Lange Gang Christmas

All families have their own quirky holiday traditions. On the scale of "weird families" ours falls somewhere between the Bluths from Arrested Development and the Griswolds. Our traditions include: playing Christmas Bingo, drinking heavily, and the annual performance of the "Christmizzle Rap" Caitlin and I wrote in 2002. This year, we decided to mix it up a bit.

The crazy antics started when my Aunts decided that we all needed to wear hideous Christmas attire that they purchased from the local thrift store. No, the hat isn't part of the aforementioned hideous Christmas attire, it was part of my normal outfit for the day.

Matt got to wear a women's shirt with shoulder pads. I ended up with a strange rash on my neck/chest area after wearing that sweater.

Group shot:

The next day, Kelby and I discovered a new source of fun. We charged up the old Jazzy scooter my aunt used when both of her legs were broken. The scooter was fun for about five minutes, until we all started fighting over it. But since it was Christmas, we decided to be nice and take turns, each going for a spin on the scooter while talking in Stephen Hawking voices.

Caitlin riding the scooter (moments before she ran over Kelby's foot):

Kelby giving Buzz a ride on the scooter:

Our last form of entertainment was going through the stuff found in Kelby's room. My parents just got done "gutting out" (their words, not mine) Kelby's room aka "The Dungeon" (also not my words), and they found some great stuff. The best finds were: the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie soundtrack on cassette, the voicechanger (a microphone-like device that you speak into and it changes your voice to sound like a robot, baby, or monster), a realistic-looking ceramic toad, and some great clothes.

Here's Kelby modeling the safety gear found in his room:

We tried to get him to wear this clip-on tie to the bar. It would have really classed-up the joint and he would have impressed the ladies.

Also, I have a video of Kelby chugging a margarita in less than 8 seconds that I will post later. Mom and Dad were so proud! In reality, they yelled at us for laughing at him, then warned us of the dangers of alcohol poisoning.

What are your holiday traditions?

Knitting Porn aka cute overload

Aren't these the cutest little knit birds you've ever seen?

They are actually baby rattles, but I still LOVE them.

I also think the knit sock monkey "Clementine" is freaking adorable.

All of the stuff on that site is handmade, and super cute. I love the colors they use, and hope I can knit that well someday.

Four more days until Christmas

A coworker of mine commisioned some scarves for her daughter and daughter-in-law for Christmas, so here are the finished products:

I knit the body of the scarf, and crocheted the flowers. I backed them both in fleece for added warmth, and sewed on a snap to fasten it.

She asked me to make the scarves after seeing my Anthropologie knock-off. This is the Anthropologie scarf, which was over $100.

It looks a lot nicer than mine, but I think my effort was good:

Sketchy Santas

This site is hilarious.

Weekend Update: Christmas edition

This past weekend Matt and I almost finished our Christmas shopping. While we didn't get any gifts at the mall, we had a fun time there. The best moment was when we heard a man ask his young (5-6 year-old) daughter, "Who is this Lady Ga Ga person you keep talking about?"

Unfortunately we also heard an old guy let out the loudest public fart I've ever heard. We got out of that store fast.

The only stuff we got at the mall was two pair of much needed jeans for me. I had to get a size larger than usual and spent more than I wanted to on them, but I was having a very hard time finding jeans long enough for my gangly legs. As many of you readers probably know, I do not like to buy things unless they are on sale and deeply discounted. Call me a cheap ass, but I like a good deal! I was a bit disappointed about the size, but I guess I can't expect to remain the size I was when I was 18. Growing old sucks!

We ended up getting all of our gifts at stores outside the mall, and I think the recipients will be very happy. I also spent quite a bit of time using my Photoshop skills to create some hilarious (in my opinion) gifts, which will be posted after Christmas.

Here comes Santa Claus

As a child, I was always afraid of Santa. Call me a wuss, but I think I had good insticts. Think about it...
Reasons why Santa was/is creepy:
1. "He sees you when you're sleeping; he knows when you're awake." It's scary/disturbing when anyone watches you in your sleep, let alone an overweight dude wearing a fake beard. And does he see me when I'm going to the bathroom? That's embarassing.
2. He's invincible. There is no way to kill Santa.
3. He's exempt from the law. Ever heard of breaking and entering?
4. A lack of chimney doesn't stop him. He'll find a "magical way" to get into your house.

For those reasons (or maybe I was just scared), I would never sit on Santa's lap. Here's my mom's memory of Christmases past:
"My kids would never sit on Santa's lap. Brianna would stand about 3 feet away and yell her wishes. Kelby would stare at him and Caitlin would scream the whole time."

That doesn't surprise me. I've always been a screamer. But what was up with Caitlin's high-water pants? Mine were probably high-water, too, since it appears that I had them pulled up to my armpits. Hey, it was the 80s.

For another example of a creey Santa, I recommend reading David Sedaris' essay "Six to Eight Black Men."

"Listen, you might want to pack a few of your things together before you go to bed. The former bishop from Turkey will be coming along with six to eight black men. They might put some candy in your shoes, they might stuff you in a sack and take you to Spain, or they might just pretend to kick you. We don't know for sure, but we want you to be prepared." --David Sedaris

Don't make up lies or I will be forced to be an asshole to you.

I just called out a total stranger on Facebook for being a LIAR. A girl who worked with me at the library in S.C. posted a note mentioning how she met a girl named “de'Lishus,” and one of her friends responded “While I was in Rock Hill, I met two brothers named Lemangelo and an Orangelo (after their parents favorite dessert), a Fema'le and.... a Shithead.”

I then responded to the guy (who I do not know) that those were all names from a chapter in Freakonomics.

Why can't I let things go? I've stopped correcting people's grammar, but if someone says something that is obviously wrong, I can't help it. The stupid guy was probably just trying to get laid by throwing out some "fun facts," but he would have impressed her more if he told her he read it in a book, instead of claiming he actually knew the people.

(photos and names have been blacked out to protect the innocent--or ignorant in the stupid guy's case.)

Here's a copy of the page, courtesy of Amazon.com:

Annoying toys: Do you hear what I hear?

There is an unwritten rule that you must give your young nieces and nephews the most annoying gifts you can think of for all holidays and birthdays. The joys of annoying gifts are twofold: a) you get to dole out sweet revenge on your siblings, and b) it makes you popular with their offspring because annoying toys are usually fun.

Characteristics of annoying toys include (but are not limited to): toys that make loud noises, toys with intricate parts that only adults can figure out, crafts that encourage messiness, toys that move (including robots and remote controled toys), toys with flashing lights.

Here are some examples of past annoying gifts:
1. When my brother was young, our Aunt Robynn gave him a fire helmet with two annoying characteristics. It flashed brightly and had the loudest and most annoying siren. Kelby loved it, my parents hated it. I'm pretty sure they took the batteries out. Annoying gift score: B+ (because it wasn't so annoying without the batteries).
2. For our niece's third birthday, we gave her a princess outfit. While that gift seems innocent enough, she was starting preschool the next day, and Matt said, "You should wear that on your first day of school!" She didn't want to take it off, and tried wearing it everywhere. Annoying gift score: B-.
3. My mom gave my cousin Lauren a drumset when she was four. Enough said. Annoying gift score: A

4. In the early 90s, my Aunt Lani and Uncle Rod gave us an original Nintendo. The Nintendo was great fun (and still is), but was always a point of contention. Many fist-fights were started because there were three children, but only two players. To this day Caitlin blames her lack of video game skills on Kelby and I, since we never let her play. Annoying gift score: A-
5. I was the recipient of the best annoying gift: a keyboard with a microphone and tape deck. I'm sure my parents regretted giving me the gift the moment I learned how to play Backstreet Boys' songs and decided to write my own versions to annoy Caitlin, who loved BSB. I'm sure somewhere in my parents' house there is a cassette tape with my breakout hit, "I'll Never Make You Fart," a cover version of "I'll Never Break your Heart." The keyboard made a comeback last Christmas, after Caitlin and I had a few cocktails. It's the gift that keeps on giving--the gift of beautiful music, that is. Annoying gift score: A+

This Christmas I put the "annoying toy" notion aside, and tried to focus on getting fun toys that the kids will enjoy--bonus points if they happen to be annoying.

The Playskool Busy Ball Popper was listed as one of the best toys for our niece Kirin's age group, so I took a look at the reviews.


One parent said, "The music is annoying and loud. I would describe it as high pitched anime characters saying "yeah" over and over. The music actually stresses me out, and the balls flying everywhere stress my boy out."

I immediately put it on my shopping list. One kid down, one to go.

I have been wanting to buy Adisyn (the three-year-old niece) a Sit 'n Spin for a while, because I remember it being such a fun toy. Imagine my delight when I found out that they make a MUSICAL Sit 'n Spin!

One of the reviews said: "The only complaint I have ever had about this toy is that there is no way to stop the music once you press the button; you just have to let the tune finish."

Perfect! I think this will be the best Christmas ever.

Mr. Einstein

I realized today that I've never blogged about my step son. No, Matt didn't father an illegitimate child, but he did adopt a vicious/evil/awesome cat several years before we started dating.

Meet Mr. Einstein:

He's a little cutie, but don't let that picture fool you--he's sort of a bastard. After living for years with a bachelor and learning to fend for himself, Mr. Einstein developed a hard exterior towards the outside world.

Einstein, or "Little Buddy" as Matt likes to call him, liked to bite, scratch, and cause general mischief. Everyone who has met him has a favorite Mr. Einstein story. Once, he jumped into Matt's fridge and wouldn't get out. Matt kept reaching in to pick him up, and but Einstein kept fighting back, weilding his sharp claws. So Matt did what any parent would do. He left him in there to think about what he did. Before you call the ASPCA/Humane Society, remember that Einstein was only in the fridge for a day or two couple minutes before Matt let him out.

After college, Matt was deemed an unfit parent and Einstein was made a ward of the state. He went to live with Matt's parents, who decided to de-claw him in order to ensure their own survival. Matt's brother Russ has a scar near his eye from when Einstein decided to wake him up with a paw to the face.

Matt loves to tell the story of how he once ran out of cat litter and had to use oatmeal instead, but Einstein didn't care. "He liked being a bachelor," says Matt. This past summer Einstein proved he is not picky when it comes to doing his business. When Matt's sister Katie moved to New Jersey, she cleaned out her two cats' litter box and put it by the back door. Einstein needed to use the restroom, and went in the empty (and formerly clean) litter box.

Matt also claims that if Einstein bites you, you don't need medical attention because his saliva is the H1N1 vaccine, but that's neither here nor there. (He likes to make up his own Chuck Norris-esque jokes about Mr. Einstein.)

Perhaps the funniest thing about Mr. Einstein is the fact that he is a complete sociopath, but loves being around people. If you try to pet him, he will bite you. He will rub up against your leg and look into your eyes with a cute expression, but the second you reach down to pet him he will feast on your flesh. And if there is a room of people he is always in the room, unlike the other two cats who prefer to hide in the bedrooms.

If you don't pay attention to him, he will break things. The other day, Matt and I observed that every time we talk to his parents on the phone someone in the background says "Einstein, you little fucker," or "Damnit, Einstein!" or some variation of curse words + Einstein.

That is why we were so surprised when he did this during our last visit:

He sat on Matt's lap, and did not bite when Matt pet him. Is he finally coming around? Has he forgiven his father? Einstein, just remember: Matt didn't give you up; he gave you better.

Christmas Crafts

It is time for my holiday crafts to begin, or as Matt calls it, "Brianna's sweatshop." I know I should wait until school is over for the semester, but I can't help myself--I'm on a knitting frenzy.

I've already started the gift for my sister-in-law (hopefully she doesn't read this blog). I am making her a pair of convertable mittens. I have the glove part done on one, and need to add the mitten top. This is the first time I've actually used the recommended yarn in a pattern, and it's only because I bought it in a kit. Regardless, I like the colors and I hope SIL does too.
This is what mine looks like:

This is what it will hopefully look like when it's done (from the pattern's website):

I also want to make hats and mittens for the nieces. Here's a pic of Kirin wearing a hat I made Adi when she was a baby:

I saw this hat (below) at Baby Gap, and I think I'll try to replicate it for Kirin, but in different colors:

I also liked these items from Gymboree:

knit hat:

mittens:

knit jumper:

And this hat from Anthropologie:

And this Anthropologie headband:

Or, maybe I'll stop being lazy and come up with my own designs instead of copying stores' stuff.

100 Blogs of Solitude

I haven't blogged in a while, because this is the 100th post and I wanted it to be meaningful. After waiting nearly two weeks, I decided that I'd just blog about whatever I wanted instead of waiting for something amazing. I did, however, find this amazing photo:

From the accompanying article: "An iron-lunged pensioner has celebrated her 100th birthday by lighting up her 170,000th cigerette from a candle on her birthday cake."

In an unrelated note, I have a story to share.

The other day Matt and I needed some cash and stopped by an ATM. He accidentally pushed the button for "Spanish," and instead of admitting defeat and cancelling the transaction, we decided to attempt to translate it on our own. Mind you, our collective Spanish vocabulary probably amounts to about 100 words, 50 of which are numbers.

We entered the PIN, pushed the button for checking, told the machine we wanted a receipt, high-fived each other, and thought we were on our way to getting some cold, hard dinero...until the ATM asked a question about "sellos."

Sellos? What the hell are sellos? What other possible ATM questions could there be? Panicking, we canceled the transaction, and started over from the beginning, in Inglés. We went through the same series of questions, and found out that sellos means stamps. They really threw us curveball with that one.

Extreme Makeover Apartment Edition

Lately I've been really disenchanted with our apartment. While it is a decent size for a one bedroom apartment (734 square feet), we have a ton of shit and not very much storage. We still have stuff in boxes from when we moved in June, which is really pathetic. In order to mend this situation, we've made these goals:

1. Come up with a different arrangement for the furniture. This will probably entail moving some stuff into the bedroom, because right now our livingroom is very overcrowded.



2. Get rid of stuff. This includes the washer and dryer that have been sitting on our balcony. Any takers?



3. Come up with creative storage ideas. We've put the bed on risers so we can store stuff underneath it, but haven't yet purchased storage containers that can slide under the bed. I'm think that buying a flat screen TV would save tons of space, but Matt isn't convinced. :)



This is a picture of the model apartment in our complex (ours is the exact same layout):

While that looks nice, the model apartment doesn't have the following items that we have: 2 bookcases, TV with stand, desk with computer, loveseat.

I've been looking at Apartment Therapy all morning to get ideas, but I am not feeling inspired. Any suggestions?

I'm a vegetable!

Last night Christine, Anita and I went to the opening day of Michael Jackson's This is it. Little MJ came too:



I loved the movie, and resisted the urge to sing along. I recommend it for: MJ fans, people who like dance, musicians, nerds, jocks, young people, old people, EVERYONE!

Real-life gaydar?

A new iPhone app, Grindr, allows gay dudes to find each other. It's basically a mobile social networking site that uses GPS to tell you if there's a gay/bi guy in your vicinity. You can then see photos and stats of the dudes in your area, as well as a map of where they are. Sounds creepy and stalkerish, right?


Well, this may have come in handy for some individuals (like myself) who have horrible gaydar. I think this application should be marketed to single hetero females, so they can tell which guys in their area are gay, and avoid dating them.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a gay-hater. I love the gays so much I might as well be Lady Ga Ga. However, your self esteem tends to drop a few points when you find out that two of your ex-boyfriends made out with each other.

I like to tell myself that I was such a good girlfriend that I made them feel comfortable enough to be their true selves, but in reality my masculine traits were probably just the catalyst for them coming out of the closet. I guess I made the chick-to-dude transition pretty easy.


But I'm getting off topic. Moral of the story, ladies need this iPhone app.

You can buy my love and it's on sale for a limited time only

For those of you with disposable incomes, Armani Exchange is having a nice online sale and I'm interested in these items:

P.S. I wear a size medium.

Rocky Mountain Power is ruining my life

I just had the most frustrating phone conversation of my life. The power went out at 8:50, and I had a homework assignment due at 10 p.m. The power didn't come back on until 9:45.

Luckily, Matt is in South Carolina and offered to do it for me, so I had to explain to him over the phone how to log on to the school's intranet, then listen to him read the message board postings (complete with his own smart ass remarks), then dictate my response to him.

And of course he had to make jokes the whole time. "I decided to spell her name Lissa instead of Lisa, is that okay?" and "Oops, I accidentally submitted that," and "I typed your password wrong too many times and now I'm locked out." All of those jokes followed by "you'd better be joking" from me, then "yes, hahahah" from Matt.

But, I am very grateful that my husband was willing to stay up late to help me out. I've missed him a lot the past couple days and I'm excited he's coming home tomorrow.

funny moment of the day

Caitlin's instant message to me while listening to a crazy person on the phone at work:

"h1n1...democracy...CDC...scandal.
SHUT UP"

Weekend as a bachelorette: Matt will never leave me home alone again

Matt left yesterday morning to go to South Carolina and left me home alone. I'll admit, I was sort of stressed out about being home alone for four days, but I think I'm coping pretty well.

Yesterday I ate leftover Pei Wei take-out and coffee for breakfast, stayed in my pajamas until noon doing laundry and cleaning house, then met up with a friend.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again, sometimes friendships are just like dating. I was really nervous to ask my friend Maggie to go to a movie yesterday, but she accepted and proposed that we go to dinner beforehand. Luckily Maggie's really fun to be around, and conversation is really natural with her; she makes it easy to be her friend. We had dinner at a new restaurant downtown (can't remember its name, but it had great soul food), got gelato, then saw "The Hangover" at the dollar theater.

Today I went to Five Guys with Sister Christian (my new nickname for Caitlin and Christian), then we went shopping. I was supposed to be looking for a birthday gift for Katie and a baby gift for my friend Jackson's new daughter. Instead, I bought some designer luggage,

a new purse,

and a dress (not pictured). But, I did put back three (yes, 3) shirts at Forever 21, a pair of skinny jeans at Macy's, and a pair of Juicy jeans at Nordstrom Rack (Caitlin said heart-shaped pockets looked stupid). It's all about will power, guys.

I ended up finding a gift for Katie and the last store we went to, but still haven't found a baby gift.

And I'm mad at Christian for betting against the Panthers. I blame him for our loss.

Monster feet

These shoes seriously creep me out:

Taking it too far

Yesterday, I received this voicemail at work:
"Hi, I need some research as soon as possible. Please call me back when you get this."
Our phone system doesn't show caller ID for missed calls, so I frantically tried to figure out which of my clients needed research. I didn't know the guy's name, phone number, or even what research he needed. A co-worker suggested that I ask IT, and maybe they could at least get the phone number. I emailed the help desk, but they weren't able to help me.

Just when I had finally given up on finding the dude, I get this email from Matt:

Did you get my message requesting the report?

I didn't recognize my own husband's voice! I felt like an idiot.

While I appreciate his sense of humor, Matt has a tendency to take jokes too far. Christine and I used to say that Matt was playing his own game of "taking it too far" with all jokes and comments. A group can be laughing and joking around, and he'll make a highly inappropriate comment that will silence the group.

No topic is off limits, either. I remember watching the African Children's Choir sing on American Idol, and Matt made a reference to Hotel Rwanda (which we had just seen), asking if the children were Tutsi or Hutu. I'm sure the joke went a few steps beyond the line of appropriateness, but I seem to have blocked out that memory.

Another instance of "taking it too far" occurred last week. I had a headache one night last week, so I decided to take a long, hot bath. While I was relaxing in the tub, Matt knocked on the bathroom door.
"You cleaned out the bathtub before you got in, right?" he asked.
Of course I hadn't. "No. Why?"
"Oh, I started peeing in the shower. I thought you knew that," he said with a straight face.
I said something along the lines of "Are you fucking kidding me!?!!?!?/I'm going to vomit/That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard!!" and jumped out. He waited until I started to drain the tub before he told me he was joking.

He claimed his joke was inspired by a Seinfeld episode where George pees in the shower at the gym, but for some reason I fail to have a sense of humor when I'm standing in the bathroom sopping wet with a pounding headache, fearful that I had been soaking in a tub of pee-water.

"Do the medical journals say anything about standing in a pool of someone else's urine?"
- Jerry Seinfeld (talking to George)

Homemade flying saucers!

Things that should be kept out of children's reach.

a playlist I made

For your listening enjoyment.

(I didn't want to embed it, so click the above link.)

Three ladies I love

Tina Fey recently told David Letterman that she was a virgin in her 20's, accrediting it to "just good, Christian values ... or, being homely." Man, I love that lady! I can relate, though in my case it was more the latter than the former. Hahah.

I also think Tina Fey is cool because she looks like my mom. I'd do a side-by-side but I think my mom would get pissed if I put a photo of her on my blog.

Becki Newton, the actress who plays my favorite Ugly Betty character (Amanda), wrote an article for Self about trying new things. Here's the best part of her article:

I distinctly remember a day in third grade when my teacher, Mrs. Otte, said to me, "Becki, I think one day you are going to be a writer." I had composed a very sophisticated and nuanced poem about my cat, Toby, and how he liked tuna, yarn and long naps in the sun.

I think Becki and I should be real-life BFFs.

Filippa Hamilton is speaking out about getting fired by Ralph Lauren for being "too fat" to fit into the sample clothes. She's 5'10" and weighs 120 freaking pounds! Hellloooo, she's a total lard-ass! (I'm obviously kidding.) The article calls for women to complain and vote with their pocketbooks.

I wouldn't buy stuff from his current line anyway. Everyone knows the equestrian theme is sort of Ralph's thing, but it's FUGLY. I guess "Ralph" is synonymous with "vomit" for a reason. Case in point:

Question of the day

Should I cut my hair short again, or let it grow out?

Option A: fun short 'do



Option B: grow it out to its former length (that was almost exactly one year ago)

Duets and the N-word

As many of you know (if there's anyone reading this is in the first place), Matt and I recorded a duets album last Christmas. I'd like to say we were drunk, but we didn't start drinking until after we recorded three songs.

It was brought to my attention that I said the n-word in one of the songs, "Doin' It" (originally recorded by LL Cool J). I cited "artistic license," but felt bad about it, especially since Snoop once came to me in a dream and told me not to say it.

Here's an excerpt from a blog I wrote April 24, 2005:

Snoop Dogg came to me in a dream a couple of months ago, and this is what he said:

Snoop: Brianna, you have to stop saying "Nizzle."

Brianna: But why?

Snoop: Because it means "nigga," and you can't say that because you are a white girl.

Brianna: Oh. Well, what CAN I say?

Snoop: You can say, "bizzle" and "sizzle." They mean "brother" and "sister."

The words came from The Dogfather himself, so I'd better start heeding his advice.

How to die in seven easy steps

Step one: Borrow your 13-year-old cousin's motorized mini-bike.
Step two: Practice riding for about 10 yards or 30 seconds, whichever comes first.
Step three: Inform your cousin that you are now an expert rider.
Step four: Ask your cousin how to turn the bike up to high speed (20-30 miles per hour).
Step five: Refuse to wear a helmet.
Step six: Ride up and down the street screaming "look at me!" so your best friend* will come out and see you riding the bike.
Step seven: When your mom comes outside to yell at you, yell "chicken race" and race towards her at full speed.

*My BFF's aunt lives across the street from my two aunts, and we happened to be visiting our aunts at the same time.