Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I find that it is frequently overshadowed by Halloween and Christmas. Well, Christmas mostly. I believe in celebrating holidays as they come, not having one overtake another. It’s November, people. That means Thanksgiving not Christmas. As such, I have rules that I live by that allow me to give Thanksgiving the support it deserves.

Rule #1: No Christmas music should be played before Thanksgiving has passed. One of our local radio stations started playing Christmas music in November last year and I begrudgingly tolerated it. But I’m not going to take it any more! Anarchy! I’ve started listening to another station and use iTunes while in my office.

Rule #2: No acknowledgment or mention of Santa Claus before Thanksgiving. I was beyond dumbfounded when my sister sent me a picture of her girls with Santa earlier this month. While I realize that there is no imaginary Thanksgiving representative lingering in a little village at the mall, it seems too soon. Maybe it’s a thing that parents do that I just don’t understand.

Rule #3: No Christmas trees before Thanksgiving. Seriously, people. This is jumping the gun. Our neighbor actually has pumpkin decorations on her porch and a lit Christmas tree in her main window. Vomit.

I know, it seems like I’m acting like a little Scrooge. I’m really not. I think Christmas can be an over-commercialized a lovely holiday. I’d just like for Thanksgiving to have its moment. Don’t you agree?

Scenario: A tree branch falls on top of you and it’s too heavy to move. What do you do?

that girl: I would try to move the branch.
the hubby: But you can’t. It’s too heavy. You should probably cut your leg off.
that girl: Why would I cut my leg off?! That’s ridiculous. How could I even do that?
the hubby: But you have a pocket knife.
that girl: I have a pocket knife? If I have a pocket knife, why would I choose my leg to cut? I would pick the tree.
the hubby: That would take forever to cut!
that girl: Seriously? How ridiculous. Why would I sever my leg? How could I even do that? I could cut one of those majority arteries and bleed to death. Then what good would I be then? It would make more sense to try to cut the tree.
the hubby: But it’s a tree trunk.
that girl: I thought it was a tree branch?
the hubby: No, it’s a trunk.
that girl: How would a tree trunk fall on me? That doesn’t make any sense. I’m sticking with a tree branch. And, I’m not going to cut my leg off. I would cut the tree.

This what we talk about. I’m going to give this a 7 on the weirdness scale.

I had this idea today that I wanted to find a weirdness scale. I thought for sure with all of this junk on the interwebz that someone had to have created one to amuse the rest of us. Either I suck at finding information or it just doesn’t exist…. So I’m going to start creating one, but I’d like people to contribute. That means you.

And instead of saying someone or something is “weird,” I’m changing the word to “wacky.” That way we don’t have to delve into deviant behavior. I don’t want that kind of weird wacky. What kind of weird wacky are you? I’m the kind of wacky where people don’t always understand me or how my brain works, and they dub me as “creative” or “outside the box.” I believe I am neither, to be honest.

What is a 1? Someone who… dresses their dog in clothes? I do that sometimes. There. I said it.

What is a 5? Someone who organizes their books by color? OK, I do that but it’s CWG’s fault.

What is a 10? Someone who saves dryer lint to make a blanket? Not it. I think, I read about that somewhere.

What is an 11? Someone who creates weirdness scales? ummm… Guilty.

I hope you contribute an idea. If nothing more, I hope to laugh.

I don’t want to discuss the “holidays” just yet but I feel the need to given, what I heard moments ago.

First, a preface.

The hubby and I don’t really make much of a fuss when it comes to gift-giving. I rarely need or want anything. He always asks me what I want and it’s hard for me to come up with anything. The same is true for him. He rarely makes any kind of request. For some reason tonight, though, the hubby felt the need to provide me with a gift idea. As most of our weird conversations go, this one came out of no where.

the hubby: You can always get me that Hickory Farms stuff.
that girl: What do you mean?… Get that for you… for Christmas?
the hubby: Yeah. You know I like that stuff.
that girl: So get you a beef log thing?
the hubby: No, I like the cheese and crackers.
that girl: Let me make sure I understand. You want me to buy you cheese and crackers for Christmas?
the hubby: Yeah…. You know, I’m just a simple man.

Cue Skynyrd!

This week I am a little giddy. Music makes me giddy, especially new music or a going to a concert that I’ve been looking forward to. I got both this week and that’s why I’m giddy. It’s like I’m in high school and I’m about to go see New Kids!

My pre-order of John Mayer’s new CD Battle Studies should be making its way to the house in the next day or two. While I’m at work, I can’t help but listen to the preview of his CD. (You can find it on Rhapsody). And then this weekend I’m going to battle it out for seats to his show. Woo hoo!

Earlier this week,  I went to see Maroon 5. Second row. SECOND row! That’s the closest I’ve ever been, so that got me all pumped up, too. It was freaking awesome! But they didn’t let me take in my camera–had to go back to the car… in the rain–so no pics to share. It was a great show. Oh and Adam Levine… mmmm. Seeing him that close made me realize how pretty he is.

Do you get giddy from music? If so, what songs? Musicians? etc.? If you say Lady Gaga, you are banned from my life. Thanks.

Tired of run-of-the-mill Facebook status updates from your friends? Do you frequently encounter the location status: at the lake? Or perhaps it’s the news status: I can’t believe Michael Jackson is dead? How about the poll status: What should I be for Halloween?

Every so often, there is that diamond in the rough that gets you thinking and forces you to make a comment in an already long string of comments. For me, it creates blog fodder.   This is by far the best status update I’ve read in the past few days:

“someone pooped on the sales floor at work today… Reluctantly, as usual, I went to clean it up and someone had stepped in it. WHO are these people!?”

Yeah…. So what are you thinking right now? My immediate reaction was Wha? Does my friend work in a pet store now? What does she mean someone? Is that her attempt at personifying a dog? I don’t understand.

As ridiculous as the status seems, it turned out not to be a joke! Someone actually took a poop in the store, a bookstore. On top of that, note the “as usual” part of the statement. Apparently this has happened multiple times. Unbelievable, right?

The result on Facebook was a flurry of comments ranging from sympathetic to dumbfounded to comical. And this was the most memorable:

“I think from now on ‘I’ve got to go to Borders’ should be a widely accepted euphemism for going to take a poop, replacing talking to Elvis, seeing a man about a mule, and dropping the kids off at the pool…”

The hubby and I have never been particularly fond of Halloween. As I kid I never had a costume that I really enjoyed and the same goes for him. But these past couple of years, we’ve moved closer to embracing the festivities and starting dressing up.

Two years ago, I was a poor representation of a Harijuku. Last year, I dressed like my Rock Band character and came up with the costume just 5 minutes before switching the porch light on. No one understood it but me, the hubby, and two of our fellow band mates. This year, I decided to dress as a girl from the ’60s.

The hubby is a bit more conservative. He’s only willing to wear a weird wig. Last year’s wig was a little black Afro. This year, he went with a big blond Afro. Stylish, huh? That’s it. That’s all he did….

Just kidding! He doesn’t actually dress like what you see in the picture on a regular basis, but he tried to play it off to some of the kids. And it was funny. I mean, can you see his shirt?? It’s Poseidon on a pegasus!! I kid you not. I bought that shirt the day of Halloween at a non-thrift store. It’s laughable! Same goes for the shorts, though we kind of like them. They are just really, really long. Like man-pris. The socks are a nice touch, right? He looked like a total weirdo.

So some of the older kids asked him what he was supposed to be. And he would just say, “What do you mean?” with a straight face. Confused, the kids would then ask what his costume was. And he would say, “What costume?” He found great joy in saying this to one girl because she believed him, and then he had to turn away to laugh. He later admitted to her that he was just joking. She replied, “I was going to say!”

Some of the parents were unsure of him, too. He said that one of the moms gave him the evil eye. haha.

Come on, people. It’s Halloween.

from tacobell.com

I’m not a big Taco Bell customer as it is, but I’m not sure about this Black Jack Taco. There is something so wrong about it. Aren’t we sort of trained as kids that food that is “black” is burnt? Who wants to eat a taco that looks burnt? Not me.

It’s about as bad as eating blue ketchup on sweet potato french fries. ack. It’s not natural.

Rarely am I the squeaky wheel. I let things go. I don’t complain too much. The only exception to this is when it comes to consumer injustices. I will write letters of complaint. I will speak to managers. I will make you feel bad for ever crossing my path.

I don’t raise a fuss randomly. I’m actually quite logical with whatever my complaint it. I’m not one of those kooks who complains just because they want their way or they are scamming a business. I’m legit. Really.

About a year ago, I had an issue with my camera. I thought I figured out how to fix the camera on my own, only to find that the fix was just a band-aid. I contacted the Canon people to see if they could fix it. It turned out that they could… for a fee. Or I could opt to buy a different model that had been refurbished. Nothing else was offered to me and I was not willing to do either option, so I just dropped the idea.

Flash forward to earlier this month. I happened to visit the Canon website where another customer happened to post that she had the same issue I had and Canon offered her free shipping and offered to fix the camera for free. Wha?

Do you hear that in the distance? It’s a squeaky wheel.

Yes, I raised fuss. I contacted them. I presented them with the evidence. I questioned them about fair treatment. The result? This squeaky wheel got the grease. I was offered free shipping and they fixed the camera for free. Why does the world work this way? ack. Why do we have to complain to be treated fairly?

A friend of ours wrote the following as her Facebook status: “trying to figure out what (child’s name) should be for Halloween.” A few of her friends suggested some nursery rhyme and Sesame Street characters for the 2-year-old.

Then hubby replied to her post:

“easy, Kate Gosselin.”

LMAO! Ridiculously funny, right? I mean, can you imagine a toddler as Kate Gosselin?! I think we might have to participate in Halloween this year simply for the sheer prospect of seeing mini Kate Gosselins running around.