Where have I been?

After posting about the blizzard and the holiday concert, I realized there's a month-long lapse in posts starting before Turkey day. So since I’m stuck at my desk at work while everyone else is living large on vacation, I thought I’d hit some of the Pineda family highlights from Thanksgiving onward. Happy Tuesday!

Stuff it!

This year we congregated at Chez Val et Juan (that's "Juan and Val's house" for you mono-linguists) for this year’s Turkey day gluttony. The excitement started early when Val decided to add a slice of her finger to the candied yams. Yum! And since timing is everything, wouldn’t you know, just as Trish and Val ran out the front door on their way to the Medemerg for some stitches, mom and dad (the brown ones) conveniently pulled into the drive way. After waving the parents back, the ladies raced off, leaving Juan and I to finish up the cooking. Thankfully, we only had some reheating and basting left to do.

As per the normal Pineda Thanksgiving ritual, the day revolved around gorging, sleeping and crapping. Come to think of it, just about any gathering of two or more Pinedas seems to follow the same basic pattern. At least we’re consistent. This gathering was small by Pineda standards, with Val’s Aunt Mary and Uncle Doug and Trish’s friend, Billy, joining the family for dinner. Note to self (and everyone else), ixnay on the universalsay ealthcarehay in front of Uncle Doug. Just trust me on that one.

Sadly, our attempt at Black Friday shopping fizzled. In our efforts to top last year’s miserable shopping failure, we set our alarm clocks for 3 am. But somehow we couldn’t drag our fat, tired asses out of bed. Instead, we slept in and hit the stores at around noon. We lasted all of an hour before giving up on the lines and nasty shoppers. Why does bargain shopping turn people into total biyatches?! Instead, we opted to get all Martha Stewart on the holiday and hit Michael’s for some crafting supplies. I then spent the rest of the evening creating the gayest Christmas wreath ever, complete with red lily’s and feather butterflies. Yes, feather butterflies. Don’t judge.

Here we come a-wassailing…

As some of you know, I’ve been caroling with my good friend Donald Birely’s company for years. Unfortunately, with the economy in the toilet people haven’t been willing to pry open their wallets to pay for some holiday cheer. With only a couple gigs for me this year, the old top hat and tails didn’t see much action. I did manage to snag a couple of sweet swag bags from one gig. Don’t worry Donald, I didn’t steal them, they were offered to me.

While we’re on the caroling topic, I just want to know why people insist on talking to us while we're singing. Do they expect us to stop mid-Fa-la-la to reply? Are they testing our caroling commitment and waiting to report us to the caroling police? Please help me understand. And since I’m already in rant mode - do people forget that we’re human beings, not Disney animatronics? No, we cannot sing non-stop for three hours outside in 20-degree weather because you like “the look” of us standing in that 2-foot snow drift in front of your store window!

Sorry, I just finally needed to get those complaints off my chest and in writing. My fellow carolers have been bitching for years now about the same things every year and nothing ever seems to change. Okay, I’m better now. The valium has taken effect.

The Christmas Tree Shoppes…

Well, this is my new favorite store. Why? Where else can you buy flashing snowflakes, toilet seat decals and travel-sized shaving cream all in one store! And what do shaving cream and toilet seat decals have to do with Christmas? Absolutely nothing! That’s why I love this place. Go visit, you won’t regret it. But I have to say "word up" to the Paramus store. You kick the Springfield store's ass.

Well, I think that just about hits the high points. I’m sure there will be more family hijinks and bitter feelings to report soon, so check back often! Happy Kwanzachristmanukah!