Don't Hate Me Because I'm Organized

Like that hair product commercial of the late 80's, I'm tossing my tresses about in the smug satisfaction of knowing that as of November 25th I am 95% done with my Christmas shopping!!

And not only that, I have written, addressed and stamped with custom-made stamps of my puppy (gag, I know) 40 Christmas cards.

Now, typically I don't consider myself an overly organized person. Not a disaster, not a wedding-gift-at-the-one-year-anniversary, (not my mother), but then not a clean desk, spotless kitchen kinda gal either. This Christmas is a bit of an aberration, I'll admit. I've always sent cards and bought gifts of course, but never before has everything been sown up by Thanksgiving!

This year, however, I don't have any time to shop in December on accounta I'm haulin my cookies all over God's country (though to the most forsaken locales) in the name of a paycheck. Last year, if you'll recall, I did the same; reporting from across the land with the Where's Queenie series. Unfortunately, the cities I'm visiting this year aren't the most noteworthy- trust me, there are no clues for which you might guess where I'll be.

So in an effort to not stress myself out over gifts while I'm busy stressing myself out over work, I've done gone and taken care of all of it. Oh, and I've wrapped it all too!!

Understand that this flies in the face of an entire childhood of last-minuteness, though the Queen Mum did buy her first holiday gift in August...the rest, however, will be purchased in approximately 3 weeks;-)

Now, I understand that this preparedness has more to do with the fact that I'm childless and left to my own devices during football season, than with my actual organizational and/or shopping skills. I care not for such trivialities, but I do care that NONE of my friends are so far along, and y'all know gloatin' rides right up there with gossipin' as my favorite hobby.

So tomorrow I begin trekkin all over the place and I will really try to keep y'all informed, but in all reality do you really have time to be readin' a blog when there are gifts to be bought and cards to be mailed? Hmmm?

What's for dinner?

Last night I really outdid myself. I mean I prepared a meal for my Sweetpotato that I thought only my mother had mastered- sloppy joes, oven-baked freezer fries and canned pork-n-beans. It was truly a masterpiece.

Of course, if my mother had been plating the food, there would have been a dollop of plain applesauce with a dash of cinnamon oozing through the plate and sogging up the bun. You know those weird people who don't like their food to touch? Their mothers served a lot of applesauce.

Every time I mention something about my mother's cooking she gets all defensive about how bad she really was not, but it's not a big deal. I embrace my culinary shortfalls, revel in them really. Every time Sweetpotato cooks something better than me, I oooh and ahhh and drive another nail into my cooking coffin with glee. Consequently I am never asked to do anything more for dinner than pick up a phone. The minute folks know you can do something is the minute you've lost the battle. I bake, that's enough. I have but one domestic skill and I refuse to cultivate any others. Don't ask me to iron your shirt, clean your bathtub, paint your wall, but if you need a cookie honey, I am your girl!

My mother insists that when I have children things will change, like while sleep-deprived and breast-feeding I am suddenly going to be inspired to master the pot roast. Puh-leez. There is a greater chance of Britney Spears winning a Grammy than there is that I spontaneously stop acting in my own self-interest.

So for now, a random sloppy joe is the best you're gonna get out of me- and only if I happen to be in the grocery store for baking supplies in the first place! Look at it this way, everyone has their calling- some in the kitchen, others on the phone.

Hugs and Kisses Mum!