This post may put 84% of you to sleep.

Last year I was typing away on a Fluid Pudding post, and when I went to save it, I received an error message. I hit the back button, cut and pasted my entire entry into my e-mail, and then entered it again paragraph by paragraph at the website. (I’m boring you! Please stick with me!) After nearly an hour of fiddling, I discovered that the word that bummed WordPress out was Nebraska. When I saved that entire entry WITHOUT the word Nebraska, it saved with no problem. When I re-entered Nebraska, all hell broke loose.

(When I was a freshman in college, Marching Mizzou traveled to Nebraska for a game. I had been sold as a slave for that weekend (which sounds so horribly inappropriate now, but back then it was just a part of Homecoming Spirit Week), which means I had to carry a woman named Gennifer’s luggage up to her hotel room. My ankle blew out when I stepped into a pot hole in the parking lot, and was sprained so badly that I couldn’t march at the Holiday Parade a few weeks later. I was in an air cast for six weeks, which allowed me to stir up quite a bit of pity during my freshman piano jury. I now feel like I’m sitting on my couch reminiscing with a group of people who really couldn’t care less. Back to the story, which should certainly get better sometime soon, don’t you think?)

I wrote a product review late last week, and that whole stinkin’ Nebraska thing happened again! (The error thing. Not the ankle thing.) The review contains two links. And those two links are non-negotiable. They HAVE to appear in the review. HOWEVER, when I added either of the links, WordPress was giving me the error message again. I did the paragraph by paragraph thing. No luck. I tried to back door the links, which is a fancy way of saying “I typed them in instead of cutting and pasting them.” (I’m a technological wizard, you know.) No luck. I was at the end of my rope last night when Jeff said, “Why don’t you put the links in FIRST?” The entry worked with nothing but the links. (Maybe JEFF is the wizard.)

I then pasted the review in and removed each sentence one by one until I found the culprit.

Get this. The following sentence (which appeared in parentheses on the review) was not allowed by WordPress to appear on a page with the links:

I come with a pretty hefty supply of Christmas tunes.

Because I have lots of Christmas music and I don’t mind talking about it, I’ve been blackballed by WordPress. And I would approach WordPress with this issue to ask what’s going on, but I lack the energy and the vocabulary. I’m bored, too!

Because you tend to stick with me, here is a video of my kids singing Rudolph during the return trip from Indianapolis to St. Louis.

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If I get that van back, man, the road I’m gonna burn!

Just a few quick things:

As you read this, we’re actually on the way to Indianapolis! We all have fresh haircuts, and my mom has given me one of those huge plastic cups from Starbucks. In other words, as these very words travel from your eyes to your brain, I’m most likely sitting in the passenger seat nursing a very large shaken iced tea lemonade and listening to The Squeakquel. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

I need to send a very special shout out to someone with the initials AMR. You shocked the heck out of me when I picked up my mail yesterday, and I’m so very grateful. (I don’t have your e-mail address, or I would have done this privately.) I skied for over an hour last night! And you’re the only person out there who has any idea what I’m talking about!

My family baked cookies a few weeks back, and now I’m giving away a $100 Visa gift card as well as a bag of Hershey’s Candy Cane Kisses! (The gift card winner is random. The Kisses? I’m totally choosing who gets them.)

Watch out Indianapolis. Here come The Puddings! (While we’re gone, please enjoy our favorite online advent calendar!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The Golden Mean

Let’s tie up all loose ends here, shall we?

The Cat’s Ear: As of today, Sidney’s ear has completely healed around the hole. She now looks like a cat who has a battle scar, and has already forgotten who scarred her. She actually jumped up onto the couch this afternoon and curled up right next to Harper. The Puddings would like to buy the world a Coke. (By the way, I’m still holding a grudge against a girl named Kelly who embarrassed me during one of my sister’s slumber parties. I was in the fourth grade at the time, meaning this particular grudge is thirty years old. Two days after being cut with a hole puncher, Sidney has forgiven Harper. Obviously, Sidney and I need to grab some peyote and sweat lodge it out or something.)

NaBloPoMo: This is the final entry. So, there’s that. Thirty days of not very much. However, Mrs. Flinger has stirred me.

You Didn’t Even Know About This: I’ve been feeling itchy to grab the family and head out of town for a weekend. SO, this weekend we’re going to take the kids to Indianapolis to visit the Children’s Museum, the zoo, and whatever else sparks us. (I’m looking at you, Mass Ave Knit Shop.) The kids have no idea. This will be good.

My Hair: I just got back from the haircut place. I let her shave up the back and sides of my head and let the top go floppy. We’ll see how long it lasts.

Compromise

I’m  holding paper behind my head so you can sort of see what I mean by Go Floppy. Otherwise, the flop would be lost in our refrigerator magnet collection.

Weird. Do you see that red spot on my neck? What IS that?

Today is Mark Twain’s birthday! To my knowlege, he never said anything quotable about Pudding, but he did have this to say about the Pterodactyl:

“The less said about the pterodactyl the better.”

We spent 2.5 hours unwinding a skein of Bambino!

This afternoon I went to the Rock-n-Roll Craft Show with Chris and Kym.

After the show, we went to Pi.

After Pi, we went to Knitty Couture.

Perfect day.

And now I’m just trying to figure out if I should have my hair all cut off again, or if I should continue to let it grow.

(I’m not purposefully letting it grow—it’s just that I haven’t had a haircut in over two months, so growing has happened.)

((My hair normally looks something like this. Sadly, right now it looks like I’m wearing a very awkward helmet, and I’m actually having to use a blow dryer, which makes me feel a bit too bothered. PLUS, we’re going out of town next weekend, and I really don’t feel like dealing with electronic hair equipment. Also, I really love Alice’s hair.))

I would create a Grow or No Grow poll, but I lack the energy. Oh, man! Tomorrow is the final day of NaBloPoMo! Is there anything you needed from me before I go? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The Pudding House has fun house flooring.

Siddeartha
This is an actual photograph taken a few moments ago.

As you can see, Sidney is fine—despite the half moon hole in her left ear.

(What you can’t see is the pleading look in her eye as she begs for more turkey. I’ll spare you that wrench of the heart.)

((Another thing you can’t see is Harper. She’s back in her room thanking God for making us a No Spank family.))

All is well, although I’m currently fighting the urge to write a short story about Siddeartha—the half-moon-in-her-ear Brahmin cat who sets out on an ascetic journey to seek enlightenment. The only thing preventing this event is the tiny wise voice in my head that’s saying, “Dude. Really?!” ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Personified Candy Canes: Erratic or Erotic?

Last night, nine of us journeyed out to a local light display, where we boarded a train and marveled at millions of lights.

PLEASE NOTE: This light display is in St. Louis, Missouri. Although it may share a name with a truly fantastic display across the ocean, I can firmly say that the two events are not related. (I just spent thirty minutes looking at the photos of the other display, and suddenly I want to board a plane and go. Absolutely lovely.)

ONE MORE NOTE: This entry is not intended to disrespect the local display. We loved it, and were merely “in a mood” while riding the train. Our kids are still talking about how much fun they had. We will most definitely be returning.

Most of our journey looked a lot like this:
Lights

And this:
lights2

And that’s sort of what you expect when you go on a “millions of lights” adventure, right?

However, we also saw a little bit of this:
marshmallowman

My 12-year-old Nephew (M12YON): For some reason, that makes me feel a little uncomfortable.

Me: Is it because he looks like he’s been poked in the privates by a big toasted marshmallow skewer?

M12YON: Is this journey Rated R?

We continued to ride.

candyrumps

My Sister: Whoa! Hey there!

Jeff: Someone’s hanging low!

That’s all it took for the seven of us (the girls retained their delightful innocence) to see past the magic (and tune in to our inner Porky’s).

We were now taking a ride on the Lickerish Express.

(Please know that all inappropriatisms (and that is NOT a real word) were kept under our breath. The Puddings are very considerate of others when they spew dirt.)

candycaneballs

M12YON: What is that down by his leg?

Me: You know how candy canes roll. As soon as the lights go out, they get all junkie.

M12YON: I don’t like the look on his face.

Meredith: His arm is going the wrong way! Wheeee!

Regardless of (and perhaps because of) the Candy Porn, The Puddings are now fully dipped in the Christmas Spirit.

We’re in. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

NaBloPoMo Freak Out!

This morning I was drinking coffee and checking e-mail and WHOOSH! our internet connection quit. No lights were blinking. Frogs began falling from the sky. Veiled horsemen began circling outside the house. People (mostly me) were flipping out.

(Actually, Jeff detected my sweat and sent me off to the shower so he could fix it in peace. I shaved my legs for the first time in ages! Also, I used really excellent shower gel. If you talk to me today, don’t be concerned if I take a lot of breaks to smell myself. MmmmmmVanilla.)

All of this to say: Because we don’t know if the connection will blow again, I am literally puking out my NaBloPoMo entry. I’mtypingasfastasIcanBarbaraGordon!

Tonight we’re going here. We’ll be riding a shuttle bus dressed up as a train, and we’ll be feeling The Christmas Spirit, and I’m planning on taking the video camera, but chances are I’ll be crying entirely too hard to actually take it out of the case. (The Christmas Spirit gets me Every Single Time. Don’t even get me started on Amy Grant’s Christmas album. The one with Tennessee Christmas? I can’t even drive while listening to it—much more dangerous than texting.)

I hope all is well with you and that you can’t really detect my Frantic. You know, I’ve heard at least 849 people say that God never gives you more than you can handle. Clearly, if losing an internet connection affects me like this, I can’t handle much. This explains why I tend to swim in gravy. Calm water gravy. Not money gravy. So many different gravies out there.

Tomorrow is another day! A day flavored with pumpkin! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Meredith is a carnivore.

Prey
She read it to us this morning as “I am thankful for the Thanksgiving turkey, because I love the prayer.”

However, I do enjoy picturing Meredith hunting and seizing a wild turkey for our Thanksgiving dinner. It’s all about the prey, you know.

(The first part is about her grandparents’ dog—an animal Meredith will never attack and eat. Hopefully.)

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I have toothpaste in my hair.

This afternoon I had a dental appointment.

Once again, we discussed my sensitivity. (Oral. Not emotional.)

Once again, I sang the praises of my night guard.

Once again, the hygienist had to numb my mouth before cleaning my teeth (I tend to kick my legs and howl like a (very unsexy) werewolf when she touches my sensitive spots).

As she finished the polishing, the hygienist accidentally let her instrument (seriously, I tried to come up with a better word, but I’m sort of in a hurry over here) slip, and it buzzed over my face and bonked me on the back of my head, where it left a pea-sized dollop of orange-flavored polish. (I always choose the orange. I’m a real sucker for anything that smells or tastes like citrus. With that said, please know that I’m entirely unable to eat citrus fruits (or tomatoes, for that matter) because of the way my face responds.)

I’m burning a lemon-scented candle as I share all of this information with you. (Shout out to Tempe for the lemon-scented candle!)

Finally, we’re now in the home stretch of NaBloPoMo. And I know I’ve sort of sucked—what with the puking up of photographs and videos and whatnot. For that, I halfheartedly apologize and hang my head at a roughly thirty degree angle.

In semi-related news, today I received this:

Maizey, Chilling with the Bananas

It’s a phone and it’s made of corn and it’s the first phone I’ve ever had that holds a QWERTY keyboard.

In other words, I’ll now be a lot more active on Twitter—if you care about that sort of thing.

Specifically, I’ll be Momspotting. (This has absolutely nothing to do with blood, so you can turn off the wince.)

Personal message to Diana Ellis: I have your old phone number. In fact, within minutes of setting up my new phone’s voicemail, I received three messages for you. The first two calls were not pleasant. (I won’t go into specifics other than: One of my Christmas wishes is for you to get your credit back on track. And Heaven and Nature sing.) The third? Well, it’s past time for you to schedule your eye doctor appointment! (I don’t mind taking your messages, but I’m not going  to set up your appointments, Diana. Call the eye doctor. You look pretty today. You’re welcome!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>