Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal

my christmas tree

I do love this Christmasy time of year.  And as always, it’s eventful in my sister’s house.  And as always, I get woken up by someone for sleeping late.  This time it was the niece who came to my room and went, “wake up ya lazy head.”  I did NOT teach her that, but apparently someone else did.  I asked for 5 more minutes then she tattled on me that I wouldn’t get out of bed, so I was threatened.  2 year olds.

When we left for the second part of the day, I had to ride with my dad.  Sweet baby Jesus.  For one, it’s a great thing I didn’t take a nap cause we would have ended up at the Dulles airport or in the heart of DC.  My dad knows how to get to a ton of places, but he does not pay attention to where he’s going.  At the toll, he put is in the cash one for the airport.  Then in lower Rockville, he thought he recognized where we were, but made a wrong turn and I had to get us back on the right track.  Not to mention he drives in the middle of the road and jerks the car when he realizes he’s going to hit another car.  It’s no wonder that I feel the urge to puke when someone says “you’re riding with Dad.”  So after praying so hard that I would survive this hour drive, we arrived at our destination.

On the way home, he drove in the middle of the road, stopped at a green light, almost ran a red light and I texted a friend saying pray for me, I might not make it.  Then, when we were 5 minutes from the house, he stopped the car in the middle of the road.  BACKED UP in the middle of the road, close to a hill where a car could come flying up and hit us.  I asked what on earth he was doing.  His reply?  “I want to look at that herd of deer.” dead serious.

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In New York, Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made

Lately I’ve been going to places because I feel like it.  For instance, I went to Toronto on a whim because I wanted to see the Hockey Hall of Fame.  My friend and I just recently went to New York City because we wanted to see it during Christmas time.  Aside from the massive population explosion because of everything Christmafied, I have a love affair with New York.  Me.  The kid who lives for Arkansas football games and is used to see a dead deer being skinned.

Yes.  I want to live in New York, even if just for a year.  Maybe I’m crazy, but I fell in love with being called an “ungrateful bitch” by the many homeless men with Tourettes.  I named the first NYC rat I saw Speedy Gonzales and was rooting for him to not get hit by the train.  The food was delicious and I willingly ate things I normally wouldn’t with people practically screaming 3 feet from me about their future plans for grad school to study astronomy (okay, so maybe I hated that kid, but whatever).  You can walk everywhere.  You can people watch out the wazoo.  You can be surrounded by a bajillion people and then turn down one street to utter quiet.  You can see real life versions of “Diary of a Mad Black Woman” taking on the city.

Yeah.  I think I need to try it out.  Plus, there are so many more coffee shops I haven’t tested to in my new found quest to taste “The World’s Best Coffee.”  Plus, it looks like this:

One hand in the air for the big city
Street lights, big dreams, all lookin’ pretty
No place in the world that could compare
Put your lighters in the air

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silence of the lambs. . .

totally not a scary movie.  well, at least the tv edited version isn’t scary.  maybe i’m desensitized to serial killers. i studied them for a semester and watched some court proceedings.  i was thoroughly creeped out and forced my friend to walk me back to my dorm that happened to be 25 feet away from his (yes, i put up a fight when he said he would just watch to make sure i entered the door from his door…no no.).  i watch dexter. i get fascinated by serial killer stories and what the heck went wrong in their heads.  so, silence of the lambs isn’t scary.

but monkey movies?  monkey movies are freaking TERRIFYING.  have you seen the preview to “rise of the planet of the apes?” holy crappppppp.  that’s fudging scary. monkeys creep me out. mighty joe young? creepy. planet of the apes (all of them)?  nope nope.

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Boondock Adventures

 not my tractor. photo from flickr.

To my MoCo-HoCo-DMV (DC-MD-VA Metro vicinity for those who think DMV means long lines to get a license renewal) friends, I live in Kansas.  There’s a horse farm behind me, I run by corn fields and sheep.  Cows escape and walk in my back yard and I ask my dad if I can keep it.  This is a foreign idea to them and they inform me quite frequently that I live in the boring boonies.

Most of the time I can say “touche, friends. Touche.”  But today, I can say HA!  As I was checking out my dad’s gutted 8 point buck hanging in our garage, I heard 4 sirens go off.  A siren isn’t an uncommon sound seeing as the fire department is 3 miles away.  However, this many so close is odd.  I asked him when we moved to Baltimore and went back inside.  Then we heard more.  And after that, a helicopter.  Well, the MD Medivac decided to land in my neighbor’s yard and the whole “neighborhood” came out to see the commotion.  I yelled hi to my Medivac friends, though they have probably turned over people since I caught my ride in ’06.

This gentleman in a flannel shirt, ratty jeans and boots comes up to my dad, who’s in flannel camo, ratty jeans and boots and discusses the possible injury of this poor soul.  Top of the list: Hunter fell out of a tree stand, Hunter got shot or just a measly heart attack.

#iwasbornandraisedintheboondocks

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Thanksgiving

photo: weheartit

thanks·giv·ing
noun /ˌTHaNGksˈgiviNG/ 
thanksgivings, plural

1) The expression of gratitude, esp. to God
   – he offered prayers in thanksgiving for his safe arrival
   – he described the service as a thanksgiving

2) (in North America) An annual national holiday marked by religious observances and a traditional meal including turkey. The holiday commemorates a harvest festival celebrated by the Pilgrims in 1621, and is held in the US on the fourth Thursday in November. A similar holiday is held in Canada, usually on the second Monday in October

3) A day where the Nicholson-Manger-Kisas clan joins together to eat a traditional meal that commemorates a harvest festival celebrated by the Pilgrims in 1621 and discusses conception and ovulation.  

Yes. I did say conception and ovulation.

It seems that lately, during holiday dinners, the conversation somehow ends up on conception, whether immaculate or regular (Christmas Eve was the toast to immaculate conception), ovulation and the production of children.  My sister the nurse said a family of her patients is keeping her in business because they’re having their 10th child.  That led us to the Duggar family having their 20th.  Which, in turn, led us to discussing how gross the Duggar wife’s uterus must be and planning sex around ovulation times so you have a higher chance of one gender over the other.

And this was without a drop of alcohol.

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Phoenix Airport…the friendliest

Sky Harbor International Airport (Phoenix) is known as “the friendliest airport.”  Well, it’s no wonder they’re friendly because they deal with seriously confused people all day long.  Why, you ask?  Because even though they might be friendly, their airport isn’t user friendly.  My friend and I got off our 1st 5 hour leg and walked into our terminal to find the next gate.  We looked at every flight board and it only had US Airways flights and our second leg was United.  So, we kept walking and turned down to another arm of gates searching for a flight board with all the flights.  Being utterly exhausted, we walked on the moving walkway and I 1) almost fell asleep standing and 2) wanted to rip out the recorded message that repeated every 15 seconds to tell me the walkway was going to end in 30 feet.

Anyway, no dice on the flight boards, so we find an employee who tells me, “Oh, you won’t find United here.  You gotta go to another terminal. So go out past security and find a person in purple.”  We did just that and meanwhile I’m thinking, why do I have to go out past security?  Am I going to have to go through that again?  So we find a nice old lady in purple who tells us to go out door 26 (really far away in my tiredness book) and get on the shuttle and go to terminal 2.  We followed the yellow brick road and found the shuttle where at least 5 other people asked if this took us to terminal 2 (the bus wasn’t well labeled).

We got off the shuttle and walked into the new terminal to find that yes, in fact, we did have to go through security once more.  And I was actually disappointed that I didn’t get the x-ray scanner.  So far I’m 9-1 for how many times I’ve been x-rayed at the airport this year.  I really wanted to be 10 for 10.

We grabbed breakfast, stretched and then curled up in the most awkward positions that should have hurt our backs and necks (according to an older gentleman) and slept for the majority of that flight.

 

hello october.

i wait for october the second it’s over.  that may seem sad, but it’s my favorite month.

why, you ask?  easy.

1) Football season at its best

2) Pumpkin flavored everything (pie, cookies, bread, coffee, ice cream)

3) That first crunch of an epic crunchy leaf

4) Flannel and scarves

5) Crisp air and the first time you can see your breath

6) HALLOWEEN

7) Holiday flavored creamers

8 ) Old crooner music (Dinah, Ella, Etta, Frank)

9) Colors

10) First fire in a fireplace

11) Lattes

12) Layers of blankets on your bed

should i go on?

songs you should listen to during this epic month:
1) glenn miller: moonlight serenade
2) dinah washington: what a difference a day makes
3) ella fitzgerald: stormy weather
4) dorothy moore: misty blue
5) billie holiday: i’ll be seeing you