I'm a writer. I'm also a wife and a parent who works too much and lives too little.
In addition to writing I also love to read, listen to music, travel, cook, I enjoy looking for bargains at flea markets or thrift stores, Christmas, football and of course writing!
How did I come up with the title of my blog? Two things: 1. I live in New England (duh) and 2. Canadian singer Alan Frew once arrogantly told me to "get a New England life"--again--DUH! I already HAVE one!
I thought it would be kind of cool (or not) or at least–different–to celebrate the 25 days leading up to Christmas by posting a daily photo of a Christmas shirt that I own. Because I have many. In fact, I have way m ore than 25.
So for today, December 1, here is shirt #1.
As you can see it depicts the infamous red Christmas truck with the Christmas tree in the back and the words “Merry Christmas”. Very festive. Like many of my shirts, this was a Christmas gift a few years ago from my husband. Of course it sucks getting Christmas shirts as gifts because the holiday is already there and you can’t wear it until the following Christmas.
Like so many others, I am a huge fan of the 1983 classic “A Christmas Story”. The movie stars Peter Billingsley as Ralphie Parker, a young boy whose dream Christmas present is a Red Ryder bb gun. The entire movie is based on whether he is going to receive it for Christmas and his on-going fear and anxiety that, for one reason or another, he won’t receive it. As we all know, Ralphie does receive it.
Fast forward almost forty years. Ralphie’s Old Man, that of the “frag-ee-lay” leg lamp fame, has passed away. Instead of the Old Man and Ralphie’s mother visiting Ralphie, his wife and two kids for Christmas in Chicago, as they normally do, Ralphie takes it upon himself to pack up the clan and drive home to Hohman, IN to spend Christmas in the house he grew up in with his mother.
While there Ralphie meets up with his usual old crowd of friends: Flick and Schwartz. He even encounters his childhood bully Scut Farkus.
The film is filled with lots of nostalgia from the original film. It makes you laugh. It makes you cry. It made me wonder why Mrs. Parker (not the original–this one is played by Julie Hagerty) was not more tearful over her husband’s death. Maybe she was relieved of the Old Man’s passing? Finally she is rid of his complaining of the Bumpus’s dogs. Or the furnace. Or his winning odd, useless prizes that she can only roll her eyes at. Although no Melinda Dillon (who, I feel, did a fantastic job as the mother in the original), Hagerty gets us by. I was a little taken aback with her paranoia of the Christmas carolers. It’s not something I felt Mrs. Parker would be paranoid of. It also seemed Mrs. Parker had become a bigger fan of liquid spirits than she had been in the original. Which may be what has led to her great paranoia of carolers.
Other than the lackluster portrayal of Mrs. Parker and Ralphie’s roundabout way of obtaining a Christmas star for the tree, I thoroughly enjoyed “A Christmas Story Christmas”. The ending was just right, as I kept wondering when they were going to have any kind of funeral or end -of-life celebration for the Old Man. They honored him just right.
From the sound of things, Twitter users could wake up tomorrow, log on to Twitter and be faced with…nothing.
I could care less. I’ve had my shits and giggles with the platform over the years. The ones I feel for are the newbies like my daughter who found her “kind of people” on Twitter. As someone who doesn’t make friends easily, finding common ground with others who love all things Muppets and other pop culture-ish things has been great for her. Then an egomaniac has to come along and ruin everything. Nothing good ever comes from dealing with a narcissistic asshole.
I’m not paying eight bucks for a check mark. I’m also not leaving. If this ship is going down, I may as well go down with it.
It’s not the amount of candy they get that kids will remember. It’s the costume they wore. Even more if their mother spent countless hours making said costume, right down to the last hour. To make it perfect for her daughter to trick-or-treat in. That’s what that kid is going to remember five years from now when they’re not trick-or-treating any longer. Not how many candy bars they got.
My daughter’s last year of trick-or-treating she was really into the Flintstones. So guess what we went as? Fred, Wilma and Pebbles. Does my daughter talk about all the candy she got that year? No. But she still talks about how we all dressed as the Flintstones and she loved it.
Rumor has it that the Narcissistic One wants to start charging people to use Twitter. At least the verified ones with the blue checkmarks. That’s where it will start and then he’ll probably want to charge everyone.
I’ve asked myself if it comes to that will I stay or will I go? Chances are I will go because most of who I follow on Twitter will leave as well. My company has already said they will leave if they are forced to pay.
And I know so many are having meltdowns over the fact that they’ve lost followers. I know Twitter is about following people and knowing people are reading your content, but really. Is it something to freak out about? Is that what you’re all on Twitter for? As a popularity contest to get more and more followers? Because those are the people I won’t follow. To me they are as bad as the Narcissistic One himself.
Right now I consider Twitter to be like the Titanic. And we’ve just hit the iceberg. It’s obvious we are going to sink, just unknown how quickly. Some will jump ship. Some will go down with the ship. The definition of “survivor” is up in the air.