Beatrice, Part 3

[Part 1, Part 2]

Bill and Beatrice finally reached the edge of town. The buildings started getting bigger and shinier. Beatrice couldn't believe how everything in the future sparkled with perfection. Every building she walked by, she slowed down to watch her reflection walk with her. It didn't occur to her until it was too late that she shouldn't be able to see her reflection if she was invisible. She couldn't see Bill, he must have invisibled himself, but she was there just as clear as day. While she watched, her reflection bumped into another little girl in the mirrored wall.

"Oh, hi!" the little girl said. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

"My fault!" exclaimed Beatrice. "I wasn't even looking. I was watching my reflection."

"Me too!" said the little girl. "What's your name?"

"Beatrice," said Beatrice. "But sometimes people call me Amelia."

"Oh," said the little girl. "My name is Hilary but people always call me Hilary."

"Then, I'll call you Georgina," said Beatrice.

"Um, OK," said Georgina. "Where are you going?"

"We're going to the London Eye," Beatrice said.

"We're? Who else is with you?" asked Georgina. Beatrice felt a nudge at her back and then remembered Bill was invisible.

"I'M going. I mean I'M going. I'm alone," she said.

"Smooth," she heard Bill whisper, only loud enough for her to hear.

"The London Eye, huh? I love the London Eye," said Georgina. "It's my favorite place in the world!"

"Me too!" exclaimed Beatrice. "Do you want to come with us?" There was that nudge again. "I mean, with me?"

"Sure!" yelled Georgina. "Do you mind if we pick up my little brother first?"

"Um, I suppose not," said Beatrice. "Where is he?"

"He's at daycamp, but my mum asked me to bring him home early," she said.

"OK, let's go, then," said Beatrice. "Wait a second . . ."

"Yes?"

"If your brother is by the London Eye, why were you walking the opposite direction?" asked Beatrice.

"Oh, that!" laughed Georgina. "I'm hopelessly lost, as usual." Beatrice laughed.

"Well, you can follow us," she said. "I mean me," she corrected, before the nudging started.

"What's your brother's name?" asked Beatrice.

"Bernard," said Georgina.

"Bernard . . . can I call him Bernie?"

"I suppose, but he won't like it."

"That's OK," said Beatrice.

Beatrice and Georgina walked side-by-side down the sidewalk. The sidewalk, much like the buildings, had a somewhat reflective sheen to it. Beatrice could make out a fuzzy-mirror Beatrice as she walked. She could feel Bill's bulk walking behind her, and even sensed the ground quaking a tiny bit with each of his footsteps. Georgina didn't notice the mini-earthquakes, or else attributed them to the huge trucks rumbling down the street. The trucks were all bright orange and said, "Quayfar" on the sides. Beatrice wanted to know what the trucks were carrying and where they were going, but was afraid to ask Georgina. She supposed it looked pretty obvious that she wasn't from the future. After all, she was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a Spongebob t-shirt, but maybe Georgina would think she was vintage. If she started asking obvious questions, though, she'd blow it. She might as well un-invisible Bill.

"Do you like dinosaurs?" asked Georgina. Beatrice almost twisted her head off with the speed she looked over at Georgina.

"What?" she answered. Play it cool, she thought.

"Well, if you like dinosaurs . . . "

"I don't like dinosaurs I don't even know any dinosaurs why would you think I like dinosaurs?"

"Um . . . I just thought you might like to go to the museum up here," said Georgina, a puzzled look on her face.

"OOOOHHHHH," said Beatrice, relief flooding her entire body. "The museeeeuuuuum, of course." She could tell Bill was rolling his eyes at her right now, but he should know how bad she is at lying. Luckily, she was good at covering for herself. Otherwise, her parents would know all about Bill and their time traveling adventures. As much as she enjoyed their trips, she didn't think her parents would be OK with her gallavanting all over time and creation with a purple-vested dinosaur.

"So, no museum?" Georgina asked.

"Well, maybe later," Beatrice said, trying to be breezy. "After all, we have to pick up your brother, right?"

"Oh, of course!" Georgina exclaimed. "How could I have forgotten? I'm always forgetting important things."

"Me too!" said Beatrice. "Once I forgot where I lived. I just wandered up and down the street, looking for our house, but I couldn't remember which one it was."

"What did you do?" asked Georgina.

"I had no choice! I had to go into each house, one by one, to see if that was where I lived," she explained.

"Did you find it?"

"Well, not before some crazy old lady called the police on me," said Beatrice. "I tell you, how rude is that? I tried to explain to her that I was simply looking for my bedroom and she just called me a hoodlum and called the police."

"That is rude!" said Georgina. "Why, how could she be scared of you? You're just a child!"

"Probably because I was carrying my cricket bat," said Beatrice.

"Oh."

"And she was in the bath at the time."

"Oh, dear," said Georgina. Her mouth stayed open in a horrified "oh."

"You don't know the half of it. Old lady in a bath? Gross," said Beatrice. "Also, I had to go to the police station and boy were my parents angry."

"Wow," said Georgina. "You're sort of crazy."

"You don't know the half of it," said Beatrice, and she heard Bill snort derisively behind her.

"Do you mind if I pop into this shop for moment?" asked Georgina. "I desperately need the loo."

"Oh, no problem," said Beatrice. "We'll just wait for you out here."

"We'll?" Georgina said with a smile.

"I mean, I'LL wait out here for you," corrected Beatrice. She really needed to work on her poker face.

Georgina opened the shop door with a jingle and stepped inside. Beatrice watched her walk through the aisles and approach the counter, speak to the shop owner, and walk away from the counter with a key, presumably for the restroom. Beatrice hopped from one foot to another, trying to contain her excitement. Not only was she going to see the London Eye, her most favorite thing in the entire world (except for her parents and Bill, of course, and a hoverboard, should she ever get one), but she'd made friends with a real-life person from the future.

"Psst," said a trashcan. "Psssst!"

"What's that?" Beatrice whispered. Usually trashcans didn't talk to her.

"It's me, you ninny," said the trashcan.

"Oh. Bill," Beatrice said. "What's up?"

"What's up? What's UP? What's UP is you've almost blown our cover SEVERAL times," Bill said.

"Oh, that," said Beatrice. "Really, what IS wrong with me? You'd think I'd never time traveled before."

"You may never time travel again after this," said Bill.

"Bill, don't be cross," said Beatrice. "I didn't mean to, and besides, she doesn't suspect a thing."

"I think we should leave. This is ridiculous," said Bill. "You're bound to slip up even worse at any moment."

"Thank you very much for that vote of confidence," said Beatrice. "But I want to stay. I just made a friend! From the future!"

"You already have a friend from the future and he wants to leave."

"Oh, Bill, you know you're not from the future, you're from the past," said Beatrice.

"Regardless. I have more experience with this sort of thing and I think we should go. Nothing good ever comes from fraternizing with people from the future. You'll only end up messing with their time or our time or God knows what else," explained Bill.

"Bill, I think you're overreacting," said Beatrice. "And anyway, it's too late, here she comes."

"Oh, poo," said Bill.

"Bill, watch your mouth," scolded Beatrice. "Oh, hi Georgina! How was the loo?"

"Perfectly acceptable, actually. Who is Bill?"

"Bill?"

"You were talking to someone named Bill?" asked Georgina.

"Oh, no, I was just talking to myself . . . wondering where I'd put my . . . my bills. You know, MONEY. For the Eye," explained Beatrice.

"Beatrice, that's ridiculous," said Georgina.

"What . . . I mean . . . what do you mean?"

"The London Eye is FREE, silly!" laughed Georgina.

"Oh, of course! I completely forgot," Beatrice chuckled. "Let's go, shall we?"

"We shall."

Beatrice, Part 2

Part 1

Beatrice started packing a suitcase and Bill kindly reminded her that they wouldn't be gone that long. He never wanted to be gone long, because he liked to be home in time for Jeopardy every night. Bill loved Jeopardy!.

"Are you ready, finally?" Bill asked.

"Yes," Beatrice said, and nodded. She climbed on Bill's back and held onto his vest. "Let's go."

Beatrice held onto Bill's long neck. She was careful not to hold on too tightly because Bill was very sensitive and she didn't want to hurt him. Once she squeezed too tightly and he sulked for a week. He wouldn't time travel anywhere and it was the most boring week of her life.

"This OK, Bill?"

"Perfect, darling," Bill answered.

Bill started spinning in a slow circle, counter-clockwise of course. He bent his head back toward his tail and began to pick up speed. Beatrice closed her eyes. She didn't want to, but once she had tried to keep her eyes open during time travel and she couldn't see for the rest of the day. Time travel is very bright, you see.

When Bill worked up enough speed, he jumped in the air. This was Beatrice's favorite part. She held onto Bill's neck a little tighter as they sped through a tunnel so bright she could see the light through her closed eyes. Her stomach jumped as if she was riding The Cyclone at the fair and the wind whipped past her face so fast that tears escaped and blazed trails across her cheeks.

"Wheeeee!" Beatrice shouted, and although she was barely audible over the wind whipping by, she still heard Bill mutter, "quiet, please." He required the utmost concentration in the middle of time travel even though he'd been doing it for millions of years. Once, she'd distracted him with shouted questions about where they were going (Philadelphia, July 4th, 1776) and they'd ended up in Canada. That was just fine with Beatrice, moose being her favorite animals, but Bill was perturbed and since then, banned all talk during time travel. Beatrice didn't think excited yelling counted, though.

The wind began to die down and the world got a little less bright. Beatrice opened her eyes and looked around her. They hadn't been to the future yet, and so she was very excited to see what sort of adventures awaited them.

"Alright, now," Bill said. "Climb down slowly." They'd landed in a giant field of tall grass. Beatrice jumped down, sending sparks up and down her skinny legs, but stood up and soon recovered. She jumped up and down and shook her tiny body, getting used to being on solid ground again.

Bill stood on his hind legs and stretched. His front legs waved in the air almost gracefully, while he swung his long neck back and forth several times. He straightened his vest and yawned.

"How do you feel, darling?" Bill asked. He flopped back down on all fours, causing a mini-earthquake in the process, and grimaced.

"Great, Bill!" Beatrice shouted. "I love time travel."

"That makes one of us," he replied. "Now. Where shall we go first?"

"The London Eye!" Beatrice said. The London Eye was her most favorite place in the whole universe. Well. Her most favorite thing on Earth, anyway. There were some lovely craters on the moon that she was incredibly fond of. Once she'd met a moon-man in a crater, but Bill told her not to tell anyone about him. He said her parents would think she was mad if she started telling them about a moon-man named Frederick who lived in a moon crater.

"The London Eye, it is," Bill said, and started tromping off toward town. He never time traveled to a place with many people, even though he could make both himself and Beatrice invisible. The thing is, when you time travel into a big crowd, people notice. Even if they can't see you. In fact, that's how he and Beatrice met Frederick. Beatrice had distracted him and he'd forgotten to make them invisible. She was always doing tiresome things like that, but Bill supposed that was part of her charm.

"Hey, Bill?" Beatrice asked.

"Yes, Amelia?"

"Did you know the London Eye is the tallest cantilevered observation wheel in the world?" Beatrice asked.

"Where did you learn that word . . . cantilevered?"

"Wikipedia."

"Ahh," sighed Bill. "Well, at one time it was the tallest, now that great honor belongs to a small town in Ohio."

"Ohio?" said Beatrice. "Why would anyone want to build a giant ferris wheel in Ohio?"

"Why not?"

"Hmm," said Beatrice. "I suppose even people in Ohio need ferris wheels."

"Too true, my dear, too true," said Bill. "Are you tired? We can have a rest if you'd like."

Beatrice was not tired, but she knew this was Bill's way of saying he wanted to stop and sit for a while. And since he had just time traveled her to the future, she was happy to oblige.

"Why, Bill," she said. "I would love to have a rest if that's OK with you." Bill smiled and nodded and plopped his giant butt down on a large stump.

"That's better," Bill sighed. "Are you excited, Bea?"

"So excited! But . . . so far, this doesn't look all that different from home," she said.

"Well, of course it doesn't. We're still in London," he explained.

"Yes, but this is 2067 London," she said. "Where are the hoverboards?"

"Oh, darling, I TOLD you to stop watching those Pack for the Future movies," Bill said.

"BACK to the Future."

"Whatever. The point is, there is no such thing as a hoverboard outside of the movies."

"Really?"

"No. Of course there are hoverboards," Bill said. "So silly of you to ask, really."

"Oh, Bill."

"Hee."

"Why do you tease me?" Beatrice asked.

"I don't know, Bea," he said. "Because I have to tease someone and you're always there."

"Oh, OK," she said. "So, can I take a hoverboard home with me? I bought 200 quid, is that enough?"

"Beatrice Evelyn Longford, you know the answer to that," Bill scolded.

"But! Heather has always wanted a hoverboard and she'd be so, so pleased if I brought her one!" Beatrice exclaimed.

"Well," Bill said. "Heather will just have to wait until 2067 to get her hoverboard. Well. 2050, I suppose, if she can afford the first model."

"But in 2050, she'll be nearly 60!"

"Then tell her to drink lots of milk so her bones are strong," Bill said. "Those hoverboards are death traps."

"You think everything is a death trap," Beatrice said. "YOU'RE a death trap."

"Don't be cross, my dear," Bill said gently. "This will still be fun, whether or not you get to take your dear friend Heather a real-life, genuine hoverboard."

"Promise?"

"Promise," said Bill. "Maybe you can ride a hoverboard and tell Heather about it when you get home."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly do that," Beatrice said. "She'd be so jealous she'd never talk to me again."

"So you don't want to ride a hoverboard?"

"That's not what I said. I can ride it, I just won't tell Heather," Beatrice said.

"Clever girl."

"I know. Bill?"

"Yes, Bea?"

"Are you going to ride the London Eye with me?" asked Beatrice.

"You know I can't, darling, I'd never fit," Bill said.

"Oh. Right." Beatrice frowned. "Let's go somewhere else, then."

"No, you want to see the London Eye, and so that's where we're going," Bill said. "Let's go."

They stood up, Bill hesitating a bit as he moved his bulk from the stump he'd been sitting on, and started walking toward town. Beatrice ran ahead of Bill, grabbing leaves off of trees as she went, and then ran back. She handed Bill the bouquet of leaves, maple, oak, all kinds, and Bill shook his head.

"Beatrice, what did I say about changing things?" he asked.

"Um . . . you said . . . not to?"

"Right. The smallest change you make, even if it's tearing the leaves off of trees, could seriously affect the future," he said.

"But we're already IN the future," Beatrice joked.

"Well, the future future, then," he said. "We can't take anything and we can't change anything."

"Yeah, yeah," said Beatrice.

"You're still upset about the hoverboard, aren't you?"

" . . . no."

"Bea . . ."

"Yes! I just want to take one home. I'll never ride it in public, only in the house," she promised.

"And when your parents see you floating around?"

"Please," she said. "Like they'd notice."

"Fair enough," he answered. "But no."

Beatrice sulked and slowed her pace. It's not that she needed a hoverboard. After all, she already had a Wii AND a time-traveling dinosaur. But no one else had a hoverboard. Well, except kids here in the future, but she bet they didn't even know how special their hoverboards were.

"Bill?"

"Yes, Bea?"

"I guess I don't need a hoverboard," she said, and started silently planning to sneak a hoverboard back home with her.

"Excellent."

I've learned there are three things you don't discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.

So. I signed up for NaBloPoMo again this year, and will be posting every day in November. Remember how I did it last year? And then didn't blog for all of December? Yeah, we'll see how it goes this time.

I'm going to make it easier on myself, though. I started some stories . . . um, a long time ago and posted the first part, but WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW is I've been working on them in secret ever since then. And when I say working on them, I mean I'll write 100 words about every two weeks, when I remember I'm supposed to be writing stories. So I'll be continuing one or both of those throughout November so I don't have to come up with stuff about my life to write about every day. You know, I say that is my plan right now, but that could very well change tomorrow. I think you know by now that you should take everything I say with a grain of salt. What does that even mean? Take it with a grain of salt . . . what?

Well. According to Wikipedia:

(With) a grain of salt is a literal translation of a Latin phrase, (cum*) grano salis.

In common parlance, if something is to be taken with a grain of salt, it means that a copious measure of skepticism should be applied regarding a claim; that it should not be blindly accepted and believed without any doubt or reservation. According to the Oxford English Dictionary "to take 'it' with a grain of salt" means "to accept a thing less than fully". It dates this usage back to 1647.

The phrase comes from Pliny the Elder's Naturalis Historia, regarding the discovery of a recipe for an antidote to a poison. In the antidote, one of the ingredients was a grain of salt. Threats involving the poison were thus to be taken "with a grain of salt" and therefore less seriously. An alternative account says that the Roman general believed he could make himself immune to poison by ingesting small amounts of various poisons, and he took this treatment with a grain of salt to help him swallow the poison. In this version, the salt is not the antidote, it was taken merely to assist in swallowing the poison.

So BASICALLY I just compared my words to poison, and if you drink the poison, take some antidote that has a grain of salt in it. Or you could just try eating a grain of salt, but you'll probably die. Sorry.

Last night, I went over to my parents' house to help them pass out candy, although I mostly stood there staring out the window, hoping this kid on a skateboard would fall down, oh, and also drinking wine and eating my weight in tiny Twix bars. There was a little discussion of the upcoming election, and I may or may not have promised my sister $5 if she voted for Obama. The offer still stands, Mindy.

I'm KIDDING! I'd give her way more than $5. ZING!

Um. Anyway. It being Halloween and all, we were allowed to dress up at work today. I went the Jim Halpert Three-Hole-Punch route, meaning the lazy route. I'm not Three-Hole-Punch Jennie, instead I'm Jennie on the Weekend. My costume includes the following: jeans, sweater, Chuck Taylors. There weren't really any good costumes at work this year. No Storm Troopers or Marios. We did get to go to the conference center for hot cider and snacks and OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS they had tiny pies! You know on Pushing Daisies? When Chuck makes cup-pies? THEY WERE JUST LIKE THAT. Adorable.

And now I'm sitting here wondering if someone spiked my cider, because I'm feeling a little fuzzy and also my face is all warm. I mean, I just wish someone would have TOLD me the cider was spiked. I would have had more.

*hee

Good news, everyone!

NBC is back! This is good. Not that I won't miss HBO Family. They had been showing Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead like . . . every single day. I heart that movie. Did you know David Duchovny is in it? Well, he is. David Duchovny is also in Beethoven. He and the wife from Everybody Loves Raymond get dragged down the street by the dog. It's funny, if you're a little kid. Actually, even then, it's not really funny.

Internets, prepare to have your minds blown. I haven't even watched last week's episode of The Office yet. I KNOW. I have no good reason for not watching it. It's not like I've been out saving homeless babies from zombies. I mean, zombies wouldn't eat babies anyway, homeless or otherwise, because baby brains are TINY and the zombies would still be really hungry afterward. It would just be a waste of their energy. Anyway. I need to watch it ASAP. Like, before tonight's episode. Now that it's back on TV, I HAVE to watch it live. Or whatever. I mean, it's Beggar's Night, so I might be busy throwing candy at children.

Last night, I watched that Obama thingie that was on a zillion channels. I wasn't going to, because I already know I'm voting for him, but this person in my office listens to conservative talk radio all day (ALL. FUCKING. DAY.), so when Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity start bitching about it, I want to know what they're talking about. Although, when I hear them talking, I don't really hear words, mostly I just hear, "waaaah waaaaaaaah wah wah . . . wah wah waaaaaah," which sort of sounds like a combination of Chewbacca and the adults from the Peanuts cartoons. It's not a pleasant sound, but it's still better than what their real voices sound like. Anyway, I'm really glad I watched it. I even got a little teary, which honestly is not that big of a feat. I get teary during episodes of Saved by the Bell because YOU KNOW WHAT? It was really sad when Zack and Kelly broke up!

I was going to refrain from all political talk this time around, after live-blogging the election four years ago, but I am very, very nervous. Even more nervous than I was in 2004 and believe you me, I was PRETTY DAMN NERVOUS in 2004. I never would have thought that anything would be scarier than another four years of W, but congratulations McCain and Palin! You did it!

UPDATE: Halloween pictures!

Hey, all right, Ross came as Doody!

We celebrated Halloween a bit early this year, dressing up on Saturday and hitting both the Oregon District's HauntFest and a Halloween party hosted by a walking taco. The festivities started around 8, even though Heidi was still sewing her costume. I mixed up some black punch (grape Koolaid, orange Koolaid, ginger ale, and vodka) and maybe should have used less vodka and more ginger ale. We even made a frozen hand to put in the punch, but the fingers melted really quickly. Also, Joe broke most of them off when he dropped it into the bowl.

Joe and I made a pretty accurate Charlie Brown and Lucy, Steve ended up as . . . you know, I'm not really sure. Heh. After adding a red jacket to his ensemble, he soon became Chas Tenenbaum, and later on that night, Steve Holt. But the real star that night was Heidi, whose Rainbow Brite costume was the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life. There are pictures of her and Steve Holt/Chas Tenenbaum, as well as Charlie Brown trying to kick a football, but they're all on Heidi's camera. Sorry.

Down at the Oregon District it was, well, really fucking cold. We didn't stay long, but we were there long enough for Willie Nelson to call me a bitch. As in, "Charlie! Don't let that bitch pull the football away again!" which was ridiculous, because I think at this point Joe was the one carrying the football. See, when I've been drinking, I tend to lose things and my dad has had the football for 96 years and would probably be really upset if I lost it.

Once we got too cold to wander the streets, we ended up at a house party, complete with hot cider, keg, bonfire, and Sarah Palin. Sarah had lots of babies with her, and eventually most ended up in the fire. I'm not saying Sarah Palin likes to burn babies, I'm just telling you what I saw with my own two (somewhat drunk) eyes.

My sister text messaged me yesterday evening, asking what I was doing. I wrote back "nothing," but a more accurate answer would have been this:

I slept til 11, got up and went to Wendy's for lunch, came home and took a three hour nap, did some laundry, showered, put my pajamas back on, watched TV with Heidi, and got El Toro carry out for dinner.

So, yes, it was a bit of a lazy Sunday. I wore pajamas for most of the day, only changing out of them to go to Wendy's, El Toro, and later to buy pumpkins for more pumpkin carving tonight. I heart Halloween so hard.

don't drink the hateorade

I complain a lot. Ask anyone. ANYONE. These are the things I've been complaining about lately, but in an effort to make myself a better person, I'm going to complain about them AND THEN say something good about them. Look at that. I'm growing.

1. Cold weather

Earlier this week, I started complaining about snow and it hasn't even gotten cold enough to snow yet. Also, the cold weather makes it harder to go running because it makes my throat hurt (waaaaaaaaah) and I have to wear a jacket. I HATE WEARING A JACKET. The good thing about cold weather, though, is that I no longer sweat like a pig while running and also it was cold enough last weekend to build a fire and roast marshmallows. Win win win.

2. the election

I've known who I was going to vote for since February 2007. And since I know who I'm going to vote for and am sick of hearing about the election and am double sick of seeing Palin's stupid face everywhere, can't they just move the voting to today? Or even tomorrow. I'm flexible. The good thing about the election is . . . um, it's almost over. Also, I could go vote early if I wasn't so lazy and if I didn't heart voting on election day so hard.

3. Atonement (sorry, Ashley)

I finished the book the other day, and I only did it out of pure spite, because I guessed the ending after beginning Part Two, and I didn't like any of the characters, and Briony was stupid and annoying, and it moved SO SLOWLY and I don't really like war books anyway (except for The Things They Carried). But. I plan on seeing the movie, because I've heard rumors that James McAvoy is super dreamy in it.

4. NBC

We still don't have it. Instead we have HBO Family, which has been running the same five movies over and over. We have Batman Returns (good), E.T. (good), some movie about kid entrepreneurs (didn't watch it, but it looked really cheesy), some movie about kids stuck in an airport (didn't watch it, but it had Lewis Black in it so it couldn't have been good), and The Astronaut Farmer, which I can't watch because Billy Bob Thornton ruined David Duchovny's marriage. This not having NBC is not good, no matter what way I look at it, because you know why? The version of E.T. they're showing is the new one. And in the new version, they took out the part where Elliot calls his brother, "penis breath." Enough said.

5. money

As in, I have none. The good thing about this is, it forced me to reevaluate my budget (ha, what budget).

6. Thanksgiving

First of all, nothing can top the Thanksgiving Miracle of last year, but this year Thanksgiving is with my mom's side of the family which is the side of the family full of DRAMA AND CRAZY. Because of this, Thanksgiving will just be me, my parents, and sister, and that sounds practically perfect to me. I might even bring more than the rolls this year.

7. Christmas

See above: crazy family. They have rescheduled both Thanksgiving and Christmas, and even though I can't make it to faux-Thanksgiving, it doesn't matter because they only reschedule major holidays for my army-bound cousin, anyway. Oh, do I sound bitter? It's because I am. Anyway, the good thing about Christmas is I LOVE BUYING PRESENTS FOR PEOPLE. The no money thing makes this a challenge, but despite my laziness, I actually enjoy a challenge.

8. Puppies

Ha! Just kidding. No one complains about puppies unless they pee or poop somewhere they're not supposed to, and even then, it's half-hearted complaining because LOOK AT HOW CUTE THE PUPPY IS.

And now I want a puppy.

Tim Gunn vs. Stacy and Clinton

I'm addicted to a lot of things, from The Office to caffeine to mainlining the Internet daily, but my biggest time-wasting addiction is reality makeover shows. I prefer What Not to Wear or Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, but in a pinch, any makeover show will do, especially if it's America Next Top Model's makeover show, mostly because I like to watch skinny, pretty girls cry over their new hair-don'ts.

It's when I try and choose between What Not to Wear and Tim Gunn's Guide to Style that I run into trouble. I'd say my love of Tim Gunn pretty much equals my love of Stacy, Clinton, and Stacy's wardrobe, but if I were going to go on a makeover show, I think I'd rather be on What Not to Wear. I think. I'm not even sure that's true. See, you get $5000 to spend in NYC on What Not to Wear, but I'm not sure how far that goes in those stores. On the other hand, Tim Gunn's lucky ladies get to pick out ten "essential" items from Macy's, which . . . yeah, doesn't sound that great BUT JUST HOLD ON A SECOND. Tim Gunn then takes the contestant to some designer's studio, where she always ends up getting to KEEP a dress. ALSO. There's this bit in the beginning where they get to go to La Perla and pick out lots of fancy, expensive bras. The downside is, Tim Gunn's lady model friend goes through your underwear drawer and all of TVland sees your granny panties, plus you have to model your new bras while you're trying them on at La Perla.

There are downsides to both shows, I suppose. I mean, it always looks like they throw away the majority of your wardrobe. Even t-shirts! That part always makes me cry a little so then I go to my own closet and pull out my favorite t-shirts to give them long, loving hugs. I'm pretty sure they don't ACTUALLY throw all of your clothes away, probably just the really skanky ones you shouldn't be wearing anyway.

And then! You get your hair cut and styled and they show you how to put on makeup without looking like a tranny clown whore, which is always an important step in any woman's life. Now that I think about it, I'm changing my mind about which show I'd want to be on. Stacy and Clinton are funny and fierce and have that cool (but scary) all-around mirror, but Tim Gunn almost always cries at some point because of how good he made the woman look. Plus also, he gives them better self-esteem and seems like he actually cares about your stupid problems. I don't think Stacy and/or Clinton have ever cried over anyone. Not that I'd turn down either show if someone wanted to submit me for one of them. I would happily parade around in my bra on television if it meant I'd get a shiny new wardrobe.

WINNER: Tim Gunn (duh)