You know what?

I love gadgets.

And I'm not talking about cool little electronic gadgets like my Crackberry or the touchscreen iPod (even though I love those things as well), I'm talking about the simple things that someone somewhere out there suddenly decided to make unnecessarily cool. Things like… squeezable jelly.

I love squeezable jelly.

Yes, I know that squeezable jelly, fabulous as it may be, isn't what normal people would consider a "gadget". But then again, I've never actually touted myself about as being a normal-type of person, now have I? And, demmit, if I want to call squeezable jelly a gadget on my own blog, then you will humor me as good bloggity friend who appreciates my odd brand of eclecticism ought. Got it?

Good.

Now, back to my gadgets:

I love squeezable jelly because it saves me the trouble of either spreading a bit of peanut buttery love into the jelly's jar (and vice versa) or having to wash an extra knife- not that washing an extra knife is that much of hardship… But who in their right mind would want to wash an extra knife when there's SQUEEZABLE jelly afoot?

I love the detergent packets for the dishwasher.

I love those shamefully easy to eat tubs of cheese cake filling.

I love online shopping and those nifty little food chopper thingies that can slice a tomato with the push of a button.

I love at-home hair dye and the tubs of honey wax that keep the PPOMM's uni-brow at bay.

I love my Downey Ball, by God.

And the most recent addition to my gadget love?

Those cool little DVD vending machines that have sprung up all over my little kingdom of hickville. Netflix was cool and all, but these little boxes of magic spit out my movie RIGHT THEN and FOR A BUCK. A buck. It's so easy and cheap that I find myself renting the same movies over and over again just so I can play with the buttons a little more. (No, not really… even I know that that would be a tad bit over the line of eclecticism and straight on to  nutjob. But the thought has crossed my mind.)

So thank you, Mrs. "I thought up the idea of squeezable jelly". You are my hero.

Oh! And I caught the bloggity VD again from the witty and wonderful Andie Summerkiss… It's some sort of new strain called "Holiday Hoopla" and can be studied intensively by clicking on the "Continue Reading" line below… (And you really should do so, you know. Else you may miss out on a tale about a 10 year-old Big Mac- and who in their right mind chooses to miss out on a story about a 10 year-old Big Mac?)   

'Da Rules:
1. List 12 random things about yourself that have to do with Christmas
2. Please refer to it as a ‘hoopla’ and not the dreaded ‘m’-word
3. You have to specifically tag people when you’re done. None of this
“if you’re reading this, consider yourself tagged” stuff is
allowed…then nobody ends up actually doing it. The number of people who
you tag is really up to you — but the more, the merrier to get this
‘hoopla’ circulating through the Blog-o-sphere.
4. Please try and do it as quickly as possible. The Christmas season will be over before we know it.

Most of these are childhood memories… Enjoy!

1. I hated decorating the tree as a child… My mother had all of these antique wooden ornaments that were held together by nothing more than spit and ancient glue. Every time I'd pick one up to hang, she's give me that look that clearly said, "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it should you break my antique wooden ornament that's held together with spit and ancient glue."

2. When I think of Christmas music, all I ever hear in my head is Karen Carpenter and that one by Dolly Parton.

3. Mimosas on Christmas morning… It's tradition.

4. Followed by leftovers and Bloody Marys… It's tradition. (I'm from Louisiana, remember?)

5. My first "white Christmas" was four years ago when I moved here to Hickville… All of that wishing and hoping and praying for snow all during my childhood only to find out that it's only good for five minutes of play,  a few pictures,  lots of  car wrecks and  muddy carpets. 

6. Every year, we (my two sisters and I) would get those giant ass candy canes in our stockings- only to have them taken away ten minutes later because somebody clubbed somebody and somebody had to be a titty and run and tell. (Yeah, Kellye, I'm talking about you.)

7. Now that we've moved on to artificial trees (because my OCD can't handle to mess), I don't get the joy of playing therapeutic pyromaniac.

8. Growing up, before the family split and moved to all parts of the world, we used to have these huge Christmas Eve parties… Every year, we'd run through the list of kids (ordered by birth) and have two of them read the Christmas Story from the family Bible (we played Southern Baptist back then), eat this huge dinner, and then exchange gifts. And every year, someone would be the lucky jerk to receive the frozen Big Mac that had been passed around for a decade… It was that lucky jerk's responsibility to keep said Big Mac in his freezer safe and sound until the next Christmas and the next lucky jerk.

I'm willing to bet that that Big Mac is still in someone's freezer somewhere…

9. My uncle (by marriage) always made sure that I got the spiked eggnog and not the lame stuff everyone else was drinking. 'Cause he was cool like that.

10. I was so terrified of Little Man only wanting to play with the boxes (you've all heard those stories) rather than the actual toys on his very first Christmas, I made Peter open them all and throw away every bit of box, bag, and wrapping before the baby ever woke up.

11. My sister once received a pair of pajama bottoms that had one leg hole sewn completely shut. Now, that was some funny shit.

12. Even funnier, she received rollerblades the next year… and they were both left feet. I was laughing so hard that I even forgot to club her with my candy cane…

And that's it! I tag Melissa, Rachel, Kirstie, and Mr. Lady.