Monday, December 26, 2005

wheezehackwheeze...Hang On a Sec...coughcoughcough...Okay, then.

Well, I hope you all had a great weekend! Mine went well, I think. Saw my wickedly funny and adorable second-youngest brother for the first time in almost five years, the stuffed shells were, of course, superb, my kids were happy, and I managed not to keel over into the cannolis, which, considering I woke up with the flu on Christmas Eve morning, is a huge accomplishment. I'm guessing that my little rendezvous with the porcelain yawp god the other night wasn't due to an overdose of cosmopolitans...Unless, that is, cosmopolitans induce high fevers, muscle aches, excruciating pain in the chest, severe cough and boogery head. Possible, I suppose, but highly doubtful.

I spent all Christmas day in bed, with the exception of opening presents at five a.m. (I'll bet you know that wasn't my idea), and making a huge turkey dinner. Watched a Woody Allen-a-thon on cable, ate Russell Stover chocolates (thanks, Ms. Olivia!), and generally just behaved like a giant sloth. I don't want to be sick for New Year’s Eve, people. I must not, can not be sick. There are many mad cow sticks to be consumed, bottles of champagne to chug, and I desperately need to get freaky with Lar. Which brings me to my short list of realizations:

Five Things I Realized While Lying Flat On My Back On Christmas Day

1) My stomach looks like a super model's when I'm lying flat on my back. I should go around life on a gurney, attend parties, the beach. I would wear the tiniest thong bikinis and low-rider jeans with pride.

2) I like Woody Allen movies. A lot. But I still think he's a gross little troll.

3) Russell Stover chocolates start to taste the same after the fifteenth, sixteenth piece. When I think I'm eating a coconut one and it's actually strawberry cream, I know I've had enough.

4) My kids don't care if I'm on my death bed. I imagine that when I'm lying in my coffin, finally at peace, at least one of my kids will nag me to resurrection.

5) My husband's body looks damn fine. Like, underwear model fine. Like, ohmygod-he- looks-better-than-I-do-and-I'd-better-start-working-out-more fine. I realized this while watching him change into workout clothes yesterday. He's only been training at the gym for two months, and already he looks like a slightly more mature Marky Mark.


Bastard.






Hope to be posting again soon, but if you don’t hear from me for a few days, it’s because I passed on. But don’t worry -- be assured that my kids will see to it that I don’t lie in state for very long.

ADDENDUM: Speaking of Ms. Olivia, she’s co-editor of a couple for-charity anthologies, Animal Magnetism,and Southern Comfort.

All proceeds go to Noah's Ark and American Red Cross.

Check those out, folks, and help in the continuing Katrina relief efforts while at the same time enjoying some excellent SF, horror and fantasy fiction and poetry.

7 Comments:

At 2:31 PM, Blogger Stephanie said...

I always feel so ambivalently about Woody Allen....sometimes his movies are sooooo funny, but sometimes he just makes me cringe.

 
At 4:37 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Eh, know what you mean, Stephanie...But when he's good, he's VERY, VERY good.

Too bad he's a gross little troll who married his step-daughter.

 
At 10:28 PM, Blogger G-Man said...

Your whole sick Christmas story cries out for legalized euthanasia!

 
At 11:22 AM, Blogger Vics said...

I wish my blokey had that kind of figure lol
after all that illness surely you've caught up on the figure stakes though - it's the only plus to being ill!

 
At 12:30 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

G-Man, I thank you for your concern and empathy. ;-)

Vics, I think the chocolates may have placed me last in that race, unfortunately.

 
At 3:39 AM, Blogger Deek Deekster said...

Lori: I like Woody Allen movies. A lot. And his trollness is for some simply a matter of record. But I wonder if you'd still think he's a gross little troll if you saw the interview with the happy couple that I saw. His wife seemed to be very much in control... or should that be, in conTroll... and actually Woody comes across not as gross and manipulative, but simply rather weak in this area. I do feel sorry for his outraged and lovely ex, but wonder what part she played also. surely, she must have had an influence after raising the child and being married to His Gross Trollness? these things are rarely strightforward, i delicately suggest...

Now I seem to be serious and complex about this- it's all the Woody Allen movies I have watched...

 
At 3:30 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Shut up, Deek, you big fat Woody lover.

But seriously...

Point taken.

 

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