The Hap. Hap. Happiest Christmas since.....

Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny F-ing Kay. 

Merry Christmahanakwanzaakuh to all! The tree is decorated. The cookies are baked. Now off to the homestead to watch The Best Christmas Pageant Ever and eat hot dogs......tradition. It chokes me up sometimes.

"That's all you have to say?"

Children show us the immensity of love every day. Their capacity to feel empathy is boundless even in the darkest of times. None more so than when a beloved family member throws off this mortal coil and goes on......even when that family member is a goldfish named Lucky.



Now, Maya seems to be taking this loss in stride. I can only wonder if her feelings would be different if she knew the whole story. You see, the author is an avid watcher of both Law and Order and OZ. Over the course of this video Maya and her parents discuss the close "friendship" of Lucky and Marland and lament that Marland was always helping Lucky to eat.

These clues lead me to several conclusions:

1. Lucky's mental status BEFORE the death of Marland is questionable at best. Did he suffer from some form of goldfish eating disorder; or was he merely another tragic case of depression?

2. Is it possible that Lucky and Marland's friendship was less Chandler and Joey and a little more Beecher and Keller? I don't want to presuppose, but when the death of one leads to the death of another....you can't help but wonder how invested these little fish hearts were.

3. The mother. She didn't "know" Lucky?! He lived in your house, lady! Ate your food! Loved your daughter like a sister?! And you can't muster grief enough to say a few words at his funeral. I'm just sayin' it wouldn't be out of the question to turn a little of the heat on over to "Momma".....if that's even her real name.

Oh. Holy. Crap.

This is the funniest thing possibly of all time. Like me, she seems to have been sucked--pun intended--into the mental vortex that is Twilight. We drank the Kool-Aid, but only enough that we are still cognizant of the insanity, potential literary black holes, and the ever-increasing hilarity that IS this phenomenon.


Last day of school, yo. And? It's a half-day. AND? The work peeps are taking me out for an early birthday fiesta, seeing as how we'll be out on the actual day. Which leads me to say......Twenty Freakin' Five?! Oh, these jokers have gots to be kidding me. I don't know how I'll possibly recover from this....
That helps.

Attention!

Cancel all--undoubtedly amazing--Christmas/25th birthday present ideas--yes, Donya, even the gold-plated Obama commemorative coins.

Reason?

My computer seems to be in a death spiral. Something akin to Paul Rubin's protracted demise in the Buffy movie. I don't know why. I don't know how. I only know this......me no likey. Doesn't Tosh Iba know I need her? For blogging? Facebook stalking? Blogging?!

This is unacceptable. And I deign that you, my vast readership--of like 6 people--pool the money you're saving on lower gas prices and buy me this.


The death watch on the computer was doing nothing to get my two psych papers written; so I high-tailed it to Gorgas to make use of the free computing. And there was some DUDE next to me watching....wait for it....Annie on youtube. Without headphones. In the middle of finals. Seriously?!

I....There are no words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Can we talk for a second about Gossip Girl last night?! It's like when you watch Big Daddy--which is so NOT a crying movie--and you bawl your eyes out in the court room scene when DylanColeWhat'sHisName is screaming "But I wipe my own Ass!" Or it would be. If I'd ever done that, which I haven't.....shut up. Suffice it to say, I didn't think His Royal Hotness, one Chuck Bass, was capable of actual human tears. But when Blair went upstairs during the reception and.....the LOOK he gave her. It took everything I had not to liquify into the couch right then and there.*guh....


Oh, and I need to be here:



One bag, a bottle of red, and maybe a gentleman friend. Not too much to ask in this season of giving.......Why, yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Clause.

Dear Santa.....

All I want for Christmas is.....
God I'm pathetic....



Love, Molly


Sidebar: There's absolutely no justification for me lusting after the above pictured. Except maybe that unlike the Eleventy million screaming fangurls and Facebook flairmakers out there, I'm actually in the right age range for Mr. Sparkly. Joss Whedon's warped little mind is completely and totally responsible for this. In the words of supahspy Sydney Bristow......

"E.M.E.T.I.B. Got that? Now, reverse it."

December 1st

It's World AIDS Day. I'm always reminded that the fight is not over. Millions are infected and dying; and still aren't being educated and treated. The problems seem insurmountable, but when I see memorials like this.......
I have HOPE.