It's Called Some Kind of Dickin' Rockin' Dickie Eve

In honor of today's holiday, I give you the single greatest moment in the history of New Year's Eve-themed television show episodes - The Routine. David, we should learn this. I bet we could get Honorable Mention in the Brother/Sister Dance Category!

King Kong

So for Christmas this year, much fun was had by all. From my family, I got new curtains for my bedroom (because, after having lived in that house for four and a half years, I figured it might be time to put up curtains; pictures to follow once I iron and hang them), a Wii Fit, a pretty necklace, and lots of other lovely gifts. But no gift on Christmas morning was as beloved as this one received by Pants and Holly.

For those unfamiliar with canine paraphernalia, a Kong is a toy into which a dog treat is inserted. The dog then has to chew on the toy to get the treat to come out. Clearly, this was beneath Holly. She played with it for a few seconds, and then looked at us as if we had gone crazy. The Princess shoud not have to work for her food like this.

Pants, on the other hand, has fallen in love. This thing kept him busy and quiet for hours as his four little brain cells all united in a common goal - get food out of toy. Anyone who knows Pants knows what a challenge it is to get him to shut up in the hours leading up to dinnertime; this tiny toy has taken care of it. I have never seen him so quiet and so engrossed in something for so long. This, my friends, is what pure happiness looks like:

I Got A Lot Of Problems With You People!

In honor of today's holiday, I give you the following:



A happy Festivus to you all!

EAT ME! Hey, It's Thanksgiving Day!

It's about time that I discussed my Thanksgiving. Only three weeks late - not too bad!

So we went to my aunt's house in Pittsburgh, as we always do. This is the home of what my aunt makes me call my furry cousins, also known as her four dogs. They are rather entertaining.

This is Grete, my favorite. I call her Favorite. My aunt once heard me do this and told me to stop calling her that. I suppose she thought the others would get jealous.

Grete is a special one. She's afraid of lots of things - wind, plastic bags, being hugged, large suitcases, etc. But she's never vicious - when she gets scared, she freezes, then bolts away to find a Happy Place. This is Grete hiding in the sewing room because she was afraid of my hair dryer:

Next we have Molly. Molly is a black lab/chow mix. She has a speckled tongue (not pictured). I call her The Tick because she is rather bulbous for her diminutive stature, and resembles a tick that is satiated. She is very quiet, but is clearly in charge. Here, she guards a rawhide chewy from the rest of the menagerie.

Lily is the golden retriever/yellow lab mix. She is very boisterous, and goes by the alias Silly. She has a black spot underneath her nose that looks like a mustache, and is also sometimes known as Hitler for this reason.

The fourth dog is named Kiley. Her real name is Ruby, though - she was a stray. According to my aunt's vet, she had been abused; however, this does not stop us from referring to her as Hot Dog or some variation implying that she had been stolen. KiRubLey doesn't do much. She pretty much just sits on the couch and glares at people who make her move with an "if I could feed myself, I would kill you in your sleep" look.

However, the canine roster does not stop there. On this particular holiday, they were dogsitting for the neighbor's horse--I mean, chocolate lab. I get them confused. As would you, if you met Hunter:

Hunter is very large, but very sweet. His tail is a lethal weapon, and we spent much of the visit rescuing drinks off of the coffee table before they met their demise at his hand (well, at his tail). Hunter is very easy to please, though - all he needs is a ball, which he will guard with his life until someone is ready to throw it for him.

Contrary to popular belief, we did not spend the whole visit being covered in dog hair. We also visited downtown Pittsburgh for dinner at the William Penn hotel on Thanksgiving, where my great-grandfather used to work.

The lobby and dining room were lovely, and the Thanksgiving meal was very good. Although half of the fun was seeing the expressions on the faces of children at neighboring tables when presented with the first course - pea soup. Actually, the rather closely resembled the expressions on the faces of some of my dining companions as well. The lobby is seen here in a photo I stole from the Internets.

After dinner, we wandered around downtown Pittsburgh for awhile, visiting many local landmarks, including the Kaufmann's clock (which just made me miss Kaufmann's and Hecht's):

We also visited the Frick Building, named for Andrew Clay Frick, a Pittsburgher who was, according to Wikipedia, an "industrial coke producer." It goes on to clarify that "coke" is something made from coals, not a cola or an illicit drug favored by Wall Street professionals of the 1980s. Although the story would be much better if it was. Anyway, apparently I say this guy's name occasionally, so my dad thought this would be a funny picture:

The next night, we went to see Spamalot at a theater downtown. A very nice theater, in fact. So nice, that one would expect theatergoers to dress up for the occasion. This is not always the case. While the vast majority of audience members were wearing suits, jackets, nice dresses/skirts/dress pants, etc., a number of people seemed to think that a Steeler jersey would elevate their ensembles to a level of formality that is appropriate for this venue. Sometimes paired with khakis, sometimes paired with jeans, and always paired with decorum, a Steeler jersey is western Pennsylvania's equivalent to the tuxedo. I only wish I had brought one...but alas, I was stuck wearing a skirt, sweater, pantyhose, and heels.

Speaking of formal wear...I shall close this entry with the awesomeness that is my brother's new sunglasses. David "swiped these off some chick at an 80's party." I feel like Fallon Carrington Colby (accent on the Carrington!) would wear these during a day spent lying by the pool. He now has two pairs, but is far too mean to let his sister wear one, even though I told him it could be our parents' Christmas card photo this year.

I hope everyone had a splendid Thanksgiving of their own! Next up - Christmas! (Although at the rate I'm going, that'll get posted somewhere around Mary's birthday.)

The Frog That Would Not End

As many of you know, my mother has a frog that she likes better than either my brother or myself. Niki and Jeni gave David a Grow-A-Frog kit as a 10th birthday gift, and it's still alive and kicking. It's cannibalistic, has been down the garbage disposal, spent a week in a tank with a dead frog, David didn't feed it for months at a time, and yet the damn thing still persists in living. I swear, when the End of Days comes, it'll just be cockroaches and this thing left.

And now, I have evidence that may perpetuate that belief: http://www.spidercox.co.uk/xenopusfrog.htm

If this thing lives to be 30 years old, I'm suing the Grow-a-Frog company.