Friday, December 19, 2014

Holiday Jam 6


First and foremost it was a most entertaining and excellent musical extravaganza.


I caught up with Jeremy during intermission. It was time to present him with a fabulous, hand-made, one-of-a-kind gift.


And here we have it in all its freakish splendor! The year old dinner bun of infamy!


Weird gifts are the best, that's what I always say. Jeremy seems to agree.


I'm still not certain as to whether this bauble is beautiful in its hideousness or hideous in a beautiful way. Let's just say that remarkable things can be accomplished with a dremel tool, a hot glue gun, various craft supplies, and a twisted imagination.

Of Beer and Men

Last night I was waiting in the beverage line during intermission. This venue is very much hit and miss as far as beer selection goes. Why limit myself to beer, you might ask. Well. When I'm driving I'm much more comfortable having a beer than a mixed drink when I have a fixed time in which to metabolize its alcohol content. Why not wine, you might further inquire. Well. I just can't enjoy wine out of a plastic cup. The plastic-y nature of the container spoils the bouquet for me, it overwhelms the taste of the wine. I do like a little wine buzz, mind you, but the pleasure of sipping the deliciousness is a big part of the experience for me. Lacking that, the buzz becomes pointless. When I got to the front of the line it turned out that the beer situation was a miss. All light beers with the lone exception being Budweiser. No thank you. And how does this correlate to men? It occurs to me that I make similar choices when faced with the current availability options in these particular areas. I am well acquainted with my preferences and dealbreakers. Which means that I would prefer to pass on an opportunity if it doesn't measure up. I'd rather be buzzless and alone than drunk and disappointed. If you aren't familiar with my standards where a man is concerned, you can read them here. As far as beers go, I adore Scottish ales or a nice seasonal brew on the darker side. I have yet to meet an Octoberfest style I didn't take to. Leinenkugal's various shandies appeal to me as does a standard bock style like the one Shiner makes. I just don't have the time or patience for what I already know I don't care for. Men. Beer. I like what I like yet remain open to new possibilities.     

Leave Meme Alone!

So this meme shows up on my Facebook feed. I wasn't familiar with the person who posted it and wondered why it was there. It seems that a mutual friend had liked the post so that was why I had the privilege of reading the following:

Say this slow...GOD I Love YOU and I Need YOU NOW!!! If You Meant It Repost & A Miracle Will Happen Tonight. Ignore and All Will Go Wrong.

It reminded me of a chain letter. Yes, children, before the internets existed and snail mail was the primary form of communication, there was this phenomenon known as the chain letter. There was usually a promise of wonderful, miraculous things coming your way in the body of the letter. Then toward the bottom you were warned that failure to send copies of the letter to a dozen friends would result in personal catastrophe. If you sent the letters, good fortune and riches were yours. Unmitigated bullshit, if you ask me. I typically responded by tossing any that I received in the trash. So. The comment field beckoned. I typed that I seriously disliked the mostly innocuous sentiment followed by a less than veiled threat. She responded in a somewhat disjointed fashion. I replied:

I think it's difficult to separate out your intended positive message from the negative end. The full meaning still comes across.

I felt like we had a civil discussion. I made my point, she made hers. Then an hour or so ago I had a private message from a man whose name was a little familiar. We have four mutual friends. He proceeded to rip me a new one over the way I had abused his friend! Shaming me for mistreating her, who, by the way, has a very sick child and hasn't slept much. Apparently the post was an entreaty for God's intervention to help her sick child. He then went on to say that he gets back here sometimes and then we can have an argument about theology. It was a threatening and angry message. I have some points to make. First, I am a mother and my heart goes out to anyone who has a critically ill child. Second, I believe in the power of collective prayer but I think it's odd, perhaps even counterproductive to ask for positive vibes by tossing out a negative one. Third, if you have a problem with me, air it in a civil public post rather than a threatening private message. And finally, the guy is three states away but I was pretty creeped out. He has been blocked.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Throw Back!


Toddler me aged one and a half years. With big brother Scott. This was taken at Grandma and Grandpa Ruud's house in Williston. The photo doesn't reveal what was probably a lutefisk laden atmosphere. Uff da. I love that you can see my mom's and Aunt Mamie's high school graduation pictures under the tree. I seem to be practicing walking, a relatively recently acquired skill. Scott seems to be engrossed in whatever is on television, the tv is just out of frame to the right. I remember being fascinated with the bubbler lights on the tree. I have no idea what is gripped in my chubby little right hand but I appear rather purposeful about taking it somewhere. Suddenly I'm craving Grandma's date filled cookies. And lefse. 
   
After conferring with cousin Cory, this is likely the grandparents' house in Alamo. They moved to Williston probably in 1960, a year or two after this picture was taken.

Shades of Calvin & Hobbes



Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Tomorrow!

Holiday Jam. Brookings edition. Tomorrow at 7pm at the Swiftel Center. Be there! All the cool people will be. Yes, that includes you.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Early Present


Heather was cleaning out some stuff and came across this lone wine glass. She knows how much I love cobalt glass so she rescued it for me! This is now my wine goblet of choice for this holiday season. Thanks, Heather!