Namely: Christmas shopping.

Being female, I think it’s generally expected that I both A) enjoy Christmas shopping and B) can be described as good at it. Despite what the male population may think, not all women have a natural talent for such things. While my friend Lyn has this amazing knack for finding the perfect gift for anyone, and doing so on a budget, I tend to sit and wonder what the heck I am going to do!!!

Being far removed from all of my friends and generally having no idea what they already have, need or want, it’s a bit perplexing to me where to begin on this matter. By some miracle I have managed to figure out what Snackpants is getting, though he won’t have any idea until he reads it here.

I would like to give mad props to Amazon for introducing the Universal WishList feature, and now they even have an option to ‘bookmark’ something on a person’s wish list if you are picking it somewhere else, thereby eliminating the problem of double gifting. Which has nothing to do with what I got for Snackpants. Or does it?

Regardless, we are 21 days, exactly 3 weeks out from Christmas Day, and I have no idea what to get half the people I would like to buy for! Never mind the fact that the Snacktacular holiday party is only a week away and several gifts must be procured by that time.

Christmas Elves! I need some guidance here!

The TomTom faithfully got us to the UF Plaza where the Tijuana’s is located, and we proceeded to park my car in the lot before enjoying some of the tasty goodness. We were in there for about 30 minutes and upon returning to the parking lot, Snackpants says…

“Where’s the car?”

It took a few minutes for my anxiety to fully kick into gear. I stared up and down the row, knowing full well that the car had been there and now there was a different, not-my vehicle parked in its place. I admit that I even did a ‘faculties’ check in my mind to see if I had gone insane.

Now, instead of being a rational human being, my mind automatically went to the worst possible scenario: someone stole my car. It took about 30 seconds for me to begin bawling on the sidewalk and mentally running through the list of everything we had just lost: 3 laptops, 2 iPods, my digital camera, my knitting. I ran the mental circle of “well, we have to report it stolen, but the VIN number is on the car and the registration is IN the car along with the insurance information, which I could also access online but my computer is gone” and all that jazz.

Snackpants managed to keep mostly calm, while he did a pretty poor job of keeping ME calm or being soothing in any fashion (sorry honey, but it’s true!). Fortunately, though, he was still in the right frame of mind to realize that we were surrounded by 22 signs signs stating “TOW AWAY ZONE” and he had misread the list of businesses for which the parking lot was used.

Luckily for us, but rather unfortunately for the owner of the car being towed next, the tow truck pulled up about 3 minutes into my hysterical crying and Snacky was able to verify that he had, in fact, taken my car not 20 minutes earlier, which was about 5 minutes after we parked it. Turns out the plaza pays a guy to sit and watch people violate the parking rules and then calls in their vehicles to be taken away.

From what we learned on the ride to the tow yard, towing is a HUGE business in Gainesville. There are about 12 companies that run around the clock picking up cars, which apparently have NOWHERE to park in that city that is actually legal. And far be it from anyone in the plaza to let us know that we were being retarded and failing to read the signs. Oh no. They couldn’t even be bothered to say “It was towed” while I was standing there losing my mind along with my tears.

Next trip, we are stopping in Ocala instead for some Flats.

Now that the weather has cooled down a bit in Middle Georgia, we have taken to opening the windows during the day and attempting to get as much of a cross breeze as possible. Now that the windows are open more often, Kitty can hear us inside and makes her presence known. Tonight she scared the crap out of me as I rounded the corner, because she also has a fondness for talking to me like this:

I think it’s really cute and funny when it’s not making me wet myself because she’s doing this at night. Nevermind the fact that she looks like a demon cat in the picture.

Now we just have to make sure that she doesn’t choose our porch as the birthplace for her kittens. Not sure how long cats let the babies cook before they birth them, but I think she’s getting close. She went and got herself knocked up while she was in heat a few months ago. Because having one stray cat to feed isn’t enough for all of us.

Monday night we ended up in Kevin Barry’s Pub on River Street where we found ourselves sitting at the bar with a party of drunk middle-aged guys. There were about 8 of them and we later found out that they work for a company that sells sewer pumps and had budgets due the next day so they were drinking away their worries because they were not going to hit their sales goals.

As the night wore on, one of them got slowly more and more drunk while the rest of them went home to get some sleep, and this one guy kept hitting on the waitress at the bar. Turns out she has a cop boyfriend, though he continued to pursue her anyway. In an effort to boost his morale and “help him out”, Snackpants made the following comment:

“It’s only serious if there’s a ring.”

Excuse me, what?!?

He tried to save himself after this one, but the damage had been done. That’s how you define serious, Mr. Snackpants? I can see we are going to have some problems then. Being that we live in a military town, I don’t think I would have too much trouble finding another casual boyfriend (or two) since I appear to be mistaken about the commitment level in this relationship.

When you come home to find me gone, having run off with some 19 year old recruit, remember that you dug your own grave with this one! Then you’ll recall the immortal words of the great Beyonce: “If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.”

Dance it out for me, Ava!

**Note: I am not actually going to find another (or more) “casual” boyfriends, in case you were seriously worried. I threatened Snackpants with a post about this one so here it is.

**Edit: I know he is getting a lot of crap about this one. I also know he didn’t mean it the way it came out. Blame it on the 3 Irish Car Bombs. I do.

It’s like a spill-proof sippy cup for adults. Does it get any better than that??

Made by Thermos, it is even more awesome than I expected it to be. Of course, it’s not a water bottle. That would be discrimination against other beverages. So it’s called a “hydration” bottle. Made of double insulated stainless steel. And I am pleased to say that it really does what it claims to do.

When you push the little grey button on the lid, it snaps open to reveal a straw, which is then pinched shut when you close the lid so there is no leaking. Hence, spill-proof sippy cup. Of course I had to hold the bottle upside down to test this out, because I am that mature. And of course, it did  not leak all over the place. Which was good, cause I was not in the mood to clean up that mess!

This bottle is made of pure awesome. It claims to keep cold things cold for up to 12 hours. I managed to test it for 3 hours today before I ran out of green tea, but it stayed cold the whole time. And the absolute best part was that the outside of the bottle does not feel cold, and it does not sweat! No more rings all over the place or getting your hands damp every time you want a drink. Pure. Awesome.

The only thing that would make it better is a carrying hook or strap of some kind. Though, since it does not sweat, I have zero problem putting it inside a bag with other things, so it may not need one after all.

You know the first thing I thought when I saw it today? “This would be perfect for my booze at Dragon*Con!”

I am such a nerd.

Now, there are a lot of channels with “reality” shows on these days, but I have to say that I believe VH1 to have the trashiest shows. Most recently we finished watching “Daisy of Love” and “Charm School” featuring the cast offs from “Rock of Love Bus” and “Real Chance of Love”. The guys on Daisy were all tattooed, pierced, guy-liner wearing, disease-laden emo musicians. The girls in Charm School were all trashy, alcoholic, prostitute types who can’t imagine why they can’t find love. Gee, I wonder. And I predicted the winners from both shows, cause I am that awesome.

A new series starts up today, called “Megan Wants a Millionaire” and “Real Chance of Love 2″ premieres tomorrow. “Tool Academy 2″ will start at the end of the month. I know they are trashy. I know exactly what I can expect from them and the drama that will ensue. And I cannot look away!!

I feel like I need to disinfect my eyes each time I watch one of these shows. And yet the morbid fascination of watching the disaster each week draws me back in. I may be a VH1 reality show addict. I think I need help.

Except for the cold hands doctor. We shall not redo that tomorrow.

Good night, people! For today was only a figment of your imagination…

There, I said it. Phew! This has only become a problem in recent years. More so in recent months. Something about the creation process has turned my brain to mush and all I want to do is knit beautiful things… and then give them away! I think it’s a disease, really.

Today we hitched up the wagon and rode into town (which is what I like to say when we get off our butts and make the 20 mile drive into Macon) for 3 purposes: visit the storefront side of the Snackpants place of employment, take some of his work shirts to be embroidered with the company logo, and visit the yarn store that is sadly going out of business but happily has everything 50% off. SCORE!

This is my haul:

Cost less than $40 too, which is pretty awesome if you know anything about yarn. I got a LOT of the pink one, and the purple is the same brand. I think the light pink is going to become a lovely hat for myself, the green is alpaca and I have never used it so figured what the hey! The white looking ones in the middle are actually more of an off-white with blue highlights. Should be very nice!

The problem with going to the store to buy yarn with no idea what you will make from it. I find that it causes me to buy more things than I actually need (like I actually *need* any of it!) but it also causes me to find more things to make. Or something like that.

The REAL problem is finding homes for everything I make! I just don’t need 86 knit hats and scarves and baby hats and blankets and all that.

Time to run. I think Snackpants just called me a wench so I am going to punch him in the junk. Or at least threaten to.

Snackpants does not get to enjoy the Grape Fanta as frequently as he may like, due to the predominant ethnic population at his place of business, who happen to share his affinity for the fizzy purple drink. As a way of satiating his love, I now have (sitting here beside me on my desk) a shirt that smells like purple.

I am undecided as to whether or not I will actually wear this shirt. Were my social life more active, I would be concerned about being sniffed by virtual strangers. On the other hand, it eliminates the need for deodorant or perfume, as long as I don’t operate heavy machinery or go for a jog. I am thinking about just keeping it in a Ziploc so as to preserve it’s purple smell for as long as possible, since the scent comes out in 8-12 washes.

What ever is a girl to do! If nothing else, I will take the sticker off before wearing it in public. No one should walk around wearing an open invitation like that!