A Christmas Story: American Pie

I'm glad to report that I got my shopping done on time for my family to get here for Christmas! Yay! Just in time for the merriment to begin! Allow me to recap:


Dad got pulled into my HSM show. And stole it, I might add. Too bad the hat was too small for his head.

Then I forced them to dance in the rain in Block Party Bash. I really couldn't tell you what any of us are doing, but it's probably not original choreography.

Then they all met Sorcerer Mickey and his friends at Fantasmic! They were much more poised and eloquent than the last time they met characters, I must say.

So let me explain a family tradition:

At home on holidays, we all play a game with family and friends called "Shake of the Day" that involves a cup and five dice. Like Yahtzee, the object is to shake up the dice in the cup, and roll five of a kind. Except you put money in the pot to play, and put in more to get an extra roll. The good news is, if you get five of a kind, you get half of the money in the pot! I won twenty bucks on Easter of '09. It's very intense.

Well, since we weren't at home, we did our own SHAKE of the day...

Dad won.

The point of my story is, they brought Christmas. As crazy and exhausted as we all got, we didn't care as long as we kept eating and laughing. And we did.

Merry Christmas. May you laughter fill all the holes and drifts in your life, as it did in mine.

A Christmas Story: 12 Days of Africa

I found more Christmas. This video illustrates how my brain waves go haywire this time of year. Watch, enjoy, and relate.

A Christmas Story: Miracle on Gilford Point Lane

Last night, my roomies and I had a little Christmas pow wow before one of us (not me or Sara) swam away to sail around the world.

*find me in the ornament reflection*

Ansley got me this fancy wine glass with divas like me in chic outfits like me.

Sara got me this penis enlarger..........JUST KIDDING! It's a cookie press!

Look at all the cookies I can make! See how it pays to be friends with me?

Then Ansley bossed Chad around.

And we took a last roommate picture in front of the cardboard tv/fireplace mantle with ribbons on our heads.

Sofia thought we looked appalling.


Then we got drunk and passed out under the tree.

Then we woke up and we were stuck.

And we laughed about how funny Ansley's neck looks in the previous picture.

So we went back to sleep and waited for Santa....or Sofia.




I'm glad we took time out of our schedule of stress and packing to laugh for awhile. I found a little bit of Christmas by our front window...

Are you peacocking?...

So I was eating my eggs and my toast this morning, using my pants as a napkin, and I realized how much I love peacocks.

I think they're the most gorgeous creatures that I wish I was, aside from a hippogriff.

They've been around since ancient chinese times, which means they're probably smarter than us.

Oops, someone forgot to color this one in.

I want this ceiling in my townhome RIGHT NOW.

And I want this dress on my twirling body RIGHT NOW.

Maybe I'll wait awhile to put this one on. But isn't it amazing???




text me :)

A Christmas Story: O Come, All Ye Humble

I KNOW, CELINE!!! I KNOW!!!!!!

This time of year is particularly starshined because big time celebrities swoop into DisneyWorld from across the land and grace us with their talent. And they don't even need to lip sync...er......

Anyway, today "the greatest singer in all the world" came to sing to "all ye faithful" and so, Brycrasch and I waded through the rain to the lobby of the Grand Floridian. As a sternum beating singer myself, I knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Risers overflowed with robed choir members, cameras swung on dollies, rafters and balconies flooded with guests, glittered trees and giant wrapped boxes twinkled in rigged lighting, and I found myself wedged in a sardined crowd of people, the majority of which who towered over me, waiting for Celine Dion to float onstage and open her pipes to my anxious, humble soul. I had hopes for finding my "meaning of Christmas" through simply being in the presence of the superstar that belted the theme song to the movie that made me want to be an actor at 12 years old. Even if she didn't do anything, I knew that just having a brush with superstardom would've had me on a high for months. But the time clock at block party ticked away...

And I had to leave right before she came out.

I was very upset. After cursing my job for the thousandth time, and feeling injustice drown me in the rain, I realized that Celine Dion couldn't bring me Christmas this year. I'd have to keep searching for it.

Would've been cool though....

Thinspiration

I had a wonderful night of THINspiration broadcast to me on television the other night. Let's recap.

I don't normally watch The Biggest Loser, but it absolutely THINspired me to see people who've overcome years of obesity and gotten their lives back. If they can do that, I can certainly drop a size or two.



THEN I watched the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show..... I don't think I need to explain myself.

But I love these wings.

So I got up and went to the gym the next day, balls to the walls.






Can you keep a secret?

I got emotional when Heidi took the catwalk. She's so iconic.

A Christmas Story: The Epiphany

So after Scrooge-ing for as long as I could last year, and milking (or nogging, if I may) my "woe-is-me" attitude for all it was worth, which wasn't very much, I've decided to like Christmas this year. It actually took a lot of effort to make sure people knew I chose to Bah Humbug instead of enjoy my young adult Christmas. I'm over that.

I realized my need for a change on Thanksgiving, when a simple song ("Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas") made me lose all composure...three times. So since I was starting the season being sensitive, I figured I might as well let it in, and let it out.

However, I do feel like I need to search for my own "meaning of Christmas" that may or may not have anything to do with cinnamon brooms, Hallmark original movies, mistletoe, snoap, buying shoes for sick mothers, salvation army bell ringers, or the origins of the word "yule".

To get the ball rolling, I've come up with a To-Do list, pulling reference from all good Christmas stories:

1.) Fall in love

2.) Cut down my own Christmas tree

3.) Rescue an animal that's stubbornly found its way to my back door, and thus, into my heart

4.) Win the lottery and give all, well....some of the money to a sick kid.

5.) Find my way to the North Pole

6.) Reunite with a long lost brother or sister, who's biracial or handicapped

7.) Get stranded in a snowy mountain cabin (and then do #1)

8.) Immaculately conceive

9.) Save Whoville

10.) Cover the entirety of my house in christmas lights

I'll be very busy this year...

OR I'll just be open to what Christmas has in store for me. I'll keep it posted...

Gratitude

Time to count my blessings.


Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for gorgeous, funky, elegant chandeliers. They're the perfect whimsy to shine light into the darkest of rooms. I want one in my bedroom.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for stove-popped popcorn. It's so much better than the bagged stuff. But not better than movie theater stuff.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you a thousand times for Anthropologie, my favorite shopping sanctuary. Some people desire cars, others desire mansions, I just want an impeccable wardrobe
and timeless housewares.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for stick figurines. They understand the importance of simplicity.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you so much for angelic, snow capped marshmallows. They're lovely. No wonder I was bribed with them while potty training (True Story). I understood their divinity at a young age. Oh my, is this picture an Anthropologie storefront window? I daresay it is. I rest my aforementioned case.

Thinspiration

My recent thin- spiration as of late would be from my adventure to the tax collector's office to get the title and registration for my car.

Allow me to explain:

Today I wore sinny jeans, boots, and a fitted tshirt. Other tax collection customers wore this outfit as well. How do I put this eloquently? Now, I'm not saying I look entirely modelesque in this outfit, but let me tell you, I looked straight of the runway in Milan in comparison to my contemporaries, to put it nicely. It was like being in a bakery, I saw so many muffin tops. I'm going to hell. This THINspired me to continue my plight to be thin and trim to be able to wear fashions, muffin top free.

That having been said, the total fee to title and register my car was....drumroll....

$465.90!!!!!!!!!!

And now I'm THINspired to not eat out. Or buy groceries. Or buy clothes I look bad in. Because I can't.

Okay, the part about the groceries is kind of dramatic.

On the flip side, my car is officially mine. Until I sell it and get all of that money back. So I probably shouldn't be freaking out that much...

...Okay, I'm fine.

Hello, November

Happy November. I think it's a good sign that the month started out with an extra hour. I'm glad it's here.

October stressed me out.

say what?

My lack of postage about PostSecret may lead you to think I love it less. Oh, contrare. I'm just not very good about posting anything. Besides, who doesn't like a more concise run-down of the past few weeks? Whatever, so... here's a compilation of my faves over the past month or so.

Besides, I would taste like hand sanitizer because I'm injesting it into my bloodstream...

My inside cat takes it upon herself to tell ME when she's ready to look outside. Or she waits for someone to leave the door open...

I love this. It says "I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings because I know that I'm the one who's lucky enough to make you feel better later. So let's be idiotic together forever." And isn't that what destiny is?

Yale? Who knew? I thought someone sent this in from Disney. All of my sexy is wasting away...

Raise your hand if you've ever been taking to someone, they scratch their nose, and you panic that they're actually sending you a silent "you have something in your nose" signal, when in reality, their nose simply itched.

My secret:

When I was sick last week, I made a list in my head of people who would visit me in the hospital if I really got that bad. I like to think my mom would fly down, and that I'd make a full recovery.

Carve it up

It's pumpkin carving season! This year, my peeps and I inadvertently made a murder scene, with lots of pumpkin carnage. Lovely. So I've checked out what some other Halloweeners have done with pumpkins:

Yummmm.

Oh I get it. Pumpkin Pi.

This carnage is better than ours, I concede....

oops! Don't know how this made it onto my blog.

Oh, the fear....




nom nom nom

Barely bubonic...

I thought the plague was out in, oh, the 1500's but apparently it's making a comeback. And I've caught it. The good news is, I've had a lot of time to catch up on my reading list:
~the Time Traveler's Wife
~1,001 Best Things to do in New York City
~Glamour

and i'm a few pounds closer to my goal weight.

So if I don't pull through, I'd like you all to know that I've very much enjoyed blogging and hope I have a computer in heaven.

Facelift

Crazies and Jellyspoons, Cirque Du SolErin has been given a makeover. I hope you like it. And I hope I write more because of it. I dunno, dying my hair makes me play with it more, and rearranging my room makes me go into it more, so maybe the rule will apply to my blog.

18 days into October...

Yes, bloggers and blogettes, my birthday fast approaches. I will be accepting the milestone of my quarter-life. I will be celebrating the 4th anniversary of my 21st birthday. And I will not be doing it at Atlantic Dance Hall. Nope, I prefer copious amounts of food and wine over awkward skinny dancing guy and retirees.

In lieu of facebook wall messages, I'd prefer the following gifts:

1.) snow.

2.) mad booty shaking skills.

3.) for spats and slap bracelets to come back in style.

4.) magenta hair.

5.) constant instrumental underscore, and un-rehearsed choreography.

It's a short list, I've got most of what I need already.

The greatest month of the year...

Ladies and Jellyspoons, today is the first day of the greatest month of the year: OCTOBER!!! I'm in LOVE with this month and here's why:

1. Halloween, obviously, is the most exciting holiday of the year, and October saves the best for last. I hope you all have planned your costumes. But don't make them better than mine.

2. It's the only month that starts with O.

3. The prefix "oct" means 8, but October is the tenth month, which means it's cheeky, and I support clever things.

4. It's my birth month. (October 18th. I'll be blogging about that later, i'm sure).

5. I look better in reds and oranges than greens. So my complexion looks better when i'm climbing trees.

6. I love pumpkins, people shaped like pumpkins, and the nickname "Punkin".

7. I love pumpkin spiced things including candles, lattes, muffins, toothpaste, air fresheners, and edible underpants...i mean...

8. It starts getting cool. And in Florida, I do mean "starts" getting cool.

9. It's a popular awareness month: breast cancer, domestic violence, fire prevention, my birthday...

10. Oktoberfest. This month is one big happy hour. (Sorry it's spelled with a k, Bry.)

So, ghouls and goblins, Donnie and Maries, and salt and pepper shakers, have an Octastic October!!!!

Gratitude

It's time to step back and say THANK YOU to the Universe for some awesome stuff in my life.


Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for bread and butter. It's like a hug from my mom. And thank you also for this hilarious kid's drawing of said blessing. It looks like butt bread.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for making celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe, as well as her project, so bananas. I hope you know it's an expression when we talk about "dying"...

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you so much for my Crystal Light crack packs. I mean, I know you turned water into wine, but Crystal Light is really giving you a run for your money on this one...

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you for this fall's hit comedy "Glee"! I can't wait for show choir to be cool again! Except I'm not in school anymore. And I thank you for that as well.

Dear Baby Jesus, thank you thank you thank you for Lush Handmade Cosmetics. Wherever did you find forbidden apple nectar, burning bush sap, and angels' farts to make such exquisite handsoaps and bath bombs? It is, pardon the expression, divine.