O Golden Fake Tree That Lights My Heart

We have a new Christmas tree. Wait, don’t worry! I am not going to make you nauseous like I did last year!

Our old tree’s box busted at some point during the summer, spilling out the fake tree parts on our very dusty garage floor. We had been using the tree for probably ten or so years, so we decided to use this dirty opportunity to get a new one.

As a child I remember my family having real Christmas trees, and eventually replacing the real ones with a fake one. I was probably pretty young when the switch happened, so I’m kind of used to it. MizSplotchy, on the other hand, always had a real tree before she and I moved in together. Maybe someday we’ll go back to having real trees — I remember being fond of the smell, though one could always leave an open bottle of Pine-Sol out, I suppose.

If we were going to replace our fake tree with another fake tree, MizSplotchy said she wanted to have a pre-lit one. So, we packed up the kids and went to the center of all that is holy, Target. There I spied a golden Christmas tree, and gave her a smile. If we were going to have a fake tree, why not get a glaringly fake one? So, that is what we did.

The lights on our golden tree are all white (they were white on all the pre-lit trees we saw), which I was just a little bummed about. I had forgotten how much I like colored lights.

Still, once the tree was home and the decorating began, I got happy tingles up and down my spine. It was really nice watching the kids put ornaments on the tree (all clustered together in one section, of course).

We were talking about what we should do for dinner on decorating night, and MizSplotchy suggested we order pizza. She said we had ordered pizza the last two years we had decorated the tree. A tradition was born, and I didn’t even know it!

Of course, we had to put on the Vince Guaraldi Trio’s A Charlie Brown Christmas as musical accompaniment to the decorating. I still have yet to see the actual TV special, but after being introduced to the album by MizSplotchy, Christmas ain’t Christmas without it.

The golden tree definitely has a different aesthetic quality than a green one. For one, I think it goes smashingly with our zebra-ish drapes in the living room. Red looks really great on it — probably one of my favorite things now is how the little fabric bows we hung stand out against the gold. Of course, there are some down sides. With such a blingy tree, the blinged-out ornaments we have aren’t so spectactular. Sorry, disco ball ornament.

Anyways, here’s our tree. We still haven’t put the star on top, but other than that, it’s pretty much done.

Merry Disco Xmas!

The Story Virus Continues

I have been reinfected!

The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn’t prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me. (Splotchy)

Its owner, a fat shifty-looking hillbilly, slouched uncomfortably under the weight of his Bulgarian army surplus wool coat and cap. I could tell he wasn’t cut out for this weather. He jerked around, almost spastic, when he felt the box tap against his feet. He gulped and stared at me bug-eyed, one obscene rivulet of sweat running down his temple, down along his jaw, finally disappearing somewhere between his second chin and the fake fur collar of his coat.

Right away, and for no good reason, he pissed me off. (Bubs)

He would not stop staring at me. I could hear his wheezing breath. I could smell every stinking minute of his sputtering life. My muscles tensed.

We were a little isolated from the rest of the riders. I looked around. Apart from a couple greasy-looking hippies stealing glances in my direction, everyone was in their own dazed world. Another rivulet of sweat began the long journey down the hillbilly’s fat face. He licked his lips.

Enough was enough. I shot my arm up and popped him right between the eyes, snapping his head back. He slumped forward. I felt my anger slowly recede. I reached over him, took the cap off his head and placed it on my own. It smelled like a slaughterhouse, but it would keep me warm.

In the corner of my eye, I noticed the hippies making their way over to me. The man, wearing a dirty poncho and sporting a handlebar mustache, sat down in my seat. I reflexively scooted over to not have him in my lap. The girl, a smallish brunette wearing heavy black eyeliner and a shapeless green coat, sat behind me.

“You see, Snow?” the man said. “I knew he was the one. Did you see that jab?”

“Whatever,” Snow said.

“That was great, man. Snow thought the guy in front of you was the one.”

He must have spotted confusion in my eyes. “We saw the box, but we didn’t know if it was yours.” The man smiled broadly. “I’m Rain. You’re Leaf, right?”

I looked at him more closely. He was wearing a shoulder holster under his poncho. He had deep green eyes that were sharp and serious. The smile left his face as abruptly as it had appeared. “You better get the box ready.” (Splotchy)

Please continue this story virus!

I tag:

McGone
Manx
SamuraiFrog (Yes, I am tagging you again)
Jin
Cowboy the Cat
Allen L
Bubs (right back at ya)

Blogger Album Project

Ow, tagged!

(Amended) Rules and Regulations:
1. Post your list of the seven best albums, the blogger you will tag, a copy of these rules, and a link back to this page.
2. The person tagged will put a URL to their Blogger Album Project post along with a list of the seven best albums in the comment section here.
3. Feel free to post the “I Contributed to the Blogger Album Project” Award Graphic on your sidebar, along with a link back to this page (where you can see the original rules).
4. Post a link back to the blogger who tagged you.
5. Sorry, no Manilow.

1. The Feelies, The Good Earth

2. James Brown, In The Jungle Groove

3. Wire, Pink Flag

4. Bo Diddley, Bo Diddley

5. Curtis Mayfield, Curtis

6. Frank Black, Teenager of the Year

7. The Method Actors, Little Figures

I tag Matty Boy!

Son Of The Son Of The Story Virus (v3)

Ooooh, it’s cold outside. I don’t feel so good. I think I am coming down with another story virus.

For those unfamiliar, here’s a recap:

Here’s what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don’t know how realistic it is, but that’s what I’m aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out.

If you are one of the carriers of this story virus (i.e. you have been tagged and choose to contribute to it), you will have one responsibility, in addition to contributing your own piece of the story: you will have to tag at least one person that continues your story thread. So, say you tag five people. If four people decide to not participate, it’s okay, as long as the fifth one does. And if all five participate, well that’s five interesting threads the story spins off into.

Not a requirement, but something your readers would appreciate: to help people trace your own particular thread of the narrative, it will be helpful if you include links to the chapters preceding yours.

There always has to be a start of a story, so here it is.

***

The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn’t prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me.

***

Please continue this story virus.

I tag:

Randal G
Jess
FranIAm
Freida Bee
Becca
Dr MVM
Bubs
Rider
p0nk
Vikkitikkitavi
Liberality
Some Guy
Doc
Snape
DCup
Skylers Dad
Falwless
Grant Miller
SamuraiFrog
Flannery Alden

jung vf fcybgpul?