I grew up cutting our Christmas tree down every year at a tree farm. My husband and I did the same thing once we got married. We would drive to the Santa Cruz mountains, find the perfect tree, and load it up in the car.
I was dissapointed to find that Idaho doesn't have Christmas tree farms. They just have the lots around town with precut trees. I mentioned this to friends over dinner Saturday night. They told us that a real Idaho Christmas tree can only be found in the Boise National forest. "It's easy", they assured us. "You drive out to the ranger station, get a permit, and pick any tree you like." They encouraged us to go get one the next day and since they didn't have a tree yet either, offered to be our guides and we would make a day of it. "Once we get to the mountains," they said, "it should take us about 20 minutes to pick and load our trees. Then we'll have lunch on the way back. It'll be great!"
The next day we headed out to the snowy mountains, excited for our winter wonderland adventure. Let me preface the rest of this story by mentioning that our friends are very outdoorsy, adventurous people. He works for the forest service and they spent their vacation this summer doing a week long bike race through the Sierras.
After getting our permits, we hiked with kids in tow about a mile into the forest. Then, we took a turn and hiked up and across a mountain in knee deep snow for another half hour. After the first hour, we realized that trees in the forest are nothing like Christmas trees. They are, in fact, quite pathetic. I finally just pointed at any tree, my husband cut it down, and we dragged it back down the mountain and out to the road.
Once in the car, my husband turned to me and said, "Two things. First, we need to get some chubby friends. Second, even a hobo would not take this tree. It's ugly."
After having a lovely lunch and letting the kids play in the snow a while, we headed home. We dragged our monstrous tree into the house, put it into the tree stand, and burst out laughing. It really was so ugly. The bottom third branches were about the length of our couch and pretty much the rest of it was bare. It was somehow both huge and sparse at the same time.
Almost without saying anything, we all agreed on what to do.
We hauled that crappy forest tree out to the recycling, got in the car, and drove down the road to the nearest precut tree lot. We paid $26 for a pretty tree that was tied and loaded for us. We were back home in 15 minutes.
After the gas to drive to the mountains, our permit for the tree we tossed, and lunch, our tree this year actually cost about $100. It's worth it, though. It's the perfect Idaho Christmas tree.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Occupy Boise
Granted there are only about a dozen occupy Boise members, but they are dedicated! They are out there every night with their tents and blankets. Of course, they clean up every morning (I don't know where they store those tents) and stand politely with signs all day. The police have in no way attempted to disperse or harass them. *
Last night on the news, they showed a man bringing all of them dinner. A reporter asked him, "So, you are here because you support occupy Boise?"
"No," the man said, "I don't share their views. However, this is America and as an American, I completely support their right to be out here protesting."
In my mind, I juxtapose that with what occupy Oakland has deteriorated to and once again, I thank my husband for dragging me, kicking and screaming, to this fabulous city.
*UPDATE: The State Leglislature is meeting this week to discuss banning "camping" at the Capitol, a move obviously aimed at occupy Boise protestors. Damn it, Boise! Just when I think I am starting to fall for you, you pull some stupid shit like this! When will I learn?
Last night on the news, they showed a man bringing all of them dinner. A reporter asked him, "So, you are here because you support occupy Boise?"
"No," the man said, "I don't share their views. However, this is America and as an American, I completely support their right to be out here protesting."
In my mind, I juxtapose that with what occupy Oakland has deteriorated to and once again, I thank my husband for dragging me, kicking and screaming, to this fabulous city.
*UPDATE: The State Leglislature is meeting this week to discuss banning "camping" at the Capitol, a move obviously aimed at occupy Boise protestors. Damn it, Boise! Just when I think I am starting to fall for you, you pull some stupid shit like this! When will I learn?
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The customer is always right (and valued, and appreciated, and...)
Today I went through a car wash and was busy vacuuming out my car when a car wash employee taped me on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Ma'am." (I still can't get used to being called Ma'am) "It looks like the back of your car didn't quite get clean in there. Why don't you drive around and we'll send it through the wash again for you."
Now, I didn't complain about my car wash. I didn't even notice dirt left on my back bumper. That employee just took the extra time to make sure I received what I actually paid for, a clean car.
This would be bizarrely great service anywhere else but in Idaho, it's normal. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy friendly service. I could never go back to bored employees with no sense of responsibility to their job or customers.
There are a lot of things I like about Boise (true seasons, miles of beautiful greenbelt snaking through the city along the river, great museums, a vibrant downtown) but the thing I like the most, LOVE even, is the fabulous service I receive everywhere I go (and I do mean everywhere). I almost don't want to get used to it because I hope I never take it for granted.
Now, I didn't complain about my car wash. I didn't even notice dirt left on my back bumper. That employee just took the extra time to make sure I received what I actually paid for, a clean car.
This would be bizarrely great service anywhere else but in Idaho, it's normal. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy friendly service. I could never go back to bored employees with no sense of responsibility to their job or customers.
There are a lot of things I like about Boise (true seasons, miles of beautiful greenbelt snaking through the city along the river, great museums, a vibrant downtown) but the thing I like the most, LOVE even, is the fabulous service I receive everywhere I go (and I do mean everywhere). I almost don't want to get used to it because I hope I never take it for granted.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
A Mother's Wish for Her Daughter (by T.Fey)
May she be beautiful but not damaged, for it’s the damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half, and stick with beer.
May she play the drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need not lie with drummers.
May she draw horses and be interested in dolls for much too long.
Give her a rough patch to build character between twelve and seventeen, while I am still there to help her through it.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, give me the strength to yank her directly into the car in front of her friends, for I will not have that!
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half, and stick with beer.
May she play the drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need not lie with drummers.
May she draw horses and be interested in dolls for much too long.
Give her a rough patch to build character between twelve and seventeen, while I am still there to help her through it.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, give me the strength to yank her directly into the car in front of her friends, for I will not have that!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
California Dreamin'
I recently traveled back to California to visit family. I was shocked at how much of an outsider I have become. Everyone was driving too fast and I could not get over how much garbage was strewn all over the roads. Also, the incessant honking. So rude!
My husband and I started complaining about it until we realized we sounded like our annoying Idaho relatives that would visit us when we lived in California. Well, actually, now we ARE the annoying Idaho relatives going on and on about smog and traffic. We have become obnoxious.
Seriously, though, would it kill someone to pull a few weeds on the freeways down there?
That made me think about my place, my home base. If I feel like a visitor in California, do I feel at home in Boise?
Sometimes.
Growing up in California, I became adept at spotting outsiders. I remember as a kid, my uncle taught us a game called “spot the tourist”. We would stand in front of his house in San Francisco and wave to the trolley cars. “Watch”, he would tell us, “whoever waves back is a tourist.”
Ah, good times.
There is a trolley car that gives tours of historic Boise and it goes passed my house twice a week. If I am on the porch, I wave for old times’ sake. Of course, this is Boise so everyone waves back.
It’s not really the same.
Like California, Boise does have a “look”. Everyone dresses very TheNorthFace/Patagonia and looks like they are just about to climb a mountain or jump into a kayak. Probably because they are. People are seriously outdoorsy here and everyone either just came from or is about to work out. I think I am the only mom at my son's school who drives her kid. Everyone else shows up with bike trailers and jogging strollers, even in the dead of freakin' winter!
The other night I was walking in Hyde Park near my house and a lady walked towards me with her two kids. She had sparkly flip flops, a pink purse, streaked hair, a fake tan, and one of those bump-it hairdos. Oh my, I thought, someone is visiting from Meridian (Meridian is a suburb of Boise and every woman there looks like she is auditioning for The Real Housewives Of Meridian. Except, they wouldn’t do a Real Housewives of Meridian because Meridian is in Idaho and so fucking boring, no one would watch). The look is akin to that phony Southern California look except cheaper. It's very "Orange County goes to the trailer park".
The fact that I even noticed she wasn’t from my neighborhood surprised me. Maybe I am starting to feel at home here.
Kind of.
I think of Boise as my home until I am reminded of the cool, breezy allure of California. My sister emailed me the video for Train’s “Save Me, San Francisco”. It made me sad.
It made me long for the beach and the ocean breeze over the Golden Gate, even though I know that image is scrubbed clean and not real. In reality, the beach has filthy seagulls and sometimes smells like a sewer.
I can’t help it, I still miss it and it's still home.
My husband and I started complaining about it until we realized we sounded like our annoying Idaho relatives that would visit us when we lived in California. Well, actually, now we ARE the annoying Idaho relatives going on and on about smog and traffic. We have become obnoxious.
Seriously, though, would it kill someone to pull a few weeds on the freeways down there?
That made me think about my place, my home base. If I feel like a visitor in California, do I feel at home in Boise?
Sometimes.
Growing up in California, I became adept at spotting outsiders. I remember as a kid, my uncle taught us a game called “spot the tourist”. We would stand in front of his house in San Francisco and wave to the trolley cars. “Watch”, he would tell us, “whoever waves back is a tourist.”
Ah, good times.
There is a trolley car that gives tours of historic Boise and it goes passed my house twice a week. If I am on the porch, I wave for old times’ sake. Of course, this is Boise so everyone waves back.
It’s not really the same.
Like California, Boise does have a “look”. Everyone dresses very TheNorthFace/Patagonia and looks like they are just about to climb a mountain or jump into a kayak. Probably because they are. People are seriously outdoorsy here and everyone either just came from or is about to work out. I think I am the only mom at my son's school who drives her kid. Everyone else shows up with bike trailers and jogging strollers, even in the dead of freakin' winter!
The other night I was walking in Hyde Park near my house and a lady walked towards me with her two kids. She had sparkly flip flops, a pink purse, streaked hair, a fake tan, and one of those bump-it hairdos. Oh my, I thought, someone is visiting from Meridian (Meridian is a suburb of Boise and every woman there looks like she is auditioning for The Real Housewives Of Meridian. Except, they wouldn’t do a Real Housewives of Meridian because Meridian is in Idaho and so fucking boring, no one would watch). The look is akin to that phony Southern California look except cheaper. It's very "Orange County goes to the trailer park".
The fact that I even noticed she wasn’t from my neighborhood surprised me. Maybe I am starting to feel at home here.
Kind of.
I think of Boise as my home until I am reminded of the cool, breezy allure of California. My sister emailed me the video for Train’s “Save Me, San Francisco”. It made me sad.
It made me long for the beach and the ocean breeze over the Golden Gate, even though I know that image is scrubbed clean and not real. In reality, the beach has filthy seagulls and sometimes smells like a sewer.
I can’t help it, I still miss it and it's still home.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Helicopter Parenting
The very first day we moved into our house in Boise, two neighborhood children came by to ask if my kids could come over to play. They said their mom noticed that kids were moving in and sent them down to our house. She thought it would give us a break so we could finish unloading the moving truck.
I immediately thought this was odd. Did this lady actually think I would just send my kids scampering down the street to her house on my first day in a new neighborhood without even laying eyes on her? Plus, how could I trust someone who would send her own kids to a stranger’s house? I was highly suspicious.
As the days passed, I noticed that the entire neighborhood was crawling with unattended children. I mean, they were everywhere! Riding bikes, playing at the school across the street, pulling each other in wagons, walking dogs, running lemonade stands all by themselves. It was summer time but this was ridiculous. There wasn’t a parent in sight!
To be honest, I don’t even know if our California neighborhood had other children. No one, and I mean no one, played outside unless it was in the back yard with a parent watching over them.
My daughter’s best friend in Idaho, however, lives right next door. Her parents completely let her roam the neighborhood unattended and she is wildly independent. We’ve nicknamed her Huck Finn. She is creative and outdoorsy and has taught my daughter all kinds of wonderful things like how to collect and press wildflowers or where to pick berries (that her Mom later turns into the best jam).
A few weeks ago the two of them had an impromptu garage sale on our front lawn. They spent all morning picking out toys to sell, making signs, and setting up all of their stuff. We live on a busy street and there is a ton of foot traffic in our neighborhood so they actually made some sales. At one point, they became bored and decided to go ride the tree swing in our backyard. My daughter stopped, “Wait, what about all of our stuff? We should take turns on the swing so that one of us is always out here to watch so no one steals anything.” Her friend said, “Really, you worry too much. This is a safe neighborhood. No one is going to steal our stuff.”
I think that is good advice for all of us.
Our kids actually did make friends with those kids we met on moving day. They are darling kids and they have attentive, loving parents who just happen to think that kids need to be able to run free. It took me a while, but I do let my 9 year old run down to their house now to see if they can play and she is allowed to just head home when she is done. Unless it is dark, then she has to call me first so I can step onto the porch and watch her walk home.
Recently, one of those kids was selling girl scout cookies and asked if my daughter could come along. I asked if her mom was going with them and she said, “No, I go by myself as long as I only go 5 blocks from my house in each direction.”
Umm, no. Wandering unattended, knocking on stranger’s doors still isn’t okay with me. So, I let my daughter go but I followed along.
I’m getting better but I can’t retire the helicopter completely.
I immediately thought this was odd. Did this lady actually think I would just send my kids scampering down the street to her house on my first day in a new neighborhood without even laying eyes on her? Plus, how could I trust someone who would send her own kids to a stranger’s house? I was highly suspicious.
As the days passed, I noticed that the entire neighborhood was crawling with unattended children. I mean, they were everywhere! Riding bikes, playing at the school across the street, pulling each other in wagons, walking dogs, running lemonade stands all by themselves. It was summer time but this was ridiculous. There wasn’t a parent in sight!
To be honest, I don’t even know if our California neighborhood had other children. No one, and I mean no one, played outside unless it was in the back yard with a parent watching over them.
My daughter’s best friend in Idaho, however, lives right next door. Her parents completely let her roam the neighborhood unattended and she is wildly independent. We’ve nicknamed her Huck Finn. She is creative and outdoorsy and has taught my daughter all kinds of wonderful things like how to collect and press wildflowers or where to pick berries (that her Mom later turns into the best jam).
A few weeks ago the two of them had an impromptu garage sale on our front lawn. They spent all morning picking out toys to sell, making signs, and setting up all of their stuff. We live on a busy street and there is a ton of foot traffic in our neighborhood so they actually made some sales. At one point, they became bored and decided to go ride the tree swing in our backyard. My daughter stopped, “Wait, what about all of our stuff? We should take turns on the swing so that one of us is always out here to watch so no one steals anything.” Her friend said, “Really, you worry too much. This is a safe neighborhood. No one is going to steal our stuff.”
I think that is good advice for all of us.
Our kids actually did make friends with those kids we met on moving day. They are darling kids and they have attentive, loving parents who just happen to think that kids need to be able to run free. It took me a while, but I do let my 9 year old run down to their house now to see if they can play and she is allowed to just head home when she is done. Unless it is dark, then she has to call me first so I can step onto the porch and watch her walk home.
Recently, one of those kids was selling girl scout cookies and asked if my daughter could come along. I asked if her mom was going with them and she said, “No, I go by myself as long as I only go 5 blocks from my house in each direction.”
Umm, no. Wandering unattended, knocking on stranger’s doors still isn’t okay with me. So, I let my daughter go but I followed along.
I’m getting better but I can’t retire the helicopter completely.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Bieber Fever... Catch It!
I decided to take my 9 yr old daughter to see the new Justin Bieber movie. She likes the "Baby" song but I wouldn't consider her a huge Bieber fan. I thought the movie would be fun and might have some good lessons in it. I mean, his story is inspirational. A kid born to a teenage mother in a small town in Canada. Then, based on pure talent and fueled by social media, becomes a huge sensation without the help of either Disney or Nickelodeon. Amazing. I thought the whole night would be about showing my daughter the importance of following your dreams and never giving up.
However, something bizarre happened to my child during that film. That Bieber kid smiled at the camera, flipped that hair, and she was gone. Really gone. I mean, she went completely insane. When she first started screaming, I thought she was kidding. She is a little bit of a ham and very sarcastic. So, I presumed she was making fun of the entire experience because most girls in the theater were screaming. Once I realized she was seriously going nuts, I was shocked and a little scared. I could not get her to settle down for the next two hours. When Justin sang, "I Want Someone to Love", my sweet little girl screamed, "Pick Me! Pick Me!", at the screen. Yikes. I underestimated the power of Bieber and felt like I was watching her turn into a pre-teen before my eyes.
There is just something about that Bieber kid. He's irresistible.
I have to admit, the movie was very sweet. I had to choke back tears when Justin's dad, filled with pride, broke down the first time he saw his son perform in concert.
The funniest part of the night, however, was my daughter's best friend. She was no Bieber fan but came along with us for fun, and for the popcorn. While waiting in line outside the theater, she mocked the whole experience.
"I don't get it", she said. "I can't take that kid seriously. He is almost 17 and I'm pretty sure I'm bigger than him." She is ten, by the way, and a total tomboy. Half way through the movie, however, she turned to my daughter and screamed, "Oh my god, he is so cute!"
Those two girls screamed his songs all the way home in the car.
There you have it, Bieber Fever.
It's contagious.
However, something bizarre happened to my child during that film. That Bieber kid smiled at the camera, flipped that hair, and she was gone. Really gone. I mean, she went completely insane. When she first started screaming, I thought she was kidding. She is a little bit of a ham and very sarcastic. So, I presumed she was making fun of the entire experience because most girls in the theater were screaming. Once I realized she was seriously going nuts, I was shocked and a little scared. I could not get her to settle down for the next two hours. When Justin sang, "I Want Someone to Love", my sweet little girl screamed, "Pick Me! Pick Me!", at the screen. Yikes. I underestimated the power of Bieber and felt like I was watching her turn into a pre-teen before my eyes.
There is just something about that Bieber kid. He's irresistible.
I have to admit, the movie was very sweet. I had to choke back tears when Justin's dad, filled with pride, broke down the first time he saw his son perform in concert.
The funniest part of the night, however, was my daughter's best friend. She was no Bieber fan but came along with us for fun, and for the popcorn. While waiting in line outside the theater, she mocked the whole experience.
"I don't get it", she said. "I can't take that kid seriously. He is almost 17 and I'm pretty sure I'm bigger than him." She is ten, by the way, and a total tomboy. Half way through the movie, however, she turned to my daughter and screamed, "Oh my god, he is so cute!"
Those two girls screamed his songs all the way home in the car.
There you have it, Bieber Fever.
It's contagious.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Everyone Has Their Day... and This Is Mine.
I am an Oscar fanatic. The day that the Academy Awards are broadcast is my favorite day of the year. Some people have their birthday as that special day that they set aside to do whatever they want. I have friends who plan a whole weekend of fun around their birthday. I actually think my sister does a whole month for hers. I know moms who take Mother's Day as their "I am doing whatever I want and you ("you" meaning spouse and kids) will either a) be expected to attend and enjoy whatever I plan or b) get out of my way so I can relax." Men spend whole weeks dedicated to the Super Bowl, World Series, or whatever.
For me, that day is the Oscars.
I have adored movies all of my life. I still remember the distinct feeling of sadness that came over me when the credits of Grease scrolled across the theater screen. I didn't want it to end! I was five and after a lot of begging, my dad had agreed to take my sister and I to see it. I loved every second of that movie. Spontaneous singing and dancing?! I was hooked! On the way out, my Dad said that he wasn't so sure he should have taken us to see it. I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't get any of the inappropriate innuendos. I don't think I even realized Rizzo (my favorite character, by the way) was pregnant, which is kind of a major subplot. Whatever, it didn't matter. I was a movie junkie for life!
To this day, nothing is more fun to me that hiding away in a theater and getting lost for a few hours in another world. I love to go with my husband, with a friend, in big groups (hey to my Twilight peeps), or just by myself. Between the theater and Netflix, I probably watch an average of five movies a week.
The Oscars are the annual denouement of my movie watching. My husband once explained to someone that it was such an important day for me that he sometimes felt he should buy me a gift for the occasion. When my daughter was about 4, she woke me up on the day of the Academy Awards by saying, "Happy Oscar Day, Mommy!"
I put months of effort into that day. The Oscar season, from September through January, is when I really start getting into it. I scour movie and Oscar websites to get a list going of potential Oscar movies and then proceed to see every single one of them. I watch every award show preceding the Oscars (Golden Globes, Critics Choice, Screen Actor's Guild), usually while simultaneously watching live blogs about the show on my favorite websites.
Back when I started Oscar watching (as us insiders call it), I decided the best way to celebrate the Oscars was to throw an Oscar party.
I soon realized my mistake.
Not having put months of research into the Oscars, my guests were more interested in the party than in the actual award show. I was annoyed when people talked over the red carpet interviews (this is half the fun, people!) and was shocked and dismayed when everyone kept chatting throughout the entire telecast. They were talking about the show and movies in general but still... shut up!
That was the end of that party. The problem I faced was that I still wanted the party. I loved decorating for it, creating an Oscar ballot with prizes, and planning the menu (always with food themed around the nominated movies). I just didn't want the guests.
So, my idea was born: The party where no one is invited.
It is honestly my best idea ever. My husband and children know the drill. My daughter dresses up like a movie starlet and everyone in my family does an Oscar ballet. During the pre-oscar telecast and the red carpet coverage, they are basically required to entertain, bathe, and feed themselves. I won't so much as help find a lost hair clip. Then, they sit down and watch the show with me. We chat only about the show during commercial breaks but there isn't a peep out of anyone during the actual show. My sister is the only other guest. She loves a good party and as soon as she realized she had to get on the Oscar watch band wagon or miss the party, she was in! Plus, I endlessly send her updates and information about what movies she needs to see based on order of importance and release dates. I basically bossed and annoyed her into being an Oscar watcher.
This year is no different. We are currently three weeks away from the Academy Awards and I cannot wait! Since I have moved out of state, my sister is flying in for the weekend to watch the show with me. I am doing a candy bar this year with a candy to represent each best picture nominee. Included are Boston Baked Beans for The Fighter, English Toffee for The King's Speech, Crystal Rock Candy for Winter's Bone (that last one is funny if you've seen the movie).
Anyway, it will be the best party that no one is invited to that ever existed. And, I am lucky enough to have a husband and kids who not only put up with my craziness but also join in on the fun. Life is good.
For me, that day is the Oscars.
I have adored movies all of my life. I still remember the distinct feeling of sadness that came over me when the credits of Grease scrolled across the theater screen. I didn't want it to end! I was five and after a lot of begging, my dad had agreed to take my sister and I to see it. I loved every second of that movie. Spontaneous singing and dancing?! I was hooked! On the way out, my Dad said that he wasn't so sure he should have taken us to see it. I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't get any of the inappropriate innuendos. I don't think I even realized Rizzo (my favorite character, by the way) was pregnant, which is kind of a major subplot. Whatever, it didn't matter. I was a movie junkie for life!
To this day, nothing is more fun to me that hiding away in a theater and getting lost for a few hours in another world. I love to go with my husband, with a friend, in big groups (hey to my Twilight peeps), or just by myself. Between the theater and Netflix, I probably watch an average of five movies a week.
The Oscars are the annual denouement of my movie watching. My husband once explained to someone that it was such an important day for me that he sometimes felt he should buy me a gift for the occasion. When my daughter was about 4, she woke me up on the day of the Academy Awards by saying, "Happy Oscar Day, Mommy!"
I put months of effort into that day. The Oscar season, from September through January, is when I really start getting into it. I scour movie and Oscar websites to get a list going of potential Oscar movies and then proceed to see every single one of them. I watch every award show preceding the Oscars (Golden Globes, Critics Choice, Screen Actor's Guild), usually while simultaneously watching live blogs about the show on my favorite websites.
Back when I started Oscar watching (as us insiders call it), I decided the best way to celebrate the Oscars was to throw an Oscar party.
I soon realized my mistake.
Not having put months of research into the Oscars, my guests were more interested in the party than in the actual award show. I was annoyed when people talked over the red carpet interviews (this is half the fun, people!) and was shocked and dismayed when everyone kept chatting throughout the entire telecast. They were talking about the show and movies in general but still... shut up!
That was the end of that party. The problem I faced was that I still wanted the party. I loved decorating for it, creating an Oscar ballot with prizes, and planning the menu (always with food themed around the nominated movies). I just didn't want the guests.
So, my idea was born: The party where no one is invited.
It is honestly my best idea ever. My husband and children know the drill. My daughter dresses up like a movie starlet and everyone in my family does an Oscar ballet. During the pre-oscar telecast and the red carpet coverage, they are basically required to entertain, bathe, and feed themselves. I won't so much as help find a lost hair clip. Then, they sit down and watch the show with me. We chat only about the show during commercial breaks but there isn't a peep out of anyone during the actual show. My sister is the only other guest. She loves a good party and as soon as she realized she had to get on the Oscar watch band wagon or miss the party, she was in! Plus, I endlessly send her updates and information about what movies she needs to see based on order of importance and release dates. I basically bossed and annoyed her into being an Oscar watcher.
This year is no different. We are currently three weeks away from the Academy Awards and I cannot wait! Since I have moved out of state, my sister is flying in for the weekend to watch the show with me. I am doing a candy bar this year with a candy to represent each best picture nominee. Included are Boston Baked Beans for The Fighter, English Toffee for The King's Speech, Crystal Rock Candy for Winter's Bone (that last one is funny if you've seen the movie).
Anyway, it will be the best party that no one is invited to that ever existed. And, I am lucky enough to have a husband and kids who not only put up with my craziness but also join in on the fun. Life is good.
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