And, we're off!

Oh, I'm not sure if I should be scared or not...so far we're off to a rip-roaring start of weirdness around here.

*****

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth - but if it's a gift card purchased at CVS, you're on your own

The weekend of Christmas we visited the Out Laws and they surprised me with a few Nordstrom gift cards along with a pewter bowl. EPOD had already given me a $50 gift card to Nordstrom so I was pretty stoked that I was going to be able to fulfill some of my retail fantasies for virtually free.

After being cooped up the last few days (other than a few booze fests) I decided that today I was going to brave the rain and take Monkey Man to The Big Overpriced Mall so that I could use the gift cards and hopefully not get arrested while rubbing myself all over the Coach bags. The real mission, however, was to get Monkey Man some new long-sleeved shirts...somehow we only bought him like 4 shirts this fall and after seeing what Joey dressed him in this week I knew times were desperate. Tank tops are not appropriate in January unless your name is Kid Rock or maybe Usher and your posse is carrying a sensible jacket for you to wear if you catch a chill.

So I let Monkey Man pick out a few things since they were "free" and when we got up to the register we discovered that the gift cards didn't work. Well, EPOD's worked but that's because he actually bought it at that store. I immediately called MIL and discovered that she had not purchased them at an actual Nordstrom, but at CVS.

Ahem. Now excuse me while I slam my head against the lovely granite counter in Customer Service.

So after 30 minutes on the phone with corporate, the lovely girl behind the counter said that there really wasn't anything they could do - apparently there had been a batch sent to CVS stores that were never activated so therefore no money could be put on them. So now the only option is to hope that MIL saved her receipt (bwahahaha! fat chance) and I will mail her the cards and she can duke it out with the Podunk CVS on her own.

Lesson learned. Be careful of those gift cards you can buy almost anywhere now, because there is a small chance that they may not work. And here I am, $86 poorer but with three very expensive shirts for a 5-year old. Hurumph.

*****

Step away from the Crown Royal, ma'am

Last night we got an invite to my friend Cathy's house - she and I have been friends for what seems like forever but being a fellow New Jerseyite we click like no one's business. Anyhow, she's on Husband #2 Patrick (who I adore) and they happened to both have their kids this weekend so she invited the three of us plus April and her clan to come over and throw down.

Patrick is a badass cook. Like he made this homemade blue cheese dip that has to be prepared a week in advance of serving it and it was so good I was moaning like a bad porn film. And don't even get me started on his homemade hot wings. Hot damn, some good eatin' goin' on last night.

Well, I hadn't had Crown Royal in about 7 years. Now I remember why. I had a few Crown and gingers, and then Patrick busted out some Pet Egg Nog and it was downhill from there. By the time we got home I was singing and cracking jokes and poor Joey was just shaking his head at me.

Then I had the most bizarre dream last night. Angry Rocker High School Boyfriend was in the hospital and my mother (who hated him) called me and said that we had to go take care of him. He had cancer, but ironically enough my mom and I were there taking care of fixing him meals, doing laundry, etc., and he kept escaping from the hospital to go play gigs. The odd part was that even though I've seen recent pictures of him, in the dream he was high school age and he wrapped his arms around me in this big bear hug that was so real it woke me up. I got up, used the bathroom, went back to sleep, and the dream picked right back up where it had left off. (Insert Twilight Zone theme music here).

Weird. I don't think I'll be drinking any Crown for a while. At least a week or two.

*****

Beyonce totally needs to hire me as a songwriter

So unless you've been living under a rock lately, you've been bombarded with "Irreplaceable" wherever you go.

Just don't give me any Crown Royal, because then I decide to tweak the words a little. Girlfriend is way too nice.

"To the left, to the left, all your shit's in a box on fire in the yard,
To the left, to the left..."

"To the left, to the left, I let the dog take a shit in your box,
To the left, to the left..."

Hot Lips, I am holding you at least partially responsible for this since I've had this song stuck in my head since you posted it. Argh.

*****

Well, off to feed the tribe. So far my cornbread looks like hell but I think at least the brunswick stew is edible. Not much you can do to fuck that up, thankfully.