'Tis the season for thank you notes

After looking over my posts from this week I'm starting to realize that I sound awfully cranky and whiny, so here is a sorely inadequate list of thank you's that need to go out for folks who have been warm and fuzzy lately and throughout the year:

• To my friends, who don't give up on me when I get all asocial and need my "special alone time," as well as when I get all yakky and hyper and sassy and biotch-y.
• For anyone who has seen me do my "PR laugh" non-ironically and not vomited a little in their mouth
• To anyone who has been present when I announce, loudly, that I am drunk and has not run screaming in the other direction.
• To red wine, for helping me find the path to announcing that I am drunk.
• For the Shar-Pei dog across the yard at my mom's house, who offers me literally hours of amusement while having my morning coffee.
• For my mom, for buying me Starbucks so that I won't have to drink Folger's as my morning coffee.
• For Mrs. Puff, who teaches me in no uncertain terms the importance of not straying too far from home for too long.
• For my jeans, who so far have not miraculously split in half out of protest.
• For Flexcar and Target and Trader Joes, for being there.
• To pandas, otters, harp seals, polar bears and animals that wear clothes, for being so freakishly, ridiculously CUTE.
• To Brie and French bread, just for being you.
• For the loyal readers of the World of Beth, whoever you are, and for whatever it is that keeps you coming back for more.

If the city of Denver were in a movie, it would be played by The Rock these days

While most cities would be MORE THAN content to have just ONE major, crippling holiday blizzard, Denver is apparently a macho muscle-shirt-wearing city that needs to pull out all the stops and have two. In a ROW. Whatever, Denver.

So Beth is trapped - again - at her mom's for another two days*, because I've had to reschedule my flight until Monday morning when hopefully Denver will get over this macho shit and let the damned sun shine in again. Ahem. Sorry. I'm a little wound up. I've found lots of housecleaning projects to occupy my time and have managed too to find some lovely things to blow my gift cards on online, but this is a bit much.

Clearly one has to be careful with what one asks for when they're sitting at there desk at work thinking "Man, all I want is to be on vacation chilling out at my mom's house with absolutely nothing to do." Lesson learned: Be a little more specific and maybe throw in the words "Maui" or "Hugh Grant" if you get the opportunity.

*Um, Mom, if you're reading this, I don't mean to sound ungrateful and tired of hanging out at your lovely home, it's just two weeks was a bit more than I bargained for and I just want to sleep in my normal bed again. Really, you're a lovely mom. Thanks for making tacos last night and for not being judgemental when I went for that second glass of wine.

Excuse me while I whine a bit here

Look, I'm sorry to be a whiny, pouty, irritable little baby right now, but the weather people are predicting another 12-16 inches of snow in Denver to start tomorrow, which will continue right into Saturday , which is right about the time I'm supposed to leave on a giant jet plane and return home.

Which means, if the city is shut down by another blizzard, I could either be stuck in Denver for another 1-3 days or potentially stuck at the airport, which does not make me happy AT ALL.

Which means. Just. Well. It just means I have to feel like a whiny, pouty, irritiable little baby, I guess. It hasn't even started snowing, so I'm just being prematurely panicky and whiny. I get that. I'm tired. I'm sick of frickin' dial up. I hate smelling like an ashtray and I'm starting to miss my bed and my obese cat and my stuff and my life and the thought of being stuck away from it for another 3 days just seems a little overwhelming.

Seriously, Denver, TWO blizzards in a two-week period that coincide with Christmas holiday travel? WTF, Denver? You're on my list, pal. Watch it.

Adventures in Sprawlsville, or How Beth Almost Smacked Someone in the Middle of Kohl's

Ah, suburbia. I've always had a serious love/hate thing going on with the 'burbs and I knew that the decision to spend 12 days smack in the middle of 'em would test the love part big time. Being homebound with nothing to do but (literally) watch it snow for three days sure hasn't helped much.

However, on the positive side, I've started to get out and see the world outside of the beige neighborhoods of Southwest Denver. So far this included a Christmas Eve brunch at Bump and Grind, which is apparently best known for its "Petticoat Bruncheon," which involves a waitstaff composed entirely of drag queens. Honey, nothing makes Beth happier than to be served coffee by a sassy, foul-mouthed drag queen while listening to Britney Spears ON CHRISTMAS EVE. Oh wait, unless it involves getting presents and custom-made CDs and seeing old friends and it DID. I was giddy all morning after that, especially as I drove home listening to "Barenaked for the Holidays" (a holiday album from the Barenaked Ladies, natch) on full blast.

Today Beth and her mom ventured out to see the retail offerings the 'burbs had to offer us, wherein Beth attempted to spend her gift cards IMMEDIATELY and, of course, absolutely nothing even remotely decent was to be found in the stores because Beth had actual money to spend. Sigh. We went into Kohl's to look for cheap Christmas flare at 50 percent off and I was so outraged by the snotty teenage girls that I actually got up in one's face and said "Seriously?" all intense and scary/snarky-like. God knows if she had so much as looked at me directly I would have turned and run right back to my mommy and hid. Still, I felt tough. At least as tough as one can feel in a Kohl's in Littleton on the day after Christmas with their mom.

More reports from Sprawlsville to come....

Homebound: Day 3

Sweet baby Jesus there's a lot of snow here in Colorado! I have amusing pictures to post of just how bad it is, but forgot my camera cord, so y'all will have to stay tuned until after the new year when I get back home to Seattle.

I'm pleased to report that Beth made it home safe and sound just three scant hours before Blizaard 2006 whapped the city upsite the head with a can of Whup Ass. So far it's been two straight days of sitting in front of the TV watching 9News and eating giant M&M cookies from Safeway.We're on to day 3 now and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going a wee bit stir crazy. I've read a book, cleaned and reorganized my mom's kitchen pantry, chatted with the dead bartender in the ballroom, and packed up a carload of things to take to Goodwill once the roads are clear. Let's GO, Department of Transportation, I'm getting BOOOORRRRRED, here.

More to post, perhaps if I ever get out of the house, but just wanted to throw out a quick holla to my peeps and let them know I'm alive. Bored, but alive. Stay tuned!

Light at the End of the Tunnel

In the spirit of offering hope and goodwill for the new year, I'd like to mention the Backwards Bush Countdown Site so that we can all watch as the seconds tick down to a Dubya-free White House. Shop, download a screen saver or even add the countdown to your blog as yours truly has already done.

Pour yourself a cup of organic holiday cheer, take out the recycling, renew your subscriptions to the Utne Reader and Mother Jones and Bust and other liberal-lefty magazines, and watch the numbers tick down. There. Doesn't that feel better?

If you're still not convinced, here are some more reasons to love the site and its products:

• Wearing one around your neck helps to keep Republicans away and smells much better than garlic.
• Purchasing a BackwardsBush keychain instantly qualifies you for "Enemy Combatant" status.
• Now that Bush has his judges on the bench, the keychains will most likely soon be illegal (and therefore a collector's item).
• Unlike Bush, our keychain has a 100% approval rating.
• You might as well spend your money on a keychain now, because if social security gets privatized, you won't have any money left!!!
• If you're reading this, the NSA is most likely already spying on you, so you might as well make it worth it!!!
• Backwards Bush proudly supports Save the Children.

A SparkPeople Shoutout

It would be downright un-American of me not to want to start the new year off with the resolution to be healthier and more active in 2007, so I’m passing along this little gem of a Website onto my loyal readers in case they’re wanting to do the same.

SparkPeople is free (cheapskates rejoice!) and is one of the comprehensive and legit diet/fitness sites out there from what I can tell. Plus it offers up customized weekly meal plans, grocery lists, exercise plans and more goal charting resources than I can get my head around. Plus, a Best Of The Web award from BusinessWeek ain't bad either.

The Bad Movie Marathon Continues

Today, while nursing a fierce hangover that nearly crippled me and made me retarded, I caught up on my Cheesy God-Awful Christmas Movie Obsession. Today's movie was "Santa Baby," a made-for-TV offering for the ABC Family Channel (strike one) which starred Jenny McCarthy (strike two) as a high powered corporate consultant type who is, um, Santa's daughter (strike three).

I have to confess that the main reason I Tivo-ed this movie is that it was directed by Ron Underwood, who I mistook for Ron Livingston, who is the guy who played Peter Gibbons from Office Space. My bad. My really bad.

In a nutshell, Santa has a heart attack, Mrs. Claus phones up her sort-of estranged city slicker daughter and asks her to come home and help out the family business this year. Santa is played by George Wendt which I was skeptical about (would Santa be a barfly?), but he was quite charming actually. You GO, former Norm, with your charming made-for-TV movie self!

And, in another nutshell, my hangover is finally clearing up at now 6:16 on Sunday night while I'm sipping some Detox tea and trying to squeeze some productivity into what's left of the day.

Apologies in advance to Dolly Parton

Recently my friends and I gathered around a loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and the CMT holiday movie “A Smoky Mountain Christmas,” starring (and co-written by) Dolly Parton.

I realize that making snarky comments about Dolly Parton is a risky business, because after all, that woman is as sweet as a soft caramel melting in hot chocolate poured over a cupcake served in a bowl of powdered sugar and as wholesome as a kitten wrapped around a harp seal pup tucked inside of a rainbow guarded by unicorns, but I’m going to have to go out on a limb and say, Dolly, honey, your movie was freakin’ weird.

On the most basic level, the move was a variation on Snow White set during the holidays. Except the dashing prince was known as “Mountain Dan” and played by Lee Majors (hi, Bionic Man!) wearing the World’s Worst Fake Beard EVER. And the dwarves were instead orphans dressed in Depression-era clothes who may or may not have been related even though one of them was black and none of the others were. And the only black orphan was named “String Bean” which was also weird, because none of the other orphans had folksy names, but were instead named “Josh,” “Mary,” “Freddie,” etc. And the fact that, now that I think about it, everyone in the quaint mountain town were dressed in Depression-era clothes which seemed especially disorienting because the movie was, after all, set in the (then) present day of 1986. Seriously, no one could ship a box of Pac-Man or Miami Vice t-shirts to the Ozarks for these residents?

Overall, I guess, sort of, kind of, the movie wasn't that bad. It was a Dolly Parton Christmas movie after all and you get to watch her sing and play the guitar with her ginormous fake nails and giggle and say those Mountain People sayings that she’s famous for. It’s good times as long as you’re not looking for something, say, coherent.

I’d like to close by calling out a review of “A Smoky Mountain Christmas” from alert North Carolinian Amazon.com reviewer J. White who says: “The story is a bit hoakey, but I don't mind it since it is a good story with no political correctness or other garbage such as the A Very Muppet Christmas was laden with.”

Yup. Thanks J. White. I sense another blog post comin’ up quicker than a gathering of ants after a spill of honey mixed with molasses and maple syrup stirred with sweet Carolina tea.

You don’t dis the Muppets and get away with it on MY watch, pal.

Do not resist the otters. Don't even try.

I realize I have a THING for super-ultra-mega cute things, therefore I’m contractually obligated to draw your attention to CuteOtters.com, which is apparently the new sister site (sort of) for Cuteoverload.com.

Just try to look away. Try not to giggle like a little school girl when you see them nibble their lunch off of their tummies. Just try.

Dude, you know you want to just smother them with kisses. Yes, even YOU, tough guy reading this blog in jail. EVEN YOU.

The trip to the ninth circle of hell (Bellevue Square) was worth it in the end

Beth is feeling smug today. Last night, Beth went shopping. Shop, Beth, Shop! Beth found lots of nice professional clothes to wear to work. Because every piece of clothing she bought was 50 percent off, plus an additional 40 percent, (dude, I know!) Beth ended up saving a ridonculous amount of money, while still coming away with a schnazzy navy blue velvet blazer from Ralph Lauren in the process. Save, Beth, Save!

Now Beth’s feeling both well-dressed AND financially savvy. And smug. Very smug. Gloat, Beth, Gloat!

Curse you, Hallmark Channel! CURSE YOU!

In making this confession, I realize I’m scrapping any sense of hipster/indie-film-fan street cred I ever had. And I didn’t have much to begin with, folks. But (deep breath) my name is Beth, and I’ve been Tivo-ing an alarming amount of Christmas movies from both the Hallmark Channel and Lifetime this holiday season.

(World at Large: “Hi Beth.”)

We’re not even talking kitschy retro movies like Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas (truly, the best holiday movie EVER), we’re talking movies with hokey soundtracks and appalling scripts about city slickers that learn to love Small Town Life and the Importance of Family over Christmas.

I need help. I need to re-watch Sid and Nancy and recapture my bitter inner film snob. Maybe after one more Hallmark Original movie though...

Introducing...Tready!

The World of Beth introduced a new family member into her home last week - Tready the Treadmill! Tready lives in my living room and enjoys it when I take him for walks. So far I'm trying to go for 30-minute walks with Tready every day, but sometimes Tready kicks my ass and makes me feel like a 98-year-old woman after I'm done with him. I've learned I need to tread lightly with Tready or else I will hurt the next morning. He's spiteful like that.

Yes folks, it's the end of the year and that means Beth is ramping up for new year's resolutions - in this case it's "Shape Up In 2007," my committment to not being Fatty McFatterson at this time next year. Going for daily walks seemed like a good first step - hence the adoption of Tready.

Even Mrs. Puff seems to enjoy Tready, or rather she seems not too be terrified with it, which I take to be a good sign. Perhaps I could even get her furry fat bottom onto Tready and we could walk together? Bring it on, 2007, this girl's ready.

If Rocky Balboa can go to battle in his sixties, then surely I can commit to a brisk walk in the evenings, right? Right? (Desperate whimper) Right?

A Conversation With Daiso

Beth: Thanks very much for joining me today, Daiso. All too often I write open letters to random things but today the idea occurred to me to interview them instead. Especially when these random things are as FREAKIN' FABULOUS as you are, Daiso.

Daiso: It's my pleasure. Nice to be here. Please stop touching me.

Beth: Oh, sorry. I'm excited. You were really, really cool. Anyway. Recently I paid you a visit at the Alderwood Mall....

Daiso: Yes, I remember you. Saturday night, right?

Beth: Omigod, that's right! You saw me? You remembered me? (blushing) Wow, that's so cool. I really enjoyed meeting you, Daiso. I admit I wasn't sure what to expect, but you were so much cooler than I could have imagined.

Daiso: (squirming uncomfortably) Yes, I get that a lot. Could you sit a little farther away from me?

Beth: But Daiso, you're dreamy. You're like a Japanese dollar store, isn't that right? (Daiso nods). But you're more than that. Of course you are. I mean, an American dollar store wouldn't sell packages of tissues with sleeping kittens on them, would it? God, all American dollar stores sell are dented cans of soup and Nag Champa incense and discontinued household cleaners. They're not like you, Daiso. They're not all kitschy and cute and cool and authentic and awesome.

Daiso: You're very kind. I do feature an extensive selection of Japanese ceramics such as teapots and sake pitchers, chopsticks, snacks, household cleaners, decorations, stationary and tupperware-like items all for around $1.50 each. Some items are as high as $3.00, but most are in that $1.50 range.

Beth (sighing): You were fabulous, Daiso. Seriously.

Daiso: I have to go now. I'm very crowded and you're creeping me out.

Beth: I'm going to tell all my readers about you, Daiso. I want them to know how much I love you so that they can love you too. Please don't go. I want to look at more rice paddles with bunny rabbits on them and miso soup bowls with tiny fitting lids. I want more of you, Daiso!

Daiso: Again, I'm flattered. But I'm a chain store in Alderwood Mall. It would never work out between us. Please, just visit me occassionally.

Beth: Oh I will, Daiso. I will. I hope to see you very soon.

Daiso: You're a strange woman.

Beth: Yes, I get that a lot.

Crazy Cat Lady Alert

Yeah, it's my cat in a dress. You got a problem with that?

Nine Nifty Lessons learned this weekend in Portland

1.) Tax-free shopping = GOOD
2.) Tater tots with ranch dressing = SUPER
3.) Holiday Ale Festival taking place downtown = FANTASTIC
4.) “Blizzard of Oz” ale at said festival = NOT GOOD. NOT GOOD AT ALL.
5.) Being sober(ish) in a room of about 1,000 really drunk people = NOT SO GOOD EITHER.
6.) Getting lost on the way home, in the cold and the dark = SERIOUSLY BAD TIMES
7.) Finding a local chapter of the Elks Club and having them call us a cab = A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
8.) Knowing that in order to get that cab at 11 p.m. it’s likely that someone in our group had to flirt with an Elks Club member = SAD
9.) Safe arrival home, with garlic bread and brie afterwards = HAPPY TIMES