmas of 1984.  I remember wearing my Guess Brand jeans, and my off the shoulder pink sweater from “The Limited”, complemented by my lime green plastic hoop earrings.  I probably just celebrated one of my friends birthdays with a Smurf cake, and I am definitely sure that I had Calvin Klein Obsession perfume on my holiday gift list, along with the soundtrack from the movie, “Against All Odds”.

That was 25 years ago. 

I am officially ancient.

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Funny Girl

Who watches Glee? Is Sue Sylvester not the most evil incarnation of an antagonist you’ve ever watched on a TV show? I love the dark humor, almost as much as I loved the rendition of “Don’t Rain on my Parade” this week. I think I liked it just as much as when Streisand sang it!!

Pure genius I tell you…

And for those wondering, NO, I am not abandoning my blog. Shifting focus, maybe, but not disappearing. If you dislike my vain attempts at humor, you may want to bail now. At the core of it all, I revert to laughter in times of uncertainty and I do plan on laughing again.  Just as soon as I stop crying.

I do.

I also have my posse of infertile friends to keep me busy obsessing about their cycles (now that I don’t have my own to think about). I’ve got my buds about to become mommies for the first time. Surely you want my unsolicted advice on teething and swaddling, right? And lastly, but not leastly… the rest of you… My  Super-Duper Band of Sisters and Supporters. You’ve always been there for me, I continue to be there for you.

I end with something I haven’t done a lot of lately. Picture time! as we approach the season of many holidays.  Sigh…  this could be the last one with Santa before he’s tarnished.  lol.

See?  I’m laughing!

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Looks like we made it

Another Christmas in the history books.

And, I might add, one of the most stress-free I’ve had in years. Primarily, because of the shaving down of the gluttony, but even better that Christmas fell on a Thursday, leaving 3 days to unwind, eat leftovers, and open every last twist tie on each toy.

Aaaah, now I feel rested.

Almost takes the sting out of the fact I am back to work today.


Uncle Clark, are you sure you ain’t Santa Claus?

aaaah, the holidays….

You might remember my post from two years ago (has it been THAT long?) about my favorite Christmas movie, Christmas Vacation.

Last night we fired up the DVD and watched it again for the gazillionth time.

It just never gets old.

The squirrel in the tree. The fried cat. The lime jello mold with cat food accents. The part when Clark has a ladder mishap while installing the “exterior illumination”.


It brings to mind a magical moment I had as a kid.

Years ago, when we lived in the infamous “blue house” my Dad did a Clark Griswold of his own. One year he decided to climb up on the roof in the middle of the night and do his best interpretation of Santa and his “eight tiny reindeer”.

“And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.”

My Mom woke up my brother and me to the sounds of various gardening equipment tapping on the roof, and my Dad’s oh so accurate depiction of Santa getting ready to come down the chimney.

Let me tell you, as a kid it sounded JUST LIKE Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, & Blitzen.

Well, until the HO HO HO’s turned into quite a clamor…
you see, my Dad (sorry, SANTA) was just about falling off the roof.

I don’t remember my Mom being concerned, but I do remember her giggling. My Dad didn’t know it then, but he was channeling Clark Griswold for sure. In fact, I bet if I looked out the wrong window, he would have been hanging upside down, tethered to the roof only by a stubborn gutter and a heavy-duty string of lights wrapped around his ankle.

We had dozens of stories like that when I was a kid. I am sure that the Griswolds were loosely based on my family.

Clark as my Dad, Ellen as my Mom, Rusty as my little brother, and me, Audrey. Come to think of it, we even looked like them.

Pic: Warner Bros. Pictures