Christmas shopping guide: idea #8 — a great ending to the series

So, I wanted to end the Christmas Shopping Guide series with a bang, and peeps, I think I've found the perfect gift for the hard to buy for man in your life. I can say with full authority, I have seen nothing like this in all my 34 years, never heard of such a thing, never dreamed I'd lay eyes on anything so beautiful and wrong at the same time. What could I be referring to? Feast your eyes on this catalog page:

For your final edition of the Kerry Blog Christmas Shopping Guide, I give you custom made urinal sculptures. Yes, they are sculptures of flowers and shells. Yes, they are working urinals. Yes, I am just as confused as when I watched "The Lake House" and couldn't figure out how the heck Sandra Bullock and Keanu got together through a magic mailbox.

Being as how I'm a chick and know little to nothing about urinals, I assumed they were purely utilitarian. I was obviously wrong. I've not been in many men's restrooms, of course there was the Taco Bell men's room somewhere in Mississippi, but my knowledge on this subject is limited. So, I turned to my hubs for his opinion, who said "I have a mixture of emotions, not one is desirable, kind of like mixing ketchup and icecream." No, I don't know what that means, the hubs in an enigma.

Art has always spoken to me. I love art and I understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Call me crazy (wouldn't be the first time), but when I think of art, bodily functions do not jump to mind. The potty artist is is Clark Sorenson and he says the sculptures are meant to be installed and used. Now, once upon a time, I was featured in an art show, I was on the program as an artist — at no time while viewing my work did I think, "hmm…that would look great as a toilet." Maybe it's just me.

So, if you're still looking for that perfect gift for that guy in your life and you'd like to have more art in your home, go ahead and order one of Clark's pieces. Of course, it may give you nightmares to walk into your bathroom at 2 am to potty and see a giant Calla Lily jutting out of your wall. I know that would give me nightmares. Not to mention I wouldn't be able to take the hubs joking about watering the flowers, which I know he would do everyday.

And just in case you're not a flower or shell person, maybe you can't get enough politics in your life — well, here's the urinal for you:

Y'all, I'm not a Republican and I find this disturbing. Beyond disturbing. I'm pretty sure I'll have nightmares about this. I mean, hell, what's next — a Cheney bidet? Ew. No, that's just, no.

Ok, later I'll post on something a little more congenial. Well, maybe not congenial, but I'll aim higher for the next post (pun intended). For now I have to get some sleep, I've spent far too much time on this post and my eyes are quite heavy.

Remember to get your entries in for the Kerry Blog Ugly-Ass Christmas Decoration Contest by Christmas Eve. Email pics or videos to kerrybee7@yahoo.com

worst gift ever

Being that I have a bunch of gifts to wrap, laundry to fold, piles of magazines and kids' school papers to go through, not to mention I think I'm getting bronchitis — I didn't think I'd post until tonight, but then I saw this on the-coveted.com.

This is beyond wrong. Everyone knows I hate birds. I like them when they're flying around, not bothering anyone, but no — they have to attack people and try to kill them. Have you seen Hitchcock's The Birds? Scariest freakin' movie I've ever seen. The damn birds are everywhere! It's pretty much my nightmare since that day in 1994 when the parrot attacked me at the Audubon Aquarium of the Americas. I was not injured by the bird only because I was able to get away thanks to my cat-like reflexes. For a chubby girl, I can run when faced with a big blue pterodactyl. Damn giant blue parrot. Scott said it was a Maccaw, I prefer to think of it as a giant blue instrument of death.

If I opened this on Christmas morning I would no doubt go into cardiac arrest. I'm sure seeing that Barbie under my tree would put me in the hospital. It could only be worse if those were owls. What the hell is Mattel thinking? Are there no other Barbies left in the world to make? What's next — Carrie from the Stephen King movie? Have they made the Aretha Franklin Barbie? Yoko Ono Barbie? How about a First Lady series? I suggest starting with Dolly Madison. Surely there are other Barbies out there to make. I'm not an anti-Barbie feminist. I love Barbie. Sure, she could stand to eat a sandwich, but I have nothing against her. I just don't want to see her being pecked to death by birds.

Here's the blurb about it from BarbieCollector.com: In 1963, Alfred Hitchcock,
the Master of Suspense, gave us a tale of terror not soon forgotten in
his film “The Birds.” Dressed in a re-creation of the stylish green
skirt-suit worn by the film’s ill-fated heroine in an iconic scene, Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds”
Barbie® Doll celebrates the 45th anniversary of the acclaimed film.
From the doll’s classic ensemble to the perfectly painted expression to
the accompanying black birds, every aspect captures the film’s infamous
appeal.

Seriously? Her perfectly painted expression of utter fear for her life! I give up, Mattel. Here's an idea: the Kerry Barbie — In 2008, Kerry Faler, the Mistress of the Mundane, gave us a blog soon not to be forgotten for its near-humor and paranoid ramblings. Dressed in a pink ScrapFest! t-shirt and black yoga pants worn by her while writing the blog, the "Kerry Faler" Doll celebrates the life of the 34 year-old acclaimed mom. From the doll's comfy ensemble to the perfectly painted WTF expression to the accompanying MP3 of "Black Bird," every aspect captures Kerry's moderate appeal. You should know the Kerry doll cannot wear Barbie's clothes as the Kerry doll is not a stick and most likely would not play nice with Barbie.

No one better get me that scary doll from The Birds. Unless you want me to come to your house and beat you down, don't even think about it.

Christmas shopping guide: idea #7 — calling all last minute shoppers

For those of you paying attention (there will be a quiz later), I wrote two Christmas Shopping Guide #5 editions, so this is technically number 7. I never said I could count. Gosh.

So, on the way back from Pearl River tonight, Megan and I came to a full stop on I-12 before the Slidell mall exit. Eventually we saw that there was a big wreck, glass and junk all over the road. The cause of the accident? Weekend Before Christmasitis. People are flocking to the malls in droves. Not only is it inadvisable to go to the mall this weekend, it has been proven to be downright dangerous. We here at the Kerry Blog are here to help. Don’t go near the mall, instead go to Walgreens.

First, some history. When I was much younger and slightly less sarcastic and cynical, my family would make the trek all the way next door to my grandmother’s house on Christmas in the late afternoon (after visiting my mother’s side of the family i.e. the sane side). Not only could I expect one of my aunts to get get drunk on Crown Royal and ask someone to drive her to the liqour store, but it was also the time to see what my grandmother bought us the night before from K & B (when K & B Drugs still existed). My grandmother (who, by the way, gave all 3 of her daughters the middle name Ann) was not what you would call a planner. She was lucky if she remembered all of our names, much less bought Christmas gifts.

The highlight of the evening (besides when my aunt would announce that no one in the family ever really loved her and passed out — once in her car in the driveway) was opening gifts from my grandmother. The most interesting gift I remember getting from my grandmother (aka Mammaw Nextdoor) was a baby blue nightshirt in a matching drawstring bag. All 6 granddaughters got one, I was about 8. I believe it was also packaged with a roll of Lifesavers and no, they weren’t wrapped. In case you’re wondering, the most memorable gift I ever received from my alchoholic aunt was loose change packaged in a lovely purple Crown Royal bag, it was all kinds of inappropriate.

What is the moral of this story, you ask? Well, besides that it’s not a good idea to give kids money in a bag that once contained the very substance you’re wasted on, anyway. The moral of this story is that shopping at drugstores is a great alternative to the mall.

The drugstore for Christmas shopping? Hell yeah. What can you get at Walgreens? A whole lot of awesome, that’s what.

Let’s say you’ve waited ’til today to start shopping for Christmas for some reason. Maybe you’ve been working too hard or maybe you’ve just woken up from a month-long coma and need to shop for the whole family. Drive to your nearest Walgreens, get a cart and go directly to the cosmetics section. Did you know you can get all the brand name fragrances there? Walgreens has everything from Juicy Couture to Vera Wang (my fave) to Burberry — or Celine Dion and Britney Spears if you prefer.

Maybe your budget doesn’t allow for perfume. Maybe your family and friends would love something from the As Seen On TV aisle. Your sister would love a Ped Egg Pro for $9.99 and a Finishing Touch Lumina lighted hair remover to get rid of that unibrow. It’s never easy to tell someone that they have neglected their personal appearance. I find that holidays are the perfect time to let those close to you know these things with a gift. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a gift bag of deodorant, breath spray and nose hair trimmers.

I have a lot of crafty friends. Crafty as in making crafts, not cunning or devious — well, oh, nevermind. And if I know my friends, they will work on projects or scrapbook no matter the weather, time of day, nothing will stop these women. Chances are you know someone like this. Chances are you have someone on your list who will craft all night long ’til the break of dawn — even if the
power is out during a hurricane. If that should happen (and living where I live, it is likely), a hard-core crafter would need this. It’s the Craft Lite Cutter. Yes, it’s a paper trimmer. Yes, it lights up. In case you need to scrapbook or cut some sort of paper in the dark — clip coupons, Dear Abby columns from the newspaper, whatever. Now, it was not until I watched the commercial for this product that I realized cutting paper was was so difficult. You see, I have been fairly proficient at using scissors since I was 5, a child-prodigy if you will, I had cutting down pat. As an adult I have become quite adept at using all the various and sundry cutting tools, scissors, kitchen shears, hair cutting shears, nail clippers, several different craft knives, box cutters, cheese graters, glass cutter, pizza wheel, machete — I can cut virtually anything. Imagine my shock when I saw this commercial.

I had NO IDEA cutting paper could be such an issue for people. If I had known this I would have invented this product years ago. Now, I have no need for this since I have a Masters in cutting paper, but when I first saw the commercial I was across the room from the tv and I thought it was a paper trimmer with a laser. As a scrapbooker, a paper trimmer with a freakin’ laser would rock. Clearly, I am a scrapbook rockstar, but damn — I don’t have any lasers! What’s next? A fog machine? Awe yeah. I’ve long been convinced my friends and I need a tour bus for all of our paraphernalia. We typically take one vehicle to retreats, packed to the hilt with 4 -5 women, a million bags, snacks, and once — a margarita machine. I believe our stuff would rival any band’s gear and only one of us can sing. That would not be me. We definitely need a tour bus with our laser paper trimmers. Fiskars has come out with a trimmer which is also a dock for your iPod, fab idea. If it only had lasers and a fog machine… damn, that would rule. I would get one with flames painted on the sides and it would look way cooler than this —

Because although it is my favorite color, even though it would play my tunes, it doesn’t exactly say scrapbook rockstar, does it now? That’s what I thought. Butterflies? Surely you jest. Butterflies are for little girls and Mariah Carey. You can’t get the Fiskars Rock Paper Trimmer (that’s the real name, I know it sounds like something I would make up, but I can’t take the credit) at Walgreens. You may purchase it scrapbook.com for a mere $80 and it plays your iPod; the Craft Lite Cutter is $60 cheaper at Walgreens, but it only has a light. Sadly, there isn’t a paper trimmer with both features, but as the Rolling Stones sang, you can’t always get what you want.

If it’s stocking stuffers you’re looking for on Christmas Eve, I suggest hitting Walgreens for batteries. Trust me, as a mom of three, there are things I have learned — you need batteries. “Oh, but Kerry, I already bought batteries –” the hell you say, get yourself to Walgreens and buy some AA, AAA, C, and D batteries. There are few things worse than opening presents Christmas morning and finding some of those toys require batteries and you thought you bought batteries. While you’re at it, get some wire cutters, too. Exactly when did all toys come packaged with 4000 twistie-ties? My oldest child was born in 2001, at the beginning of the Era of Twistie-Ties. For those of you who had your first children after 2001, toys used to come in boxes and you could just open them and take out the toys. Now toys are packaged in a box, in clear plastic that must be cut open with a machete, tied down with twistie-ties and hell, if it’s a Barbie, her hair is sewn to the carboard, and you must free her as if she were a POW being held in Barbie prison.

So, got your list ready? Batteries, wire cutters, Ped Egg, Finishing Touch Lumina, Perfume, and the Craft Lite Cutter. It’s the weekend before Christmas, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

You know I hate owls, but…

Megan, Mandy, and I are cropping at the new store, Scrappin’ at the Castle in Pearl River today and look what I’ve done. Yes, I did an owl kinda theme for Molly’s pumpkin patch layout.

what the hell Friday: tech etiquette

I was reading the CNN site tonight at came across a Real Simple magazine guide to tech etiquette with questions and answers from "experts" in manners and etiquette and thought, really? What the hell? I'm polite and all, I don't need any experts telling me what's proper tech etiquette — I practically invented the subject. Y'all know I'm hopelessly addicted to gadgets, so I'm qualified, yo. So, here's the Kerry Blog Guide to Tech Etiquette.

1. You're walking down the street and listening to your iPod when
you run into someone you know. Do you need to remove both earbuds to
talk to her?

What the hell? Remove both earbuds to talk? It's like this, don't interrupt me while I'm listening to my jams. How do you know "Jungle Love" by Morris Day and the Mother Effin' Time's not on? You can't interrupt that! Dang, I might be groovin' to my theme song "Goody Two Shoes." Talk about etiquette, don't bother me. Text me like a damn normal person. And where I am going walking down the street? I have a car. I play my iPod in the car, and I can talk while I drive, so call me.

2. Is it rude to check your PDA at a friend's house?

The "expert" says to think of your PDA like a crossword puzzle and you can use it anywhere it would be acceptable to work a crossword puzzle. What the hell? Who's getting together and doing crossword puzzles with friends? Here's the Kerry Blog advice: if you need to access your PDA for something important like an email from your realtor or to check if you're winning the limited edition Hello Kitty personal massager on eBay or to watch the video of the monkey sneezing on YouTube — go ahead, knock yourself out. Your friend will understand. If not, refer her to my blog, tell her I said it's okay and I'm an expert.

3. How quickly must I respond to an e-mail? Are the standards different for work e-mails versus personal e-mails?

Hmm. That's a hard one. I would say — what the hell? I have stuff to do, I can't be emailing you back right away all the time. I might be busy blogging or talking to friends on FaceBook, something important like that. Unless you're emailing me something really funny, then I'll email back immediately. Now, if I emailed you — that's something completely different. I give friends half a day to email back and if they haven't I assume a) they are busy planning a surprise party for me, b) they've been injured in a horrible disfiguring accident and can't reply, c) I have said something to offend them and they're pissed. I'm paranoid, so what? Email people back, ok?

4. If someone calls you, can you e-mail the person back or send a
text message if you're not in the mood to talk? What if you text or
e-mail someone and the person calls you back?

I have to say, I don't have this problem because everyone always wants to talk to me. Now, if someone calls you, you should call them back. I have a bad habit of not listening to voice mails, but I do check the caller ID and call people back — unless I'm busy posing for the new Victoria's Secret catalog. If someone emails, you should email them back. And that brings up another point: how do you know when it's ok to not email someone back? You know, you get an email to ask what time you're meeting a friend for lunch, so you reply with the time, then they reply to your reply to say thanks — are you supposed email back to say you're welcome? That could go on forever. Have you ever gotten a thank-you note so nice that you thought "I should send a thank-you note back"? Same idea.

5. Is using BCC (blind carbon copy) on an e-mail considered sneaky?

Hell no! Is it sneaky to call up a friend after an event you both attended to talk about how whatshername was wearing those low-rise jeans and you could see her thong and she has no business wearing low-rise or thongs? Not in my book. Some things just need to be said. For instance, I received and email not long ago that was so ridiculously juvenile and mean-spirited that I had to share it with close friends. I thought about posting it on the blog, as a couple of friends suggested, but I was content just to show a select few what a pompous baffoon this individual was. Is that sneaky? No. Is it being ugly? Maybe. Did my friends and I make up a new nickname for this person and now refer to them by that name? Fo shizzle. When in doubt, follow the Kerry Blog Rules of Emailification.

    a) don't put anything in writing you wouldn't want to come back to bite you in the ass.
    b) if you're going to put things in writing you may regret later, use spell check for crying outloud.
    c) if you're going to put things in writing you may regret later, make sure you send it to the person you intended it for. Once in high school I wrote two notes to two different friends and passed them on the way to a pep rally, of course, being an idiot, I mixed them up. So, friend A found out what a beyotch I thought she really was and friend B thought it was pretty funny. If you're going to be snarky, get it right. For the record, beyotch was crazy and went off on me and we didn't speak after that. Moral of this story: if you want out of a bad friendship/relationship, mix up your emails — it may get a crazy person out of your life, on the other hand, she could go all Single White Female on you.
    d) once you hit send you can't get it back. Don't drink and email, don't email late at night, and don't email in anger.
    e) email is not to be used for any of the following: beaking up with your significant other, telling someone their dad is gay, asking if there's going to be weed at a party, asking if there will be an open bar, telling someone their cat died, telling someone you saw their mom at a bar and she was looking hot, asking if it's okay to ask your friend's mom out, telling someone you think their child has Asperger's, admitting to an addiction, admitting you have no idea how you got home last night, telling someone you knew their spouse was a cross dresser, telling someone you think you saw their neighbor on Dateline's To Catch a Predator, or asking your spouse if that dent in their car was already there.

Hopefully that will help some of you. If you read the last paragraph and said, "uh-oh," then maybe you should distance yourself from the Interwebs for a while. If you have any further advice, feel free to leave it in the Comments. As for me, it's 1:10 am, perfect time for some late night emailing. I think it's a great time to confess to a friend that I may or may not have seen seen pics of their spouse naked on the Interwebs.

Y'all have a good weekend.

holiday pet peeves: edition 5

After spending half the morning looking for my glasses, now I can see to blog.

The Christmas Letter in lieu of a perfectly fine card is something that annoys me to no end. I have friends who send these and I mean no harm, really, it's just the idea of it. Since I received the first of many Christmas letters years ago, I have pretty much hated the thought of them.

Last year at MOPS Convention, author Julie Barnhill echoed my feelings and spoke about it. She encouraged us to write a "reality Christmas letter" and I printed mine in our MOPS newsletter. I rather enjoyed that exercise in honesty. But for a moment, indulge me in what the majority of Christmas letters sound like. Let me give you an example, totally made up, by me.

Dear Family and Friends,

Holiday greetings from the Perfect Family! We hope this letter finds you well and in the holiday spirit. So much has happened this year and we'd love to share how great the Lord has been to us in 2008.

Back in the spring, John was promoted to Chief Officer in Charge of Everything Important with his company. Of course this came with a hefty increase in salary and the best parking spot in company parking garage where he parks his new hybrid Hummer that runs on only electricity and good thoughts. In the fall, John headed up the church mission trip to Timbuktu where he baptized nearly all of the indigenous people of the area and started a school for blind children and their seeing eye monkeys. I'm just so proud of him and all the good he's done! He even asked that I make a donation to the Foundation for Seeing Eye Monkeys instead of getting him a Christmas gift this year. He only thinks of others!

In case you didn't hear, Mary was valedictorian of her graduating class in May and is attending Juliard on a violin scholarship. We could not be more pleased. Unfortunately, Mary will be unable to come home for Christmas, as she has been selected to perform at Carnegie hall with Yo Yo Ma for the big Christmas concert. The concert will be televised on PBS as part of the annual "Christmas with the Prodigies" program. It's so nice that she is being featured a second time!

John, Jr is no slouch himself! He's the only sophomore to letter in football, baseball, basketball, and synchronized swimming in the history of Our Lady of Perpetual Perfection School for the Gifted.

And me? Well, it's the same old same old with me. Once again I chaired the annual Locks of Love Hair Raising Ball and set a new record for the most hair cut. It was quite a success, but you know I'm not one to brag. Next spring I'll be going back to school to complete my third Masters, this time in Marine Biology. I was so inspired when we took our vacation to Atlantis and swam with the dolphins that I just had to learn more about our friends in the sea! Going back to school will leave little time for my little hobby, showing champion Cavalier King Charles Spaniels. I must admit, I will miss going to Westminster next year, but I think little Prince Kajagoogoo Pumpernickle will miss the show even more!

Well, that's it from our little family. We wish you the happiest of Christmases and a blessed and bountiful new year.
The Perfect Family

I don't know about you, but stuff like that makes me want to throw up. Here's what the Kerry Christmas Letter would sound like.

Dear Friends and Family,

I'm sorry I'm so late in getting this out, hopefull you will receive it by the New Year. Anyway, Merry Christmas!

We've been so busy this year I've hardly found time to get this letter together, but I know how much everyone looks forward to our holiday updates, so I'm writing in a hurry. Where to start? Well, Scott is hard at work looking for work and doing little "honey do" projects around the house. Last week he attended a meeting for his professional organization where he won a gift basket of beer from around the world! I'm just so proud.

Molly is doing well in her second year of first grade. She failed the school eye exam and had to get glasses, which she loves. This year her much loved cat, Tinkerbell, ran away after we put her outside for a little bit when she jumped out at the kids on the stairs and scared them to death. Molly asks if Tinkerbell will ever come back and I always tell her there is always a chance, but I'm almost positive she has been eaten by something.

Our high-spirited daughter Katie is quite something. She's loving Kindergarten and is very fond of the cafeteria. We're working with her on her irrational fear of bears and smoke detectors, hopefully she will not need therapy to get over her phobias. And we're happy she's down to three or four tantrums a day and only telling me to be nice or Santa will not put anything in my stocking once a day.

The baby, 3 year-old Andrew, is working on getting potty trained, hopefully that will happen before the landfills are full of Pull-Ups. He is still not talking as much as he should be and we're enrolling him in speech as soon as the speech people call me back, which at this point should be sometime before he's 12. Of course, he may not be potty trained by then, so no one may notice his speech. Andrew is also working hard at destroying our home by painting the living room carpet yellow, writing on walls, and pouring tea on the sofas. He is so talented at deconstruction, I'm sure he will be an artist one day.

And me? Well, it's the same old same old. I tried Nutrisystem in my endless search of diets that work and lost one size in three months! I gave up my position in MOPS to have more time for ScrapFest! and the family, and I'm trying my best no to volunteer for anything for a while. Ironically, since I've decreased responsibilities, my medication has increased. Funny how that works.

Well, that's it from our little family. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy new year!
The Faler Family

That's more like it. That's wonderfully ordinary and truthful and I love that. I'd rather get a picture-card of your dog dressed as Rudolph than most of the Christmas letters I've read. And I hate those picture-cards of dressed-up pets. You know your dog thinks you're a moron when you put antlers on him and an elf hat on the cat. It's a good thing pets can't talk because there would be a lot of upset pet owners at Christmas time. That's all my pet peeves for today. I'm off to track some packages online, seems Santa isn't as fast as he used to be. Be good, peeps.

tunes you need Tuesday: the Cure for what ails you edition

Some call The Cure goth-rock, but they're far from that. Sure, there they are pros at the melancholy (of which I am a fan), but they've gone pop several times as well. I wanted to get that out of the way before diving into why I like them and what makes them a great band for those of you who may have dismissed The Cure as a mopey English band.

The Cure started out as The Obelisk way back in 1976 and won a recording contract as The Easy Cure in a talent competition in '77 (take that, American Idol). Their debut single, "Killing an Arab" was met with critical acclaim and controversy, which is always a great way to start out for a post-punk band. The first Cure song I remember hearing was 1979's "Boys Don't Cry" a perfect little song. I know I didn't hear it until the early 80's, but I knew I liked their sound. It was 1982 when the jazzy "The Lovecats" became a hit and it was the break The Cure needed. Three years later the singles "Close to Me" and "In Between Days" made them a European success and the US started taking note of the band. "Close to Me" is a great little song with horns and a fun sound — not depressing or sad at all like most people think of The Cure. Here's the acoustic version.

See? Not depressing, just fun. Love that and Robert Smith's voice is one of the wildest in the biz. You never know what to expect from him and that's something I love. The Cure isn't boring. Smith's lyrics are literary and introspective, passionate and sometimes silly. I suppose I'll touch on his look, the red lipstick and dark eye makeup, black clothes, and tennis shoes. I'm a fan of all those myself, save for the tennis shoes, but whatev. It works for him and he's had the same look for over 20 years. Maybe he could teach me how to do the smokey eye for an evening out, you never know.

If you listen to a few Cure songs you'll start to notice something that you don't find in many songs of the band's contemporaries — guitars! Yep, these guys like guitars, which are noticeably absent from their contemporaries music, save the Smiths. Robert Smith even has his own model, the Ultracure guitar. Utracure just sounds cool. The Cure are masters of incorporating lots of sounds from all kinds of instruments. I love the rich sound of their music, it's well organized, well played and they are great at playing practically every instrument in the music store and making it sound easy. Just on his own, Smith plays guitar, bass, double bass, violin, flute, trumpet, and keyboard. Now, I played violin back in the day — it's hard — in the wrong hands the thing sounds like a frozen cat going through a woodchipper. So, to play that many instruments and play them well is quite something.

Back to the music.

1987 was a big year for music and was big for The Cure as well. They released Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me and it was their first platinum album in the US. You may remember the singles "Just Like Heaven" and "Why Can't I Be You?" Those are superfantastic songs that are fine examples of how different The Cure's styles are — "Why Can't I Be You" is eclectic and uptempo with horns and a chaotic sound. Oh, and in the video not only is Smith wearing a bear suit minus the head piece, he also wears a black jumper, white button down, and black tie. I wore that same outfit in high school, not the bear suit, the jumper, tie, and button down shirt. Really. With wood and suede clogs. I was quite the snazzy dresser. And I fell down the stairs at Byrd High School many times due to those clogs. I blame Robert Smith.

The album Disintegration came out (have you noticed that now CDs "drop" — wtf does that mean?) in 1989 and became the band's biggest success so far. Songs like "Fascination Street," "Lovesong," "Pictures of You," and "Lullabye" all did well on the Modern Rock charts, which among all the titles given to the genre of music The Cure has been called, may fit pretty well. My favorite song of The Cure's is "Pictures of You" and it's a heartbreaking song. Here's the opening lyrics and the video follows:
"I've been looking so long at these pictures of you/That I almost believe that they're real/I've been living so long with my pictures of you/That I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel."

My friend Megan and I have a running joke, mainly when we're scrapbooking and take turns playing our iPods in the speaker-dock-thingie. It will be my iPod playing, a song will come on and I'll say "I love this song." Well, of course I do, it's on my iPod. Megan does the same thing. We're goofs. But — I love that song.

1992 brought The Cure's Wish album, which was their biggest hit. "Friday I'm in Love" was huge for them and it's a good song. Not my fave, but good. The years prior and after Wish brought big personnel changes for the band and now Smith is the only original member, kind of sad. In the years after Wish, The Cure released a few more CDs and their Greatest Hits in 2001 with the single "Cut Here," which is a favorite of mine. It's a song of regret and the theme is that "later doesn't always come" — I just love that, as a writer, as a person who loves words and expression. Here's some lyrics and the video for "Cut Here:"

But how many times can I walk away and wish "If only…"
But how many times can I talk this way and wish "If only…"
Keep on making the same mistake
Keep on aching the same heartbreak
I wish "If only…"

But "If only…."
Is a wish too late…

Ok, so that's a little Cure for your Tuesday. Hope you enjoyed it, if not maybe I'll hit on something you'll like next week. That's what's so great about music, there is much to be discovered and we can't all like the same things, but it's fun to listen. Y'all be good and I'll be back tomorrow.

stupid hormones

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holiday pet peeves: edition 4

Although my friends look to me as their own personal Kerripedia, I've never claimed to know everything — well, yes I have, but I was joking. Anyinfo, for some reason I know a lot of things about a lot of things, most of which are only helpful when playing Trivial Pursuit, not for any real purpose. And trust me, not useful for any type of work or occupation — I've had many and no one ever asked me who invented the zipper (Whitcomb Judson) or what year Abbey Road was released (1969) or who wrote "the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" (T.S. Eliot), but I can whip anyone's booty in Trivial Pursuit, as all my pursuits are fairly trivial. So, it's no surprise that I do know something about the Bible, being a Christian, having read it, sung hymns about it, and having heard roughly 2000 sermons on it.

And so here's what I do know. The book of Luke tells us Jesus was born during the the time of the census in Bethlehem and since there were no rooms to let, his mom, Mary, and his earthly dad, Joseph, laid him in a manger after he was born. An angel told some shepherds about the birth and they came to see baby Jesus. Eventually the wise men showed up and brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh; this is mentioned in the book of Matthew. Those are the main characters. That's all you need to know to make a decent nativity set.

What I want to know is why this simple but amazing and beautiful story is butchered by so many retail outlets? I don't know. Here's what I do know. Santa Claus was not at the birth of the Son of God. Shocking, I know. Let me break this down for you: Santa is not real, he was based on a 4th Century Greek Bishop named Nicholas, therefore St. Nicholas, Jolly old St. Nick, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, Papa Noel — whatever you want to call the man with the bag — he missed the birth of Jesus by a few centuries.

It annoys me to no end to see Santa and Jesus together. It's a huge pet peeve of mine to see that. I could do without Santa all together actually, because he never did anything for me and being that now he's just used as an icon for mass retailers.

Enough serious Kerry-talk and onto the absurd because I'm sure that's what you tuned into for today. I spent a whole 15 minutes on the Interwebs looking up weird nativity sets and I'll share them with you.

Here's as fine a scene as any to start with, the owl Nativity. Owls, as in Whooooo's your Savior? Owls are creepy weird-ass birds that have no place in my life or my nativity scene. Who thought of this? Really? Bizarre, to say the least. And an owl Shepherd? No, that's just stupid.

Wanna know what else is stupid? Any other animal representing Jesus and family.
Do we really need a dog nativity? Whether it's with real dogs or ceramic dogs with chiauau angels. And that golden retriever shepherd looks bored. Weird, man. The goose nativity I just don't understand. If they put Mary Goose and Joseph Goose in clothes, why not Jesus Goose? Maybe I'm putting too much thought into this. But I just can't help but think how on Earth would geese put on clothes? They're as bad as the creepy-city owls up there — the owls are even holding things. Owls have no hands, much less opposable thumbs.

But that's not as disturbing as a nativity set that's edible.

Why? Why would anyone want to eat baby Jesus? Talk about creepy. And I suppose Mary, Joseph, and the camel are all milk chocolate; the wisemen are dark chocolate; and the sheep, shepherd, and angel are white chocolate. Who made that decision? I wish I could have sat in on that meeting in the candy shop. "Well, I figure babies drink milk, so we make Jesus milk chocolate." I think whoever came up with this idea was at least partly a nutjob (not my word, that's what a mental health professional would say).

But if that's not weird enough, how about cookie cutters so you can make your own cookie nativity. I almost get this one, I see where this idea almost makes sense. You see, making cookies at Christmas is something moms and kids have done for ages, why not incorporate the story of Jesus' birth and make some yummy treats? Because it's just plain icky to eat Jesus!

Now, I have no problem if you just want to make your cookie nativity and decorate it like a gingerbread house, but please stop there. For realz, people. Don't go eating it even if it looks delicious. And this is me saying this — y'all know I love me some cookies, they are my weakness as kryptonite was to Superman (only Superman didn't eat kryptonite). Personally, I would not make this. But, if you're going to make the cookie nativity set, you might as well have the nativity kitchen timer. As you know, nothing says "it's Chirstmastime!" like baby Jesus and fam dinging to let you know your Jesus cookies are ready. I know a certain cake decorator I'd love to give this to for Christmas, as she was the inspiration for this post when she emailed me about the lovely baby Jesus and Santa that started me on the quest to find the tackiest nativities on the Interwebs.

Speaking of tacky, how about a ginormous inflatable nativity for your lawn? Now, I'm not the best with measurement, but I'm guessing this is 900 feet tall. Look at those children — they look like extras from the Munchkinland scene from the Wizard of Oz. It's funny, I recall Luke 2:11 saying "Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you," not "Today in the town of David a GIANT baby Jesus was born!" This is just creepy. Now, I must confess something here. Last Christmas my mother-in-law said she wanted to put a nativity set on her lawn and I went to work, searching high and low for this very inflatable monstrocity. Because when someone says "I'm thinking of getting a nativity," my brain goes "hmm, I wonder what the biggest, most obnoxious thing I could get would be?" That's how I am pretty much any time a friend or family member mentions something to me. I've never believed that "less is more" crap — hell no, more is more! I so wanted to set this up on her lawn for her to see when she came how from work and freak her out. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Who would have thought it would have been sold out everywhere within driving distance of Mandeville? Oh, bother.

Maybe you like your nativity on a smaller scale, say to fit on an end table. Maybe you're into aliens and stuff, well, here's an option. Yes, I know those are supposed to be lambs in the window, but they look like aliens to me. It could only be better if there were pink flamingos in the background which reminds me of our neighbors in Brunswick, GA who put up a sleigh with a green alien dressed as Santa being pulled by a few pink flamingos. Those were the days. And really, aliens have as much to do with the Christmas story as an obese old guy in a red suit. I'm just saying.

Let's get to the three nativity scenes that probably bothered me the most out of the bunch (and trust me, I left out a lot).

I find that nothing brings out the spirit of Christmas like a game of bean bag toss. This is a great way to teach the kids about Jesus. Everyone get a bean bag and throw it at the wisemen for 10 points! Why is it only 5 points for the slot above Jesus? Seems like that one would be worth more, maybe it's just me. You know a kid that plays this will one day invent the nativity slot machine with 3 wisemen in a row instead of cherries.

Here's the troll nativity. I have no words.

And I'm leaving you with the Celtic nativity. That's right. Celtic. Here's what the store blurb says, "Packaged in a
special keepsake box with the tradition of the Celtic nativity, this 6
piece cultural set is sure to become a cherished family heirloom as it
celebrates the sacred birth in Irish heritage." Say wha? The sacred birth in Irish heritage? Was Jesus Irish? Y'all, I'm a good bit Irish — I've done the research, my great (times a few dozen) grandpappy was the first mayor of County Cork, for realz. With all the time I've spent researching the geneaology and reading up on the history of Ireland, I can't believe I didn't know Jesus was Irish. Plus, the figures in this creep-city set are just busts and they're super weird. What's with the two-headed one? I think this is the worst offender in the bunch.

Okay, peeps, this is the longest post I've written in a long time, but there are a lot of pics that take up a lot of room. This post was a two day affair, started yesterday, worked on before church, and after lunch. And I have to say, at no time in the service today did our pastor mention aliens in the Christmas story or trolls or even the Irish. Next year I'll be releasing my own nativity scene with Barbie and Ken dolls, as well as one with superhero figures. Wonder Woman as Mary, Superman as Joseph, Green Lantern, Aquaman, and Flash would be the wisemen and Batman would be the shepherd. I'll have to find a tiny Superboy for Jesus, but don't worry, I'm on the case.

what the hell Friday: my thunder has been stolen

So, since yesterday was a snow day and I have been essentially trapped in my home with a feverish 3 year-old this week, I made a break for it and went to Target. What a great idea that was. Apparently everyone was thinking the same thing.

After getting tissue paper and tape, my Frizz Ease Secret Weapon (love that stuff), and milk, I made my way to the scrapbooking aisle as I always do. I can spot anything new on that aisle because I'm like a scrapbook hawk looking for prey. On first glance I saw nothing new, until some funky rub-ons caught my eye.

Y'all, someone needs to call the po-lice 'cause my thunder has been stolen. Some scrapbook company (I've already forgotten the name) has taken MY catchphrases and turned them into rub-ons. What the hell? Oh, I'm sure that will be on the next series of rub-ons! Damn. I say shut up! all the time. I've said it for years and I say it to everyone, it's like saying "oh, really?" or the equivalent, but with more chutzpah. This blew my little mind. I stood in the scrapbook aisle dumbfounded. This has to be the second or third time in the past month that I've thought, "ooo — I should make that a product!" only to find out it already exists in the retail market. As a conspiracy theorist, I'm sure either my van is bugged (b/c that's where I do most of my thinking outloud) or my iPhone is being tapped and someone is getting all of the fantabulous ideas I tell my friends.

So, if that weren't enough, I start flipping throught the little pad and find oh snap!, seriously, boo yah! and fo shizzle! What the hell? I am really the only person I know who uses all of those phrases on a regular basis and I KNOW I'm the only 34 year-old white chick who uses boo-yah! and fo shizzle in public. This is when I thought about calling the management over, but I knew that wouldn't help. So, I documented my findings and bought the rub-on pad for evidence. I plan on calling my tv boyfriend, Anderson Cooper, to get CNN on this story, 'cause I'm sure this is right up there with the recession, the auto bailout, and Linens and Things and KB Toys closing (and yes, for those of you in the know, my maiden name started with a B, hence Kerrybee, and when I was a kid I thought the store was named for me, made sense when I was 6). I would say I should start my own scrapbooking news program on the web, but I'm sure someone would take that idea, too. If the rub-on pad would have had for realz, whatev, and no big — I would have called somebody. Maybe someone's stealing my identity. Ha. I've got news for them, it ain't worth stealing.

So, on another note, Target now has little painted canvas plaques you can totally make yourself for maybe $4. I found one that may be my motto for 2009, c'est la vie. I don't know why I decided to make a self-portrait because as you know I'm not one to turn the camera around. Just kind of fitting today. And if I'm ever arrested, maybe they'll let me use this as my mugshot. And my expression goes with the expression, if you know what I mean. Yes, I'm wearing a ScrapFest! shirt. Y'all have a nice weekend. I'm hoping to get some rest and do something fun. You do the same.