I had a very bold idea of attempting to recap the highlights of this year in an entry, but my head exploded.

Instead, I will merely thank all of you for being a part of this little piece of WebWorld of mine. I have met some great NetFolk this year, and for that I am thankful. In return, at the very least, I hope it has been entertaining.

I wouldn’t be lying if I didn’t say I am REALLY glad December 2005 is now over. And I also wouldn’t be lying if I didn’t say there was A LOT to come in 2006. But for those details (and MAN are there DETAILS), you’ll have to come back and keep reading! ;)

Here’s to a happy, healthy and successful 2006 full of laughter, adventure and great surprises. I wish you all of this and more!

Cheers,

Pammer

Okay, so I made it to my hair appointment, but not the whole shopping extravaganza. At least not yesterday. I DID today, though. And then I needed a nap.

I arrived at Nordstrom’s at 9:57am – and got a front parking space. Love that. It really wasn’t all that crowded, which is great because I didn’t have the energy or patience for a crowd today.

I was toting Husband’s latest acquisition – a neutral, houndstooth sportcoat in the hopes that the guy in the Men’s Department that helped me last time could put a couple of shirt / tie combos together for this coat. I’m really good at women’s and children’s clothes, but men’s? Completely worthless. I am completely at the mercy of a salesperson’s recommendations that I can then say “Yay” or “Nay” to.

I immediately found out that the salesdude I was looking for had up and moved to San Diego and was no longer there. Shit. And so, the nice salesdudette, Shelly, was going to be my guide into windowpanes and silk today. Welcome to my world, Shelly. Strap in.

I gave her a few stipulations:

1. Husband’s got great coloring and salt and pepper hair. Don’t wash him out.

2. Each shirt must be able to be worn with a suit and / or sportcoat and by itself with slacks.

3. Each shirt / tie must be able to be worn with AT LEAST two ensembles.

4. I’d like to take advantage of the current sale if at all possible, but am open to a few full priced items sneaking in if it works across multiple combinations.

And? She was awesome. This lady LOVES to put ensembles together. We laid out his sportcoat and grabbed a black and charcoal suit from the racks (so we could see how it all works together) to play with – kinda like paperdolls, but now with penises.

We found five shirts and five ties and basically Husband came out with 15 ensembles to work with and one was better than the next. Shelly, if you’re reading this, you’re my new hero.

I had to run to meet MILtastic for lunch upstairs and asked Shelly to hold all these things and I would come back and finalize everything then. No problem! We’re Nordstrom’s! Customer service is our thing! We’ll put your name on the pile and it will be ready for you when you come back! Outstanding.

One of the ensembles included a white shirt that had an orange windowpane check pattern and a slammin’ orange, white and navy-black geometric design. It was awesome. It was versatile. It was updated and crisp. And Husband could totally pull it off.

And when I got back to finalize everything (with MILtastic in tow to see the fabulousness that was Husband’s new wardrobe)… the slammin’ tie was gone.

WHAT?!

Who reaches into a wrapped and pinned pile of someone else’s clothes and takes a tie?! I realize Shelly put together much gorgeousness, but ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, PEOPLE?! Get your own Shelly! GET YOUR OWN TIE.

We searched everywhere. There were two of them and surely we could come up with the other one, right?

Nope.

But Shelly felt confident she could come up with the tie – just give her a day or two. So, I bought the shirt (which was cool on its own anyway) and am sending good retail vibes to my new friend Shelly in the hopes that the missing tie can be recovered.

And I am sending bad, hateful, hexing vibes to the asshole who couldn’t keep his or her grubby hands out of my pile. It’s the holiday season. Don’t be a dickhead.

I’ve written before about my high-maintenance hair. Well, I’ve been growing it out the past several months which? Only makes it more difficult. So tomorrow I’m going to get it blow-dried because I just don’t have the energy to mess with it.

I know. Way too high maintenance. Shut up.

But tomorrow, I am going to have to go to a very large mall because there is a very large sale underway. And I have to be there. For Husband. And I’m gonna need some good hair for this outing. Kinda like hair karma.

It’s either that or a drink. And I’m not a fan of drunk shopping. Bad things happen that way. Things you don’t need and should never own come home with you. Like hats. Or capelets. Or gauchos.

Wish me luck. And deep conditioning.

A few highlights from last night…

My study smells of strawberry right now. Why? You ask? Well, thanks to some wonderful family members, my house is now All Strawberry Shortcake, All the Time.

Except, of course, when it’s All PONIES, All the Time. The Ponies went with us everywhere today – in the car, the grocery store, to lunch. Everywhere.

But that’s okay, The Swimmy is totally enthralled with her newest toys and it’s great to watch. She has these very detailed, long conversations with them and makes up great stories. More entertaining than most network shows.

Husband only had to go to back to the store once today. For batteries. Natch. Because the Doodle Pad Pro gots no glow without de battrees, booiiiiii.

And I? Got a wonderful gift from Husband this morning. It is small and sparkly and perfect and he is the best. Ever.

This present extravaganza continues all week, but culminates at my folks house where the gift truck will back up on us and crush us all. So Part II? Will come later this week.

Whew.

The Swimmy is having a little trouble understanding all the different holidays she keeps hearing about these days… some people celebrate Christmas, some Kwanzaa, and we celebrate Hanukah. We’re doing the best we can, but there is one thing she’s taken to heart, and that’s that there are many kids in the world who aren’t as lucky as she is to have such a wonderful family, home and things.

We have a nightly tucking in routine that we both enjoy. She crawls into bed, we talk a little bit about the day, and we say a simple little prayer that she can understand, “G-d Bless Swimmy, and all of our friends and family, and keep them safe and happy and healthy. Amen.” After that I ask her if she has any “Special Blessings” and she sometimes gives a special blessing to a little sick friend at school, a favorite family member, or, on occasion, a special cartoon character or toy.

Tonight, we again talked about how tomorrow is Hanukah and how wonderful it will be to be with friends and family and get presents, but we should remember all the children who don’t have that opportunity. She immediately said she wanted to pick out some toys of her own to give to the children so they wouldn’t be sad. Which? Made my heart explode.

And then! She was so taken by the spirit of giving, that she said she would give away our dog, The Pfluftagus so that our silly dog could make some kids feel better. She didn’t even think twice about how sad she might feel or how much she might miss the dog. I told her that we could most definitely pick out some toys to give away, but we would keep the dog because she is part of our family.

It wasn’t until then that a gazillion conflicting emotions filled her newly teary eyes. You could just see the mask of “Oh, no! I want to help the poor kids, but I don’t WANT to give away my PUPPY!” And? What was left of my heart melted.

I assured her it was fine, we wouldn’t give The Pfluftagus away, and not to worry, we would help the kids in a different way.

I was so struck at how selfless she was… All she wanted to do was make the kids’ lives better. She gave freely, with glee! And I hope she always does.

Here’s to all the folks who deserve some special blessings tonight:

* My dear friend who lost her grandmother. And her terrific mom who lost her mother.

* An incredible man who is manning the trauma center at a local hospital on Christmas Eve.

* MILtastic and JackTabulous who are on their way home from a whirlwind adventure. May they travel safely.

* My wonderful parents. If only there were words bigger than Thank You and I Love You.

* My amazing Husband…”somewhere in my childhood, I must have done something good.”

G-d Bless you, and all of our friends and family, and keep them safe and happy and healthy. Amen.

Okay! I can relax now! BARBIE AND THE MAGICAL PEGASUS has arrived in time for Hanukah. Whew.

I guess the contaminating of Swimmy minds can now begin for real. Man I hope I don’t regret this. I need to find something to counteract The Blonde One.

I know! I’ll make her watch Kathryn Hepburn and Lauren Bacall movies all day…

I went to drop The Swimmy off at school this morning and realized, after I was halfway there, that I had forgotten my cell phone.

And I panicked. Really.

Now, The Swimmy’s school is all of 7 minutes from our house. It’s not as if the route we travel is uninhabited or unsafe. In fact, in order to get there, I have to drive past my parents’ house. But, suddenly realizing that IF (G-d forbid) something WERE to happen, I wouldn’t have any way to call anyone… freaked me out.

But then? I remembered the story my mom told me about when she was pregnant with me. Dad was at the Astrodome at a baseball game and she, well, needed to go to the hospital! There was no way to get a hold of him because there were no cell phones back then so she had him paged over the loudspeaker at the Dome.

Now, I ask you. If my mom can handle that, WHY would I panic over not having my cell phone on a 7 minute drive?

Because I’m a woos who loves her technology and electronic safety net, that’s why.

Technology is great. I love it and am the first to admit I am a complete TechWhore.

However.

When I have to hear a woman yelling at her husband over his Nextel walkie-talkie phone in the middle of Target while their toddler daughter stands idly by — that’s where technology has gone bad.

Dude — Take it off the walkie talkie speaker!

Lady — Be thankful your husband is out with the nutsoes doing YOUR errands.

Kid — So sorry. You can’t pick your parents. Here’s $5 for your future therapy fund.

Jeez.

Hi. Notice the lack of posts lately? Yeah, me, too. My blog is being held hostage by my life. There is so much happening that I would love to write about, but? I can’t.

So. Much. It. Sucks.

(Not my life. The whole no-writing thing.)

But, soon? Lots to say I hope.

In the meantime, it’s six days of shopping left and I am still short some presents. I am desperately trying to complete my list without having to venture into the “busy” part of the city. I don’t have the energy or patience for that. I think I can pull it off.

In other non-stimulating reading news, my dog has another week before she gets her haircut and a bath. And that’s a week too long, my friends. Whew.

As I seem to be running thin on things to write about these days, I’ll pass the floor to you guys, groovy Internets! I am now taking requests – or questions! I promise to do my best to be intelligent, funny, sharp and pretty. Or some combination that may or may not resemble that. You can comment or use the cute email link on the top-left.

So! What would you like to know?

We have a long-standing tradition in my family around this time of year. It’s appropriately called “The Great Hanukah Psych-Out” and it goes a little something like this (hit it):

About two weeks before Hanukah begins, wrapped presents start to appear on the hearth of the fireplace. Each day, more and more get added as everyone finishes their clandestine shopping and wrapping. And each day, the curiosity grows and grows. I remember catching my father shaking a particularly odd-shaped box with a furrowed brow trying desperately to figure out What the hell IS this?

None of this cute, cuddly Santa crap for us. No thoughts of some mysterious person bringing gifts for everyone that we excitedly wait to magically appear one day. No, way. The presents lovingly come from your family and your family is all about… hazing. Naughty? Nice? Whatever. Game on.

The holiday spirit in our home? Is all about side deals, negotiations and bribes. If you tell me what’s in Box A, I’ll tell you what’s in Box B. You get the drift.

It. Is. Sheer. Brilliance.

When Husband and I first got married, I brought this tradition with me. We sneakily shopped and wrapped the gifts for OldestDaughter and ArtsyDaughter. We laid them out ahead of time. We tortured the hell out of them.

It was great.

It was great until we figured out that OldestDaughter couldn’t take the suspense and proceeded to unwrap every single present, look at it, then re-wrap it. Including her sister’s. She actually unwrapped one, wore it out with friends, THEN re-wrapped it.

It was then I realized that this tradition’s fun and success depended solely on the participants involved. And so, it died for many years… because quite frankly I didn’t have the time or funds for high-stakes technology to guard the gifts from contamination 24/7.

However! This year! It returns! You see, OldestDaughter and ArtsyDaughter are out of the house… And The Swimmy is 4 ½ years old and old enough to begin participating and learning the joy (and hate!) of The Great Hanukah Psych Out.

So far, so good. But she’s got a lot of her mom in her – so I’m gonna keep my eye on this one.