Christmas is the time to say everyone is crazy.

I went back to NY for Christmas, and as usual it was one exciting event after another. I had a nice time, saw everyone from back home, and got some great gifts including an Ipod Nano, money, a free plane ticket, a laptop, new RAZR cell phone, the Norelco shaver I wanted, and even a script from Alias!
But I decided that I needed to keep track of some of the things I've learned from going back home. Enjoy.

Lesson #1 Dont buy a new refrigerator for my grandfather

So very shortly after I arrived home, the first fiasco began. One of my aunts decided to surprise my grandfather with a brand new fridge, delivered on Christmas Eve. Now if you know my grandfather, you know he doesn't like new things. Old things are perfectly fine for him. And usually,very very old things are even better, especially when it comes to food. Why throw something out if it's not physically making you sick by the odors or gasses come off of it? Depression era, I guess. It just never left him. So when the new fridge came (see below), he started screaming at the delivery guys that he didn't want to new fridge and his was perfectly fine. My other aunt and my brother finally convinced him to take it, but then he yelled at them and kicked them out. Haha you guys got booted! Anyway, he wouldn't let the delivery guys take the old fridge, because god forbid he lose out on yet another useless item sitting in the basement. So that's where he made them put it, down in the basement, where there's just about enough room for a tick to walk sideways through the hallway. It has joined several other refrigerating units down there from the past, and taken its rightful place in the basement museum of formerly used/identifiable goods.
And thus it began, my visit to NY for Christmas.

The door that had to be taken off in order to get the old fridge down in the basement.

Little did they know they would be yelled at and not tipped for this special Christmas Eve delivery. How wonderful for them.

The shitty old fridge that is now in the basement with the other old full size fridge and 2 full size freezers. Greeeeaaat! They don't need to get to the washer and dryer anyway.

Lesson #2 My grandparents will save everything and eat anything.

After the fridge fiasco was over, the next task was trasferring the food from the old fridge into the new one. Unfortunately we all left my grandfather unattended for this task, so he proceeded to transfer every single thing that was in that old fridge and freezer. In no time, the new fridge looked like the old one, stocked to the rafters with unidentifiable food from unidentifiable dates. So my brother started going through the freezer to eliminated anything past say, the expiration date. Oh, little did we know how daunting that task would be. Below are some of the things we found in his freezer. Keep in mind, now, this is the freezer that was in the upstairs kitchen...we're not even going to the fridges and freezers in the basement. That's like the land of the lost, and I wouldn't even dare open the door to that realm.

Item #1: Burgers of some kind...no date

Item #2: Bell-View Mustard...no date (anyone ever heard of Bell-View anything??)

Item #3: Cool Whip...June 2003. Not bad!

tem #4: Unnamed frozen bacon...November 2002. Alright now we're talkin!

Item #5: The winner! Frozen Cubed Ham...June 27, 2002! And look! Tasty Recipe Ideas!

The last straw was when my grandfather saw us taking "perfectly good" things, as he called them, out of the freezer, so he started salvaging as if he was grabbing things out of the repo man's hands. He took out a frozen container with no label and no date. Opening it for him was like being a kid at Christmas time. What could it be?! Oh I'm so excited! Well turns out it was badly freezer-burned fruit, put in there any time between one week and 3 years ago. He immediately spooned himself a bowlful:

Mmmm, yummy raspberries! On the bright side, at least he's got plenty of money saved up in the event that a series of tropical storms sweep across upstate NY, displacing the residents and destroying all frozen food for miles.

Lesson #3: Josh Groban is to my mother what heroin is to Courtney Love

For whatever reason, no matter how much she may be screaming or bitching at the time, all it takes is a little Groban on the stereo and she melts like Barbie doll in the microwave after 38 seconds (don't ask me how I know that).

Lesson #4: A strict diet of Christmas cookies and holiday candy does not help my efforts to stay in shape.

A particular weakness of mine, Strufolli. Essentially fried dough covered in honey. Sometimes they're called Italian Honey Balls, but I prefer to reserve that term for my private life.

Lesson #5: Dont walk around the house without slippers

He may look unassuming, but when he drinks out of his water bowl, a fantastic drool-water amalgam precipitates from his mouth for the next 20 feet as he walks. As a result, hardwood floors are perpetually slippery and carpets are often soggy. I've learned to pack flip flops when I go home specifically for this purpose.

Lesson #6: My neighbor becomes a bigger schmuck every year

Prominently displayed on our computer desk is the number for our town police, who apparently my mother calls frequently enough on our neighbor to warrant a quick reference sheet. He's always been crazy, putting an enormous flagpole, billboards, ship anchors, and spotlights in his front yard on display for no apparent reason other than to piss off my mother. I'm pretty sure he's single handedly responsible for the decline in real estate value by at least 20%. Anyway, recently he's decided that he needed a helicopter caliber searchlight in his front yard, which he pointed directly into our windows. He's also never been fond of the fact that we have a dog, who he thinks shits in his yard. It's not our dog, but nevertheless he's gone and purchased himself a pitbull who he leaves tied up outside just so my mother can't walk our dog out in the front (because my dog goes nutty at the sight of another dog and immediately tries to run over there to do doggy-type growling, sniffing etc.) except you can never tell what a pitbull will do so there's no sense in taking chances...did you know that many homeowners insurances won't cover you if you have a pitbull? Probably has something to do with their history of being selectively bred specifically to create the ultimate canine gladiator. Lovely. Thanks neighbor! So glad I get to go back home to white trash land now.

Lesson #7: Don't fight it. Just let the insanity and stress soak in. Live it. Love it.

My aunt Fran, conveying the appropriate expression for the holidays.

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The presents unwrapping ceremony quickly turns into a chaos of wrapping paper and gifts.

Lesson #8: Using Jiu Jitsu on a 7th grader is really easy!

It made me feel so strong. So much easier than the 220lb guys I have to go up against in class. But in reality, I was showing people how to use this choke hold, and just happened to get a willing subject. Don't worry, he only suffered minor injuries. He'll be fine =)

Lesson #9: We were once amazed by very simple things

I got my brother the Atari Flashback 2 for Xmas. It's an exact reproduction of the original Atari 2600, complete with 2 joysticks, but this time it's preloaded with 40 original games. This was hilarious. This particular Atari game involved aiming that cannon at the appropriate angle in order to shoot the little 10 pixel stick figure man out of it and have him land in the yellow bucket on stilts. And that's about it. When he misses the bucket, he hits the ground and turns into little pixels that say "OUCH". Haha.

Lesson #10 Staying up until 9am hurts my skull

So around 1am on the 26th (approximately the same time I was going to bed) my grandmother had unexplainable chest pains, so we brought her to the hospital for testing. After sitting in the hospital all night and all morning, we made sure she was fine, all tests were normal, and it was most likely due to beta-blocker withdrawal from her forgetting to take several doses of her heart medications. Funny thing about those heart pills...you have to take them in order for them to work. But all is well, and she's back home now. I got to bed at around 9:30am, but got up an hour later to see my dad who was good enough to drive 4 hours up to see me since I won't be around for new years. We hung out for the afternoon, had a good meal, I played really shitty billiards, and then he drove back that same day. I got about another hour nap in that evening, and got to bed around midnight after packing all my shit. I then got up at 3:45am to make my flight back to SD, where upon my connecting flight in Detroit ( of all places) was delayed THREE HOURS because the damn stewardess...oh I'm sorry, flight attendant, was sick. I guess you can't have a flight without at least 2 "attendants". I offered to take her place just so we could get the hell out of Detroit. But apparently saying "hello", "goodbye", talking through a PA, doing a seatbelt demonstration, and handing out Diet Coke is a highly trained set of qualifications which not just any person can attempt without proper training and credentials. So there I sat until they were able to find a replacement beeotch. We finally get to board several hours later, where upon I get to lucky seat number 16A and find out I'm sitting next to, are you ready?....a 2 year old girl...with Down Syndrome. Now, nothing against the Down folks, they're perfectly capable people and darn good actors on 80's family dramas. But the last thing I needed on a 4 hour flight was a kicking, squirming girl whose father refused to take the middle seat and put her near the aisle...according to him, he needed the leg room of the aisle. I told him that was fine, but that I was a violent sleeper, and couldn't be held responsible if I turned in my sleep and accidentally duct taped the girls mouth, hands and feet. I'm sorry, do I sound bitter? Normally I love kids, but on 5 hours sleep in 2 days, I wasn't exactly in paddy cake mode. At least the weather was awesome when I got back to SD.
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I know how ya feel, bunny.

Watch out for high tide

Because of all the crazy storms going on up on the north coast of California and Oregon, we're getting some side effects down here in SD. HUGE WAVES! And warmer temperatures for some reason as well. It was almost 80 yesterday, so I went to the beach, where traffic was insane because apparently everyone else had the same idea as me. Hundreds of people were gathering near the piers to watch the high tide and larger than normal waves. Everyone was taking pictures (including me), and some people weren't paying attention to the Lifeguard's warnings over the megaphone to stay away from the water. The waves were huge, but also the tide came in quite strong at times, surprising many people and even knocking them down and dragging them 20 feet. Some poor old man was too busy looking through his camera and experienced the same fate. 3 people had to run and help him out of the water, he was soaked, and his digital camera was ruined. But I say that's what you get for ignoring the megaphone and signs that tell you to stay away from the water! Enjoy.

Here's a shot of what the pier normally looks like. Low tide, lots of fishers chillin with their rods.

Hmm, now's probably not the best fishing day.

YEAH! I won't be walking out there today.

From farther away. I'm scared.

All the people standing on the makeshift sand wall the lifegaurds made. Take a look at where the water is right now...the tide would come in so strong at unexpected and random times that all those people on the beach would get hammered by waves and the people on the wall would have to run backwards. It was funny. You'll see how far the water comes up in a minute. And in case you can't read it, that sign says "Stay Clear". Riiiight.

See, I told you. Once the water started crashing into, over, and through the sand barriers, people began to realize why the lifegaurds were yelling at them. Don't mess wit nature, bitches!

You can see the helicopter looking for idiots who tried to surf in this shit.

Some holiday drinkin at the boss's house

So we went to my boss Deb's house yesterday for our department's Christmas party. Watched some football, had some drinks, ate tons of food, exchanged some gifts, drank some more, ate some more, then drank a little bit. Deb's house is the most Christmas crazy place on earth. Everywhere is Christmas decorations, Christmas lights, even motorized figures and light-up Frosty toilet bowl covers. Yeah you read that right. From floor to ceiling, including walls and drapes, this is the North Pole. We all had a great time, and I wound up leaving with Family Guy shot glasses, woo hoo!

The badass department. Aileen, Deb, me, Summer, Winfield, and Bryanna. Don't mess wit us, bizznotch. Damn we're retarded. And drunk. And retarded. But fun!

The 12 ft. tree in their living room

Our party fridge on the back patio

Backyard by the pool, with the fire pit off the patio.

The ultra-festive living room off the kitchen. The 50" plasma doesn't hurt, either.

Aileen and Summer, on their way to being drunk.

Mmmm, Deb knows how to entertain!

Aileen, opening up her giganto sunglasses. Gag gift, of course, which Deb eventually stole, presumably for her kid.

Deb, enjoying her party gift pack.

Drinkin up.

Bryanna and her excellent Xmas gift of a book about beers and "beer bands", little bracelets you wrap around beer bottles or cans to identify your beer. They come with phrases on them like "slut" and "blitzed" to make each beer specially personal. I bought that. She loved it.

Aileen and Winfield, showin the goods (in their mouths, of course)

A somewhat blurry, yet cool, picture of the festive backyard out by the pool.

You can thank Winfield for desecrating the family friendly nature of Rudolph. Yes, that's a cigar.

A Lie By Any Other Name

Finally, the time has come to re-evaluate our nation’s system for ranking and keeping secrets. The old categories like “Top Secret” and “Eyes Only” are clearly in need of an overhaul. That’s obvious. So many of the closely-held tidbits locked beneath pages of “Top Secret” reports have proven to be utter bullshit.
Enter the Federation of American Scientists, who have made it their mission to keep a wide eye on the government’s shenanigans of late. And yes, they’ve been busy since Dubya was inaugurated five years ago. With the federation’s help, the old order of secret classifications is wiped clean in favor of the new. I think the “Futile,” “Stupid,” “Bullshit,” “Confusing,” “Pathetic” and “Ludicrous” distinctions finally do justice to our intelligence agencies.
These dandy new intel handles are offered up in sharply formatted, digital fax cover sheets — all the better for when the intel this government produces is not only not worth the paper it’s printed on, but barely worth wiping with. Go FAS!

You'd like to sit down? That'll be $550 please.

So my holiday party for work was this past weekend. They decided that since last year they went the conservative, safe-yet-elegant route of having the party at the Hyatt on the bay, this year they would appease the younger employees with a super "hip" shindig at the brand new bar downtown called the Stingaree. Our party was pretty exclusive, in the sense that we reserved the 1st floor of the very large bar from 6-9pm, and at 9 they were opening the doors to the general public for the first time ever. So we got a nice taste of this place, which is 3 floors: a ground floor with huge bar, waterfalls, seating booths, etc., a mezzanine which overlooks the 1st floor, and a top floor outside rooftop, complete with another large bar, private cabanas, private booths, more waterfalls, and a fire pit. We had a great time when the place was to ourselves, not counting the fact that drinks ranged from $7 to $19 depending on what you asked for. This place is obviously making every attempt to be the premiere, exclusive, high end bar/club in Southern California. Barring the overpriced drinks, the food was delicious, ambiance fantastic, and DJ excellent. Overall a nice time, especially since we spent a majority of the evening up on the roof in one of the private cabanas. Since we were the only people there, they didn't seem to mind us inhabiting one of these "exclusive" reserved locations, since it wasn't until 9pm that they started charging for them. Going rate? 2 bottle minimum, $275 per bottle. And that's the cheap liquor. Needless to say they booted us from the cabana as soon as the rich and trendy people started showing up at 9 o'clock. I can't believe they actually paid that much to sit there. And keep in mind, for that price you get not a single sexual favor...not even for the $2000 VIP card you can buy, which grants you instant access and 10% off all future tabs. The sidewalk outside the entrance was lined with Lamborghinis, Ferraris, sugar daddy's, hoochie mamma gold diggers, and filthy rich trust fund kids (I watched from the rooftop as one guy, no more than 28, pulled up and got out of his yellow Lamborghini Gallardo) waiting to get in. More open-collared shirts, chest hair, and silicone than I've ever seen outside of Hollywood. The likes of Junior Seau and David Justice, among others, were also there. Star studded, spectacular, and WAY out of my price range. Many of us either just went to the dance floor or left once it started getting crowded. The worst part is that the bar ropes off ALL seating on ALL 3 floors unless you reserve it (minimum $550 for any booth or cabana), so if you're poor, or just sensible, you have to stand. It was a really cool place to experience, but trendy is an understatement, and with a $20 valet fee, $20 cover charge, and a Grey Goose and vodka going for $18.50, I'm glad I got to go for the Holiday party cuz my broke ass won't ever be back there.

Aileen, me, and Summer in our mack daddy pimp master $550 cabana and $14 martinis.

Stacie's husband Derek (who has an inability to properly smile for photos), Stacie, and Aileen

Derek (with yet another picture-posing problem), Stacie, me and Summer

Very chic. Very new-millenium.

Cigars are the new crack!

San Jose is remarkably less exciting than Vegas

So we went to Vegas last weekend, where I promtly won $80 in blackjack, then blew it all on hookers and booze. Oh wait, nevermind. I think I've mistaken me with, well, every other person in the city. But I digress. My point here is that I'm in San Jose right now, going through a week-long training seminar for work. The training itself is mediocre at best, but it's our trainer that never ceases to maze me. She's a bit loopy, talks weird, uses her hand wayyy to much when she talks. Sometimes I think she's going to throw something at me when she gets so excited about emphasizing a point (which, by the way, is rarely as exciting as she thinks). In addition to all these wonderful qualities in the person I have to look at and listen to for 8 hours a day, she uses words like "laborisome", "bloody", and "mute". Now you may be thinking, "Well 'laborisome' is obviously not a word" (or at least I hope that's what you're thinking, cuz it's not) ..."but mute is a proper part of the English language, what's wrong with that?" What's wrong is that she uses it in her attempts to signify a moot point, which when used and pronounced correctly, signifies something as being of no proactical importance or relevance. So not only does she say things like "Don't worry about that bloody program, it's a mute point for you guys....if you tried to work with it you'd find it much to laborisome anyway". And bloody is just not a necessary word when you live in the United States...unless you live in Detroit, but that's a whole different usage. Needless to say I find it very difficult to avoid kicking her in the skull. Or at least shoving a pencil through mine. So we've made it a point to keep track of her grammer usage, and right now the score is Mute: 15, Bloody: 10. Bloody still has some time to catch up today, but I feel with so many mute points being made during this training, it's a shoe in to take the trophy. Luckily we only have 2 hours left for the training, so the end of the tunnel is in sight. Wish me luck; I'll be back in SD tomorrow night.

p.s. I want this for Christmas:
http://www.drugstore.com/products/prod.asp?pid=94466&catid=49223&aid=280302&aparam=df5628