I have been alerted that today is National Spaghetti Day. Well, hi ho! I do love me some spaghetti. Pasta of all types, really. And now it’s like I’m being federally mandated it have a heaping plate of noodles.

If you thought this was good news about the pasta wait until you learn that tomorrow is National Whipped Cream Day.

Oh is there any prospect more glorious? I can’t wait to tell Ava. Let us know if you want to join us for lunch keeping in mind that we take our dessert very seriously.

I’m sitting here watching the brand new Sherlock: The Abominable Bride, and it occurs to me that I have a case I’d love to put forth to Sherlock. It’s most definitely beneath him, but I’m flabbergasted.

The Bandit has lost his phone. The last time he’s certain he had it was after we saw Star Wars the day after Christmas. When do you suppose he told his father and I that he can’t find it? That would be yesterday. I’m sure the thought he would get in to trouble, and was trying to forestall that event. I’m sure he will. All in all, however, I’d rather find his damn phone.

He claims Transient Global Amnesia regarding the location of his phone. There was just enough juice in it to run the locator and it implied that it is somewhere in our house. Now the darn thing’s battery is completely dead and using any other means besides manual skill is beyond us.

My Honey and I took to the boy’s room while he was spending the night at a friend’s. We suspected it was somewhere

Dried blueberries

in that garbage dump. His room was “clean” as perceived by a 10-year-old boy or by Fred Sanford of Sanford and Son. That means there is a nice path towards his bed and the most of his toys are put out of view. I grabbed a large wooden sword and headed under the bed. My Honey climbed up to the top bunk. Thank god, Jojo Kitty was here to help.

We didn’t find his phone. What we did find was:

• 8 pairs of dirty underwear
• Remember all those mismatched socks I decided to throw away? Their mates were under the bed. At least 17 of them.
• Random pairs of pajama bottoms
• A shocking number of orange peels.
• miscellaneous candy wrappers
• two pillow cases – Aha! That’s where they went!
• a harmonica
• a lot of books – that does mildly warm my heart
• 570 Matchbox cars
• The cat four times – he insisted on climbing under there with me and I kept extracting him.
• 3 large rocks – can’t fathom why
• 8,657 random Lego parts
• 2 plastic cartons that once held fruit. One of which we believe was blueberries based on the dried blue balls rattling around inside.

Normally I don’t bother with this. Why set yourself for failure? Still this year, a couple of things occurred to me that would be good to stick with.

Here we go.

• Throw out all the socks that creep under my foot and pool in the bottom of my shoe. I was dealing with that all day today. Every single step that stupid god damned sock slipped further down. It can make a person suicidal.
• For that matter, I’m throwing out all the single socks in my laundry basket that I’ve been holding on to. I keep thinking the other one will show up eventually and I’ll marry them up. Clearly, this is never going to happen. Out with the extra socks.
• I’m going to finish writing the damn book. I’m also going to up my encouragement to Ava until she finishes her book. This is the year.
• I’m either going to stop getting magazines subscriptions or I’m going to read the damn things. I have seven Vanity Fairs piled up around my chair and they make me feel bad about myself. Who has time for that shit?
• No more television shows. Honestly, I can’t adopt anymore shows I HAVE to watch. I have enough already. This may be the hardest of the resolutions to keep. Someone is always coming to me with some new must-see show. I can barely keep up with the ones I love. I’m already behind on Orphan Black, House of Cards, and Orange is the New Black.

There. That ought to keep me busy for a while. Besides the normal stuff like losing weight and other unfulfillable nonsense, what are you going to shoot for this year?

I just love this. Really, really love this.

Remember how I told you my dad was staying with us this week? Well, I did and he is.

I drove him out to his house to check on stuff, because he was nervous about it. I drove him way the hell out there because I love his dogs–all 47 of them. Anyway, the house was fine. The dogs were fine. We left covered with hair. It was fabulous.

On the way home he wanted to stop for donuts to have in the morning. I didn’t want to stop for donuts. My brother is always trying to get him to eat more healthy. Besides that we feed him big dinners and such when he’s at our house, there’s still also always plenty of snacks too. Things aren’t working out exactly like they’re supposed to.

“I got Grandma Cook’s coffee cake recipe. How about if I make that instead?” I asked.

My grandma’s recipe is really, really yummy. It was always a really huge treat when she’d make a pan. The recipe has been running around in my aunt’s custody for years. I know my cousin has made it plenty of times. How hard could it be?

Oh, YUM!

I’m stupidly ambitious.

My aunt gave me notes and hints on how to improve the recipe. It calls for 1/2 the batter, then sugary topping, then batter, then more sugary topping. I followed her instructions about the batter being hard to spread cause it’s thick.

HO! She wasn’t kidding. I needed a trowel. And then spreading the batter on the second layer was damn near impossible. Impossible, I tell you. Sassy came in and offered rude and unhelpful advice. How does one smear half-set concrete over loose sand? I wanted to call my aunt, but it was late at night–too late to be making emergency cooking calls. I did my best and then shoved it in the oven with a “let’s see what happens” sort of attitude.

Turns out things went well! Who’d have thought. I’m sort of a disaster in the kitchen. Not sort of, I’m totally a disaster. Even under the best of circumstances something goes wrong. But this? This smelled incredible!

It came out looking gorgeous — exactly like Grandma’s. I’m certain it’s going to taste just as awesome!

Is midnight too late for coffee?

Ava and her branch of the Brights saw the movie on Christmas day as part of their tradition. My limbs and twigs of the family tree would never allow such nonsense on Christmas. While Ava was oohing and ahhing over special effects, I was stretched out on the living room floor putting together Lego models of Star Wars with the Bandit and avoiding the internet.

It was all rather oddly satisfying. The boy and I both squealed when we found a Lego model of Greedo in the kit. For the record, the boy and I are both of the opinion that Han shot first.

My Honey and I got tickets for the four of us and my dad who’s staying with us for the week. We got XD3D tickets with the THX surround sound and leather seats. We were even able to choose our seats for perfect viewing – dead center in the theater.

I’m not sure who was more excited about it – me or my son.

He wore his new Star Wars shoes and Star Wars shirt. Unbelievably, I don’t own a single item of Star Wars clothing. I borrowed a pair of my boy’s socks. I chose the ones with a Storm Trooper on them. I don’t know why, but I’ve always dug the Storm Troopers aesthetic. We got our 55 gallon drum of popcorn and took our perfect seats.

The previews were AWESOME. We have so much to look forward to in the coming year!

We all loved the movie. I sat next to Sassy and my father. She played theater police and shushed me every time I got too excited – like over the first glimpse of the Millennium Falcon and, later, General Ackbar.  I was glared at for saying, “It’s a trap.” She told me to hush while I gasped during important scenes. She also frowned when I clapped as the credits rolled. Don’t think she didn’t enjoy the film – she did. What she didn’t like what that she viewed me as making a spectacle. She’s twelve, you understand. I am not to exhibit enthusiasm for anything. Sometimes it seems she’s clearly not met me. I’m very enthusiastic about a LOT of things.

Based on those previews, 2016 will probably find her wishing she was adopted.

We’re hoping it’s going better for you than it is for this cat.

Except Hedgie Santa in his wee sleigh…

Hey, here’s something I want for Christmas. I didn’t even know I needed it.

When we stayed at the hotel for the Sisters company Christmas party, there was one of those mirrors on the accordion wall mounts. One side was normal and the other side had a magnifier.

I approached the thing innocently. I pulled it from the wall and glanced at the first side. Nothing that exciting. I’ve seen my face before. Nothing special.

Then I flipped it over.

SWEET JESUS!  I screamed and shoved it back against the wall. No one’s face needs to be that big. It was terrifying.

I ignored the thing and set about redoing my makeup for the party. I encountered problems immediately. The counter was much deeper than I’m used to at home. I was like 12 feet away from the wall mirror. I’m also old. Forty-six doesn’t seem that old until you can’t see your eyelashes without your glasses. Hell, from this distance I couldn’t even see if there were any eyelashes at all. I’m not 100% sure I had eyes.

I looked at the offending mirror with suspicion. I flipped it back over to the Hubble Telescope side. Now that I knew what to expect I approached it slowly, sort of coming up on it from below, like a sneak attack.

It was a marvel. I could tell my eye color for the first time in years, it’s hard to get the distinction with my glasses on. You don’t have to believe me, but I’m telling you the truth here – my eye color changes from brownish green, to green, to blue. They were very blue on Friday. And I could see every single short, stubby eyelash.

I was stunned.

Ava’s been telling me I needed this mirror for years and I resisted. It just seemed so over the top, that I scoffed at her.

But now… I’m embracing the Hubble Telescope!