Very mild, and in way, good for me, as this is my future competition for jobs, but:
To the young lady in my choral lit class,
This is a 300 level music class. How on Earth could you possibly not know how to pronounce Pachelbel, or know what either a descant or consonance is? I don’t whether it says more about you or the school that you could be a junior music ed major and maintain that level of ignorance.
Would you? Please? I am busting a gut over here… 
Hey, I get that problem sometimes too. I hate it.
If Snidely the movie or concert reviewer didn’t like one of your faves, it is not the end of the world. It is an opinion. There is no need to fly into a red-faced, spittle-flecked rage over the fact that another person does not share your likes and dislikes.
This goes especially, but not uniquely, for the several dim bulbs who wrote outraged letters to our local freebie arts-and-soft-porn-ads newspaper, denouncing the critic who dared to diss the recent Genesis concert. Now Genesis is one of my favorite all-time groups, but I don’t think that one snarky review in a community newspaper is going to drive these guys into the poorhouse, or invalidate years of enjoyment of Genesis’ music on my part.
Also, if a multitude of people post gripes on a consumer website about a business that delivered (or failed to deliver) lousy product or service, it’s moronic for you to suggest that since you’re happy with your order, that all the other customers who posted are either being unfair or are deluded. (Of course, if you’re the business owner posting a fake review you’re not moronic, you’re a swine). 
I told my kids, “Yeah, Jesus is like, so snooty when you wear the same clothes all the time. He’s like, ‘Ew! Didn’t you totally just wear that?’ And I’m like, ‘What, do ya think I’m made of money?’” etc.
Any day now, the landlady is going to come around with her annual gift of a poinsettia for each and every tenant in her apartment building. That means I’ll get one too. It’s a nice thought but I don’t like poinsettias. I don’t think they’re particularly attractive and for a not-so-green-thumb like me, they’re a pain to keep alive. Plus, they’re full of a toxic sap that is only all too willing to spill out of a damaged leaf or stem when given half a chance. And they damage easily. If you have pets or kids, watch out!
I suspect I’m not the only one who doesn’t like poinsettias but find one or more foisted upon them this time of year. I’m betting that if the poinsettia industry only grew enough poinsettias for those who actually liked them, three quarters of them would never be cultivated in the first place. As it is, most probably wind up in landfills or compost heaps come March or April, after having endured a long, slow death.
I’d like to be able to tell my landlady I want to pass on the poinsettia but we already have a somewhat rocky relationship due to a noisy upstairs neighbor and this would be viewed as a snub. I don’t want to snub her over this; I just don’t want a poinsettia.
I just keep thinking about who I can pawn it off to. Gee, a plant that I haven’t received yet is already adding to my holiday stress. Maybe the landlady will rethink the poinsettia thing this year and give something like Martinelli’s sparkling cider instead. I don’t care much for that either but I know, at least, that won’t go to waste. Of course, a nice chunk of good fruitcake definitely wouldn’t go to waste either, even I do like it and the rest of my family doesn’t. Oh well, I can hope.
Just in case, anyone out there want a poinsettia?
My sixteen year old stepdaughter moved in with us this week. She’s already snuck out of the house at least one night. When she got caught, there was a big uproar and she cried a lot and told us she thought she was pregnant. Several times already she hasn’t been where she said she was going to be (“Oh, I had to stay after school and then I called a friend to give me a ride home so I wouldn’t bother you!”) Her dad may give her a stern talking-to, but I think he’s afraid to punish her. She’s not an evil kid, but she’s used to having her own way and she’s hell-bent on making some big mistakes right now.
I’m not a ranter, but this really hasn’t been a happy week. It’s drama every day and I don’t think the denouement’s going to be pretty. Wish us all luck!
A very mini rant but one that bugs me on a regular basis:
People: if your banking business will take more than a minute or two, DO NOT USE THE DRIVE-THRU ON A SATURDAY MORNING.
Seriously, someday I will get permission to vaporize you and I will do it. Oh, yes, I will.
Do you have a job, Tikki? Can you take the dreaded poinsettia to work and leave it at the front desk or something? I think this is really a case of consider the thought, not the exact gift - most landlords I’ve had gave me a whole lot of nothing for Christmas (and I returned the favour).
Dung Beetle, that really sucks. Thinking of all the step-children threads we’ve had here, there really doesn’t seem to be an easy solution to these kinds of problems. Can you keep her supplied with condoms so she might be able to avoid some permanent mistakes in her 16 year old rebellious state?
I was going to suggest leaving some about where they could be stolen.
Well, there’s the fact that he’s dirty from head to toe–how does one get dirty from head to toe in December? This leads me to believe that he is from the more southern area of this great nation (gee, what a surprise). The “twangy” slangy aspects of the lyrics bear this out: the “countin pennies” type of speech.
Then there is the thought that the boy might be mentally or emotionally disturbed. Seriously, did they let Dibs out to shop? He concentrates on shoes, ie FEET, the opposite end of the body from the face. The face (in particular the eyes) is said to be the window to the soul. If this lil guy is so into Mr Jesus Man–why not a nice pair of specs for Mummy, hmmm? How do shoes make you “pretty”? Do we enter heaven feet first? Is this why those Xmas girls in that Monty Python film are wearing 5 inch heels as they sing about Christmas in Heaven? Should I trade in my clogs for Jimmie Choo’s?
How does he know the shoes will make her smile? Perhaps her “smile” is but the rictus of death heralding victory this night? Would she even have the strength with which to LOOK at her new shoes? Would she care? I can tell you that if I were the mother dying in this scenario and one of my sons brought home a pair of shoes instead of more morphine or Viggo Mortensen for my last pleasure–they’d hear about it. And I’d haunt them to boot.
And just what did the singer of the song learn from this emotionally unstable, neglected latch key kid with a foot fetish and leanings towards necrophilia? That that’s what Christmas is all about! Did Sweeny Todd (aka Sondheim) write this song?
And here I thought it was about good will towards men and presents and stuff.
I feel better, but still pissed about the Scotch pine. I so want to tell him–something snarky about PineSol, but can’t think of anything offhand.
I busted my ass getting my swap stuff done so we could do the tree last weekend. We did the outside decorations. It took all day because I get it, you like things to be just so. And the trip to Lowe’s to get zip ties, then while we were out a few other stops had to be made.
But you promised our kids that this weekend the tree would go up.
You lazed around all day yesterday. Hey, you worked Friday night, you’re tired. There is Sunday after all.
What in the blue fuck are you doing right now?
Crushing cans.
Come on! The kids are getting all excited, and if you let them down one more time, I’ll be closer to punching you than I ever have.
Shithead.
Not to mention that I’ve got 18 totes of Christmas stuff in my living room for the last two weeks! We need to get this place back in order! It’s driving me crazy!!
I’m living in Christmas box hell, too. The Husband didn’t put it up last night-no idea why. The morning is ticking by, and he insists on being the one to put the lights on so… Let’s go, already.
Instead, I awoke to find our oven on self-clean mode. The same oven I just self-cleaned not 6 months ago. The oven that did not need to be cleaned, since I make sure I don’t spill shit in it. Now the smell is stinking up the house and I had planned to fill the house with Christmas cookie smell. Nothing like burning carbon fragments to get ya in the mood for some tree trimmin’.
Is it wrong to decorate a tree with homicidal thoughts in your head?
Nothing wrong with that. By the time we get to that point, it might be wise for him to keep sharp things away from me.
He’s finally re-arranging things, and we’re nearly at setting up stage. FINALLY!
Meanwhile, my kitchen woes are the pumpkin fudge recipe. It’s a bastard to make anyhow, and I forgot if I’m supposed to use pure pumpkin, or filling. Fuck! And I can’t find the blasted thing on the net. Double fuck!
I guess I’ll have to einie meenie minie mo, and pray I made the best choice.
Now, that’s the spirit of Christmas!
(I’m glad to see others having husband woes - makes me feel a little better.)
The air in my tires is low and I had to go to five!!! gas stations before I found one with a working air hose. AAAAAgggghhhhh!!!
Spiked egg-nog (or hot cocoa) in the tummy works better.
That only quiets the voice, and the next day that voice is that much crabbier and fatter. We made it today–I left the house entirely for 2 hours and decided to come back smiling (or at least not doing my Scrooge impression). It worked. No wonder we’re all exhausted this time of year–good tidings and bon homie is exhausting.
I found this recipe, hope it helps.
Pumpkin Fudge
There’s little chance of a child being harmed by contact with poinsettias, even if the leaves are eaten.
““Rarely, someone will have an allergic reaction from being exposed to poinsettia sap, but there has never been a documented case of poinsettia poisoning,” Crouse said. “Study after study has proven that no part of the plant is toxic. People at Ecke’s farm will eat leaves for customers to prove the point – although they say those leaves taste really bad. Still, a 1995 poll commissioned by the Society of American Florists found 66 percent of those surveyed believe poinsettias are toxic. Amazing.””
More info [here.](http://armstrong.extension.psu.edu/Horticulture/newsletters/2003 December GF.pdf)
Also, I wouldn’t stress out about poinsettias dying. They’re intended as a temporary holiday decoration (even for people who take the trouble to keep them going till the following Xmas and get them to rebloom, they’re never as attractive). Enjoy it, toss it out or give it away. There are worse things going into landfills.