oh, hell to the no

I've been in a bad mood for several days.  It's not my fault.  Really.  Do you know what mantra is for a bad mood?  I've shared it before and it's the title of this post.  "Oh, hell to the no."  Today  I thought I'd share with you the history of "oh, hell to the no" as well as something very special to me.  Yes, this is a Very Special Episode of The Kerry Blog.  

Back in June of 2005, I had just moved into the house I live in now.  I was extremely pregnant with the third child and the hubs was finishing up his job in Uzbekistan.  It was a rough summer.  It had been a difficult pregnancy and having the hubs gone was hard.  Then lo and behold — on the Bravo network there was a silver lining.  

Being Bobby Brown debuted at the end of June and cheered me up like nothing else.  It got me through the end of the pregnancy and recovery from the c-section.  Hell, it was there for me through Hurricane Freakin' Katrina.  

I can't put my finger on exactly what it was that made the show so special for me, but it was trainwrecktastic and I couldn't look away.  I set the DVR to full speed ahead and looked forward to every episode.  Bobby was just so-so, the show was all Whitney "hell to the no" Houston.  Whitney was priceless.  Maybe drunk or high on "life," but priceless nonetheless.  

Whitney was awesome for scenes like this:

Which is what you should sing any time your spouse is aggravating.  

Sometimes Whitney got a little belligerent.  

Yes, that's the same Whitney from The Bodyguard, people.  She shows many sides in Being Bobby Brown.  I'm still not sure which one I liked best.  It may be the Whitney in the following video.  This is Whitney and Bobby in a gift shop trying on sunglasses.

Why "Being Bobby Brown: The Musical" isn't on Broadway RIGHT THIS SECOND is the question I know you're asking yourself. 

And yes, that cashier was afraid for her life.  Poor thing never saw THAT coming.  

Hell_1

screencap by fourfour

 

Back to "oh, hell to the no."  Whitney made this her signature phrase on the show.  I adopted it because it's pretty fabulous.  Feel free to use it, but use it correctly and don't wear it out.  A pronunciation guide can be found in the link above the videos.  Don't embarrass yourself (and Whitney) by saying it wrong.

Being Bobby Brown ran for one season and produced a Christmas Special.  OH, YES THEY DID.  But I would have to say my favorite episode was the Mother's Day episode when Bobby foolishly agreed to keep his brother's children for the weekend.  The episode spawned the Whitney quote: "it's Mother's Day, not All-Everybody Day!" Thank you for that, Whitney.  I think of you every Mother's Day now.  The saddest thing about Being Bobby Brown is that Whitney refused to do a second season and will not agree to have dvds released.  

I can't imagine why she doesn't want this show to live on and on.  

old things

I like old things. Old things are comforting, sort of like old friends. I like stuff and I like to be surrounded by my things, it makes me happy. I'm not ready for Hoarders quite yet, but there are a few things I've had forever and I thought I would give you a peek into my weirdness. 

old things When I was probably eight, my great aunt Mary gave me this little garbage can with my name on it for my birthday. I've always loved just about anything with my name on it because when you have a name with an unusual spelling, you never just find things with your name. It never happened when I was a kid. Those license plates for bikes?  There was no Kerry license plate.  Pencils, pens, bracelets, diaries — nothing ever had my name.  Because I have a weird name.  No one ever spells it right and I'll never find it on a notepad.  Do you know who always found her name on everything?  My sister, Kelly.  

So, when my aunt gave me this garbage can, I thought it was great. This was also the aunt who gave me my first Barbie when I was six. My name is in green because  the carpet in my bedroom was green at the time and everything had to match.  This little garbage can held everything from crumpled up childhood drawings to ripped up teenage love letters in that bedroom.  It came to Louisiana Tech with me and survived many, many moves (eight in almost 13 years, but who's counting) and now resides in my scrap office full of paper just like it was back in the day.  Only now it's mainly test-run printed stuff for ScrapFest or old to-do lists.  

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 The Kerry Weirdness continues.  Every morning I use the same Maybelline eyebrow brush that I've used since I was 12. It's just exactly right, it's old. I've bought others over the years, but none of them handle like the Maybelline brush from the '80s to sweep the perfect amount of auburn onto my blond eyebrows.  I have no natural color in my face save for my freckles, so the eyebrows have to get their share of makeup too.  

The Kerry Weirdness and old things kind of go together.  Hand and glove.  Fingerless gloves.

file under “a” for “amuse”

I'm getting my hair cut and colored tomorrow and I feel like a change, so I though I'd do a Google image search for "short naturally curly hair pictures."  The results were interesting.  

Take a look, maybe you can help me decide which style to go with, because at this point it's a toss-up and my appointment is at ten, so any help would be appreciated.  Let's go to the photos.

8449_Sacha-Baron-Cohen

Timberlake-buzz
 Will-smith-short-hairstyles-1
 1970_Lenny-Kravitz-dh
 
I don't know what the Google is trying to tell me.   Timberlake's hair isn't even a style.

I think I'm going to go with the Lenny Kravitz.

images from google images via top-hairstyle.com and thehairstyler.com

this might as well be “va-jay-jays and lagniappe”

I've been sitting on this post for two days because people are still asking me about JLove Hewitt's VaJazzling and my Gynecologist office Photo Study is now the #2 post on the blog behind Kerry the Pin-up Girl (which isn't really me, it's an illustration of Hilda, I digress), so I was a little apprehensive about writing about this subject again.  

BUT then again, the first rule of writing is write what you know, so….  

I just lost my male readers, I know it.  Sorry guys.

This blog is becoming THE place to come for all things va-jay-jay.  BUT WAIT.  I have  found what has to be the funniest thing I've ever seen in the history of estrogen.  It's Love Your Vagina and it's from some female hygiene product, but who cares, because this site is hilarious.  It lets you submit your nickname for your vagina. Yep. And it shows the entries and how many people have submitted the names.  Oh, yes it does.

The first thing that struck me about this is that the site is British and the Brits obviously have a different view of the C-word, because the C-word is number one.  I can't speak for all American women, but I have talked to three (count 'em – three!) of my friends and we've all agreed that the C-word is derogatory and downright icky.  It must not be in other parts of the world, but it is here, and it's a word I can't say out loud and I'm 35 years old.  There are a few other words I don't say out loud, but we're not getting into that today.  

Let's go to the list!  You may want to put the Diet Coke down.  

Vagatron
Narnia
Special purpose
Chamber of secrets
George Bush
Enchilada of love
My netherlands
Ms Ginger Bigglesworth
Off limits
Lady gaga
Beverly
Downstairs
The control room
Lady cave
The suburbs
The downtown dining and entertainment district
Anastasia von Beaverhousen (read this in a German accent, it's even better)
The vip lounge


Now if you'll excuse me, I have to put up a velvet rope.  And no vip lounge/va-jay-jay talk tomorrow.  

curse words and nicknames and terms of endearment

I enjoy a good curse word from time to time.  I tend not to pepper my everyday speech (okay, not every hour) with foul language because it loses effect and makes one sound like a sailor going around saying "I'd like a motherf*ckin' iced tea."  And so, years ago, probably around the time my first child was born, I started saying anti-curse words that are acceptable to say in any situation.  

My grandmother always said "she-I-T," saying the word she and spelling I and T.  When I was a kid and teenager, I found this hysterical, because everyone knew she cursing.  

Wilson020203_big  I like my anti-cursing better.  My super mega favorite phrase is "Flip Wilson," because it starts with F and has an impact and because it is out there, so if people overhear you, they're all "say what?" and you're all "you know, Flip Wilson" then they look at you at you like they've never heard anyone use a dead black comedian's name as an expletive before.  Some people.  Losers.  

Maybe it's because Flip Wilson was black.  If that's the case, then people are just damn racists and there is no room for that on my blog.  AND I WILL TURN THIS BLOG AROUND RIGHT NOW!  

Another great anti-curse word is "MaHAILia!"  You can also try "oh MaHAILia" or variations on that theme. 

The only other ant-curse phrase I use is "shut the front door" and I think we all know what that is the substitute for.  

I do know that when my children grow up they will tell people their mother used to yell deceased black performers names when I stubbed my toe or said "shut the front door!" on the phone with a friend and they'd look to see that the door was in fact closed.  They will be confused, but at least I'm not cursing like a sailor.  

My children also know that I have a thing for nicknames.  I think I get this from my grandmother too, who called me Puddin' Dumplin', which got shortened to Pud in later years.  I like to nickname people.  It's fun.  Try it.  The many nicknames for the munchkins are as follows: Puddin' Pop, Puddin' Pop America, and Snack Pack (which also has to do with pudding), as well as Muffinhead, Punkin' Muffin, and Snuggle Muffin.  I don't know where the pudding and muffin thing came from.  I don't even like pudding and muffins all that much.  Okay, I love a banana nut muffin, but I'm more of a loaf-bread person.  Give me a zucchini bread or a pumpkin bread any day of the week and I'm one happy redheaded chick.

I've had nicknames for the hubs, but they've never stuck.  His entire family calls him "Scotty," which I will say to get his attention, and only to get his attention, because hearing that is like nails on a chalkboard to me. I've tried  Scotch, Scooter, Fred Flinstone-head (have you seen his head?  totally Fred Flintstone!), but nothing sticks.  

Then there are my good friends.  Y'all have read about Frugal Beth.  The woman is frugal – even though I did witness her (gasp!) throw some paper bigger than a postage stamp away at ScrapFest.  I call my friend and bizness partner, Megan, Snack Shack and Lunchbox for absolutely no reason.  No idea where those names came from.  Jennifer is Jenny From the Block.  Kim has always been Country Kim.  Darla is Dar to me and she is one of the few people who calls me Ker.  Anna Bess is AB, but I'm sure I didn't give her that nickname.  

F0052826_496d287116b72 I've come up with many random nicknames for friends over the years, but my favorite multipurpose name is Honey Bunches of Oats, which I use as a term of endearment for people I really care about.  If I call you Honey Bunches of Oats, you are in my inner circle.  Some of you know this.  

Why Honey Bunches of Oats?  Because! it is only the best cereal of all time and I would only call my loved ones something based on something superfantastic. Duh.  I am not kidding when I tell you that when I first saw the commercial for Honey Bunches of Oats: Just Bunches, I said out loud, "this changes everything."  Yes, I am a little dramatic.  I'm not even a breakfast person, I just like Honey Bunches of Oats – With Almonds.  Yes, it has to be With Almonds or I don't want any part of it.  

What about my nicknames?  Well, I was Kerry B for a long time and I'm ReeRee to a few people and Aunt ReeRee to a couple of munchkins.  And I'm Mom.  And I think those are pretty cool.  Now, if I could only start getting the kids to start calling me Queen Mother.

ANDLETMETELLYOUANOTHERTHING!

So, another ScrapFest! is over and soon I'll begin the website revamp to start getting ready for the September event.  It was a very cold weekend.  I was getting over bronchitis, had just gotten my voice back in time to be Mistress of Ceremonies, and now I'm coughing again.  Yea me!  Of course, I'm an idiot, and didn't bring my inhaler, so that didn't help Saturday night when we were loading up the vehicles in the cold (thanks to Frugal Beth, Sarah, and Michele who mostly loaded my car).  My car had ice on it at 1am.  It was cold, people.  And I literally sold the hoodie off my back.  Last September, I designed hoodies that we sold and of course I'd left mine at the house.  On Thursday I wore a jean jacket.  Friday I didn't wear a jacket and froze, so I pulled a hoodie off the pile and wore it that evening and wore it home because it was so dang cold.  So, Saturday night, one of our fabulous croppers asks if we have any 2x hoodies left, and I say, "well, honestly, the only one we have is the one I was wearing last night, but I promise I only wore it last night because I was freezing to death."  She said she'd take it.  That's right, people, I will sell the hoodie off my back.  

That's the ScrapFest! wrap-up.  Oh, and I ran off some skate-punk teenagers who walked into the Castine Center with skateboards under their arms.  They said they were looking for concessions.  Oh, and some guy came in and asked if I knew anything about the dance party.  ANSWER: hell yeah!  Break out the disco ball, baby!

Other things going on in Kerryworld are:  

  • I'm currently trying to be suckered into a massive project I've already turned down once.  This time the party doing the asking has gotten my hubs involved, asking him to ask me.  LIKE THAT WILL WORK! HA!  I LAUGH IN YOUR FACE!  
  • I am taking on another project because I was clearly drunk on cough medicine when I agreed to said project.  Note to friends: hit Kerry up for stuff when she's sick!  Kidding.
  • I bought a keyboard that will not work on a Mac when I was drunk on cough medicine.  Note to self: do not shop online while sick.
  • I think a certain Etsy seller is holding one of my purchases hostage.  I am not positive, but we have had a lot of communication back and forth and finally she says she mailed it Saturday.  It has been two months since I ordered the item.  We shall see.  
  • For very different reasons, I've been disappointed in a few people lately.  My feelings have been hurt and I'm not sure what can be done to remedy the problem except for letting time pass.  Time takes time.  But what I want to do is say something very different.  What I want to say is in the words of Morrissey, "nothing's changed, I still love you, oh, I still love you only slightly less than I used to."  You know, or something like that.  There are things I would like to say that I can't say.  I would like to yell "ANDLETMETELLYOUANOTHERTHING!"  But I can't.  And the thing is that the people who have hurt me probably don't realize their trespasses.  But they should.  If it were me, I would have.  But then again, I have feelings.  

And so, that's it for tonight.  I'm taking a a week or so off now that ScrapFest! is over before I start the site. Who knows what's next.  I thought I'd let you know what I'm listening to right now, something I'm finding a little solace in.  Ingrid Michaelson reminds me a little of one of my faves, Regina Spektor.  This song is called "Keep Breathing," and I first heard it on Grey's Anatomy.  

06 Keep Breathing

This one is "Be OK" and it's just how I feel.  So, thanks Ingrid.  

01 Be OK

This isn't a real Tunes Tuesday post, but do yourself a favor and go get Ingrid's album Girls and Boys and these two songs from Be OK.  She's a great young singer/songwriter and is indie and supergood.  

allow me to save nbc

I don't know if you've heard, but there is something of a situation over at NBC.  Jay Leno has a 9pm show that's getting canceled and he's taking back the helm of the Tonight Show from Conan (long live Coco), so it seems NBC has to make some quick programming decisions for after the Olympics end.  That's five nights of hour-long television.  Of course, they could just run Law and Order: Caddo Parish; Law and Order: Hotlanta; Law and Order: Shoplifters at Target; Law and Order: Put On Some Damn Pants, Lady Gaga; and the highly anticipated, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit: Oh, I Know You D'in't.  

So, NBC, I've taken it upon myself to save your network. I have five television show ideas for you and I'm available immediately to start writing/consulting/directing/starring — you know, whatever I can do to help.  Call me.

I Can't Really Remember The '80s…with Beth.  You've all read about my dear friend Frugal Beth on the blog.  She's great, but she gets absolutely zero '80s references and says she doesn't "remember" the '80s.  I say throw her in a room with Flava Flav and Ozzy and see what happens.  A big screen would show video clips and we'd hear Beth say "no, I don't remember that" and Ozzy would mumble something, then Flava Flav would go "boyeeeee" for no reason.  It would be ratings gold in the 45+ market.

Houseboy  Kerry Gets a Houseboy will be a guaranteed hit. And don't worry, I'm pretty sure the hubs thinks I already have a houseboy lined up, so it's cool.  It's a running joke here in the Faler house, but joke no more!  Here's the premise: cute young prospective houseboys try out to be The Houseboy.  Each week the houseboys will compete at various tasks such as laundry, dusting, cooking, grocery shopping, party planning, dishes, gardening, and helping with homework.  My girlfriends and I will sit on the judging panel, sending one houseboy packing each week.  The girlfriends and I will wear caftans and sit on chaise lounges sipping mimosas during judging.  I may have a celebrity cougar judge each week.  I'm thinking Joan Collins, Ann-Margaret, Susan Sarandon, Sharon Stone.  

In the end, I get a houseboy!  

Houseboy gets room and board.  It's a win-win!  I predict mad crazy ratings among women ages 25-95, because let's face it, this show will be basically porn for women: hot guys doing housework.  How bad could that be?  

And it could be re-run on Bravo or Logo a millions times a day.  The gays would love my show.  Kerry Gets a Houseboy = ratings gold.

Who Wants To Marry A Guy With Decent Credit?  Dana does, that's who.  This show will star my friend, Dana, who is single, loves shoes, good books, and cute guys.  She doesn't want it all, she just wants a guy with decent credit.  Each week in a Bachelor-style rose ceremony, Dana's suitors will have their credit score revealed and Dana will hand them credit cards.  If their score isn't up to par, she will say, "I'm sorry, but your card has been declined" and the poor guy will hop into his Ford Festiva and ride off into the sunset.  In this economy this show will be ratings gold.

Never Met A Job I Didn't Like will be a dramedy chronicling the misadventures of a cute redheaded 20something who may remind you of someone a lot like me a decade ago.  Our heroine puts her best foot forward in adorable mary janes, but somehow manages to get fired from every single job she lands (she quits a few along the way too).  She does everything from teach pre-school, work lots of retail, tutor high school kids, take orders for concrete, works for a non-profit, writes a textbook for a correspondence school, and dresses mannequins in a department store. You name it, she's done it — and been fired from it.  There are lots of zany bosses, co-workers, and of course her understanding husband who just knows when she wants to answer the classified ad to be the mall Easter Bunny, she's gone a little too far.  In this economy this show will be ratings gold.


Small_0828-andrew-mccarthy  I Want To Give Andrew McCarthy A TV Show
will be a show in which I give Andrew McCarthy a TV show. 

Just because I want to see him on my TV every week.  That's it.  No more guest spots on shows.  He needs his own show.  Make him a doctor – he's done that, he's been a good TV doctor!  Make him lawyer, a writer, a professional bowler — I don't care, just give him a show.  I would watch him read the newspaper.  It's taken me all night to blog this just because his photo is right there.  Look at boyfriend's eyes over there.  He needs a TV show.  Come on, NBC, you cancelled that Lipstick Jungle show he was in — I say bring his character back and make it The Andrew McCarthy Show.  Trust me, there are plenty of other 30something women who have been in love with him since 1986 — this show will be ratings gold!

There you go, NBC.  I've done all I can do.  I'm only one woman, but I'm doing what I can to help save your network.  My show ideas are out there, call me, we'll talk. I don't have an agent, so just have your people call, um, me.  

so, this is where a post usually goes

So, this is where a post usually goes.

But there is no post tonight.  

There was no post yesterday.  

There will be a post soon.  

It will be good.  

I promise.  

There are pictures and there will be words to go with those pictures when my brain can make better sense of words.  But for now, just know that I have a bump on my head and I feel tipsy although I haven't had a drop to drink.  Lawdy mercy.

photo study: my grandfather’s house

My grandparents were a tremendous influence on me growing up.  I learned volumes from them on things such as family, forgiveness, community, God, work, and charity.  

My grandmother, Patsy, was an adorable 4 foot 10 inch spitfire who would often curse with her signature "she-I-T" when she forgot to put the rolls in the oven or if the smoke alarm went off.  She named the hummingbirds that fed in their backyard every year — all with names that started with H.  She wore one of those aprons that said "nobody cooks like" with the extra letters to iron-on for your name, but in at least a decade of wearing, she never ironed her name on the apron.  She always had peppermints and Wrigley's Spearmint gum.  She hummed when she did housework and cooked.  She used two giant leather-bound dictionaries to work the Sunday crossword puzzle, but would call me for pop-culture references when I was in middle and high school.  I was devastated when Mammaw Patsy died of cancer in February of 2002, but I am grateful for every moment I was able to spend with her and for everything I learned from her.

My grandfather, Glenn, is another story altogether.  I love him to death.  He was a marine, a fireman, and is what my grandmother used to call "a tinkerer."  I've never seen someone do more to try to fix something in my life.  When we evacuated to Shreveport during Hurricane Katrina, my grandfather welcomed us with open arms.  Andrew was two months old and it was less than an ideal forced vacation to my hometown.  When we arrived I saw that my grandfather had all the pieces of an ironing board strewn all over the back porch and was attempting to reassemble it.  It was a wooden ironing board.  Made of wood.  He worked on the ironing board for almost the entire two weeks we were there before giving up on it and heading to Walmart for a new ironing board.  The old one had been his mother's and was probably from 1925, and no, I'm not exaggerating because my grandfather was born in 1926.  

Pappaw hates new stuff.  One of my favorite things to do when I'm at the house is to quiz him on the age of things around the house.  My favorite is the plastic green dustpan that was purchased the same year my mother was born.  So, just to show you the fun that surrounds Casa de Pappaw should you ever visit, here is my photo study.  

I like to call this collection of photos "The House Where Time Stands Still."

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It's always December 2003

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 I'm not sure if you can make it out, but the note says "Love you, Erin.  12-22-97 Merry X-mas!"  Erin is my cousin, who was 12 in 1997.

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This would be the new flat-screen tv next to the non-working console tv, which is now a shelf, obviously (holding the RECORD PLAYER).  The kids were watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, that's Johnny Depp looking weird.

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 This photo is from the entryway.  This lovely faux wicker set has been hanging in this exact spot since 1984 when my grandparents moved into the house.  Those candles used to be Williamsburg Blue and have never been lit.  The red flowers are new and are just awful.

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 This white, orange, and green carpet could probably induce seizures.  It's in the "computer room."  This is the room I would sleep in when I spent the night in high school.  I don't know how I didn't have nightmares.  The light fixture used to match — it was all kinds of disco awesome. 

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No, this isn't Pappaw's current phone number, so don't call and ask for his primo decorating tips.  Here's something funny though: I can remember my friend Will's phone number from high school because of this phone.  When I would spend the night at my grandparents' house and call him, it took ten minutes to dial the number because of all the 9s and 7s.  By the time the phone would ring, I'd already forgotten why I had called in the first place.

 

And now for the portion of the photo study I call "Paint it Brown."  The family joke is that my Pappaw paints everything brown so it resembles wood.  

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Yeah, he painted the birdhouse and pole brown. 

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No, the mailbox didn't come in brown — he had to paint it that color.  The original wooden post was hit by someone on the street, so Pappaw made a post out of some sort of metal and painted it brown to resemble wood.  I believe his exact words were "just let them try to run it over now." 

While I am poking fun at my grandfather, I love him very much and think he's the best.  I loved spending time with him during the holidays and hearing old fireman stories and talking about Andy Griffith .  He's the only person who calls my son, Andrew, "Andy" and I love that.  

favorite ornaments

Tonight after putting away the Polly Pockets and trains, I sat in my dining room taking it all in.  Our Christmas tree stands in a corner of the dining room, crooked after the chaos this morning.  My camera was still on the table, so I grabbed it and snapped pictures of my favorite ornaments.  I tend to hate themey trees, but our tree has gotten kind of themey with a lot of colorful candy canes, cupcakes, lollipops, and ribbon candy, as well as the keepsake ornaments and those I've received as gifts.  I thought I would share the photos.

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My tiny glass candy canes among the painted wooden and real candy canes decorated to look like Rudolph by the kids.

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One of the cupcakes.  I love the cupcakes — the sprinkles are the cutest.

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Molly's tiny ballerina ornament is my favorite of the kids ornaments.  Ain't she sweet?

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This is the only surviving snow globe ornament from the three I purchased three years ago.  Have you ever broken a snow globe?  Broken glass, water, and tiny flecks of fake snow.  Not cool.

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One of the three "baby's 1st Christmas" ornaments on our tree.  This is Molly's.

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And my favorite new ornament, a gift from great friends.  Very cute on my supercute tree.

I hope you've had an especially wonderful Christmas.