Category Archives: random

My brief encounter with an Olympic Silver medal…

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and greatness…

I took the first flight out to Boston this morning. Right before we took off, the flight attendant announced that we had an Olympic Silver medalist in our midst: Molly Schaus, Goalie on the US Olympic Women’s Hockey team, was on the flight. We all clapped. The flight attendant walked down the aisle with the Silver Medal so that we could see the medal. I so wanted to touch it but of course I didn’t ask…

I was surprised to realize that Molly was sitting in the very back of the plane. For sure, for someone that just won us a Silver medal at the Winter Olympics you’d thought United Airlines would have given her a better seat. But the flight was full, and I’d like to assume that otherwise the crew would have tried hard to set her up with a better seat.

After I got off the plane, I waited by the gate, feeling a bit silly and awkward. I frantically tried to google her name on my Blackberry to make sure that I’d heard the flight attendant correctly. At the same time I was panicking since really, HOW was I going to recognize her?! Then business suits walked past me one after another. No. Not Molly. No. Not her. No way that’s her. Then I saw a young woman by herself, and you could tell by the way she carried herself that she is a professional athlete. Isn’t it amazing someone like me who never ever likes to exercise knows this about an athlete?

This may surprise you, but I am shy, in front of strangers, in public. I mustered up all the courage I had at that moment to step into the middle of the walkway and asked, “Are you Molly?”

She looked a bit surprised, but quickly smiled and said, “Yes.”

I extended my hand, and thankfully she took it.  I shook her hand and said, “Congratulations!!!”

She seemed happy and maybe a bit shy about my putting her on the spot. “Thanks!” she said. Then I watched her walk away.

Imagine that. An Olympic Silver Medalist. And I shook her hand!

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Sorry about the quality of the picture. I didn’t see anybody else taking out their phones to take a picture of this awesome moment, and frankly, was a bit disappointed at my planemates for not making a big deal out of this. This IS a big deal. Or is it just me? Anyway, I am still very excited about this chance encounter. Silly? Maybe. But you bet I will forever seek out the news of Molly Schaus and cheer for her.

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Olympic Silver Medal - US Women's Hockey

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What I learned from the Olympics*… *Not what you think

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We have been watching the Winter Olympics. I didn’t plan to. But what’s not to love really? Finally something on prime time that does not involve dead bodies, sexual predators, or its own mythologies.

Naturally I gravitated towards Ice Dancing and Figure Skating. (No, I don’t really want to engage in a debate about how Ice Dancing does not count as a sport and should not even be included in the Olympics. Thank you very much).

Last Sunday though, we caught a glimpse of the Super-Combined and the boys and I were hooked. We don’t ski. Skiing has never entered my mind as a recreational option despite our proximity to some relatively inexpensive hills in Wisconsin. The word “skiing” conjures up images of Vail and the fancy schmancy aura surrounding “Skiing resorts” in my psyche. Memories of seeing people refusing to do away with their lift tickets still hanging on their zipper pulls long after their last skiing trip without any hope of ever going back again this season.

What was shown on TV was exhilarating. The commentators were talking about Bode Miller as this Comeback Kid. Everybody loves a good comeback story. So we held our breath as he rushed downhill. The camera at one point cut to his mother, I assume, with her hand to her mouth watching her son intently, perhaps with a bit comprehension. The camera zoomed in further to try to catch an emotional moment. Everybody loves a good human interest perspective in the games of sports.

With his eyes still on the screen, my oldest commented,

“You know, when I or [my brother] go to the Olympics? You have to remember that you are always on camera. So you have to remember to look good all the time. Don’t let the camera catch you tweeting or Facebooking! That’s the lesson we should learn here.”

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Our job goal as far as our kids are concerned as parents is to never embarrass them. I am sure with me as a mother THIS is constantly on his mind. Later when one of the athletes crashed on the snowy course and thus dashed his dream for any medal, for yet another human interest angle, the camera mercilessly zoomed in on the father who buried his face in his hands, leaned his forehead against the fence, visibly shaking.

My preteen reached across the sofa, grabbed both of my hands, and besought me,

“Promise me. You will never do that! Don’t cry like that if we lose. Promise me!”

I simply laughed. For sure, this is a promise I will not be able to keep…

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I also learned that athletes for Winter Sports live on the wild-er side, and they either have no mental filters because they are so adorably honest, or they are simply really really high, like “high”, when they are on the high mountains…

Read this quote from Norway silver medalist Odd-Bjoern Hjelmeset as reported in Sports Illustrated… and tell me if it is not one of the best…

“My name is Odd-Bjoern Hjelmeset. I skied the second lap and I f—– up today. I think I have seen too much porn in the last 14 days. I have the room next to Petter Northhug and every day there is noise in there. So I think that is the reason I f—– up. By the way, Tiger Woods is a really good man.”

(Sports Illustrated Writer’s note: By far the craziest quote released by the VANOC information desk over the past 13 days.)

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Or this quote from Graham Watanabe, a snowboarder from the U.S.

“It’s feeling a lot more like this is my first Olympics. Try to imagine Pegasus mating with a unicorn and the creature that they birth. I somehow tame it and ride it into the sky in the clouds and sunshine and rainbows. That’s what it feels like.”

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Update: Naptime Writing had written in a post “Lessons from the Olympics” which has a list of the things she learned about human nature from this Olympics that was observant, profound, hilarious at the same time. Knowing my readers, I just want to emphasize hilarious. I was grateful that she commented on the “fake flesh-colored” costumes worn by the skaters to make them look like they are wearing skimpy outfits when actually they are not. So it’s not just me.

Scary Movies

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The boys and I are still awake.

We went to bed at around 10:30 pm. Or rather, we started getting into bed at around 10:30 pm. When my husband is out of town, both boys like to sleep in the big bed with me. I let them. You know why? Because I am scared. I want to keep both of them in the same room with me, with the bedroom door locked. If I remember, I’ll have my Blackberry with me in case the phone line is cut off.

THAT is always the first thing to go.

You know what I am talking about. The movies. The scary movies.

I never watch them. Except the few movies I watched when I was younger before I knew better. I stay away because I know my brain will choose to replay the scenes at the most inconvenient moments. Even the ones that are not billed specifically as scary movies, the thrillers, now add to my psychological burden.

Just as we were finally settled down, after I had threatened hundreds of times that I would send the boys back to their rooms if they didn’t go to bed, RIGHT NOW!, we heard a noise. Something had fallen.

No. Some object was knocked down.

There is a difference, isn’t it? Inside my head. Fallen vs. Knocked down

The heater started up at the exact moment. Ok. So maybe it was just my overactive imagination. Wouldn’t be the first time. I decided to ignore it.

“What was that?” My oldest sat up. “Did you hear that?”

“Yup. I did.” Resigned to a restless, probably sleepless night. Again.

He lied back down. Thank goodness. I waited for the deep breathing that signals their drifting to sleep. In the mean time, I became more and more alert.

I am so exhausted, I thought. I really should try and fall asleep. That was probably nothing. Yup. It was NOTHING. Go to sleep, you crazy woman.

As on cue, all of the movie plots involving home invasion rose up to my consciousness, scenes after scenes played themselves out behind my tightly squeezed-shut eyelids. The consequences became more and more dire because my kids would be in the movies. I am ashamed to admit this, and I was shocked by myself, but at that moment, as the plots unfolded in my frenzied mind’s eye, each one worse than its predecessor, I thought to myself, “I wish I had a gun. I wish I had bought a gun and practiced at a firing range,” because I would do anything, anything, including something that’s so against my ingrained beliefs, to protect my boys from harm. All of a sudden, I couldn’t wait for them to be all grown-up and no longer living with me. They’d be in their own apartments. Safe and sound asleep. Exactly how I like them.

“Mom? I am still thinking about the noise.” Great. I don’t need to pass on my neurosis to my children. Is it too late?

“It’s probably nothing. Just go to sleep ok?”

But we both knew we wouldn’t be able to get any shuteye, thinking that there was someone in the house.

“What are you doing?” My oldest was alarmed as I got out of the bed.

“I am going to check it out.” I checked the cordless phone for a dial tone. Still working. GOOD! I handed him the phone, “Dial 911 if anything.”

“I am coming with you!”

“No. You are staying here with your brother!”  I searched the bedroom for a likely weapon. Both the steel Samurai sword and the steel Excalibur are too heavy for me to wield with any convincing malice. The wooden Samurai sword would have to do.

I opened the door and turned on all the lights from the light switches by the door. No scuttling of footsteps. GOOD! The downstairs of the house looked exactly the way we had left it. Messy. Perhaps we should have deliberately left Lego pieces on the floor as deterrent. I surveyed their bedrooms upstairs first. Nothing out of order. Internal sigh of relief.

“Are you really going to whack the bad guy with the sword?” My oldest appeared beside me.

“What are we doing?” Mr. Monk caught up with us.

“I am just going to check downstairs.”

“I am coming with you!” My oldest handed me the phone while he took the sword away from me.

“Me too!” Mr. Monk shouted.

The next ten minutes we searched the house, trying to locate the cause of the noise.

“Ah I know. It is THIS.” “No. Not it.” “Ok. It must have been THIS.” “No. Not it.” “Could it be THIS?” “No. Not that either.”

(Wouldn’t you know that as we walked around the house trying to solve the mystery, I was picking up the house along the way! I seriously need help!)

Finally, I saw a picture frame lying on the floor by a bookshelf.  “Here’s what happened…” As the real Mr. Monk on TV would have said: The books next to it had apparently toppled and knocked the picture frame to the floor.

Mystery solved.

Back to bed for the boys. My oldest insisted on staying by my side “To guard you!”

“Please go to bed with your brother. He needs to be in bed.” For once, he left with his younger brother without arguing.

As I conclude this post, they are both sound asleep. I hope they were not traumatized by this incident. As for me? Well, when I picked up my Blackberry to bring it to bed with me, Never again without! I saw that my boss had sent out an email marked URGENT. Sleep is overrated anyway. At least in my neurotic world.

And I will never, ever, ever, watch another scary movie in my life. I scare myself enough.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Cashews Are Nuts…

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And so are YOU!*

* Tis said with love and affection and gratitude…

This post is a belated thank-yous to many of you who have bestowed me with love and support and honors.

Chris over @ Vintage Christine (whose subtitle “I’m not old, I’m vintage” has become my battle cry) sent me a surprise Valentine’s Day gift box.

It went down like this: her cat sat on a card with my name on. Cat nip, my friend. Cat nip.

Valentine's Day Surprise from Vintage Christine

Thank you, Chris, for the wonderful surprise! I would like to tell you that yours was the ONLY Valentine’s Day present I received. But, my lovely husband beat you to it by putting away the Christmas tree without me asking. (Truth be told: I almost got an orgasm when I came home on Valentine’s Day and saw the empty spot where the Christmas tree once was… He does know me very well. Probably too well for our own good…)

Andrea over @ A Little Bit Rock n Roll tagged me in January THIS YEAR to learn “10 things about me”. I am more than 10 kinds of crazy, that’s for sure, but I digress… The first thing you need to know about me is I WUV YOUR BLOG.

A Vapid Blonde @ A Vapid Blonde and Magda @ I’m Just Sayin’ both shared with me the “I LOVE YOUR BLOG” award that they themselves have deservedly won. Thank you, ladies! And, at the risk of sounding like a valley girl, I love you crazy women on the coasts. I do!

I LOVE YOU BAAACCCKKK!

To accept this award, apparently I also need to tell you something about me.

Elizabeth, or “Mrs. Darcy” as I like to secretly call her inside my head, @ The Sky Is Falling also shared with me her award, “THE CIRCLE OF FRIENDS”.

You complete me. Yes, all of you!

To accept this award, I have to tell you 5 things that I enjoy…  This is easy.

Sex

Sex

Sex

Sex

Sex

Well, usually that’s not how it goes down over here. So my second best choice would be:

A clean house. (Preferably not by me)

Shelli @ Shaking the Tree gave me a two-fer:

Thank you Shelli! I especially love the “50 Cents” award as I consider his story of rising from a drug-dealing youth to international renown to be rather inspiring.

Randa over @ Sometimes I Even Amaze Myself passed along a beautiful award… Thank you, Randa! Now I also need to tell you 7 interesting things about myself.


I am truly honored that y’all see enough in my irreverent ramblings to stop by my little piece of therapeutic heaven and actually listen to what I have to say, let alone sharing these awards with me. Thank you so much.

Seriously, guys. There really is not that much about me that’s exciting. Whatever I have, I have been letting loose here on this blog. Are you sure you are not bored already?! So after I have done my math and drawn up a Venn diagram, in order to follow all the rules, I will share with you 5 things that I enjoy and 5 more things about myself.

5 things I enjoy that may or may not be within my easy grasp, am obsessed with, and/or covet (in addition to sex and a clean house):

  • The ocean (or more accurately, staring at the ocean)
  • Toblerone
  • The smell of oncoming rain shower on a hot summer day
  • People watching (preferably in a sidewalk cafe, even better if in Paris…)
  • Bubble tea (No, Elly, it is NOT ok to mention “Pearl Necklace” to me when I am telling you how much I enjoy Pearl Bubble teas…)

5 things about me (in addition to me being Chinese and ALL THAT this tiny fact indicates…)

  • I am certifiable anal retentive. I cannot relax until the dishes are done, the floor has been picked up, and “things” have been put away. I have been known to wake up in the middle of the night to clean up the house. That being said, I only need everything to be off the floor. So what if I have 3 hampers of clothes waiting for me to fold? As long as the clothes stay inside the hampers, I am fine with it. I am a Hypocrite when it comes to housework, I guess.
  • I am obsessed with multi-tasking and efficiency when it comes to housework. I NEVER EVER walk through the house without picking up and putting away anything. I actually plan the next piece of dish I will wash as I am doing the dishes. It is hard to explain. You need to be there.
  • Things that have profound effect on me in my youth: Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian Wood, Wim Wenders’ Der Himmel über Berlin and Hermann Hesse’s Demian (Yes, I am Cliche Himself… Don’t judge…)
  • I have attempted suicide in high school. No. I really did not want to die.
  • I can make myself cry on demand. If we see each other, I can demonstrate for you. It’s really amazing.

(HOLD THE ORCHESTRA!)

As a reward for sitting through my lllloooonnnnggggg acceptance speech, I will present the

I GIVE GOOD BLOG award

The best name for a blog award. Hands down.

JennyMac over @ the immensely popular Let’s Have a Cocktail really surprised me when she presented me with this award last… ummm, eh, huh, hmmm, December… (I am very embarrassed… I got distracted by all your wonderful blogs. So stop judging me!)

Following the rules, I get to pass this award along to four wonderful blogs. This is rather difficult since I know way more than four blogs that deserve this award. I have been agonizing over this since last December and I am driving myself crazy over this! No wonder Simon Cowell is always so grouchy. The pressure. Ah, the pressure gets to you…

After making the heart-wrenching process called “drawing names from a hat” (since I do not have a cat like Chris does…), I shall pass this gorgeous, sexy award to the following four hot steamy sexy blogs:

A Little Bit Rock n Roll

Brilliant Sulk

BugginWord

The Sky Is Falling

As the rule for the award dictates, I shall go mix up a cocktail for myself and I hope you will be able to do the same. I hope too that you will be able to find time to visit these blogs mentioned above and I am pretty sure you will like what you find there.

Thank you again for the support you all have shown me. Knowing that you are out there really makes my Tron-like existence rewarding and ironically, my life in flesh more bearable.

Happy VCNYAHS Day!

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February 14.

One of the Hallmark Holiday is celebrated on this day.

It also happens to be the day Anna Howard Shaw was born. Ms. Shaw was a leader of the women’s suffrage movement and a physician nonetheless. In the 19th century. A female physician. Imagine that.

Liz Lemon on 30 Rock dared to lead the movement to displace Valentine’s Day by shouting “Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day!” and I am sorely tempted to follow her lead…

(Watch the best episode of 30 Rock, in fact arguably the best “Valentine’s Day” episode in the TV Sitcom history so far, imo, “Anna Howard Shaw Day”…)

… IF it were not for the Valentine’s Day “card” I received from Mr. Monk…

"No matter how much you are stressed out I still love you"

So… In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, this is the card I really really would love to give to Mr. because I am a truth seeker…

Turns out, the card goes both ways... (Courtesy of Marcy @ "The Glamorous Life")

This year, February 14 also happens to be the Chinese New Year Day. The Chinese operated (and still do to a large extent) by the lunar calendar which makes a lot of sense if you are (or have been) an agriculture-based society and your livelihood depends on knowing the climate and weather and minor things like that.

Happy Chinese New Year!

Here is wishing you all a

Happy ValentineChineseNewYearAnnaHowardShaw Day!!!

p.s. Now raise your hand if the thought of The Year of Tiger makes you start humming Eye of the Tiger… If you weren’t… You are welcome!

sacré bleu

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I rushed to the Religious Ed with Mr. Monk as I always do on most Saturday mornings. I then walked to the 6th grade classroom to inform the Catechist that my oldest would not be there that day. We got to talking about his son.

“…He has a Ph.D. in [something akin to Rocket Science]…”

“Oh my god.” I was genuinely happy for him as I sensed the pride in his voice.

“… and he was the valedictorian in this school, and also at his high school…”

“Oh my god.” I liked how he was able to talk about his son’s accomplishments without appearing to be bragging.

“… He still tutors kids for SATs and all those exams. He’s very good… He’s at [Top Notch University] now but he comes home frequently so if you ever need help…”

“Oh my god. He teaches at [Top Notch University] too?!”

After the 3rd “Oh my god” I finally caught myself: Breaking the third (?) Commandment right here inside a Catholic school in front of a Catechist. Three times.

“Eh.” I pressed my hands together palm-to-palm like in a Buddhist prayer (just something I do unconsciously when I am feeling grateful or apologetic), “I am sorry for ‘using the Lord’s name in vain’…”

While chastising myself silently for using the “quotation marks” in a way that could be easily misinterpreted as being sarcastic, I hightailed out of there before I could say “Sweet Baby Jesus!”

New Year’s Resolutions? Bah Humbug!

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I don’t understand why people complain about the frenzy over Christmas yet fail to be annoyed by the hype around New year’s Day. Ok, yeah, I understand why. But I am taking some “poetic license” here…

It is probably just me: No will power. No desire to improve myself. Disillusioned by year after year of failed plan to exercise and diet three days into the new year. Cynical of the belief about New Year = New Beginning. It was just another same old clock ticking. Arbitrary!

I woke up on January 1, 2010 to yell at the kids for yelling at each other on New Year’s Day.

“IS THIS HOW YOU WANT TO SPEND THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW YEAR?”

I know. My 2010 has already started with a big irony. I can see that this is going to be a great year.

Perhaps it was a wrong move for me to step on the scale at all this morning… Everything just went downhill after that…

I have learned, rather than set myself up to fail, to set individual, realistic goals for each day: Today I vow to do the dishes, wash the bedsheets, finish unpacking, put away the stuff on the floor and vacuum the carpet. Not sure about making the bed with the laundered sheets. That can probably wait until January 2nd.

Years ago when Mr. Monk was still a toddler and I was a happy content definitely NOT-restless SAHM, I learned a few things from some online cleaning guru lady that still apply to this day. It makes the times when I switch my role to that of a housewife “a life full of purpose”:

1. When you wake up, get dressed, and put on a pair of sneakers even if you are not going anywhere. Sneakers help transform all the household chores into “exercise-like” items. You will feel yourself more energetic, and more purposeful. They also keep your feet from getting tired: you know you have a lot to do around the house!

2. Wear an apron with pockets when you pick up the house: you can stash the knick knacks along the way in the pockets and put them back where they belong on route.

3. Put on some music and move to the beat. My favorite is ABBA’s album, starting with Dancing Queen.*

4. My own tip: Have a drink. Add more rum.

Have a wonderful New Year’s Day, Soren Lorensen!

* Our friends FORMER friends put both Dancing and YMCA on the DO NOT PLAY list at their wedding. And those two songs only. I knew then that this friendship would not last… Turns out she belongs to a fundamentalist church and does not believe in dinosaurs. ’nuff said. (The real kicker is? He is a biologist. After so many years, I still wonder how that has worked out for them?)

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas: Jackal & Hyde Style

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This post was written on December 20, 2009, the Sunday before Christmas…

I am a gullible cynic. Or rather a cynical _______ (Fill in the blank for “a gullible person”). If it is possible to have such a conflicted personality. Or I may just be plain crazy.

Despite the making fun of the over-exposure of the so-called holiday “shop till you drop because the economy needs YOU!” season, the rampant commercialization of Xmas (not being Christian, I don’t really lament the secularization of Christmas but I do sympathize), the frenzy and stress we arguably inflict upon ourselves, I do look forward to the holiday season.

It is a time for family to gather around, for friends to get together. And for each one of us to marvel at how much the children have grown, even just through the sending of the holiday cards, or the much-lampooned holiday letters. For snow: always nice to admire from inside a heated house even though we curse at it when we shovel. For hot cocoas. For fire in the gas fireplace. For remembering how blessed one is. For thinking of the others, even if only once a year. Better than never, really. For teaching your children to think of the others, hoping the once-a-year lesson will stick with them as they grow up. Better than not even trying, really. For vacation.

I go through the holiday season playing Jackal and Hyde. Flip-n-flopping. Thanks to the “Stolen Day” and my will to procrastinate till the last minute, I am enjoying an atypical day of leisure and peace, and I am feeling especially schizophrenic. One minute I am all cynical and wondering how hilarious it would be, albeit absolutely not advised, to give my mother-in-law one of these ornaments…

Come on. You know you want one of these...

Or how “wink wink ain’t I hip and cool” it would be to hang this on our Christmas tree, at the risk of DCFS pounding on my front door (since I assume they have such a law against passing down cynicism against Xmas to children under the age of 18)…

For truth seekers only

The next minute I am merrily humming, going through Bing Crosby’s Christmas song repertoire inside my head. Driving through the burbs, appreciating the snow-covered trees and rooftops during the day, admiring the twinkling lights by night and, as much as I am tempted to make fun of the enthusiasm, the extravagant Christmas displays some families put up. The radio in my car is turned to the Christmas music station (though back to NPR on Saturday mornings). I sing along to almost every song, and I feel… *gasp* HAPPY. *ashamed* HOLIDAY-y. Except of course when they play “Christmas Shoes“. I cry so hard every time this song comes on that I am unable to catch my breath. Sappy? Sure. Do I feel manipulated and stupid? Of course. But is it the saddest, most depressing song ever and your heart is made of stone if you don’t cry when you hear it for the first time? YES!

The next minute, not satisfied with the old Internet meme of “creepy/scary Santas and crying kids” photos, I am spamming the Interweb with the new meme called “Santa Gone Wild”:

Annual Santa Speedo Run in Boston

Santacon in UK, complete with a pub crawl!

And the next minute I am wistfully looking outside at my boys frolicking in the snow while Sinatra crooning “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” in the background…

What reminded me of the true spirit of what has come to be known worldwide as “Christmas”, yes, the secular holiday that is widely celebrated in say, China, Taiwan, Japan and even India, the non-Christian countries, ironically, is when Mr. Monk, my youngest, observed out loud,

“Why did they call the radio station ‘Holiday Music Station’ when everything they play is about Christmas? How come they don’t play music for other holidays?… Shouldn’t they just call it Christmas Music?”

Mr. Monk, who still steadfastly believes in Santa, unknowingly expressed, IMO, what a true Christian should reflect upon– the existence of and the respect due to the others– as Christmas fever sweeps the nation, nay, the world. Faster than you know. Whether you like it or not.

Stolen Day

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I feel that we have got an extra day out of this insane holiday season…

The original plan was for me to be away for 3 days this past week on a business trip. I would come back late on Friday night and start cleaning, doing laundry, packing, addressing holiday cards, and finishing up holiday shopping ALL on Saturday, and then we would fly out to my in-law’s this morning.

Thank goodness for the snow storm in the DC area. Reportedly the highest amount of snowfall that DC has seen in at least seven years:  at Dulles airport snow accumulation reached 16 inches on Saturday, and 13.3 inches was reported at Reagan. Instead of agonizing over the prospect of waiting in the airport for indefinite time today, we had decided to change our flight to Monday morning. As soon as we made that decision, I felt physically the lessening of the winding inside my head and my body. A collective sigh of relief felt in every corner of the house.

I worked through my check list at a leisurely pace yesterday:

Laundry detergent and gift cards at Costco. Check.

Gift cards & holiday cards for Catechists and gym coaches. Check. (And I assume it is safe to wish the Catechists a Merry Christmas without the possibility of offending them?)

Hold the Mail request at the Post Office. Check.

Newspaper hold. Check.

Neighborhood watch request at the police station. Check.

Kids’ haircut. Check.

Lip wax. Ooops. I forgot. I guess I will just have hairy lips with face powder dangling off the end of my upper lip throughout the holiday.

Laundry and the dreaded folding part. Started and ongoing. (“Predecessor task” in MS Project lingo)

The chaos of packing. Started and ongoing. (“Successor task” in MS Project lingo)

Addressing holiday cards, figuring out whether the cryptic emails from my friend with no mentioning of her husband means she is now divorced, deciding whether to say anything or what to say on the cards to distant cousins who are now divorced, coming up with proper words for our Jewish friends now that we have missed the entire 8-day window of Chanukah to show that we did not forget about Chanukah and we are not sending them the holiday cards now out of our callous Christian (+ 1 pagan) hearts (Thank goodness we can still wish them a “Happy New Year!”), stuffing, licking, stamping. Check. (With NO paper cuts to fingers or tongues. Success!)

In the evening we behaved as if it were any other Saturday evening: my husband went to the movie with my 11 year-old (AVATAR, in 3D); I took Mr. Monk, my 7-year-old, to the mall because he wanted Auntie Anne’s pretzels.

What? Was I crazy to hit the mall on the Saturday before Christmas? Yeah, I thought so as soon as I turned into the mall drive and saw all the cars, moving, squeezing, waiting, and parked.

Here’s a tip for you out there from a Mall Veteran. One word. SEARS. Go to Sears and I guarantee there is a spot for you. Probably not too close if it is the last weekend before C-day. BUT still closer than what you could find at the other parts of the mall. Trust me.

So here is the GOLDEN parking space Mr. Monk spotted. Good job, my lad! I was so excited I wanted to call everybody I know.

I never want to leave this spot again!

Seriously, this was no small feat. I did not want to leave that spot when we were done at the mall. I wanted to stay there, to stake my claim, to “Put a flag on it.”

In addition to getting the best parking space I have ever gotten on a crazy day like this, my stolen day ended up on a high note also because a light bulb went up after I’d had two drinks at the stupid Rain Forest Cafe (aka the worst tourist trap because it is located inside a goddamn MALL! Why is there a tourist trap inside a mall?), ok, a fuzzy light bulb nonetheless, and a thought bubble formed: