HO-HO-HOLY CRAP... I'M NOT SURE I'VE BEEN "THAT" GOOD THIS YEAR

Well, if you tune in here once in a while, you know that my New Year's Resolution for '08 was to clear out the credit card debt and finally retire the mean, green Hoopty-Wagon. You may also recall that I was going to lose a ton of weight and morph into a remarkably svelte, strikingly youthful-looking, 100-lb super model. Well, if you see me regularly, you can probably guess which one of those fell by the wayside, I guess it was...oh... April'ish. Since then, I've had plenty of time to gain back all the weight I'd lost the first few months of the year, plus a little more (I'm kind of an over-achiever in that regard). But I've decided to spin it this way: I saved something to work on in 2009. See, what I lack in resolve, I more than make up for in brilliant rationalizations.

So even though I didn't stick to the physical plan, I'm proud I was able to remain faithful to the fiscal plan. Now, for part B... car shopping. It was fun at first, but I've done so much browsing the past few months that it has actually started to feel like a part-time job. I started out reading books about how to get a good deal, then progressed to shopping car loans and got my financing all pre-approved, and then started to really hunt for cars in earnest. Once I narrowed it down to two or three models, along came the research, the expert reviews, owner testimonials and endless Carfax reports. (By the way, friends, I bought so many Carfaxes that I finally broke down and purchased a bundle that will expire before the end of the year-- so let me know if you need me to run anything for you!) And all through this process, I've been reminding myself that this is an economic decision, not an emotional one... and so a phrase that Mark said early on has become my mantra: "Fall in love with the deal, don't fall in love with the car". Great advice. But I'm going to share another little secret with everyone: when you detach yourself emotionally and don't let yourself "fall in love with the car", car-buying just ain't all that fun. And when you shop deals nationwide and have to wait to take possession of the car, you have waaay too much time to second-guess yourself.

And that's where I am today. See, yesterday, I bought a ridiculously well-priced ($10k below market value!) pre-owned Cadillac and have yet to experience anything close to glee. In fact, with all the financial gloom and doom in the media right now, it's really kind of a huge "Oh, crap" moment. I've gotten so accustomed to socking away my nickles and dimes for sales tax, down-payments and insurance premiums, that I feel a pang of guilt now that I'm actually spending the money I worked to save. Now, don't get me wrong... I feel I've earned it. It hasn't been a picnic to forego the shopping and the weekend get-aways, nor to drive a 1992 Honda all this time! But I do think it will probably feel really great when I finally get behind the wheel in a few days, knowing that I've had to sacrifice for it. If there's one thing that can usually lift my spirits, it's wide tires and dual exhaust... Sorry, but being an unabashed redneck is part of my "charm". :-)

So for those of you on my Christmas list this year... you'll be getting "glad tidings of joy" from me, and maybe a ride around the block. I'm still a little freaked out that I actually bought the silver sled. Gasp. Where's my brown paper bag?? I. Can't. Breathe. Uh, this is probably a good time for more rationalizing:

• Most people my age pay daycare; my "daycare payment" just happens to be a two-seater. (Uh, let's be really honest... at my age, I could be paying college tuition for my offspring! And a measley little XLR is a lot cheaper than that!!)
• I bought used, so owner #1 took the depreciation and I took the great deal.
• I'm spending my own money before Barry O has a chance to spread it around.
• If this turns out to be a whopper of a financial blunder, I can probably sell at fair market price and recoup all of my money.
• I did my part to stimulate the economy.
• Everyone pays out the nose when they're having a mid-life crisis.
• I'm sooo "over" turning up the heat in the Hoopty, using the pair of needle-nosed pliers I keep in my glovebox for this task!

There. Whew... Now I feel all better. Christmas shopping, anyone? And let's grab a bite to eat while we're out... the diet doesn't start for 33 more days. But since I don't pick up the new ride 'til next week, there's just one question: How handy are you with a pair of pliers??

OH, TANNENBAUM... HOW LOVELY ARE THY FLAME-RETARDANT BRANCHES...

So something is clearly amiss at Chez Jules... Never have I been so excited about Christmas.

Anyone who knows me will attest to my normal Bah-Humbugginess; I normally make the Grinch look like a big ol' softie, and Scrooge's attitude toward the season seems downright cheery in comparison to mine.

But not this year.

Maybe alien elves abducted the real Julie... Perhaps the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come paid me a little visit when I wasn't looking... Or all the Whos in Whoville helped my heart grow three sizes larger. I don't know. But I'm running with it this year., no questions asked.

Since I now share space with the Smidge, who loves to climb the corn plant and is forever needing rescued from way up high in the trees in my backyard, I figured a Christmas tree was pretty much out of the question. The last thing I need is a painful Christmas memory of the year I had my beloved Smidge sent off to a taxidermist for breaking all of my cherished ornaments. So the perfect solution was to get a small tree and put it up in the bedroom, the thought being that I can pretty much keep the Hellkitten out of there. Well, since my bedroom is done in a chocolate/aqua scheme, none of my ornaments match. The only thing to do was rush out in a fit of fury and buy all new ornaments to match my room... voilà! Problem was, I got so excited buying aqua and turquoise decorations, that suddenly a small tree wouldn't accommodate them. So I now have a six-foot tree in the bedroom.

Now, the tree itself is kinda cheesy... and by kinda, I mean 200%. This is the first time since 1994, when I lived in a one-bedroom apartment, that I've had an artificial tree. And now, I remember why... it's just not the same. But this was supposed to be a compromise, so that's why it's a "skinny" tree and not as tall as the real ones I normally buy. But hey, since the needles won't dry out and fall off, I can enjoy it longer. And boy, am I enjoying it. Every night, I've been going to bed with the lights twinkling so I can gawk at it. You can't tell it from the pics, but it actually turned out pretty sweet for a mid-sized flame-retardant monstrosity... the ornaments are really fun. And once I buy a few more peacock feathers and tszuj the topper a little more, I think we'll be done. The big girls are enjoying laying on the dupioni tree skirt that I'm sure looks fur-covered by now. Ugh. But best of all, Smidgey's still alive and not stuffed like one of the 'fraidy cats from Hope Floats, knock on wood. Just 31 days 'til Christmas... hold on, lil' Smidge.

And for anyone else who lives with a feline juvenile delinquent, a parting tip: A chinese yo-yo makes a wonderful disciplinary tool for wayward cats. And two of them work like magic! Go figure. I picked a couple up while I was buying Christmas decor at Pier One, and the little stinker's scared to death of them. Score! If I stock up on paper yo-yos, I might be able to have that ten-foot tree in the living room, afterall...

POOP SANDWICHES FOR LUNCH... 'TIL 2012

Once again, folks, I don't make the news... I only report it. And this is funny. This hit the AP wire yesterday (yes, on election day) and Brittnee and I have been getting tons of mileage out of it ever since. Frankly, it's just too amusing not to share.

Associated Press: BUTTE, MT – Democrats are criticizing a 38-year-old man who parked a trailer load of manure across the street from Whitehall's Democratic campaign office to protest presidential hopeful Barack Obama.

Terry Reed, who owns a construction and excavation company in Whitehall, parked the trailer near the office on Saturday. He also posted a sign in the manure mocking Obama's "change we can believe in" slogan as "a load of crap."

"I think Obama's plan is just one big old poop sandwich and we're all going to have to take a bite," he said.

Suzanne Molyneaux, the Obama campaign's election team leader in Whitehall, said traffic came to a near standstill as people stopped to take pictures of the trailer. Reed said he doesn't plan to move the trailer until after Election Day.

"My only regret is that I didn't do something sooner," he said.

Well said, Mr. Reed... here here. I think we're all going to get really tired of eating this same lunch for the next four years. But more on that later.

FOX NEWS... WELL, KIND OF

So I'm at work today, minding my own business (ok, so that would be a first!) and our intranet displays a selection of the day's top news stories. Now, I rarely read this stuff... and it's not because I'm too engrossed in my work to engage in tomfoolery, Heaven only knows. But I've just never taken much interest in being fed a stream of news factoids; plus over the past few months I've grown weary of seeing the same stories over and over again: Freddie, Fannie, the eratic stock market activity, the liberal media slant on the presedential election, blah-blah-blah.

But today, I just happened to be stalling on closing out the monthly financials-- the bane of my existence and one of the few things I detest about my job-- and I saw this little tidbit. And once you read it, you'll know I'm not making this up. I literally LOL'd (which fortunately, my co-workers are used to... on a floor of 200+ people, they all know the Julie Mannon guffaw whether they want to or not). But I'm taking up valuable time you should be reading this amazing tale:

Associated Press: PRESCOTT, AZ – Authorities in Arizona say a jogger attacked by a rabid fox ran a mile with the animal's jaws clamped on her arm and then drove herself to a hospital. The Yavapai County sheriff's office said the woman told deputies she was on a trail near Prescott on Monday when the fox attacked and bit her foot.

She said she grabbed the fox by the neck when it went for her leg but it bit her arm.

The woman wanted the animal tested for rabies so she ran a mile to her car with the fox still biting her arm, then pried it off and tossed it in her trunk and drove to the Prescott hospital.

The sheriff's office says the fox later bit an animal control officer. He and the woman are both receiving rabies vaccinations.

Now, I know that's not funny in the haha sense... but let that be a lesson to all you joggers. First of all, you should be at home watching your Burt Sugarman's Midnight Special DVD collection (more on that in a future blog-- but suffice it to say, it's awesome!) and eating cookie dough like the rest of us. And if you do get bitten on the ankle by a rabid fox, don't grab it by the throat for crying out loud... or else you could find yourself running a whole mile (which frankly, sounds bad enough in itself) and even more terrifying with a wild, diseased animal gnawing on your arm.

Crazy, huh? Yeah. But not like a fox.