THANKSGIVING - THAT'S A WRAP

 Thanksgiving was successful.

Nothing started on fire, nothing burned, no one was injured, no food landed on the floor, and everyone behaved at the table . . . even me, for a change.

I didn't cook this year, for the first time in a long time. I did some baking - blueberry corn muffins and some pumpkin butter - but, for the most part, I kept my hands off the cooking (which explains the incredible success). 

It was a little weird not performing the Mad Dance of the Side Dishes. Everything had been prepped and ready, so the most I had to do was measure the extreme height of the mashed potatoes as they overflowed the big bowl. Looking back on it now, I probably should've stolen more leftover mashed potatoes. Drat.

I lost spectacularly at Cribbage several times, and I think I was skunked at least twice. I mostly lost at Rummy. I picked the wrong dog during the National Dog Show. (Honestly, who would've thought the Tommy Chong of bulldogs would win its class after it practically fell off the podium and then wobbled sideways when it tried to walk?!)

I am almost ready to start the next season. Hanukkah is in transit, and I bought a small, pre-lit tree to replace the old one that needed to have lights strung on it. I still need at least one purple Advent candle and some candles for the windows, but, other than that, I think I'm in decent shape.

I thank the turkey. Without a perfect turkey (and lots of potatoes), I doubt I would be ready at all. Hence why I didn't cook this year. Thank you to my hosts. Next time, though, a little mercy at the Cribbage board might be nice, too. 

I'm just saying.

CRANBERRY SAUCE AND AMERICAN SOCIALISM - IT'S REAL

 I am getting tired of all these shortages. For chrissakes, we are supposed to be the least third-world of the modern countries, and yet it's like socialism just swooped right in and stole all of our toilet paper. And cars. And gifts. And food. And employees.

The car dealers have zero inventory, yet they keep lists of incoming vehicles (all ten or less of them) and post the list in the dealer windows with the words "SOLD" and the overprices that people are paying for vehicles they have not even seen.  

I was in the grocery store recently and turned down the paper goods aisle. There was zero toilet paper. Zero. Again, people? Apparently, the news must be causing all-y'all to have massive cases of diarrhea. How, honestly, just how can we be out of toilet paper again? What are your damages, anyway?

My sister texted me a week or so ago because she heard rumor that people could not locate any cans of jellied cranberry sauce. In the state where she lives, people were going nuts trying to locate the stuff, according to the media. I went down the street to a chain grocery, the same chain she buys from, and found hundreds of cans. I felt like buying it all so I could understand what these damn toilet paper hoarders feel like when they score a stash. Instead, I bought four cans.

Look, people. Get back to work. Get. Back. To. Work. 

Get to the docks and unload the ships. Get to the warehouses and move the merchandise. Get to the stores and stock the shelves. Fuuuuuuuuudge the vaccine. It doesn't work, anyway. People are still getting sick. Brandon himself has said Covid isn't going away, and we all know that when Brandon speaks, as when The Big Orange Blob spoke, it's the freaking voice of God. (I despise all politicians, by the way.)

Thank goodness I got the jellied cranberry sauce, but I still need TP for my bunghole and a vehicle to get to my job.  My job. That's right, because I have yet to miss a goddamned day of work for this virus, so get your own sad-asses back out there.

Now, watch me die of Covid before the next blog. I hate karma, but at least it can be served up with a good-sized portion of jellied cranberry sauce.

THIS VACCINE IS A FREAKING SCREAM

 Got my booster.

That was the easy part. The hard part was that I forgot kids are also getting the shot. I was in line with screaming children. Screaming. SCREAMING. In CVS.  Screaming bloody frikkin murder BEFORE they got the vaccine.

I am not certain that children under the age of 12 should be receiving the vaccine in public. It was horrifying. Bloodcurdlingly horrifying. 

And the parents. Holy crap, the parents. I am surprised the poor tech giving the shots hadn't stabbed himself in his own eyeballs by the time I left the pharmacy. One mom actually told her kid, "Oh, don't worry, sweetie. You don't have to do this today. We can come back another time..." 

What? What the ... WHAT?!?!

By all means, traumatize the kid further by making the kid have anxiety for another week or two. For chrissakes, roll up the kid's sleeve and say, "Shut up and stop this idiocy. You're embarrassing yourself and disturbing EVERYONE in the store. You think they all want to listen to YOU?"

I may be the meanest person in the world, but if your kid is going to screech like you're carving off a limb without medication over the painless Covid shot, by all means, take your kid to the PEDIATRICIAN.

Understand this: I am NOT blaming the kids. I screamed bloody murder at a very young age over the (live vaccine) measles shot until the doc told me he had already given it to me. Of course, then I got the measles and almost died, but that's another trust issue entirely. 

I just don't think it's sane to have everyone in the store, not to mention everyone in the vaccine line with people of any age, listen to anyone, especially a child, basically being terrorized by a stranger with a needle out in public.

By the way, I talked to the little girl in line behind me. That screaming child in front of us scared the living shit out of that poor girl, so I talked her through it and made sure she heard me when it was my turn. "Is that it? All done? I didn't even feel it." I even managed to convince the screamer to get back in line by making sure she heard me, too, and she only screamed a little at the second try -- but, by God, she got the damn shot.

After, while we compared bandaids, I did have one complaint. All the kids got stickers and lollipops. I didn't get any candy. When it was my time to leave after the fifteen-minute waiting period, I said goodbye to my new not-screaming friends. As I turned the corner, one of the girls said, "And SHE didn't even get a LOLLIPOP!"

I guess I should've screamed. Oh, well. Next time. I'm sure there will probably be another booster, right?

RANDOM THOUGHTS WHILE BEING HELD CAPTIVE IN MEETINGS

 A day of professional development meetings often leads to a wasted day of boredom. When the bosses show up in one of the sessions we are watching via Zoom, it means no fun, no work, and no laptops. Here are some excerpts from my random, handwritten musings.

• I am so bored.
• I am trained in every trick that has come down the pike since "I'm Okay, You're Okay"  (1967, by the way)
• I've had dental surgery that was less painful than this.
• (presenter starts coughing) Oh, you're choking . . . literally and figuratively.
• Please, dear God, make it stop. Make. It. Stop.
• I can feel my brain bleeding.
• My skull is floating around trying to escape from this presentation.
• I will continue to write until one of us passes out - My money is on the presenter.
• Please stop telling us what a great coach you are. If you have to say it, then you're not.
• Are you a Kennedy? Every other word is er, uhhh, huh, ummmm...
• For chrissakes, they're "students" not "kids". I don't teach goats.
• Another forty minutes? I'm totally going to DIE right here at this desk.
• She said "tool" and "unit" in the same sentence. 
• Send help.
• Send reinforcements.
• Send food.
• Send alcohol.
• Send chocolate.
• I cannot even imagine being a student in this woman's class.
• Duct tape. She needs duct tape. Across her mouth.
• I can't make it. I can't. I'm gonna lose it.
• Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz. My friends are all free from this Hell that never ends.
• Feeling 7-Up, I'm feeling 7-Up.
• The lights are growing dim, Otto.
• Please. Send. Help.