Thursday, December 31, 2009

I'll Have a Blue New Years.

Normally I ramble, on and on and on some more. My speciality is boredom and nonsense. Not today, not happening. Today I dawn me now my bun and glasses. Pardon me while I button my cardigan and sharpen my pencil. Please take your seats class, for today I school you in all things Blue.

For any skeptics my teaching credentials were earned from Yahoo. Grit your teeth, squish your toes and prepare for the shudder that is chalk going on a chalk board, as I write today's assignment on the board. "Blue Moon." Uh, huh, you've heard of him. I know, Elvis and Ella and Dean are partying on your vocal cords begging you to let loose and belt out your best rendition of "Blue Moon" ever. Well, history has made a fool out of us all. Cause a Blue Moon ain't about a counseling session with a broken heart, nope and pity the fool who stops reading right now and misses this education.

Straight from the text book of my alma mater I give to thee the definition of a "Blue Moon"
"Once in a blue moon there is one on New Year's Eve. Revelers ringing in 2010 will be treated to a so-called blue moon. According to popular definition, a blue moon is the second full moon in a month. But don't expect it to be blue — the name has nothing to do with the color of our closest celestial neighbor."
Add that your list of smarts. A blue moon is an extra full moon and according to my institute of higher education a full moon on New Year's Eve only occurs every 19 years. For extra credit you can read all about it, right here

I fully intend to view this Blue Moon. "Handsome guys won't you come out tonight, come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon." It's fate I tell you, the stars are aligned for the dawning of this new decade. The decade I'm claiming for myself. This will be the decade my blue moon turns to gold. I'm so elated I'm going to get glitter and crayons and make a list of the fun I intend to have as my perfect 2010 comes to call. I'm going to lasso me a George Bailey and love him till the day I die.

Your homework is to party till your hats fall off and to know I love you. Thanks for putting up with my rambling, non-essentials! Happy, Happy New Year! Class Dismissed!

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

You Gotta Know When to Hold Em, Know When to Fold Em

This is Christmas in my house, Welcome

 And tradition tells me its gotta go.

All of it, back to their boxes and bags.

And I say a big bah humbug, grinch on you to whoever set this precedent. For they take away our glitter and sparkle, and bright shiny things and cookies and yummies and make us trade it for treadmills, and gym memberships and brussel sprouts. They turn off our Christmas music and turn up the make your resolutions, snikering all the way. Cause they know we don't have an ace in the hole when it comes to making good on resolutions. Good bye peace on earth and good will to all men, hello cold, dark, barren winter.

So long Christmas cards, hello tax forms. Geez, if you're going to take down Christmas at least give me a suntan, sandals and an ice cream cone. Christmas to summer, now that's a deal I'd cut. I think Ole Kenny's gonna make a gambler out of me yet, Cause I, "Know when to walk away and know when to run." Islands in the stream that is what we are, no winter in-between, how can this be wrong, sail away with me.... Christmas till July anyone? All in favor ante up.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

You Smell Like Beef and Cheese?

Well, lest curiosity kill the cat, the Old Jolly did not jingle his magic under my tree.
Not a handsome man was stirring not even a ken doll. Santa did, however buy me perfume and a new plush robe. Guess, I'll just spritz away in hopes that my handsome man soon will be here.

While I appreciate the new smell pretty, I'm a little concerned about the ole guy's integrity cause I'm pretty sure he used my debit card.

Friday, December 25, 2009

Dear Santa,

I know our relationship is a touch and go sorta ordeal, but I thought I'd make nice and offer you this letter in the form of a picture, for we know a picture is worth a thousand words.

Yes, we're surrounded by a cloud of innocence. We embody the Christmas spirit, Halo's fly over our heads, we say our prayers, mind our manners, and take cookies to senior citizens. So I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.......

Handsome men.......times three, one for Melissa, one for Beth and one for me.

You can leave them under the tree and then I'll go you one better than a yourself to a bowl of ice cream. So that's that Santa, you leave the George Clooney, Hugh Jackman, Jude Law, Clive Owen, Baby Jesus Loving, I walk the line handsome doppelganger's under my tree and I'll never doubt you again. I'll blow you kisses all the way to the North Pole and then I'll call my friends and sing Hallelujah, it's Raining Men........

Merry Christmas, Santa Baby and hurry down the chimney tonight.

Yours Truly,
I've Been Nice

Thursday, December 24, 2009

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Haul out the holly, Martha
Put up the tree, Paula
Fill up the stocking, Betty
Deck the halls, Sandra Lee
Climb Down the Chimney, Emeril
Put up the brightest string of lights, Rachael
Slice up the fruit cake, Mr. Flay & Julia.......

For we need another cookie
(Need a little milk)
(Need a little coffee)
Need a little laughter
Need a little Eating
Singing through the tummy
And we need a little happy
"Happy ever after"
Yes, We Need another Cookie Now

God bless us everyone and pass the cookies! If the cooking greats were to sing over my homemade cookies it would most likely sound more akin to, “O’er the cookies we go, laughing all the way……….” Nonetheless the bells on my bob tails and thighs are going to jingle a little louder so long as these homemade cookies are around. I will leave you with three little words that make my unbelief in O Chris Cringle worthwhile……..

More For Me

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

My List Runneth Over.....

Today, I bring you good tidings of great boredom that shall be for all readers. For we all know a spoonful of favorites in numerical, listy format make the posts go down in the most delightful way. Now swallow big and taste and see that Christmas anticipation is good. In honor of partridges in pear trees, and eight maids a milking (Am I the only soul who just doesn’t get that song?) I give to thee my 12…12 things I look forward to at the dawn of Christmas Bright.

1. Fudge
My lips spell love F-U-D-G-E and my sister speaks my language and she maketh me the fudge and Then sings my soul, my savior sister to thee I sing, It is well with my taste buds.

2. Shoeboxes
I have a dream, that one day I'll go on a Samaritan's Purse mission trip and pass out the shoeboxes they organize and ship to needy countries. Until then I fill two shoe boxes every year for little girls, cause I like glittery hair bows more than match box cars. It's my way of remembering what Christmas is all about. Did you hear that, Santa? Mark that one up for the nice list. I joketh.

3. Christmas Tree
I’ve already pledged my love for my tree. So I will not belabor her, but I do love her dearly, and I spend many a night couched up watching movies and sighing at O how she shimmers and shines.

4. Down Town Lights
"The lights are much brighter there, you can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go Downtown" I'm convinced Petula was under the influence of Christmas lights when she belted out Downtown. My downtown is about 3 miles from my house and I eagerly wait for the lights to light up those light posts. They just plain make me happy.

5. Christmas Cards
“You’ve got mail” those three little words do for me what they did for Kathleen, aka Meg, when I go to the Post Office and actually get mail. Occasionally I go to the Post Office and leave empty handed and I feel so unloved, so embarrassed. But leaving with a handful of Christmas cards, makes my want to yodel and dance a happy jig in the street.

6. Snowmen Mugs
I have a disease, it’s called matchy- matchy and I am afflicted January through November. But come December I’m magically cured and I take out my mismatched snowmen mugs.
Which must meet the criteria of being shaped into the form of a snowman to make it into my family of mugs. This year they are crying out for personification and begging me for names. I drown their pleas in hot cocoa.

7. Christmas Day Feeling
It came without ribbons, it came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.....and every who down in whoville and the Grinch himself know it's a once a year kind of feeling.

8. Christmas Breakfast
I have eaten the exact same thing for Christmas breakfast every year of my life. Should I ever become a Mrs. Clause, I shall have to have a prenup agreement that promises me I'll always eat cinnamon rolls and sausage and cheese balls on Christmas morning, forever and ever, Amen.

9. Stockings
Too bad we're not Catholic, it would make explaining my mother's passel of younguns easier. That and then I could nominate her for Sainthood. If my Mama met Martha Stewart she'd probably say, "You said you're Martha who?" My mother is so unassuming but she's got skills, oodles and oodles of skills. She made all of her babies a homemade stocking with a cross stitched Christmas image sewn on the front. Mine is a red quilted material with an angel on the front. And every Christmas those stockings are filled with the most wonderful gifts and goodies.

10. Mint M&Ms
Move over peanut butter m&m’s for the mint m&m’s are my favorite.......we're "mint" for each other and we have a nice little Christmas love affair, then I go back home to the peanut butter.

11. Tree Tops & Lights Galore
I'm cheating and combining two items for I feel I need to put some holy in my list with number twelve, but I love seeing trees perched on top of cars or stowed in the bed of a pickup. Knowing they’re celebration bound. When I drive by homes ablaze with Christmas lights I smile inside and say an internal, "Thank you." Fine, I say it out loud and blow kisses too.

12. Christmas Carols
I feel like I’m tottering on the brink of sacrilege. So, I’d be a naughty liar if I said keeping Christ at the forefront of Christmas was something I excelled at, Easter is easier for me. One thing that does help me is singing Christmas carols' on Sunday mornings. How lost I’d be if Emmanuel hadn’t come for a rotten wretch like me.

Sheesh, you’re probably sleeping and drooling by now, but we’ve managed to clean our plate of twelve! How about you tell me what you look forward to at Christmas and I'll ask the maids to give us some milk and the turtle doves to fetch us some cookies from the pipers piping. And then we can giggle at the leaping lords.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Say Cheez?

If you ever have a mad salty craving that makes you get up off your taste buds for a wal-mart run to relieve the mouth watering, drooling, hankering and you find yourself on the cheez-it aisle, i don't care if the NEW pepperjack cheez-its flip flop like flap jacks into your hands, put um back.

Go for the tabasco or the white cheddar if the plain ole cheez-its' ain't singing your number. For the love of all things salty don't tango with the pepperjack......they will step on your toes. Then you and your deflated taste buds will sit on your couch like a popped ballon and one by one you will eat your mediocre cheez-its and visions of the lays stacks will dance in your head.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

London Bridge Is Falling Down.....

Last year, I was London side during a fair portion of the yuletide season. Over the river and through the tube station to London I went. Now, Now I was on a mission’s trip. And yes, London needs a big ole helping of Jesus. Don't we all. Let me just say they ain't got nothing on our blowup snowmen or our bling, bling, houses arrayed with lights. I honestly expected things to be a bit more festive throughout the city, then again I'm accustomed to all things Griswold and twinkle lighted. Despite their lack of glitter and shine, I discovered the Christmas cheer in these three Londonesque Christmas items.........

Item One: Happy Christmas
Granted I'm a stand by your Merry Christmas kind of girl, Happy Christmas offered with a British accent will make you swoon. I spoke it often with the best mock British accent I could muster.

Item Two: Mince Pies

They refer to their cookies as biscuits, when I came home and told my biscuits sopping in syrup about it........they almost fell off their forks roaring with laughter. They all but throne these things called mince pies. Pre-London I thought mince pies were only something the blind of the taste buds ate. And while I'll say they rank low on the totem pole of desserts, eating them under the influence of London makes um taste better. I was going to walk me ole taste buds down memory lane and buy um some mince pies from world market this year, but when I saw they cost $7, I skedaddled the buds right back to the good ole U.S.A.

Item Three: Little Donkey
It's a traditional British carol and while I nearly exploded with laughter when I heard it sung live by little British babies.... (Yes, I'll be getting coal for Christmas) it's tune will find its way into your subconscious and play over and over until you're forced to find it on youtube that all may hear. I'm going to have to listen to this every year for the rest of my born days........

Happy Christmas, Kyoko, Happy Christmas, Julie........

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Dear Tiffani

There is much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth a going on in The Elizabeth Highsmith's soul and it has naught to do with the recall of all "I want for Christmas is Hugh Jackman." My inner quagmire is due to the silent night of my knight and shining commenter, my bears and belles, where oh,
where have though gone? Where have you been Tiffy, Girl, Tiffy Girl? Where have you been charming, Tiffy. I will now switch gears and serenade you to the tune of, "Bring back, bring back, Oh! Bring back my Tiffani to me, to me! Bring back, bring back, Oh! bring back my Tiffani to me! My Tiffani lies over the ocean of the internet and I need her back.

Oh great commenter, you can write and tell me to be quiet, or write and tell me to whiten my teeth, or write and tell me to write about something useful instead of gobbledygook....I hope your absence has been full of cookie dough and cheap tv and twinkle lights and pretty packages with your name on them and hot dates with your hubby. But certainly not hot dates with Hugh, for then we'd have to get a bloggy divorce and it would get messy and there would be custody battles and they'd all pick you because you're the bright and shining star. Ok I will save us all and tell you in summary my posts miss you. Merry Christmas, Tiffani. Did I mention you're my favorite?


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Smack Down the "Runway"

Occasionally people tell me I look like a model. Don’t take my word for it go see for yourself. (I'll pay you tomorrow, Amber) I know, ain’t flattery grand! Excuse me while I climb aboard this trains bound for the vanity land. I thought this year’s apple picking rendezvous was the perfect time to perfect my mad modeling skills.

Don’t hate. I know, “You think I’m gorgeous, you think I’m sexy, you want to hug me, you want to squeeze me into America’s next top model.” I tell you folks, it’s talent. With these moves the rotting carrots in the fridge and the empty ice cream cartons won’t be an issue.

Hahhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa Bah Humbug!
They’d take away my french fries and give me carrot sticks and they’d pour out my coffee and force me to whiten my teeth. They’d make me go to the gym to work out instead of for the cute boys and free tv. Those skinny, hungry broads would probably have a cat fight with me and poke my eye out with a curling iron. And then they’d blow up my hair like a ponies tail put in an electric socket and they’d dress me like Dracula and tell me to roll over like an exclamation point. Then they’d put me in a line and they’d judge me and tell me I was fat and that I was an ugly Dracula. And I’d cry and run off the show straight for the Top Chef and stuff my starved belly back to happy then I’d go down to Rodeo Drive and win a date with Tad Hamilton.  I'd be forced to blog about it for the rest of my life and you'd be so sick of'd click your heels and go home.

So now that you know how well I take a compliment and how good I look in vainty, which photo should i use for my portfolio?

Friday, December 11, 2009

Joy To The Fishes In The Deep Blue Sea.......

Did you know that “Come, On Ring Those Bells” is in the red letter Baptist Hymnal? Well, it is, right beside “Frosty the Snow Man” and “All I want for Christmas is you."

In my work as "church girl" part of my duties entail herding the songs for Sunday. We use “Easy Worship” and no, I’ve never threatened to call the company and spout, “It ain’t easy unless I can snap my, fingers clap my hands and call it done.” I see the verses go sailing in every week, every week. (Best read to the tune of “I saw three ships come sailing in”) Can I just tell ya, that there are various versions of many dearly loved hymns a float in the sea of hymnology. Apparently depending on your brandy, I mean your brand of doctrine, you adjust the hymns accordingly. I never knew such discrepancies existed. “Easy Worship’s” database ain’t Baptist; I don’t frankly know what she is. Sometimes there are entire extra verses, different orders of verses, different words. It’s appalling. I'm not standing by the Baptist believers on this one. I personally think it’s wrong……you wouldn’t go painting Mona Lisa braces or chiseling David some under drawers. Now I’m all conflicted when I’m singing, thinking, are the Baptists right or are the other folks?

Last Christmas, I got my feet dirty and did a little of my own hymn adulterating.
O Come All Ye Faithful is now... drum roll, please…………

Oh Come All Ye Handsome
Beautiful and
Oh Come ye, oh come ye to Elizabeth…….
Come and adore her,
Come on bended knee
Oh, come take her to dinner
Come take her to dinner,
The Elizabeth……………………

Scratch here for the live rendition. I kid, you have to sniff too.
Think I can buy my way into the hymnal?

Thursday, December 10, 2009

And The Two Shall Be One

On a cold night in Georgia, Swiss Miss and Vanilla Latte Coffee Creamer were united in holy matrimony. They were introduced by their friends the marshmallows.

It was a joyous celebration replete with dancing, twirling spoons and happy snowmen.

From this day forward until digestion do them part........I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Swiss Miss-Vanilla Latte Hot Cocoa. (They're modern so they joined names)

And They lived happily ever after..............

P.S. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Leaving Arkansas.....

Today, on my way home, I took a detour to the "presh house" which is currently housing Miz Arkansas. And I found Tiff, Tiff and Amb in the kitchen. They were wearing heels and pearls and they were making Martha Stewart's sugar cookies, from scratch mind you. And they told me all about the fun they'd been having drinking tea and knitting afghans for the homeless and going to the opera. Ok, seriously they were too cute! Like life long friends just a hanging out and a bonding. I felt privileged that they let me in their little world. Seeing as I ain't a real blogger and all. I didn't take a picture, cause I ain't the real McCoy. But Amber did because she's the Big B in the Blog. Those girls are the ice cream in my sundae, the cookie for my milk and the extra fries in the bag. They're that kind of goodness. They make up 90 % of my reader and commenter population and for that I am truly grateful. 

So Miz Arkansas gave me a piece of the pie, also known as an Arkansas Christmas ornament and wouldn't ya know it, I left it. Amber, if you're reading I'm very sorry about leaving Arkansas, I promise I'll go get him. If you promise to leave Arkansas for a little Georgia fling now and again. Tiff-Tiff you're the best! Thanks for sharing your bloggy friends with little ole me. So now that I've officially participated in a MIRL (meeting in real life) I think I'll go and photograph my dinner, that is if I can get a clear shot through the microwave. 

Friday, December 4, 2009

My Tragic Little Christmas Story....

Calf deep in snow, I shook my fist in the general direction of Chicago and screamed, "D-Word, I  hate you, Chicago." I'll explain.

Twas the night before Christmas Eve, my two friends and I ,against our better judgement, decided to make the most of our eleven hour layover and go partake of authentic Chicago pizza. We  hail a cab to take us out into the white Christmas bliss raging snow storm and deliver us at Ginos. It aint' delivery, it's Ginos. Mmm K, so said cab drops three hungry, bone weary, jet lagged girls off to feed their little missionary bellies (we'd been on a ten day mission trip to London) Cab drives away into the blizzard winter wonderland. Eagerly we proceed to the door, which is locked. Polite knocking ensues, Mr. Pizzeria comes to the door and informs me they're closing early (an hour and friggin half early) due to the weather. I attempt to use my Georgia born and Georgia bred charms to get us some food, then I beg, then I pled, to no avail. He left us cold and hungry to fend for ourselves in the SNOW. If I've ever wanted to throw a public hissy fit it was then. I wanted to hurl snow balls and Christmas curses, but I had a sick friend who was half way down the street. We had to traipse through feet of snow to even find the side walk. It was at the point I realized I'd spend the rest of the night with soaked pants legs, that I let "Chicago" have the "fist fight." I'm afraid Chicago won. So after our 1/2 mile or more jaunt through the snow we arrive at the next restaurant, also closed. Nancy's saw the fire in my eyes and at least let us in for the bano and obligingly gave this pickled peach a number for the closest cab company.

We got one of Chicago's finest cab drivers, who belabored the beastliness of the weather and how we'd be lucky to get a flight home . "Uh ya think, I'm freezing, and hungry and just took a whirlwind cab ride to find out it's true. It's all true, Santa ain't real and you derned yankees are as bad as they say!"

Back at the airport, now close to 12am,  I consoled myself with a McDonald's happy meal and an ice cream cone. And went to fervently praying that all runways would lead to the mason dixie line, and they did. Home for Christmas never felt so good. Moral of the story, if you're going to Chicago be sure to wear a flower in your hair cause you'll probably have to eat it for dinner.

Thus concludes Elizabeth's Got the Grinch-ies 2009.

The End

Thursday, December 3, 2009

You Don't Smell Like Santa.....

I’ve got a confession, as a youngun I was every Santa hugging, loving, lap sitting, and pushing Mother’s nightmare. Rewind to kindergarten where I was busted for being the grim ripper, doomsayer to a little red headed tot’s belief in all things ho, ho. His panicked Mama had a May Day conversation with my teacher, who had a conversation with my Mother, who I suppose had a conversation with me. However, I wasn’t reprimanded. Through the years I did learn to adapt a little more pc approach to all things Claus. Naughty or nice my relationship to the Jolly Ole Nick was what it was. I don’t honestly remember being sat down and told, “Santa ain’t real, Baby Girl.” But come on, I used my little five year old deductive reasoning skills, to figure out Santa wasn’t checking the catalogues for my circling wish list frenzy. And there were twenty five Santas none of which shared any consistent resemblance to Father Christmas. It’s also always been baffling to me that some Santa’s were gift wrappers and some Santa’s just spread the loot out under the tree? Santa just didn't deliver for me.

However, this year I'm ready to make nice. I think I'm going to repent of my scroogish ways and become a believer. If I get questioning looks in the line at the mall, I'm just going to smile and say, "Look, I owe him an apology and he owes me a barbie dream house from 1980 something. That and I'd like a hot date and party dress this Christmas."

Note: This is the first of a two part series of Elizabeth's Got The Grinch-ies....After this we'll move on to Elizabeth's Got the Joy to the World deep down in her heart and we'll talk of sugar plum fairies, and mistletoe and holly, oh by gosh by golly we will! 

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The Sound of Christmas

Oh Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree How Lovely Are Your Branches.....
Ask me not why this is my theme song as of late.....For I Do Not Know
In fact all I know is that first line, So I made up my own lyrics

"O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
How Lovely Are Your Glittered Branches
I Hope You know,
I Love You So
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
How Lovely Are Your Glittered Branches!"

And yes, I do sing this to my tree. My long standing ,most favorite, Christmas song is, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" Which is my wish for you and yours, A Merry Little Christmas filled with bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, and brown paper packages tied up with strings.....wait that sounds familiar like the sound of music.Anyhoo, may your Christmas season be merry and bright and filled with all the Christmas things that bring you delight...

And to all a good night.