Green Eggs

I have lots to do today.

I need to write and send out my Christmas cards (no Edward Gorey this year), finish re-spooling approximately 700 yards of 550 cord, play some Xbox, put off cleaning for another day, make leftovers for dinner, drink a martini, take a bubble bath...oh, the trials and tribulations of being a housewife.

I baked a 10lb ham last night and then put a spicy mustard/honey/cider vinegar glaze on it. It was delicious and the smell of baked pork products is still roaming through our apartment. This thing better last us at least a week.

I've recently discovered the joys of Advil PM. I don't know how I ever lived without this stuff when I needed to get some sleep. But being that my bedtime these days is around 10:00 PM, these little blue pills are heaven sent. The only problem is that I wake up really early with them. I got up at 3:30 AM this morning, well really only because that's when he has to wake up for work today, but I was pretty much already awake by 3:00 AM. Awesome. Last Saturday I believe we got up at 6:30 AM. Right, on a Saturday.

Tasty when mixed with vodka and a maraschino cherry garnish....I'm guessing. Unfortunately we can't afford maraschino cherries.

It's wonderful stuff, people.

'Tis The Season To Be Whorey

My early Christmas present from Clint was my very own controller for the Xbox. Now I can play video games all day in style.

I also asked if we could get a *little* Christmas tree for the apartment. I haven't had an actual tree for the birth of baby Hay-Zeus in a very long time because I used to live with wild animals which are known to most people by the simple term of cats. These "cats" loved drinking the tree water and climbing the thing like it was Mt. Everest, so any sort of upright plant life in our home was a no-go. Now that I have my own place and no cats in sight (at least not yet) I could finally have a damn tree.

So right, I asked if we could get a little tree. Clint's response was, "I guess" and that was the end of that. There is a Christmas tree farm where the pumpkin patch used to be in the parking lot of the Kmart. They have what I would call little trees that are about 2'-3' tall, which is exactly what I wanted because our apartment is not big.

The other night he comes home with a tree that is taller than I am (to put this in perspective, I am about 5'4"). This tree, with stand is around 6'2".

I asked him why such a big tree, he said it was the smallest one they had, so I have no idea where he got this thing from. After that we went grocery shopping (they were having a sale on mustard - 10 for $10 - but we could not figure out what we were going to do with 10 bottles of mustard even though we both love the stuff.

After we came home I asked when we were going to put the tree up, "I don't know, you wanted the thing" was the answer I received. You see, Clint isn't really into the whole Christmas thing. Me on the other hand, I like the cheesy part of the holiday. The Christmas carols, red rider bb guns, gingerbread men, snow (but not in Texas!) and tinsel.

I went to Kmart and got some tree trimming things....and then the tree sat on our living room floor for two days, still in its sad little net from the tree farm.

I decided to be proactive on Friday and get this thing going - so after two hours of wrestling with this tree, cutting off branches with a serrated kitchen knife and having needles poke me in the eye I got the damn thing upright and sturdy. All by myself without any help from Grinch Master Clint.

BEHOLD! (pictures are crappy because they were taken with my blackberry. I managed to leave my digital camera charger back in New Jersey. Way to go, me.)

Our tree topper is a skull mask, because that is how we roll.

He says he hates Christmas but I catch him looking at the tree every once in a while when it's lit up. I think he secretly loves my (our) tree.

Whatever

He officially got stop-lossed last week, which means he will be going back to Iraq, probably in the early summer.

Yesterday he found out that he will be going to NTC, which is a training center in California that lasts six weeks between January and February. At first he wasn't going, but apparently Sgt. Major changed his mind. Awesome.

I might be going back home to New Jersey some time during those six weeks, but I don't know yet. I guess it beats sitting around in El Paso...alone.

This is my life at the moment.