Happy Voodoo Day!

many, many years ago, john and i created a holiday. we named it "voodoo day," but please don't ask me why, because i haven't the foggiest. neither of us is big on christmas, and all the festivities surrounding it, and all the duties to friends and families during the time... they wear us out. they wear everyone out, really. you spend so much time prepping and planning and decorating and cooking and catering to everyone else that all you really want to do a few days after christmas is curl up in a ball and sleep the day away. that is the principle behind voodoo day. it's a day - smack dab in the middle of christmas and new year's - that is not about other people. it's about you. to properly celebrate voodoo day, you don't buy gifts for others; you buy something nice for you. you do something indulgent for yourself. go get a massage, find a fabulous pair of shoes, get a mani-pedi, listen to your favorite cd even though everyone else hates it. whatever. doesn't matter what you do, as long as you take a moment to enjoy something for yourself, not for anyone else. so happy voodoo day, all!! may you enjoy your self-indulgent moment, and get back a little bit of energy that the holidays have stolen.

On The First Day of Christmas, My Best Friend Gave To Me... A Trip to th'Emergency Rooooom

the day started with me taking john to the ER. a friend of his came over last night, dropped a glass coaster and broke it, and john managed to step on a sliver and cut himself fairly deeply. after bleeding everywhere - which i had to clean up, mind you, as the gay boys were all drunk and passing out - he went to bed instead of letting me take him to the hospital. in the morning, it still hurt and was still oozing blood a little, so i insisted on taking him in. the hospital in question - holy cross - was totally worth the trip. not only was it beautiful, with reflecting ponds and lovely mosaics, but very entertaining as well. outside was a HUGE nativity scene. since it was christmas day, we decided to join in with the fun.

after winding our way through the maze to the ER (john simply parked at the main entrance, not the ER entrance), we checked in and then waited to be called. our journey was helped by the adorable signs that let us know where to go.

after a short wait, john's name was called. since there was nothing else for me to do but sit around and be bored, i went with. the triage nurse went through all the standard questions and whatnot, but she was very fun - smartass-y and joking with us. she asked about medical history and as john explained, she jotted it down on his chart.

"now, do you smoke, drink, or do drugs?"

"um, i smoke and drink. i haven't done drugs in a long time, but i used to. wait, i cut my foot - is that relevant?"

"well, i like to ask. it gets very boring up here, and i like to make conversation. it's all strictly for the entertainment of the triage nurse, really."

we both burst out laughing. we were shown to room and hung out for a little while. i spent my time keeping john from accidentally destroying expensive medical equipment until we figured out how to work the tv and put on the travel channel. in the end, john didn't get stitches because he waited too long to come in - he should've come in the night before like i told him - but had an x-ray to make sure all the glass was out and a tetanus shot. it really didn't take long for an ER visit, and was quite entertaining, all in all.

then we had to find our way back to the car. after getting lost twice (once in the "ambulance only" area, where we definitely shouldn't have been), we asked the hot security guard how to get back to the main entrance. turns out, you can't get to the main entrance from the emergency wing without a security card which, luckily, the guard had. we retraced our steps and somehow ended up lost again. but we found a very pretty area outside the cafeteria, with bistro tables and a water feature. and absolutely NO smoking. this time, a nurse saw us looking around confusedly, took pity on us, and pointed us in the right direction. we (finally) made our way out to the car and back to john's to relax for a bit before heading out to dinner. so that was a fun-filled christmas afternoon. never a dull moment...

At Least It's Only Once a Year...

christmas sucks for me. always has, and i don't totally understand it. it always makes me sad and depressed. i figured that this year would be different since i would be with the man i planned on spending my life with. yeah, well... since that's not happening, it's turning into the worst holiday season ever. i'm ridiculously depressed, obviously, and there's just no getting out of it. and as much as i love my family - and i really do - there's just no way i'm going to be able to function around all the holiday crap and family stuff. i had a minor breakdown on thanksgiving, and that family didn't even belong to me. (sorry about that, c... but thanks for dealing with me!) so, i will be spending christmas with the bff. i'm flying down to ft. lauderdale on christmas eve (i know, i know, but it was $50-100 cheaper than any other day) and we will be enjoying christmas on miami beach. christmas dinner will be at benihana's. it will be our very non-christmas-y christmas. he can't be with his family as he has to work the day before and after, and christmas really isn't his thing either... plus, we've both had a seriously crappy year, so hopefully this will be good for both of us. we'll see. i totally expect to become a big blubbery mess at some point, but hopefully i'll manage to wait till i'm not in public. we'll see. all i know is that he's my bff for a reason, so hopefully we'll make each other feel better...

Thoughts, Questions, and Comments After Weekend Shopping

1. if you are in the nations largest outlet mall, and it's the weekend before christmas, you do NOT get to pull out your cellphone and attempt to text someone while slowing your pace to that of a snail on quaaludes. either put the phone away, move to the side out of the flow of traffic, or learn to multitask for pete's sake.

2. i'm pretty sure i lost several i.q. points while browsing in forever 21, just from the music. if you are using the phrase, "your dress looks like a silhouette," mayhap you don't actually know what the word "silhouette" means. look it up. or keep some people around you with an intelligence level above 60 so that they can tell you when you sound like an idiot. oh, and for the record, i find it hard to believe that you care overmuch about her "impressive intellect" when the chorus tells us that you want to park the car and go "porn-style". really? several i.q. points frittered away...

3. and while we're on the topic of music, is it really necessary to have a disco/funk version of "sleigh ride" with someone trying his very best (and failing) to be james brown?

4. also (same theme) what possesses you to make a dance/hip-hop version of "santa claus is coming to town" complete with a rap at the bridge that rhymes "snow" with "fo' sho?" eeks.

5. question: how did salt n peppa get away with "push it" in the late 80's? i mean, it's pretty impressive, really. how did that not get censored off the airways? a current katy perry song has an entire line or two (awkwardly) edited out so that it doesn't mention "pms" or "bitch" on pop radio, but back then they somehow got away with lines like "the music's pumpin' hard like i wish you was," and "get up on dick"... i know they said the line was, "get up on this," but we all know better. those ladies had some pretty big cojones.

6. if you decide to take your ten year old son shopping, please consider that there may be things that are not appropriate for him. for example, taking him into a store and making him carry your chosen selection of frilly underwear, lace bras, and leopard print cami/thong sets so that your hands are free to browse - probably not the most responsible thing to do. i'm just saying.

7. okay, back to christmas music. can someone explain to me how "favorite things" became a "christmas classic"? it's a song that, in the sound of music, is used to calm the children because their country is being invaded by nazis and the world is going to shit around them. HOW does this relate to christmas exactly?

8. ikea has excellent mashed potatoes. i had to stop by and get some stuffed ferrets for the mayzie-dog for christmas (her current ferret, though she still loves it, has no stuffing and only one paw left), and decided to also get dinner. it was a good decision on my part.

9. i tried the lingonberry juice with my taters and baguette. it was quite tasty, actually. it vaguely reminded me of something - something from my childhood, but it was just vague enough to remain out of reach. even so, it was a delicious surprise.

10. i am having issues with shoes for new years. c is coming up and we're going to the official "downtown countdown," which i'm very excited for (largely because cowboy mouth is involved), and we are actively trying to put together our outfits for the night. clearly, i want to rock some kick-ass heels. the problem is this: ever since i became broken, i can't wear heels for a long period of time. and it's not like my feet just get a little sore; that i could (can, have, and would) deal with. what happens, though, is that the pain becomes literally crippling. it very quickly gets to the point where it hurts to even take a few steps, then eventually my ankles will join in on the fun and start weakening, and then my feet will start cramping in earnest. this is not cute or fun. and i fully intend on jumping up and down and dancing like a fool the entire time cowboy mouth is on the stage. "so just wear flats," i hear you saying. and yes, flats will solve the problem, but here's the thing: there are NO FABULOUS FLATS. sure, there are cute ones, but cute doesn't cut it for a formal, "creative black-tie" dress code. at least not for me. cute is not kick-ass, fabulous, or even fantastic - and i can't ring in the new year in less-than-fantastic shoes... that's like going against everything i stand for. hence my conundrum. sigh.

11. silver and gold metallic pleather hot shorts... are these really necessary to sell?

12. while shopping in dress barn (and finding some very cute things for myself and others), i stumbled across two of the most hideous christmas sweaters EVER. we're talking beading and sequins and crocheted appliques and everything. i mean, they were just AWFUL. it was awesome. they were 60% off, and i really debated buying one of them. it's not often you get a chance to own something that horrendous for less than $15. i may actually go back and get one before i go home on wednesday...

Reindeer Games, Indeed

i was taking pictures for a special event at the give kids the world village today; 8 busloads of employees from the gap outlet stores came in for 4 hours to do as much work as possible. i was to go from site to site and snap pictures of the volunteers as they painted, landscaped, cleaned, and had fun - to put up on both the gap and gktw websites. i love helping out there whenever i can and today was awesome - with one little exception.

i forgot that on thursdays, it's "christmas" in the village.

now, i was not staying for the festivities, and its not like i mind 900 yards of sparkly garland and fairy lights. given the chance, i can't say my own home wouldn't be festooned with said things. the problem was the music. i'm not a big christmas person, and i never really have been. i can't explain why exactly except to say that for some unknown reason, the holiday makes me sad and kind of depressed-feeling. it's not winter that does it, just christmas itself. i have no idea why this is. must be a past-life thing; who knows? anyway, i can stand the decorations and whatnot, but what bothers me the most is christmas music. more than anything else, it's the music that sets off the sadness. (again, i have no idea why.) as i've grown older, i've found it's easier to be agitated than to be sad, and so my depression due to christmas music has turned to annoyance. true story: the only "holiday" albums i find acceptable to listen to without wanting to hurl myself out a tenth story window are barenaked for the holidays by bnl, a christmas together by john denver and the muppets, and the nightmare before christmas soundtrack (which is not really a christmas album at all). and while i know "christmas is coming" by miss piggy, scooter, and gonzo is somewhere on the playlist, most of the hour-long bgm loop is filled with non-acceptable music. at some point, whilst photographing the gap volunteers, "rudolph the red-nosed reindeer" came on and i actually listened to the words and the story. i mean, of course i know all the words from elementary school plays and family sing-a-longs and all that (complete with random shouted parts in the middle), but i actively listened today and came to this conclusion:

"rudolph the red-nosed reindeer" is a stupid and wildly inaccurate song.

why? because it's a song about this reindeer who's weird and awkward and all the other reindeer make fun of him because of it. they call him stupid names that make no sense (really? pinnochio? his nose glows not grows... typical of bullies) and don't let him play monopoly. (they couldn't make him the banker? no one really wants that job anyway...) then suddenly one christmas eve it's foggy. the other reindeer complain of bad visibility and refuse to fly. "woo-hoo!" they're probably thinking, "we're off the hook this year! we don't have to lug the fat man and two gazillion pounds of toys around the world!" and then here comes rudolph, showing that, however improbably, his little red nose can light up enough sky for the rest of the 'deer to safely maneuver their way to every rooftop the world over.

"but all the other reindeer loved him!" you may cry. "they all shouted with glee!" well, sure they did; they were in front of their boss (i.e. the one that feeds and shelters them and orders grooms to keep them pampered all year long so they'll be ready for the one night out of the year that they actually have to do something) and the boss is ecstatic over the light-up nose. that means that they too must be ecstatic. but do you really think that's going to last? that deep down they're not thinking, "that little twerp! he's a big fat loser and now he'll go down in history? people are going to cheer and sing trite seasonal ditties about him? that's not fair!"? look, as a high school teacher, i am an astute observer of the social food chain and the consequences of stretching beyond your label. now, if rudolph had been smart, he'd have included some of the alpha reindeer in on the scheme. make it look like (to santa, at least) that it wasn't all him - that only with the help of the bigger, bad ass 'deer could he help. but he didn't; he made the classic outcast mistake of jumping in and saving the day - and making it obvious that it was something the others couldn't do even though they constantly professed that they were stronger and better and faster and less shiny.

look, if you love this song (and/or the classic stop-animation movie inspired by it), i'm not trying to take that enjoyment away from you. if it's a great story to you, and you can teach your children and nieces and nephews and what-have-you about the importance of one person, and how even if you don't seem to fit in, you can make a difference - then good on ya. those are lessons every child should learn, and learn well. i'm just saying that after the deliveries were over and santa popped back into oblivion for another 364 days, rudolph probably had an even rougher time of it because the other reindeer felt they had to remind him of his place. i just think they could have been a little more realistic with this scenario, that's all.

or maybe i just think too much about trivial things and over-analyze. a lot...

The Laws of the Universe

i swear, in some cosmic rule book somewhere, there is a footnote at the bottom of a clause in the back of an index (in italics) stating that karen rose gibson, born september 20, 1976 in indianapolis, indiana, currently residing in orlando, florida (clearly, the cosmic rule book updates every few weeks to keep on top of things) may not successfully plan any events in conjunction with her birthday. i'm not sure why this is, it just... is. my mother tried arguing with me, but i proved myself right at every turn. sweet 16? spent the 4 or 5 days leading up to it in and out of the hospital with my first ever blinding and uncommonly severe migraine. didn't know if i would even be able to have my party, and half my friends didn't show because they didn't think it was still on. turning 21? that was dress/tech for arkansas bear; i was in the theatre from 8 in the morning to almost 10 at night. when we went out for drinks afterward, everyone drank faster than i did, causing me to slow down (and then stop) because my d.d.'s were all hammered and we had to get home somehow. 23? in overnight rehearsals plus working my normal shifts. for two weeks straight. 27? everybody that mattered had to work late (like till 2 in the morning) all weekend - except demasi, who took me out to dinner, but since we both worked early the next morning, we were in bed by like 10. 30? i had been planning (for close to a year and a half) to go to vegas for that birthday, but in the end, no one could work out the money or the days off, and i certainly wasn't going to someplace like vegas for the first time by myself. last year? oooh, that's a two-parter, and possibly the worst yet: a) john, dale, and i had planned to go see the cure in early september, but the band cancelled the fall tour due to illness and injuries, and didn't resume until may of this year, and 2) i woke up in the wee hours of the 20th to being violently ill, the very beginning of a sickness seems to be permanent.

now, i'm not writing this as a "poor me" blog, and i swear i'm not trying to make anyone feel guilty - this just happens every single year, no matter how much i try to thwart it. and this year, especially, i felt as though - since i had somehow survived the shittiest year ever - i deserved a weekend of birthday fun, with lots of people and activities. i really should have known better. but instead of focusing on what didn't happen, i'm going to list the good things about this weekend. (the first paragraph was just to fill you in so you know why i'm listing. background information, or exposition, if you will.)

1. rob and i discovered an amazing artist at tu tu tango's. you can look at her artwork here.

2. tu tu's makes creme brulee the way it was meant to be made - it was amazing.

3. i found not only birthday shoes, but a birthday hat as well.

4. the planet smoothie near work has a cafe; i tried it on saturday, and the chicken caesar wrap - made with chunks of fresh grilled chicken and real pita bread (like the kind gyros come in) was awesome.

5. i got a birthday massage from my massage therapist, and as such, it was a gift.

6. said massage therapist is selling some of my jewelry (more on this later).

7. as mom and i left after our massages, there was an amazingly beautiful double rainbow to greet us. it was so vivid, you could even see both bands of violet, which you can rarely see clearly.

8. me, my parents, rob's parents, and the robs had a cook-out and enjoyed a lovely evening of food and conversation and playing dominoes and deserts. there were lots of yummy desserts. (hmmm... there's a lot of food on this list...)

9. rob's dad make one of his famous cheese balls for the occasion. (ok, apparently much of what's good in my world consists of tasty treats...)

so, good stuff there... as i've learned in the past year, it's all about perspective, and i need to find the most positive one and stick with it. it's the best way to survive.

Show Choirs, Disco Boots, and Missing My Boys (St. Patty's Day 2007)

i am a dork. this is not a new development, but in case someone reading this is not yet privvy to this fact, i thought i'd point it out before i explain how i spent a chunk of saturday. so consider this paragraph "background info"; those of you who know me well can safely skip this part and go down to the second paragraph. it's ok - you won't miss anything. for the rest of you, yes, i am a dork, but my dorkdom is primarily focused in the theatre/musical/band/dance areas. i am currently working with the choir at school to choreograph a couple numbers for the spring concert, and the idea of maybe starting a show choir at school has been bandied about a bit. so it is with these thoughts in mind that amy (the choir diva) and i found ourselves at epcot, sitting in the america gardens theatre, watching the finals of the Showstoppers Show Choir Invitational Competition. yes, we are both big fat dorks, but we also wanted to get an idea of what we needed to think about before approaching our principal with this idea. (and we wanted see people who were even bigger dorks that we were - mission accomplished.)

mostly what we took away from the day was what NOT to do, and the certainty that we would NEVER make our kids do some of this stuff. we did come up with some ideas of what TO do, as well, but that mostly came from us, and not from what we witnessed on stage. first up were the top three girls' choirs, followed later in the afternoon by the top five soloists and the top five mixed choirs. what appalled me the most was the need to make these kids dance through every second of every song. the choreography had no place in most of the songs, and made no sense most of the time. also, these kids were drilled within inches of their lives, so that each of their movements were exact, finite, and perfect. which sounds good in theory, exept people don't really move like that, so they just looked like a team of well-programed robots spinning on stage. also, as far as i'm concerned the "cheerleader nod" and the "oh, i'm so surprised and cute at the same time" look have no place in theatre, dance, or especially show choir.

and i don't even know how to describe the abject horror amy and i experienced as we watched 40 white kids from the mid-west perform hip hop moves, which had clearly been taught to them by someone who was not only white, but had never met a minority or watched a dance or hip hop video in their life. it would be easier to describe if i could just attach a video of me re-enacting this heinous dance move, but alas, i do not have the technology to do so. so in order to convey the severity of the crime committed, i will write you a how-to. please just follow the simple instructions below, and you, too, may be jumped in any racially mixed area.

step one: stand up and move slightly away from your computer (far away enough not to cause damage, but close enough so that you can still read. if you are concerned about your lack of dance skills, you may want to print these instructions out and then go to large empty space void of people.) you may also want to inform any others in the room with you what it is you are doing so they do not think you have lost your mind or want to beat you up.

step two: place your feet shoulder width apart in a relaxed stance.

step three: form your hands into blades. press all your fingers and the thumb of each hand close together, and hold your wrists rigid so that your hand jut stiffly from your arms.

step four: bend your elbows at a forty-five degree angle, keeping your elbows tucked fairly close to your body throughout the following steps.

step five: lift your bent arms up and pulse them twice, so that your arms go up, down, up, down. you will do this twice - once to the left and once to the right.

step six: as you raise your arms to the left to begins your pumps (don't forget to keep those fingers locked together and those hands rigid), you will raise your left leg, bending at the knee. you will make two knee pumps that echo the movements of your arms.

step seven: repeat on the right side.

step eight: do this 4-count sequence twice, so that you have two pumps to the left, two to the right, two more to the left, and two more to the right.

step nine: as you execute the left pumps, say "what, what" as your hands and knee hit the "up" position.

step ten: throughout this eight-count routine, keep your chin up, eyes straight ahead, and smile so fully that your teeth and cheeks begin to ache.

step eleven: take yourself very, very seriously.

congratulations! you may now join an elite show choir from nebraska!

but again, at least we learned what NOT to do. and we also learned that if any of our multi-cultural kids ever came to one of these competions, we would definitely have to provide them with notebooks to write down all their snide comments so that the parents and fans around them wouldn't hear.

did i mention we suffered through one show choir doing "welcome to the jungle" wearing zebra-print dresses for the girls and red velour jackets with zebra collars for the boys? we did.

during the evening we decided to head out to pat o'briens at city walk for the st. patty's day festivities. i stopped at home between events and discovered that i had NO idea what i had done with my driver's lisence. it really should be in my purse, but it's not, so i had to be a big geek and use my passport in order get into pat o's. after waiting in a short line to get into the piano bar (which was definitely a fire hazard last night), we stood around awkwardly until we saw these three incredibly drunk blonde girls vacate the side of a table and then took their spots. (seriously? pace yourself: it's now 8 p.m.) and aside from the scary drunk amazon and her insecure, slutty friend pissing off the waitress and convincing her that we had odered all the drinks on the $250 bar tab and not their friends who had skipped out, we had fun. (especially after we talked to the manager and the waitress had the girls thrown out.)

this, however, was (i'm pretty sure) the first time i'd been back in the piano bar at this pat o's since everyone left me. I MISS MY BOYS. there, i said it. it made me kind of sad. and as much as i hate some of the songs they sing there ("friends in low places", anyone?), it was even worse without my drunken fools surrounding me and singing loudly and off-key in my ear. there was no bon to roll my eyes with. i didn't even have monica with me (the one person who still lives here), so when the piano player broke into "who dat?" in the middle of "when the saints go marching in", i was the pretty much the only person in the entire bar who knew what the hell was going on and was singing along. sigh. i had fun with amy and deb, and we were certainly entertained by the people around us, but it just wasn't the same. (when the hell are you people moving back here, huh?)

when the drunken tomfoolery of others ceased being entertaining, i headed home. john called me from ft. lauderdale in a slight panic, informing me that he had been drug to a "gay country bar". i didn't even know that was legal. apparently he was surrounded by gay men line dancing to (and this is the reason he called me) "wild, wild west". you remember "wild, wild west" from the eighties, right? "heading for the nineties, living in the wild, wild west"? i was not aware that it was a country song. or that it had a line dance, although if there's anything i learned while working on a cruise ship, it's that any song can have a line dance. (you probably didn't know that "hot, hot, hot" and "who let the dogs out?" have line dances, did you? they do. and unfortunately, i know them.) according to john, the only redeeming value to the place was that instead of the standard-issue gay-club disco ball, this place had four cowboy boots - heels backed together to face the four directions- covered in disco ball mirrors. i told him that the next time i come visit him i want to make sure we don't go there. he assured me that he would never again set foot in the place - he was too frightened by it. "besides," he added, "these boys are wearing cheap cowboy boots and gucci and perry ellis shirts. it just doesn't make sense in here."

so that was my st. patrick's day. it's a lengthy blog, i know, but hopefully the entertainment value of you dancing hip hop like a mid-westerner was enough to off-set my going on and on...