Rapier's Wit

Happy holidays! 🍷 Merry Christmas! 🎄🎅 Merry Chrstms 🍷🍷🍷 Mefry Chrimas 🍷🍷🍷 Merf chrissssssssss 🍸🍸 mmmmerrrrrrrr 🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸 heh 😴

Mancub has never written an endless list of wants for Christmas or birthdays. He'll name a couple very specific items and be done. That was always a source of mild frustration when family members wanted to know what to buy him. I'd always buy the two or three items listed which left nada for the kinfolk to purchase. Gift cards aren't fun to unwrap, but manage to do the trick. This year was more difficult because my 19 year old, regardless of how many times I asked, didn't give me a list. He couldn't even muster a simple suggestion. Egads! Time was dwindling to shop aka order things online. I should tell you right now that while I do enjoy new footwear, clothes, this n' thats, shopping is not my favorite thing. Going to the grocery store is painful. Maybe it is sensory overload. Perhaps there's too much threat of running into people that'll hinder the task at hand. Whatever it is, shopping until I drop only takes a few minutes. OK, back to Chr...

2013 has flown by at lightning speed, it seems. Someone once said that as we age the years tend to do that. Is it because we have little to look forward to or that we are just so much enjoying watching our children grow that we want to savor every second? My money is on the latter. We learn to relish the moments instead of always looking for something better and shiny. OK, mayhaps I cannot speak for you. As for me, I revel in the moment. Most of the time. Well, in retrospect. This year has zipped by, damn it. I don't like it! But here we are... Christmas is just two days away. One day if you're one of those people who doesn't count the day we are in. Changes at work, Mancub being in college... I've been busy and time got away from me. So, there is no card of any sort being sent out. On Facebook, I promised a blog post Christmas card. Even that nearly got away from me.  Today, I'm off from work. Because the month managed to be shorter, somehow, gifts for ...

Mom at a Barbershop Choir convention My mother is no longer walking amongst in the land of the living.  At age 51, June, 1981 she left us after a battle with cancer. I miss her just as much today as I did then. Probably even more since the anger has departed and now all I have are precious memories of the woman who birthed 8 children and longed for more. However, my birth wasn't the easiest and she made me her caboose.  It's best described as ending with perfection. Smile. Today I wanted to share with you a story of eggnog.  Many people don't care for its texture or flavor. As for me, gimme, gimme, gimme! Let's not trouble ourselves the high fat and calorie content as you walk with me on the path of joyful memories. Please to enjoy, Mama's Christmas Eggnog Ever since I can remember I have loved eggnog. While passing Fannie May Candies I eyed a sign in the window advertising their new item: Cheesecake. Like Homer Simpson spying a donut I muttered, "mmmm...

This card inspired an idea that has always been stumbling around in the back of my mind each year holiday gift giving season rolls around.  I'm a grown up with a big girl job.  If there is something I want, I buy it.  For several years I have not participated in the gift exchange at work. This act has led people to call me a Grinch.  My actions, or lack there of, have nothing to do with my lack of Christmas spirit.  My heart is full of giving and light all year long but especially during this time of  year.  Rather than buying friends and family items that will likely end up on a shelf collecting dust or re-gifted at their work white elephant exchange, my money goes toward donations to less fortunate people.  In years past, I have been a recipient of such gifts that made giving my son a Christmas possible.  Out of the blue I was showered with generosity.  Pay it forward. When this card was posted on my Facebook wall along with the ...

It's Sunday.  Oh how I love this day of rest ... wait a minute! I don't get to rest today. The work schedule demands that I be there. The after glow of Christmas day remains.  It was filled with surprises for Mancub and me.  Christmas eventually proves to be a special time of year once you cut through the layers of impatient shoppers, shifting of funds and frustration of not being able to find the perfect gift for someone on your list.  Mancub wanted me to make it clear that he didn't completely say the word crap in his excitement over the Wii. " I stopped myself mom. " To him, it's a swear word even though it's commonly thrown around (even by yours truly). He didn't want it on record that he sounds like a degenerate. As if! The warm embrace of the words written in the book I received for Christmas continues to envelope me like a warm bubble bath ... .... I hope it can keep me warm as I step into the 16° temps to make my way to work today.

So, those are not the most eloquent words ever exclaimed on Christmas morning, but it was a sentiment of true surprise. My son had no idea what he was getting today. He's fully aware of the challenges I meet each month financially. He's never been a gimme gimme kid. He's joyful no matter the gift. I gave him games to go with the Wii before he unwrapped the console. I feigned surprise that I grabbed the wrong game system versions." Oh, poo! Well, you can exchange them for PS2." His reply was not surprising, "Well, my cousins have Wii systems. Maybe they'd like them as gifts." It was then when I got up and reached behind the couch to reveal yet another gift. He noticed how heavy it was when I sat it on his lap. He screwed up his face in wonder. Here's the result: Additionally, Mancub is the proud owner of a Trek bike. Santa has some amazing elves, let me tell you. I prefer to call them Heaven's angels on Earth. This spring I hope to...

Merry Christmas.  Go grab a cup of cheer, sit back and listen to me babble on video. As usual, I had nothing planned beyond my bedazzled attire.  May this not bring you nightmares of gorged sugar plum zombies.  I'll try to be funnier next year.

Both of my parents instilled in me the belief in miracles and angels.  My mother was more likely to tell me a story about a harrowing event in her life where her guardian angel protected her from harm. My father, on the other hand, was more philosophical in his telling of incidents that solidified his belief in a higher being.  Our family was loosely Catholic. Read: Lots of the guilt inducing practices and none of the church-going, sacramental requirements.  Regardless of the methods and theories taught, we were a spiritual clan with the ability to find reason and cause to why we were fortunate in the face of often dismal times. I recall as a little girl my mother telling me to always listen to the little voices in my head because that was my guardian angel giving me direction. "She knows better than you do. So don't ignore her."  In my child-like mind's eye, angels have always been filmy, beautiful, ethereal beings with wings and halos.  That is, after all, ...

A couple of weeks ago the temperatures here took a swift dip into the danger zone. Like it is often, the wind chill factor was the real culprit.  Gusts up to 50 mph hour were predicted. Business at the work place was dreadfully slow.  So slow that my presence was not required.  Suddenly I had a free day and the baking bug bit me.  Beyond boxed brownies and a bi-yearly batch of Toll House Cookies, this girl doesn't bake.  My kitchen is lucky if it ever sees a spatter of olive oil. I cook out of necessity. But holiday baking? Get out of the city! I bundled myself up and head out into the blustery, frigid day.  My intention was to buy the pre-fab sugar cookie dough in the tube, but as I made my way through the store I had collected ingredients to bake from scratch.  I felt my head for fever. Then, I thought perhaps all of this was a dream and I'd awaken in my warm cozy bed.  Upon departing the store it was obvious that I was wide awake because the ...

Fun Slides Carpet Skates : Make sure your insurance is paid up and get your stories straight before taking the kids to the emergency room. I'm sure my brother would just love if I sent his 3 boys each a pair of these to use in the same room the HDTV is housed. HD Vision Night Wraparounds This item is perfect for the guy who buys the sports car when he's in denial of his mid-life crisis. All the young babes will be salivating when he walks through the doors of the club wearing these over his no-line bifocal specs. Nothing says "I'll be your sugar daddy" like these urine colored lenses. Lens Doctor DO NOT USE THIS CRAP! I cannot stress this enough. You might as well throw the $14.95 it costs directly into a shredder. Your lenses will be ruined and then you'll come to me at my place of business frustrated that I can't remove the dried goop on the lenses that causes you severely blurred vision. S'Mores Maker Really? Are you that much of a d...

Last year I didn't even bother putting up a Christmas tree.  The year prior, kitties decided that knocking ornaments off and destroying them was a far better idea than just admiring them as they dangled from the twinkling branches.  With twenty more days before the mythical fat-man descends from his toy shop in the frozen tundra of the North Pole, I figured my weekend off could be spent trying to turn our domicile into a place of festive lights and adornment.  The tree will likely be left out another year.  Our cats may be older, but they are still creatures of nature with an inclination to climb and toy with anything that wiggles. So, with Mancub's small collection of nutcrackers displayed, I think we can make a go of putting forth the image that the Christmas spirit is alive and well at Casa Marissa. I'll string lights where the cats can't bother them, as well as, garland around the tops of the windows.  Majestic? Not hardly. I know for certain that my on...

I get geeked out on some unexpected things.  Some people get razzle dazzled over new tech devices. Others do a dance of joy over the crossword in the New York Times.  I, on the other hand, get a badoozled and dillywomped over eggnog.  Eggnoggity goodness of any variety: Ice cream, cheesecake, McDonald's Shakes.  That's what brought all of this on today.  I stopped by McDonald's to get Mancub a burger (icky, I know) and a chocolate shake.  It's a big dealio for me to get him this. So, don't call the Department of Children and Family Services on me just yet.  When I saw the words "EGG NOG SHAKES NOW AVAILABLE" I nearly piddled on my heated leather seats.  I practiced restraint and only got a small. mmmmm noggy.  I was full from my late lunch (3:30 PM) and had no desire to eat anything at 5:00 PM, but good giggly goo! I could easily sip the frosty beverage.  I was wet from the pouring rain and chilled to the bone, but with the heat cranked ...

I've probably given the impression that I'm not a shop-a-holic. Finding styles that I like in my size isn't limited to bras. I'm tall and have plenty of junk in my trunk.  That combo makes finding really stylish clothing a hassle. But my dislike of shopping isn't limited to personal fashions.  What's involved in shopping is a lot of math. Meaning I deliberate thusly: I worked X number of hours to earn the money item Q costs. No item is alluring to me unless a deep discount is attached to it.  If I'm not going to get tons of use out of the item I usually pass it by.  Grocery shopping makes me break out in hives... Thank you ALDI for making this experience less itchy and scratchy. I'm big fan of shopping online. Quite often I can find items far less expensive than what's available in stores. I watch for FREE SHIPPING and easy returns.  A rush overcomes me when I get to the check out and it ask "do you have a coupon" -- and I DO!! But when ...

I am a Christian. If wishing you a Merry Christmas is somehow offensive, with all due respect, tough sugar cookies with sprinkles and icing. This holiday where we celebrate the birth of my Lord and Saviour brings me great joy and sensations of hope. I won't let political correctness stand in my way. This morning I awoke with a memory on my brain that I hadn't thought of in decades. I think what spurned this thought was seeing the DVD of "A Miracle on 34th Street" starring Natalie Wood. It's a lovely movie that epitomizes the idea that faith in an ideal is all we need to believe. At least that's what I walk away with after watching it. It doesn't matter how many times I watch the film, I still get chills and joyfully weepy when they prove in the courtroom that Santa is real ... based on the faith and hope. In the movie a new Santa is needed for the parade. This is where my memory fits in to this post. When I was in 8th or 9th grade, my classmates and I were...

My family is so vast that it's really difficult to pull us all together at one time. So, the holidays are usually comprised of a few. In our family, few is a relative term, mind you. With 10 kids (spouses or significant others), grandchildren (I lost count) a solid 20 means a few. Typically though, it's those of us who live within reasonable driving distance to Grandma's casa. The attendees aren't a guaranteed bunch, but food a'plenty and merriment is certain. I was terribly concerned that the ice storm that hit us on December 18 would deter travelers. Negatory! The Illinois and Indiana dwellers made it safely to Plainfield on December 20. My (step) mom is the hostess with the mostest. It's always a relaxing, easy going time when we break bread there. Something very calming exists when I walk through her front door. I guess it's home. We all exchanged gifts -- letting the little ones have their run first. My nephew G is a toddler and he was so excited for ...

I know I've said this before, and it's likely I will discuss it again; there's more to the Internet than porn and shopping. My life has been enriched thanks to this world wide web. That's not to say I haven't met my share of stinkers. After all, I don't hide the clunker dates I've had thanks to online dating sites. I haven't done that in a while. I think I'm due, but enough about that for now. I am addicted, so to speak, to a social networking site called Plurk. I suspect it's like Twitter, but I don't use that site. I can only have one fixation at a time and Plurk is my flavor for now. I shouldn't say "for now" as if it's just a flight of fancy. I'm sticking with it as long as they'll have me. Today is Tuesday. Tuesday is all about kindness. Many of the people I have friended on Plurk write about kindness on their blogs. Sometimes it flows easily. Other times they admit it was a struggle. We're all human. Go fig...

Everyone has a theory or tale about Santa Claus. He is most often thought of as the Coca-Cola creation. It doesn't matter where you're from. You all have had your variation on the fat man in red. There's never been a question that the jolly old fella is generous and resourceful. I, on the other hand, had the honour of living with Santa Claus. Oh, I had no idea at the time. I never spied the red velvet suit. Nor did I get a tickle by the mass of snowy white beard. I never had reindeer doody duty, either. The following story was written by my father. He submitted his theory on Santa Claus to our local newspaper, The Kankakee Daily Journal. I'm unable to give you the exact date (Maureen would know.) I can recall him sitting at our family dining table lamenting over the proper way to honour his perception of Jolly Old St. Nick. His glasses perched on his nose; looking over the top of them as I tromped about disturbing his train of thought. He'd say very little, b...

I have learned that fraternizing with co-workers means playing with fire. I don't know how it is in other places of employment, but in my particular setting, there is pettiness and loads of tit for tat mentality. Bonding friendships can be hazardous to one's career and peace of mind. Due to my supervisory position, I am particularly susceptible to having my words and actions contorted. I am not a manager, but associates are still considered subordinates. I have to watch my back. Admittedly, I have slipped and shared more about my personal life than I ought to. Doing so leaves me open and vulnerable. Color me human, I suppose. I haven't gone out drinking or partying with co-workers for the very reasons mentioned above. Proof of such ignorance sits in my personnel file. Dropping the f-bomb frequently when angered and sharing details of sexual liaisons while off the clock; yet with a subordinate proved to be both foolish and detrimental to my mental well-being. For that, I am...

November 24 marked the 1 Year Anniversary of WILDHAIR . I honestly didn't realize the exact date I first embarked on this blog. Prior to blogging on blogspo t, I had been writing and posting on Myspace. My hope by writing on blogspot was to gain a greater readership by broadening the spectrum. With over 12,000 hits, I suppose that wish came true. Although, the appeal of my writing hasn't caught on like wildfire. I admit I am not a writer, but I do relish putting my thoughts and perspective out there for others to peruse. While looking back at my posts for some inspiration, I read a memory that was amongst the first posted on WILDHAIR . It fits in with an earlier query about the traditions we honor each holiday season. Many of our family traditions unfortunately died when my mother passed away. It's sad, but our emotions and minds had become as scattered as the locales of my siblings. New people were brought into the fold and new traditions began. It is, by no means, a jab a...