What’s Up Loyal Hatter and Beanz followers? We’ve got some great changes coming your way, with an enhanced format for the Foodies, great ideas for those who fear the kitchen and super simple saving ideas for everyone in-between. Here’s a quick layout of what to expect from Hatter and Beanz in the coming weeks.

• Monday: We all know everyone loves a good lunch, and everyone needs that one “Hot Spot” thats close to their job, easy to get to and since it’s Monday, pretty affordable.
• Tuesday: We’ve searched high and low, visited a plethora of places and found the best of the best, that’s right we’re bring you some awesome “Happy Hour Hot Spots”. The Best Crowds, The Best Drinks, The Best Bartenders…Cheers!
• Wednesday: On Wednesday’s we’re going to review and highlight one of the retailers featured on our site. Here we will show our readers, what coupons might be out there, where the best shipping is and how each and every one of you can save up to 60% per order.
• Thursday: We’re going international. That’s right you crazy kids, we’re going to explore what restaurants are growing, where the best food is and how the atmosphere is. This isn’t your grandparents magical mystery tour, that’s for sure.
• Friday: Hey guys and gals, we at Hatter & Beanz like to think of Friday as date night. We’ll pick some great spots to chill, relax and get to know each other in. No we’re not highlighting the “quickie” cubby holes here. Sit Back. Relax. Enjoy.

That’s All For Now Folks,

-Hatter

T-3 hours and I will be on my way to Boston!!!!!

Brief review of the rest of yesterday…

Pumpkin Chili Quesadillas became pumpkin chili, cheese and spinach tacos.  Kind of a messy option for work.

Work was extremely busy yesterday I even forgot to snap a pic of the usual at the time of Shredded Wheat and Orange Cranberries.

I managed to get in 5 miles at the gym before heading to the Wine Merchant for the usual powerhouse and then onto kickball and we are another step closer to the Baltimore City Kickball Championship!

Powerhouse: tomatoes, sprouts, lettuce, cucs, munster and peppercorn dressing on amazing multigrain bread.

I watched Top Chef on demand from last night and found out my girl Jen lost   I have been cheering for her from the beginning.  Another year without a girl Top Chef!  1/6 is not good stats ladies!  As long as Brian doesn’t win I will be OK (That is the brother from Cali, I always mix them up so I think that is his name).

This morning I set out to make an amazing bowl of oat, and it was until I added extra salt without knowing it

1/2 cup oat bran, 1 banana, orange cranberries, pumpkin butter, almond butter, granola and the bottom of my mixed nuts bin aka the salt overloader.

This was so delicious until I mixed in the salt, I mean nuts.  I ate it anyway though.  I can’t stand wasting food.  I will just watch my intake for the rest of the day and drink lots of h20 once I get through security.

Ahhhhhh OK got to go finish packing and head out the door!!!!!!

I am going to try and blog from Boston, but if not be ready for a crazy review!

KATHERINE – I’M A COMIN’!

It is never a very good idea to go out on a Thursday evening. Especially if you are a light weight who can barely handle 2 glasses of wine, needs a good 7 or 8 hours of sleep and all faculties intact to teach the younger masses in the morning. Yet, having said all that, I did go out last night, to three different places, mind you, and have the bleary eyes, slight headache and stories to prove it.

First stop: an art exhibition at the Alliance Francaise. This was a highly cultural affair, with women dressed in interesting jewelry standing next to tall African men, hands on chins looking at paintings of elephants while sipping mulled wine and munching politely on small cubes of fruit cake. Mellow, Buddha Bar type music played in the background and lots of people smoked and spoke French. It was a place of artists, pretty people and those culturally inclined. I wanted to buy a small wooden elephant, splattered with colourful paint but it was already sold.

Next stop: a Korean restaurant large enough to host a royal wedding, with a menu that came in two books, heavy enough to squash a cockroach. We started at a table down stairs in a vacuous room that left me feeling I was alone in the wrong place and once our warm white wine arrived we moved to a private room where we tucked our feet down into the sunken floor and hoped that no rash creatures would crawl upon us. There was something decidingly seedy about the place, from the stained table cloths to the items on the menu that included fried gizzards and offal cooked with edible fungus. I opted for the bean curd soup but it proved inedible.  The waiter had a terribly hard time opening the wine. At one point he needed to use a bottle opener with a wrench attached on top to turn the stubborn screw around.  The four of us sat around the table, with our legs stretched into nether land, and laughed through two bottles of delicious but warm wine and spicy but terrible food.

Final Stop: a local bar, known widely as a place where lonely single people might find some company. Perhaps that is not fair. It is a popular watering hole, but on the side it is also what I like to refer to as a meat market. After watching the overweight, crumpled white guys dance and buy drinks for the pretty but professional black women; I thanked all my stars that I am happily married. Kampala is not an easy place to be single and last night was definitely the night for ugly white guys to go out and peruse the pros. The sight of prostitutes openly working a room is a new and alarming sight for me. This is something that I have never encountered before, especially since in most countries this phenomenon exists is a more clandestine form.

Bed: I remember crashing onto my bed somewhere around midnight.  Morning came far too quickly and I have been munching on dried Mangos to restore some semblance of alertness.

Thursday is Vault Day!

No explanation needed. This is some of the more raw and honest fiction I’ve written (It’s just an intro!). Read on, read on…

***

Yellow Ripples

Nora lit a cigarette. She’d been craving one since that morning when she lifted the covers just in time to see the light ricochet into her bedroom, off her wooden dresser, and around the corner into the nook where her bed was situated. She rose like a deep-sea diver. Her room’s clutter—soccer trophies, Matisse posters, large candles used as bookends for The Boxcar Children and Pushkin—transformed around her. Each item twisted and coiled with the sun’s glare, a stationary impersonation of the coral reef. Still, Nora’s body begged for nicotine not oxygen. She calculated the chances that two immediate family members would die of incurable cancers within months of one another. She pictured her stupid magic eight ball’s answer:

“It is decidedly so.”

She knew a small, plastic, and pretend bowling ball couldn’t predict her future, but this was precisely what she liked about the method—the capacity to write off any answer based on the game’s arbitrary nature, the absurdity of believing in a singular shiny, black ball. If she wanted a mulligan, a redo, a fresh insight, all it took was a second shake. And if she still didn’t like the outcome, then whatever. She hated any sport where the ball was that fucking heavy.

She stretched her arms. Yep, I made it. Another night. I bet you didn’t think I would. She wasn’t sure exactly who it was she was talking to—not God, or herself, or even her stuffed animals, cruelly overcrowded into a white wicker basket in the far corner of her room.

Nora glanced at the clock hourly. 1:40, 2:51, 3:38, 4:44, each number engrained in her mind like an iron time stamp, a tiny blurred red A-M pulsating directly to its right. The more she thought about sleeping, the clearer it became that she wouldn’t. Even her down comforter—checkered with slightly embarrassing purple, pastel bunnies—would be no help to her. Her mom bought it for her when she was 11-years-old and they had never even considered updating the pattern. Anyways, Nora didn’t care much for change.

I told you this was the Russel Show. Keep that in mind as you continue reading…

Here are the sequence of events that lead to the outcome of the final vote:

Shambo makes chicken soup, Dave wanted roast chicken. For some reason Shambo has a clarvoyant dream in which she votes off (meddling, roast-chicken preferring) Dave (I wonder why she had a dream like that…it must have been a God-thing). Russel gets on board. Russel can’t keep from revealing (bragging like a school boy) to John that he has the idol. He then realizes that he shouldnt have done that…now he’ll have to kill him. So will the vote be a) Dave (because he didnt want “chicken soup for the soul”), b) John (because Russel says so…) or c) Shambo (because let’s face it, she’s far too much of a hassle for what she’s worth…and she thinks she’s God’s messenger).

The answer…(remember my opening statement)….John voted off.

The Good:

• In the Survivor auction, the little dark-haired one won…an entire chicken.
• The little Blonde one scored a Peanut butter and jam sandwich (which she made look like the last supper) AND a shower…which somehow managed to not turn sexual (perhaps it was the grease that poured from her hair).
• Jaison finally won a challenge…for a big strong guy, he has yet to impress in challenges.
• Another serious blindside… Tribal counsel was a bevy of raised eybrows, quick side glances, jaw-drops and squinting confusion. priceless tv.

The Bad:

• Shambo refuses to be part of the Chicken killing. says they are like friends…as she precedes to gut and boil the inerds and eat the soup. Its like a person who campaigns against fur…but eats at Swiss Chalet every friday night.
• Shambo also revealing that she has a direct link to God. Really?!Why her?
• The ultimate fail: John wins clues to an idol that isn’t even there…eventually leading to his demise…should have bought the hamburger.

So next week, it looks like Jaison and Mick finally wise-up to the fact that Russel runs this show…and they might NOT be part of the plan. Now, whether they DO anything with that new-found information is up in the air. Will anyone be able to take out Russel?

An employed freelance

writer closely resembles

an unemployed person.

Turkey Pasta

Ingredients:

• 1 box of noodles
• 2 cups cut up turkey (substituted for chicken)
• 1 can cream of chicken soup
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/2 Parmesan cheese
• 1/2 cup grated carrots
• 1/2 cup grated zucchini
• 1 small onion, chopped
• garlic, salt and pepper to taste
• 3 tbsp butter

While the pasta is boiling (I used some rigatoni this time) you cook up the onion, carrots and zucchini in the butter and then add in the turkey, milk, cheese, soup and sour cream.  I didn’t use the cheese and it still tasted just fine.  Add in the spices to taste too.  Let it cook for a bit to mix and heat up and then mix it up with the cooked pasta and serve.

Sometimes it feels like I spend my life just counting down until the next break. After a lovely, rainy four days spent in Seattle over Thanksgiving, all I can think about is the three weeks I have left at school before I get to fly home again. Not that Thanksgiving wasn’t fun, though. It was wonderful to spend time with my family and friends, visiting my grandparents on the island and attending my home church and even looking at puppies. Speaking of puppies, we found the cutest 5-week-old puppy at a local breeder’s. I would post pictures, but I’m not sure how to get them off my phone and uploaded to my laptop. Technological fail. If my family ends up buying her for Christmas I’ll be sure to post photos. Right now we’re trying to decide on a name—anything from Lucy to Bertha to Tupperware (my dad’s idea, and definitely vetoed). Any suggestions? Let me know!

At any rate, it’s back to school to finish out the first half of senior year. I totally owned a 7-page paper that was due yesterday—the last formal essay I’ll have to turn in until 2010! I can’t describe how completely happy and relieved that makes me.

Despite all the stress of preparing for the upcoming finals week, this really is my favorite time of year. These days, a flurry of Christmas events are constantly interrupting our final papers and projects, which are more than welcome distractions. Last night a few trucks were brought to campus with a snow-making machine. I’ve never seen one before, probably just because Washington gets its own snow. It was the funniest thing to see a patch of white snow next to the parking lot, a crowd of ecstatic college kids (some of whom have only seen snow once or twice before) hurling snowballs at each other for all of a half hour. Afterwards, the Pickle Tree Lighting ceremony was held—one of my favorite traditions at school. One of the trees on campus, when strung with twinkling lights, actually resembles a giant pickle. Apparently, that’s as good a reason as any to gather over cookies and cider and caroling and a long speech called the Pickle Address. The rest of the weeks are filled with Christmas festivals, Christmas dorm parties, Christmas chapel, even a formal dance on the last day of classes. Perhaps it’s a bit overkill, but we definitely know how to get into the holiday spirit!

Samantha – I saw New Moon on the Friday it premiered (not a midnight showing though—didn’t have the energy or desire to sit in a theatre of star-struck Twilight fans) and had much the same reaction as you did. My favorite moment was at the end of the movie, when Edward kind of chokes on his proposal to Bella. The whole audience screamed really loudly and then went completely silent when the credits started rolling immediately afterwards.

Brandi – Black Friday is insane! I admire you for trying to brave the crowds. Shopping in packed places + getting up early = misery, at least for me. Good luck applying to colleges! I know how stressful that process can be, and I hope that it goes as well as possible.

Sarah – Aww! New cousins are so exciting. Working on Black Friday sounds horrid…I bet the customers are 10x as cranky as usual. At least you didn’t have to work terribly long! One of my roommates had a shift from 3:45am to 3:45pm. I can’t imagine a more agonizing way to spend the day after Thanksgiving.

Well, philosophy class is almost over, which is my cue to stop writing and focus on the lecture again. I hope you are all having pleasant weeks!

DFTBA,
Ashley

Yeah, well, its been a long few days, i meant to write yesterday, but coursework takes over 0_O

Anyway, CU was really fun yesterday we talked about money, and whether it was good or evil. I was on the team arguing for money, so we said about how we use our God given talents. They said that the love of money is the root of evil etc. I think we won though, we concluded that money is good, its the use that can be evil. And i forgot to invite the guys to Ignite on sat

WOOO IGNITE i love it, it should be good trying to get people to come, but i haven’t seen the normal guys for ages :/

The coursework I spent ages doing yesterday was really good it was just a draft, but apparently i only have to do a bit of work on it.
Kinda looking forward to getting my hair cut off :/ just need people to sponsor lol

Sam

Dear Blog….no…To Whom It May Concern…no that’s what douches write..

O hai.

So it all goes downhill from here now since i am the first rookie posting in the blog. So we’ll see what happens here…I’ll try to not make my life sound painfully boring and add some droll to it mayhaps.

So yes…i am a giant douche in Balloono. I nom all the speedz and then i nom on all yo upgrades. Why you’re probably thinking to yourself “But Ken…if you know you’re being a douche…why do you continue doing so?” Well you quizzical soul…i shall tell you. I do this because i enjoy hearing people scream ridiculously high pitched. I’m not just referring to like “Ow that hurt my ears that was loud” no, i am referring to the highest pitch that is feasible for your ears to even notice.  This is why i am such a balloono turd bag. It is mycurse…and it brings the lulz.

So anywho, enough of that balloono monologue. Now for the part that will make you cringe and cry of boredom. Yesterday, i took a test on a book (Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, you should all read it…its humorous). Anywho, so im getting ready to take the test and i sit in the back of the class. So theres one paper short so i stand up to ask for one. And my teacher (who looks like harry potter and waldo’s love child) goes “Kenneth you’re exempt from the test. So of course I’m all “lolwut?” and then he goes “just kidding” and i was sad….because, for that brief moment i actually believed his terrible terrible lie. On a more positive note, i believe i pwnd that test and made it my woman. I’m pretty much done with my school… i have one more day of classes (tomorrow) and my lit teacher informs all of us that we’ll be “doing something special” tomorrow. That either means that we’re gonna be having a party or something like that…or he’s gonna make us play a rousing game of Russian Roulette for a good grade….one of the two.

So i have a cat (best way to start a paragraph, i know) and lately he’s been throwin up alot. Well thats not that big of a deal considering hes a cat and they pretty much compulsively lick their hair until the throw it up and leave the owners to pick it up (which most of the time happens to be me). However, recently he started throwing up blood, so of course we take him to the vet and get a call the next day saying he might have cancer in his stomach. Obviously we were not thrilled with this. However, later that day it turns out what looked like cancer on the x-ray just happened to be gas. So my cat successfully had a thousand dollar fart that we were all worried about. Touche cat….touche. So we took him home (he was all drugged up and droolin everywhere…which coincidentally reminded me of alot of my friends when they get drunk) and fed him his special food. Today he’s fine he’s eating normal food and hasn’t thown up yet. So yay.

So besides those two events…things have been quite dull… Mostly i’ve just been ever so social and hanging around on the internet popping people with balloons and drawing certain things.

See this is where i start being a newb…I’m currently trying to upload a picture of myself…but apparently wordpress doesnt want me to ruin its site with such filth. So i’ll have to do this later. When people can hold my hand and guide me through such things.

I deed it…never mind.
Oh yes…and what i’ve asked for Christmas… i want guitar stuff mosty (distortion pedals) and a vidgeo game (MW2) so i can pwn TBK on it.

Solojärvi in Inari.

Click the pic!

With Thursday staples like Greys and CSI in re-run status, what are we going to turn to this thursday night?

I’m here for you, Here’s what I’m watching tonight:

Survivor-

After last weeks disappointment (the Re-cap episode…boo, hiss), we are finally back to the game tonight. Foa Foa lead by the mastermind Russell, will try to yet again swindle Galu into turning on one of their own (it’s worked three weeks in a row now…). Shambo is as good as puddy in the hands of Russell, and it looks as though both John and Dave might be on that train this episode. What’s really getting my goat, is the little blonde puppy dog that has latched onto Russel. Next she’ll be calling him Daddy…shudder. Play your own game girls! (it’s a metaphor for life). 

I also saw a preview for a “Survivor Auction“…which is always entertaining! I love the looks on the contestants faces when they see a stick of chocolate and peanut butter…its the look of walking through the Pearly Gates…priceless!

This show will last us until very close to christmas, so if you are looking for something to tune into…this is the best bet. Love or hate him…Russell is very very good TV! Tonight, 8pm CBS/GLobal

Leafs vs Colombus-

Only those Leaf fans that have money will see this one though…its on Leafs TV (boo, hiss) But it will be interesting to see how the suddenly surging Maple Leafs will fare with the absence of no 1 goaltender  Gustavsson and rookie D-man Gunnarsson. The Leafs are “in the hunt” for the first time this season, and are gunning to be in the mix of under-performing teams in the east to vie for 8th spot. There has been some rumblings about a trade with Chicago that will bring Patrick Sharp and Brett Sopel to town…but my inclings tell me that might be a)too good to be true and b)put on the backburner in place of finding a goalie.

Leafs go for it tonight at 7pm, Leafs TV (I will be watching the highlights…)

Other New options:

The Office, 9 pm NBC
30 Rock, 9:30 NBC – Whoopi Goldberg is guesting on this one…

Slow night, but whatever you decide to watch, (make sure it’s Survivor) have a great TV Night.

day 1997
decided today
would be a “silent Thursday” -
quiet production

PLAN A: Little Dragon, Pollyn, DJ Blacq Shampoo @ The Casbah. What are the holier-than-thou tastemakers at KCRW salivating over these days, other than Little Dragon? (For more on them, see Sammi Skolmoski’s great feature in this week’s issue.) That would be Pollyn, an L.A. trip-hop trio that has a hot singer, make-out worthy songs (“Still Love”) and a wicked live cover of “Tom’s Diner.” PLAN B: The Fresh & Onlys, Woven Bones @ Bar Pink. It’s easy to see why Crocodiles singer Brandon Welchez recently released the Woven Bones EP on his Zoo Music label. The Austin quartet is similar in sound to Crocodiles but cops a much bigger attitude. Think less Jesus and Mary Chain, more Cramps and Stooges. BACKUP PLAN: Jenny Scheinman @ The Loft. She’s arranged songs for Bono, Lucinda Williams and Lou Reed, but why this exceptionally talented composer/violinist has waited four albums to show off her vocal chops is beyond me (see video below). The next big alt-country phenom? I’d like to think so.  

OTHER COOL STUFF:

“Night Vision” feat. Franki Chan @ Voyeur. Bringing hope to geeks everywhere,  Franki Chan is an Indiana-raised comic book illustrator who became a DJ and now owns the lifestylebrand/record label IHEARTCOMIX, who have put out records by Matt & Kim, Protokoll, Toxic Avenger, amongst others. His emphasis-on-fun electro should fit in great amongst the Nite Vision regulars.

“The Pink Party” @ House of Blues. ‘Tis the season for a little altruism, and while I’d initially be hesitant to go to anything Downtown called The Pink Party, as soon as you hit the website, the appeal comes into focus: “The Pink Party’s mission is to bring optimal breast health to every human being,” says a voice. Well, that’s a party I can get behind. HOB will be decked out in the color of the night, and partygoers will enjoy New Orleans-themed food, cirque performers, a fashion show from Medavog Couture and music from DJ Lea Luna and Sunset Lounge Company. Most of the proceeds go to breast-cancer charities. $20 advance, $30 at the door. 

Scarlet Symphony, The Vision of A Dying World, Lanterns @ SDSU Backdoor.

“El Dorado One Year Anniversary Party” feat. DJ Groundfloor, Saul Q, Ratstar @ El Dorado. Free specialty Mule cocktails while supplies last.

Nappy Roots @ 710 Beach Club.

Peewee Moore & The Awful Dreadful Snakes, Bill Cardinal, Shaun T. Morgan @ Radio Room.

Gortuary, Pathology, Deadly Remain, Shattered Eyes, Diabolical Remains @ Ruby Room.

Eno, Lounie Tunes, OG Rank, Black Resume, Gordo, Diego Style Music, Loudmoufz @ Brick by Brick.

The Canton Mudders, Tiny Frank, Morning On Fire @ Tin Can Ale House.

“Bill Caballero’s Latin Jazz Jam Session” @ Voz Alta.

Nebula, Red Octopus, Radio Moscow @ Ken Club.

Nothingful @ Soda Bar.

VenetianPrincess – Speidi Free

VenetianPrincess – You’ll Look Like Poo

Love is scary.

Yes, it’s beautiful and inspiring and romantic.  But loving someone means handing them the power to break your heart.  Sometimes you are brave and you let them know they hold your delicate heart in their hands, and other times you hold that secret out of fear, but the truth is that someone breaking your heart without knowing they held it hurts as much as when they absolutely knew the treasure they guarded.

For me, the last ten years have been the big heartbreak of my life, so far.

When I got married, it was to a childhood friend.  I loved him, but I think some of my decision was rooted in the fact that I felt he was “safe.”  I didn’t think he’d ever leave me.  It was less about what I DID want and more about avoiding what I DIDN’T want: to be abandoned by yet another man I cared about.  As much as I could place the blame for the shambles our marriage became on him due to his actions, I think I should bear part of the responsibility just for the fact that I did not enter into the relationship with the right frame of heart and mind.

I made it very clear before we got serious that it was important to me to be able to stay home with any children we would have together for at least the first year, and preferably until they started school.  He agreed fully, and until our first child was born, seemed to take pride in providing for the son he had custody of as well as myself and my son.  But within weeks of Emily’s birth, the Dark Ages began.

The next five or six years were a blur of one struggle after another.  He disappointed me almost constantly, with his lies and his disappearances and his choices and his utter lack of responsibility for the family he had as much of a hand in creating as I did.  I became someone unnatural to me; a coping mechanism gone wrong.  Anxiety, depression, and anger built up inside me as I did anything it took to provide for our children.

Oh, the anger.  How it twists and burns inside.

Eventually, things improved.  The lies became less, nearly eradicated.  He became a reliable worker, though money always seemed short due to poor management.  The partying and socializing didn’t overshadow the family, for the most part.

But I felt like he wanted me to pat him on the back for making all of these changes-when they were things he *should* have been doing from the start.  And the resentment continued to bubble inside, as he expected the previous years of hell to just disappear.  I tried for years to make it work.  But the wall I had built was too high….too thick.  He wasn’t the same man he once was; he was a much, much better man.  But I couldn’t see through the ghost of the Dark Ages to love him anymore.  Not the way a woman should love her man.

So I left him.

And though his heartbreak began then, mine finally ended.

Dear Santa,

I haven’t asked you for anything for a long, long time.  Mostly because wearing your shoes every Christmas since I became a mother has made my own Christmas wishes seem so unimportant.  But this year I want something, and I want it badly enough to ask for a little help in making it happen.

See, I know this isn’t a wish you can create out of thin air.  It’s something that I will have to do my share of working on.  But I am ready and willing to do so, and I’m just hoping for a little magic to help me on my way.

You know that new situation in my life?  The one I am enjoying so much?  Can you help me make it last?

Thank you.

Yours,
Me

We are going to start a new tradition here at officedaze, and that’s to provide you, my non-existent readers, with a drink recipe each Thirsty Thursday.  Because, if you’re anything like me, waiting ’til Friday to start drinking just seems illogical. It’s ok to get shitfaced tonight because I can make it through 1 day of work hung over (or 2, depending on how Sunday goes). After all, I can do my job high, drunk, hung over, blind, malnourished, lobotomized, and probably asleep. The drink of choice will reflect what kind of week I am having, and recipes can be altered to be made stronger/weaker (I like ‘em stiff, so proceed with caution).

But we will get to that later.

Right now I am going to focus on the obvious: it’s December, and thus, the holiday season is in full swing.

Now, for those of you who are living in white upper-class suburbia with their parents and barely scraping by, you can probably relate to me. And, well, the fact of the matter is, I am probably going to visited by the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future in roughly 21 days. December just needs to be over. I literally put a $25 cap on all gifts, and I still think I am going to burn a hole through my wallet. It’s not that I don’t love giving, and I do think sharing is caring- I’d just rather not have to give everyone I know gifts simultaneously. So that brings me to the following list of why the holidays make me consider taking prozac laced with xanax followed with a black velvet chaser:

1) This one goes without saying, but the financial aspects of the holidays are nauseating. I know it’s not just me, and that there are others out there who think that the tradition of emptying your bank account in an effort to buy love  from everyone you know is equally as disturbing as the fact that someone, somewhere, likes fruit cake, or the stores wouldn’t keep selling it. What the hell are birthdays for? It makes so much more sense to spread out your gift expenses throughout the year for those special days than to put yourself in debt so as to avoid having a barren space beneath your green plastic imitation of life.

2) Ok, this is going to make me sound like a total douche, but what is with people who think that just because my birthday is 6 days after Christmas that they can COMBINE my Christmas and birthday gift? Ok, ass hole, I not only bought you an entirely SEPARATE gift for your damn special day, but I ALSO bought you a Christmas gift. Puh-lease, loser, don’t try to cheap your way out of this one. Just because I happened to be born a few days after Jesus doesn’t mean that I should get shafted out of my own special day. Frankly, I would prefer if you just called it my birthday gift and didn’t get me a Christmas gift at all (because then I’ll just buy you a b-day gift and skip out on your X-mas gift in return…we both win).

3) Jesus. I mean, I don’t even know how many people I am about to offend, but, frankly, I don’t care. I’m sure that if me and the big J were in existence simultaneously, we probably would have gotten along. From the tales I’ve heard, he seems like a chill guy. And given my past reputation for liking broke dudes with beards, I may have even had a thing for him. But, here’s the thing, we’re not living in the same era, or even the same dimension as far as I know, and, in fact, I’m not convinced that J-dawg is really the son of an entity that I do not even invest belief in. Yet, I am expected to celebrate his birthday by giving gifts to…everyone other than him? Not only does this make little sense to me, but I actually feel bad for the guy. He’s just being used so that stores can bank once a year. Hello greedy consumerists and manipulative merchants.

4) What is CHRISTmas even about anymore? I mean, it’s totes not about Christ. Santa is the face of the holiday, not the son of god. And it’s all about trees, presents and cookies, not about a manger and the supposed virginal birth (wow, how bad would that HURT? We should probably take the focus off everyone else and celebrate Mary for either giving birth while popping her cherry or getting away with the best. lie. of. all. time.). No one would care about Christmas if it wasn’t for the gifts. It would just be Thanksgiving part 2, and you just can’t have 2 Thanksgivings that close together (unless you’re not the one cooking, in which case, Thanksgiving could probably be everyday).

5) My mom. The thing is, my family knows I’m broke as a joke, and most of them accept this fact and know I’m not going to be dishing out iPods for X-mas. But my mom…she’s a whole other story. She has this great way of outwardly acting like she loves the crappy $25 worth of crap I will give her, while still exuding an underlying disappointment and resentment that just screams, “I birthed you and raised you and  showered you with gifts your whole life and all you got me was this shitty cheese platter?” I get it. Who doesn’t love gifts? When does an iPhone or Le Creuset pot not make your day brighter? I know I won’t complain when my gramma gives me seasons 1-4 of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia on DVD. But, jiminy cricket, mother, if I have any spare change lying around, it’s going towards my future rent, which I think will make us all a lot happier and more thankful than an hermes scarf that you’ll wear 3 times and then decide is out of season.

6) Returns, exchanges, the clutter of things you were too lazy to bring back. Every year I get a lot of stuff I don’t want. This could be because I really don’t feel there are a lot of things I need, so, in a desperate attempt to get me the same amount of gifts as my sister and cousin, my grandma gets me silly knickknacks, such as music boxes, snow globes, jewelry boxes, and general crap that I don’t want/need/use. I appreciate that she is trying to be fair and doesn’t want me to feel like I’m being cheated, but I would rather get nothing at all than get stuff I don’t know what to do with. However, lord knows where she bought this crap (probably the home shopping network?), so I have no way to return or exchange any of it. Thus, I am left with another useless item to add to the already towering stack in my closet. Furthermore, if I do know where to exchange or return something, I rarely end up doing it, because it’s just such a headache to stand in line behind all the bitches who think it’s their prerogative to rip the person at the customer service desk a new one even though they’re the one without a gift receipt (“the person who gave me this told me it’s from HERE! You should just take it back!” or “What do you mean I can only get store credit? Of course I don’t have the credit card it was purchased on, it was a gift! Why can’t you just give me cash?”). By the time I get up to the counter, it doesn’t even matter how friendly I am, the person on the other side is going to be a bastard (and rightfully so) after dealing with all the other twats ahead of me. So, even when I make what I think is a light-hearted joke, the inevitable icy glare I get in response will surely put me into that dark place that I hate going to.

Have you had enough yet? Well, me too.

So that brings us to the good stuff: Thirsty Thursday Happy Hour Drink Special! This week’s drink is mild, to say the least, because I have had a pretty slow week, so I am going to slowly slip into inebriation instead of diving in head first.

Glühwein

• one bottle red wine (for me, the dryer, the better, but get one you like)
• 2 shots brandy (optional)
• 4 oz. water
• 2 oz. sugar (may need more if using cheap wine…adjust accordingly)
• one stick of cinnamon
• anise
• three cloves
• 1 tbsp. lemon peel
• 1 tbsp. orange peel

Instructions:

Boil the sugar and spices in  water, leaving them to soak for half an hour. Then, strain the water and mix with wine and brandy. Heat, but don’t boil. Float lemon and orange peels on top. Garnish with a cinnamon stick. You can serve it in a cute Irish coffee glass as pictured, or you can just do like me and put it in a jug/vase/thermos and just go to town.

Last week’s blog referenced the power of the brain and how art uses this amazing human instrument.  As the brain and creativity are both tools that enable self-expression, art therapy also possesses the advantage to be a tool for conversation.  Understanding the feelings and thoughts of others is quiet a feat, much less understanding our own.  Since so much of our communication does not involve words, we have the opportunity to use this to our advantage.  One way art therapy can be helpful is through encouraging creative experiences in the context of a relationships.

 At RCASA, when an individual faces a conflict or trauma, their supporters become susceptible to vicarious traumatization (being traumatized by another person’s traumatic experience).  It may result in a difficulty for all parties to process this.  Art can become the avenue for processing that conversation. 

 We see signs every day made of shapes and symbols that convey a message to us.  Through making art together, we can use the same creative language to meet on a nonverbal level.

For today’s treasure hunt, let’s find new meaning in that oh-so-generic “Season’s Greetings”. Because these greetings are almost always exchanged before Christmas, we can think of them as Advent greetings. That is, after all, the season in which we are being greeted. May “Season’s Greetings” remind you that this is Advent, a season of preparation for Christmas, but also a season of preparation for the end of time. May we be found ready for “the great and terrible day” (Micah 3:23), so that we will be among those who fear His Name, for whom “will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays” (Micah 3:20).