Thursday, December 25, 2008

Merry all that stuff


As you read this, I should be hurtling through the air in a thin metal tube at some 30 some thousand feet on my way to the (relative) warmth of Las Vegas and Palm Springs. After the frigid sub zero arctic temperatures we've been having, 45F seems positively balmy.

So unless a laptop with wi-fi connection to everywhere falls on my head from the sky I should only be back on the other side of the new year. Come to think of it, if a laptop falls onto my head from the air, it'll probably maim me in some horrible way that would preclude my ever blogging again. Que sera sera.

Until then (either the maiming laptop or the new year), I want to wish you all a great holiday devoid of weird ass family issues to stink it up.

May your holidays be balmy (either in temperature or in happiness) and your new year grand. I'll raise a glass to all of you.


Monday, December 22, 2008

A Christmas Meme

And since I'm all about not having to think right now, it's perfect. I poached it from A little off kilter, one of my favourite blogs, you're welcome to it if you like.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?

Gift bags are so much easier, but it really depends on what I have on hand.

2. Real tree or artificial?

Artificial. I only do a tree at the cottage, not in town, and since we're not there mostly during the week - except a few days at Christmas - there's no one around to water a real one.

3. When do you put up the tree?

Usually beginning or mid-December. When I was a little kid my parents would put it up on the 24th after I went to bed. I'd be woken for midnight mass and there would be the tree. It was magic. Even when I got old enough to help decorate it, the tree went up on the 24th, not before. It meant Christmas had arrived.

4. When do you take the tree down?

Sometime in January when I get up the energy to do it.

5. Do you like eggnog?

Nasty stuff it is.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?

Hmmmm... I loved my etch-a-sketch. Other than that, I don't remember any particular presents off hand, but I do remember being thrilled each Christmas.

7. Hardest person to buy for?

When you're 47, a parent. What the hell do you buy someone in their 80s. They have it all.

8. Easiest person to buy for?


9. Do you have a nativity scene?

Nope, well, not a traditional one. I put some of my extensive collection of Mr. Potato Heads under the tree. Mr. Potato Head, Mrs. Potato Head and Junior Potato Head, with a Potato Head storm trooper to guard them. Yes, I'm obsessed with Mr. Potato Head. To the point I bought the special however many-eth anniversary edition. I never got a Potato Head at Christmas. But I digress. So yeah, Mr. Potato Head under the tree. Kids who come over love it.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?

Neither. I'm a grinch that way. Seriously, I can't be bothered.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?

A three pack of grannie panties from.... a boyfriend's mom. What the fuck??? Just don't give me anything if you hate me, the message will get across. Passive aggressive bitch.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie?

Got none. Though I remember seeing one about a department store Santa Claus who kept insisting he was really Santa and the lady who worked at the store didn't believe him (she was of the bah, humbug school of thought like me) and he actually was Santa. Or something like that.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?

Despite the best of intentions, way too late. Always way too late.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?

Nope. Not that I remember anyway.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Hmmm... I love Moroccan clementines at this time of year. And mom used to make this coconut raisin candy... damn, just thinking about it makes my mouth water. I can practically taste it. And any of mom's cooking, ragout, tourtière, etc.

16. Lights on the tree?

Isn't that the point of trees?

17. Favorite Christmas song?

Hate them all. And I'm surprised that retail workers don't go insane and kill all the customers since they have to listen to that crap day in day out for months. I feel for them, I really do. There is one I like, but I don't know it's name and I can't sing it for you and really, even if I could you wouldn't want that, trust me. Fingernails on a blackboard come to mind when I sing.

Most loathed song is Paul McCartney's Christmas ditty - Wonderful Christmastime. Possibly the most stupid lyrics ever written: The word is out / About the town / To lift a glass / And don't look down. WTF???

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?

This year travel. We're running away to Vegas and Palm Springs. We're gonna wander around the desert simply having a wonderful Christmastime lalalalalalala ALONE!

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's?

Um... Rudolph? Dopey, Grumply, Doc, Happy, Bashful, Sneezy and Sleepy? Huh? What? Wrong story?

20. Angel on the tree top or a star?

Last year, a star. Previously the treetop has sported a snowman, Homer Simpson, a stuffed cat, and assorted other things. And yes, a Mr. Potato Head. But he fell off. Poor dear.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?

Depends on how awake I am at the time. Whatever works for us.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?

Office parties, endless loops of Christmas songs, fake cheer, consumerism, wasted money on stupid things no one will ever use or even particularly want.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color?

Every year I allow myself one expensive ornament for the tree. I love our three mermaids (bought for Mr. Jazz actually) and the glass birds that I were always in the tree when I was growing up. Actually, if I had put up the tree this year I could tell you which exactly are my favourites, but I tend to forget them during the year and go, "oooohhhhhhhh, I have this?" every year. There is no theme or rhyme or reason to our tree. It's completely eclectic and crazy looking.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner?

Mom's "ragout de boulettes" (thoug mom's doesnt quite look like that. Who the hell knows what those pinkish things are...). You take chicken broth, make pork meatballs, boil them in the broth. Add flour that you previously browned in the oven to thicken, season with pepper, cinnamon and nutmeg and serve with potatoes (but not Mr. Potato Head) and sweet pickled beets. It sounds very bizarre written out like that, but it's delicious. Oh, and tourtière (a meat pie) Turkey is highly overrated I think.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year?

Nothing, I have everything I need. A job, a place to live (two actually), a full belly and clothes on my back.

Ok, if I must have some wish... um... Peace on earth and goodwill to all men? Like that's ever gonna happen. Bah... Humbug.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Christmas Cake

Y'all know I don't love to cook. At all. However, baking is something I really like. I can really get into the whole cake and cookie thing.

For this holiday, I decided to share a special recipe. My Tequila Christmas cake. You'll love it I'm sure.


1 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1 cup water
1 tsp. salt

1 cup brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
1 bottle tequila
2 cups dried fruit

Sample the tequila to check quality. Take a large bowl, check the tequila again to be sure it is of the highest quality.


Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 teaspoon of sugar. Beat again. At this point, it is best to make sure the tequila is sstill OK. Try another cup just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy.

Break 2 legs and add to the bowl and chuck iin the cup of dried fruit. Pick the fruit up off the floor.

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit getas stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the tequila to test for tonsisticity.

Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or something. Check the tequila. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the window.

Finish the tequila and wipe the counter with the cat.

Cherry Christmas!

Monday, December 15, 2008

Winter. Sort of.

I haven't been blogging much recently, mostly because after a day on the computer at work, the last thing I want to do is log in more computer time. I just can't seem to find the energy for this anymore.


I like long weekends. It's fun to play hooky at the cottage on a Monday with Mr. Jazz.

It's much less fun to arrive at the cottage on a Friday evening, get out of the car, look at those 40 steps up from the driveway and say, "Fuck, they're gone."


Buried under a waist high dump of snow. Mr. J started shoveling while I hauled myself up to the cottage to get the other shovel.

Did I mention the waist high snow? The snow that gets over the waistband of one's jeans and slithers down inside? Cryogenics for the nether region. I don't recommend it.

Over an hour to shovel those stairs. It's still fall and I'm already so over winter. (sigh)


At least we'll be leaving soon. Over the hols we're going to Vegas to see a Cirque du Soleil show, then driving down to Palm Springs to wander around the desert (among other things, Joshua Tree National Park) and drink margaritas. It's been way too long since I've seen the desert. Much much much too long.

Ironic isn't it that the place I love the most in the world, the deserts of the US southwest are diametrically opposed to the place I actually live. There's something really wrong about that.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Back with a bang?

No, rather with a whimper. Winter, she has arrived the bitch.

Montreal was expecting a dusting of snow yesterday. Instead, we got a good six inches, then some freezing rain, and now more snow.

The snow removal teams, the cops, the drivers, everyone was taken by surprise it seems. Go figure. After all, it's only December.

Denial is obviously not just a river in Egypt. Nor am I the only one who likes bathing in it.


Thursday, December 04, 2008

Life on the Bus

I've had nothing worthwhile to say over the past week or so. Rather than put up one of those long whiney "I have nothing to say" posts, I figured I should just shut the hell up.

Works for me.

Moving on...

This morning, because of unforeseen circumstances (a non-working spouse) I took the bus to work. The red demon stays home if there aren't two of us commuting.


It had been a while. I'm not a fan of public transport, though I use it most every evening. It gets me where I want to go, 60% of the time with more or less minimum fuss*.


Morning bus use is a special kind of hell.

Morning bus use when it's raining buckets is a very special kind of hell. At least in the evenings, you have getting home to look forward to.

Used to be, when I always took the bus in the morning. I could catch the 7:20 and have a 50-50 chance of being seated. Then it was the 7:10. Now, at 6:55** it's hell. Jam-f-ing packed. Toothpicks in a box packed. No bubble wrap to make things easier packed.

And then, just to top it off nicely, you have:

  • The fat nasty lady who never stops bitching because someone is sorta dripping on her. - It's raining lady, a rain of Noah's arc proportions. You're sitting down, we're standing over you, we drip. Get over it.
  • The guy who wields his backpack like a deadly weapon. - Dude! Take the fucking thing OFF! or at least hang it off the front of you where you can see the damage you wreak.
  • The other guy who hasn't washed in a month. Nice.
  • The kid with her iPod playing so loud you can hear it clearly 10 feet away. She'll be deaf by the time she's 20. Serves her right.
I have acquired new respect for people who face this twice daily and don't go around wielding machetes and AK-47s.

I have also developed an new and loving devotion to my little Red Demon. I love me my Matrix.

And so, a new day begins. (Crap, that sounds like a Celine Dion song, see what the bus does to me?)

* Lucky y'all, I'll spare you a list of the moronity that is the Montreal public transit system.

** You have to understand. I'm not a morning person. But when I have to take the bus, I'd actually rather be up at the crack of dawn than play the sardine game in the bus.