I'll Get You "POLKA DISCO"

One of my favorite hobbies in years past was to shop for records. I still like to rifle through the bins of old music in antique stores and thrift shops. I have had a difficult time justifying this habit because I don’t have a turn table. I lost my old warbler and most of my record collection to the great storage unit flood of ’97.
Kurt and Marie bought me a new record player for Christmas!
It hasn’t arrived yet but I am counting the days until I can whistle along to the ole “Alpine Yodeling” and “World’s Greatest Polka” records.
These survived along with "Hey God Listen!" A children talk to god musical featuring the song stylings of Sunday School Picnic, the soundtrack to "Pretty in Pink" and I think I still have the Beastie Boys “License to Ill”


My New Year's Resolution...





to make this mine.

You Read This?

I am always surprised to find that people actually read my blog. I was a little taken aback by the phone call and concerned e-mails I received in response to my “Me, Blue” post. I didn’t mean for my blog entry to sound so cryptic and sad. There was no major event that triggered my bit of post yuletide wallowing. At least nothing a little pool game, some dark chocolate and a couple of stiff drinks at the 9lb Hammer couldn’t fix. Thank you for your concern, though. No worries. All better now.

Dress Code

What better antidote to fragile sad girl drama, than some quality geek boy time.
I met David and JR at Lincoln Square for some pool last night.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to remove your hat” the condescending greeter at the Parlor Pool Hall said through a big toothy smile.
“I’m sorry, what?” I must have heard wrong, as this was a pool hall. I thought they can't have a dress code at a pool hall. (Yes, I think in italics)
“We have a dress code to uphold, you will need to remove your hat” he sneered.
I had to take off my hat.
JR had to check his Red Sox cap, yet David Bander’s giant print “BOOBIES MAKE ME SMILE” t- shirt falls within the Parlor’s strict dress code.
Hee hee, the word boobies makes me smile.

Me, Blue.

Most people learn from their mistakes. Not me. I just keep making the same ones over and over in an attempt to prove that they weren’t mistakes to begin with.
Hey, at least I’m consistent.

A Gin Soaked Christmas Card.

I didn’t send out Christmas cards this year so I’d like to send a season’s greetings blog entry to my very close friends.

Merry Christmas Knob Creek Whiskey. You kicked my ass and yet I still keep coming back for more…typical woman.

Feliz Navidad Tequila, I am still trying to remember the details of our last evening together, but I love my Pancho Villa ass tattoo.

Limoncello you pledge scented tease, thanks for keeping me company this weekend…oh yeah, you too Sangria.

Season’s greetings to my aquiantances. Brandy, Schnappes, and Gin We don’t see much of each other but I am glad you are in my life.

My blog and various children’s musicals are brought to you by my co-worker Cheap Red Wine.

I musn’t forget my buddies on tap. (I didn’t really cheat on you boys… It was only one can of PBR…I didn’t even finish it…honest).

Manhattan you are class act, it was great spending so much time together. I couldn’t have finished my Christmas shopping without you...or my taxes.

A big Holiday hug and a special kiss beneath the mistletoe goes to my sweet Johnny Walker. You are my rock man...in fact, you are my scissors and paper too.

As Tiny Tim once said while downing a fifth of Bourbon
“God Bless Us Everyone!” actually, I’m pretty sure he said “Hogh ijlk jkla” and passed out with his crutch and his ukelele.
Man that kid had a low tolerance.

Pistol Packin' Elk

You know how I’m really into hunting right?
There is an arcade game (do they still call them that?) at this pool hall that’s called Big Buck Hunter Pro.
There is a level called Antelope Shoot Out, which to me begs the question…where did the antelope get firearms?

Mommy and Ravi's Big Day Out

There is a woman who shops at the Queen Anne Trader Joes with a young child named Ravi. How do I know this? His mother said his name 86 times within the short time they seemed to be trailing me. It was bad enough she would say his name every time she needed to speak. But she spoke to him in third person as well.

“Mommy needs Ravi to put the Woven Wheats back on the shelf where you found them since we aren’t going to buy those today”

“No, Ravi’s family doesn’t eat that kind of cheese…that kind of cheese come from animals…maybe the nice man will move his cart so mommy can reach the soy cheese”

“Do you think Ravi can put the hummus in the cart by himself for mommy”

Oh for the love of Christ, either ask him in a direct manner or grab the damn hummus and put it in your freakin cart lady!

"Can Ravi pick out a bag of salad mix and move over a little and let the nice woman get past us.
What me? Nice woman?
I am sorry but Mommy must have me confused with someone else. Perhaps someone that thinks Ravi and Mommy’s happy fun shopping excursion is just as precious to all the other Trader Joes customers as it is to Mommy.

Let me just go on record as saying. I don’t hate kids. I teach children. I love children. I think kids are great. They are compact and travel size and able to squeeze into small spaces. Their small stature and willingness to please makes them perfect for cat burglary, pick-pocketing and changing the channel when you have misplaced the remote. I love kids. It’s the parents that annoy me.
I had no problem with Ravi. I felt bad for the kid.
I wanted to pull him to the side and tell him.
“Mommy is going to send Ravi to Waldorf School until she decides that Homes Schooling is a better option . Ravi, you should know that there are other toys out there besides rounded edge wooden ones and in the real world Ravi, they will make fun of your page boy haircut and your rainbow stripe sweater. Drummettes are not actual chicken, Turkey tastes much better than Tofurkey and in case you don’t read my blog Ravi…that Soy Chocolate milk your mommy just bought you, is gonna make you gay. So Deonn has a little advice for Ravi. Run away! Ravi, grab your all natural fiber bindle and rainforest stick and set off on your own. You’ll thank me later. “

Isn't Couscous Gayer than Soy?

It was a good week for headlines. While I was quite fond of the “baby eatin pit bull" I must also give a shout out to my other fave.
http://www.wnd.com/news/article.asp?ARTICLE_ID=53327

Soy Makes You Gay.
I have always suspected it.
Hey guys, You know what else makes you gay?
Having sex with men.
…and using the word Duvet.




I love you Paul.
Was it the Soy?

Yvette, The GPS Whore

Yvette is the smug female voice of the GPS system.
I am jealous of Yvette.
She possesses everything that I don’t, A sultry voice, an excellent sense of direction and a monthly finance agreement.

Most importantly if you push her buttons, she won’t burst into tears and ask you if you are calling her fat.

But does Yvette cook dinner, have a 401k or floss twice a day?…okay, neither do I.
Damn you Yvette! I bet you even speak French.

A Dingo Ate My Baby's Toes

Pit Bull Chews Off Four Toes of Baby
http://www.katc.com/global/story.asp?s=5797269
This is a little better than the first inaccurate headline I read
Pit Bull chews off Four Babies Toes.
I am not trying to minimize the suffering of one baby with four toes chewed off. That's gotta suck. But, Could you imagine a pit bull chewing the toes off of four babies, before anyone noticed?! I picture this infant-hungry canine sneaking into the nurseries of all the babies on the block, chewing off their toes and heading for the next house. Now that would be impressive. Disturbing, horrifying and disgusting but impressive.
It wasn't four babies at all.
It was one baby on one tragic night.
This is why you shouldn't hire a dog as your nanny. It didn't work out for the Darling Family in Peter Pan and I think we can all agree it didn't work out for the owners of Cujo and the toeless baby.

By the way, remember the lady who had her face chewed off by her black lab? Yeah, I am still obsessed with this story.
http://discoderbysmackdown.blogspot.com/2006/01/her-dog-ate-her-face.html
and a follow-up
http://discoderbysmackdown.blogspot.com/2006/08/her-dog-ate-her-face-part-2.html
Here is a little update. She is doing remarkably well...(except that she's still French). She has resumed her smoking habit and recently acquired a new dog to go with her new face. Apparently she was only thinking about getting a new pooch when I posted before.
Don't you just love a happy ending? I smell a Lifetime-televisionforwomenandgaymen movie of the week. (Get ready, Valerie Bertinelli)

No word on the guy who got his face gnawed off by a bear...in case you were wondering.

A Coronary Christmas

I have a food hangover. This weekend was a gluttonous/glutenous one, Dinner atPano's Kleftiko, Peso's Brunch, Marius and Marta's Christmas Party, Johnny Walker's Christmas Party, A bacon-laden home cooked breakfast, topped off with a trip to the Japanese Steakhouse.
It was a good weekend
I'm going to have a coronary.
Typing this blog entry is the most physically active thing I have done all day.
I am a sloth....no, being a sloth requires more energy than I have.

Have You Seen Me?

Overheard question at Seattle center outside the Key Arena

"Excuse me, can you tell me where the Space Needle is?"

For those of you unfamiliar with the Seattle Center Lay-out...or Seattle in general, this would be akin to going into a forest and asking where you might find a tree.

I looked over at the guy to see if he was just some smart ass, asking the obvious. How sad and amused I was that he was asking in earnest...(Goes To Camp)

Christmas Survey

YEAH, YEAH ANOTHER SURVEY

What year did you celebrate your first Noel? 1974

Do you still have a stocking? YES, THOUGH IT HAS A HOLE IN IT FROM HANGING TOO CLOSE TO THE FIRE.

Where do you go on Christmas Eve? LAST YEAR I WENT TO A DINNER PARTY AT MY FRIEND GERRY’S HOUSE ON BAINBRIDGE ISLAND.

What do you do on Christmas morning? OPEN PRESENTS AT THE MOMS’ES AT THE DOUBLE WIDE ON GARBAGE DUMP ROAD

What was favorite Christmas gift? LAST YEAR, MY FAVE GIFT WAS A WORLD’S FAIR COLLAGE THAT MARTA MADE.

What was your least favorite Christmas gift. I’M GONNA PLEAD THE FIFTH…OR MAYBE DRINK A FIFTH.

Favorite Christmas beverage? AND SPEAKING OF A FIFTH, I LIKES MY MANHATTANS.

Favorite Christmas Carol OH HOLY NIGHT

Least favorite Christmas Carol GOOD KING WENCESLAS AND JINGLE BELL ROCK.

What does your family usually eat for Christmas Dinner? PRIME RIB

Do you have a Christmas tree in your house? NO

Mulled Cider or Egg Nog THE NOG, MAN.

Fruitcake of Gingerbread? MY ALLERGY TO GINGER SPARES ME FROM BOTH

Miracle on 35th street or It’s A Wonderful Life? MIRACLE ON 35TH STREET.

Have you ever seen the Nutcracker? SADLY, ONLY A DRESS REHEARSAL AT PNB

Have you ever used a Nutcracker? YES, INDEED

Have you ever been a Nutcracker? YOU’LL HAVE TO ASK THE GHOST OF BOYFRIEND’S PAST

Have you ever re-gifted? OF COURSE

What is the tackiest thing you received last year? A SANTA LOVES TEACHERS MUG FILLED WITH GINGER SNAPS.

Do any of your relatives get sloshed at family get togethers? I WAS PROBABLY TOO DRUNK TO NOTICE.

Have you ever been drunk on Christmas? SEE ABOVE

What do you want for Christmas This Year? A RICH HUSBAND or something

Do you enjoy wrapping presents? I DO

How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa? EIGHT. THAT’S WHEN I REALIZED MY MOTHER AND SANTA USED THE SAME WRAPPING PAPER

Favorite Christmas Memory
MY GRANdFATHER USED TO BUILD STUFF. WHEN I WAS FIVE OR SO, I GAVE HIM NAILS FOR CHRISTMAS. WE WRAPPED THEM NICELY IN RED AND WHITE STRIPED PAPER. I THOUGHT THAT WAS THE BEST GIFT EVER. HE PRETENDED TO THINK SO TOO.

Favorite Reindeer NIXON

Do you know anyone whose birthday is on Christmas? (besides Jesus, you smart ass)
MY GRANDFATHER’S BIRTHDAY WAS THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS.

Are their Christmas carols playing where you work?
HOLY CRAP, YES…BUT IT’S A WELCOME BREAK FROM SMOOTH JAZZ

Have you ever worked in retail over the Christmas holidays.
I WORKED AS A GIFT WRAPPER AT THE MAGIC MOUSE TOY STORE WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER. I RECENTLY WORKED IN A GIRLY GIFT SHOP AT U-VILLAGE, UNTIL I BECAME SUICIDAL.

Who is the hardest person to shop for? MY MOTHER

Who is the easiest person to shop for? GINA

Have you finished your Christmas shopping? HELL NO.

Dorky Park

A strange series of events led to my car being trapped at JR's in Bothell for the week. I wasn't sure that I would be able to retrieve it, as the town welcome sign reads
"Bothell, For a Day or a Lifetime"
It was over a week and under a lifetime, but I was able to bust the old Saturn loose and bring her safely back to King County. But first I did what most single 32 year old women do after a fun-filled day of judging a Catholic school speech competition. I attended a twelve year old boy's birthday party.


Max received some fun presents, most noteably his father gave him a big ol' bucket of dorkiness. Instead of a plain old ordinary "12" on the cake. JR did the obligitory Math Geek Binary Number Cake.




Happy Birthday Max, don't let your next social gathering become "Magic...the gathering"






I offered to hack up the cake since JR has this irritationg habit of ending up in the emergency room when sharp objects are in his general vicinity.

Goodnight, Joe Glass.

Joe Glass died today. It was unexpected in the way that death usually is. Even when prepared for the inevitable there is a part of you that questions whether it is really going to happen. Joe lived a full, long and happy life and will be missed by all whose lives he touched. I feel lucky to have known him.