Last Christmas Eve, I tried to answer as many questions as I could in a massive BLOG MARATHON that lasted all night. This year, in the countdown to Christmas, I am going to try to do something LIKE that. Throughout the day, I will post ANSWERS to your questions on a rolling basis. But let’s get started!
Jo07 asks: what do you do when someone gets you a gift unexpectedly you've gotten them nothing?
When I was just a tiny mj, I was pretty good with my homework, generally. But I had a terrible memory for Kindergarten show and tell day. I would always find out about show and tell when we gathered in line to go into school and I would go into a SILENT INNER PANIC about the fact that I hadn’t brought anything. The first time I remember this happening, I yoinked a stick off one of the trees outside—a little bent one. When show and tell came around, I told everyone it was a snake stick. It was what baby snakes used to learn how to crawl. And another time, I found out when show and tell started so I just had to roll with it and show my ARM, like that was what I meant to bring all along. I showed it all around the room and told everyone what I did with it. Pretty slick, right?
This presence of mind is pretty remarkable because, as I was just remembering today, I was a pretty clueless kid. Weird stuff was always happening to me and it’s ONLY NOW that I realize how strange it was. Take, for instance, the bus driver I had when I was in first grade who was this seventy-year old playboy who used to stop the bus and take us into McDonald’s every single morning because he was hitting on the manager, a saucy wench of seventy herself. We were late pretty much every day because of this. I had no idea this was weird!
Or what about the creepy bus driver we had when I was in second grade (once they fired the other guy because he used to take us into McDonald’s every morning without permission and make us late for school), the one who used to have me come and stand BETWEEN THE SAFETY BAR AND HER SEAT to MASSAGE HER SHOULDERS as she drove. I did this! Why? Because some adult told me to. Did I like it? No. But she would always say, “Maureen, come rub my shoulders,” and I would sigh and put down my book and when we reached a red light I was squeeze my tiny body into that space and do her bidding. How did this unspeakably creepy behavior come to an end? That would be when THE BUS CRASHED. Yes, we LOST OUR BRAKES* as we were going down an incline and took out two other cars and there I was squeezed into what was more or less the most dangerous spot possible on the bus. I was still there when the police came on to the bus, and they were like, “What the hell are you doing there?” Let me tell you the one answer a police officer loves to hear from a child: “I was massaging the bus driver.”
Or, when I was in high school, and we had this 23 year-old bus driver who I used to talk to as we were driving around. And then he started asking me out. Every. Single. Day. He was all, “You could tell your parents you’re going somewhere else and I’ll meet you down the street and we’ll go to dinner.” At first, I tried to laugh it off. Then I tried to explain that I was busy, forever. That my parents locked me in the basement. That was allergic to being outside. Anything. This guy would just not stop. So I was telling my friend Betty Vox about it one day in her homeroom and her teacher overheard and she reported the guy. He was so furious at me that he screamed at me for five minutes and then HE RIPPED OUT MY SEAT.
Now, that may sound like a completely irrelevant bunch of anecdotes about my very bad luck with school bus drivers and not an answer to the question of all, but it is, in fact, my way of LEADING you to the answer. What I’m saying is . . . don’t massage the bus driver. Maybe just don’t massage, because 9 times out of 10, that is a creepy offer. Like, if your co-worker in accounting gives you a scented holiday candle, don’t just grab a post-it note and write “GOOD FOR ONE FREE MASSAGE BY ME!” on it and hand it over while making squishy-squishy motions with your hands. Likewise, if someone in your class gives you a gift certificate you weren’t expecting, don’t then ask them out every single day for the rest of the year and then if they complain physically tear their homeroom desk from its moorings and turn it on its side in the back of the room. Or if your friend’s grandmother gives you some homemade cookies, don’t forcibly take her to McDonald’s every single morning at seven thirty and then hit on the staff as she sits there, looking at her hashbrown in confusion. Some people will say these points are self-evident, but not all. Not all. And if I can reach just one person, this blog has done its job.
The stick and arm tricks work pretty well, though. Try those.***
OR! You can give them a FREE SUITE SCARLETT! Always have this link ready.
*vampires? ** This really happened. All of these really happened. In the case of the massaged bus driver . . . it just came up because my mom, who is a school nurse, was telling me about a bus crash at her school today. Luckily, it wasn’t serious and no one was hurt, but she had to deal with it. And I said, “Remember that time my bus crashed?” And she said yes, and how she was so mad because the school or district didn’t TELL her that the bus crashed—they said the bus stalled (which our buses did ALL OF THE TIME). So I got home and told her all about this crash, and she was furious that no one told her and she called the school and complained. And literally the only other time my mom called my grade school and complained was in eight grade when she found out that I knew absolutely nothing about the sea battle between the Monitor and the Merrimack. She’s convinced this is pretty much the most important thing that has happened, ever. Well, I can tell you that I have graduated from college and grad school and I have fancy degrees and I still don’t know %^$# about the Monitor and the Merrimack. So I don’t know what that says about me, or naval history, but anyway, I said, “Yeah, and I was standing between the safety bar and the driver’s seat because she used to make her massage her shoulders . . .” And it was only AS I WAS SPEAKING that it occurred to me just how extraordinarily creepy it is. *** On second thought, giving parts of your body as gifts might also be creepy. And “snake stick” doesn’t sound much better. Don’t do either of these things.
It has always been my dream to give a present to EVERYONE who reads this blog (or Twitter, or my mind). So I went to my publisher to see what I could do. Now, normally, I am not permitted in the building because of a minor misunderstanding we simply refer to as the "big fire incident," but I managed to get in through the fire escape (which they had foolishly left open and functional, perhaps in the light of the "big fire incident") and I said, "Hey, guys, some people are running short of cash this season. Can't we do something to help out? Why don't we give everyone a free book? That would promote Cheer. Free book, I say! Free book!"
Everyone in the men's room was in total agreement. So was security!
I went to The Man with my idea, and The Man liked what he heard.
After I signed a little agreement to never sneak on to the premises again, they set to work on a program to give EVERYONE a FREE COPY OF SUITE SCARLETT!
It begins today. It begins NOW. This holiday season, I am pleased to present COMPLETELY FREE COPIES OF SUITE SCARLETT to YOU!
SOME QUESTIONS ANSWERED
What's the catch?
There is no catch. You just get the electronic book for free. Happy Holidays! Wait, what?
You get the book for free. Right now. It's yours. Take it. *gives*
How?
You click here, which takes you to the bulletin page of my site. Once there, you will see all kinds of buttons with little pictures. Hit the picture of the device you want to read it on, and BAM, book.
Is it the whole book or some weird short version?
It's the whole book AND a bit of the SEQUEL. It's, like, MORE than the book.
What devices can I choose from?
You can get versions of the book for iPhone, Kindle, Barnes and Noble Nook, or just an online copy you can read on any computer. (Note: Kindle downloads begin at 12 midnight Pacific time, so just over an hour from the time of this posting. DON'T hit preorder. It may take a few hours for the BN and Amazon systems to catch up, but they should be up and running by tomorrow morning. If it's telling you to buy it right now, wait a few hours.)
How many copies can I have? Like, if wanted to send my friends this link can THEY also have copies?
They're electronic so there are an ENDLESS NUMBER OF COPIES. ANYONE can have a copy. It's available from now until January 15th.
Some of my friends are kind of slow on the uptake. Can I tell them I BOUGHT THEM THE BOOK FOR THE HOLIDAYS and give them the link?
If you are so inclined. I want to give this book to a lot of people! How can I do this?
You can SHARE the love by hitting the SHARE button and posting the box to your Facebook profile so that everyone can have some FREE BOOK. Or you can just pass the link via Twitter or ANY OTHER FORM OF COMMUNICATION YOU USE. In fact, I would love it if you did so. The more, truly, the merrier.
So you can write a short blog today because you are giving out a whole BOOK?
mighty_mudha asks: So, the boy and I are spending xmas with his family....first time meeting them....any advice? (I'm overly nervous...)
The holidays are a wonderful time to get to know the parents of a significant other—but the experience can go HORRIBLY WRONG if you are not careful. Thankfully, you asked me in time. Right now, go and get as many objects relating to your S.O. as you can get your hands on. Go! Get them!
You see, the main thing parents of an S.O. want to know is that you REVERE their child in the same way they do. Well, not in the same EXACT way, but they want to see the depth of your appreciation. And the FIRST way you do this is by making some tribute tree ornaments, glorifying your S.O.
I realize that some of you are craftier than others and that some of you may find the prospect of making these ornaments daunting. But don’t worry. These can be as simple as attaching a picture to a pre-made ornament. I’ve made one of my friend John Green to show you how easily this can be done.
This simple and elegant ornament requires only scissors and tape.
You will undoubtedly have a collection of totems from your relationship which you have saved and can easily convert into ornaments simply by attaching a hook or a bit of ribbon, and perhaps a short note with a bit of a memory! Here is are two examples:
Your collection of totems can be easily converted in a matter of minutes.
Now, the key part of this is PRESENTATION. You don’t want to just shove this box of ornaments at your hosts. You need to decorate their tree with them. The easiest way to do this is when everyone is sleeping. If you are not staying overnight, the best thing to do is excuse yourself and get outside, taking their car keys with you. Put their car into neutral and push it as far down the street as you can. Then come back in and scream, “SOMEONE HAS STOLEN YOUR CAR!” When everyone runs out, lock the door and get started! If the tree is already decorated, simply remove the decorations and start over. If they do not have a tree, either bring one or hang the decorations on the refrigerator or some other large object. If they have pets, you can also decorate them.
When everyone wakes up or comes in through the window (depending on your situation), they will be ENCHANTED to see what you have done! Imagine the beautiful scene, this display of your love! Don’t worry if no one is talking about your decorating. Sometimes people have trouble expressing very deep emotion. They must just look down, or at each other, or at your S.O. But trust me, your relationship will now be the NUMBER ONE thing on their minds. You have them EXACTLY where you want them. You could easily stop there and you’d be golden, but I think it’s best to press on, burrowing your way further into their hearts like some kind of parasite of love.
At this point, it may be time to eat. This is a major opportunity to impress the parents with your intricate knowledge of your S.O.’s eating habits. It’s important to demonstrate that you are fully prepared—no, fully DETERMINED—to make sure all of their nutritional needs are met. As I am sure you know, real love means exerting control over every single aspect of your S.O.’s existence.
So when the Christmas beastie and the trimmings are being passed around, make sure to examine absolutely everything that goes on to your S.O.’s plate. It might be useful to have a small food scale with you. There are many tiny models that you can slide into a purse or a man-bag, but there is nothing wrong with hauling a larger, industrial model to the table. Be bold. People admire boldness. Whenever your S.O. tries to spoon something on to his or her plate, guide their hand over to the scale. Once you have an accurate measurement of the food, use your computer or a small book on nutrition to calculate the exact nutritional value of each and every serving and edit it as necessary. You might have to bring along some Tupperware containers full of whole grains or steamed vegetables and make up the rest of the plate. (Make sure to have a plastic bag ready for all the unwanted items you scrape off the plate.)
Now that you’ve proven your serious dedication to your S.O.’s health, you need to take that one extra step to prove that you are ready to do anything for them. Nothing, truly nothing, impresses an S.O.’s parents like ACTUALLY SAVING YOUR S.O.’s life RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM. To do this, you are probably going to have to nudge certain things along a little—namely, you have to make it appear that your S.O. is in harm’s way. This can usually be accomplished with little to no injury on the part of your S.O. Here are just some ways you can do this:
Choking is a very effective trick, and you can do this right at the table. If you feel comfortable with your Heimlich skills, you can go ahead and stick a fishbone or small pebble into you S.O.’s meal. If you’re less sure, you can go ahead and perform the maneuver whenever your S.O. coughs. (If you S.O. is not prone to coughing, a quick handful of glitter to the face does the trick wonderfully.) Just get up behind them, pull them out of their seat, grab them around the middle and start squeezing, screaming, “BREATHE, damn you, BREATHE!”
If you are lucky enough to have an S.O. with a very serious allergy, this is a piece of cake. Slip the allergen quietly into the scene and let nature do the rest. MAKE SURE you have the EpiPen or any other necessary medication on the ready, otherwise this is just attempted (or completed) murder, and that will not impress anyone.
I know that for some people this last step might seem like too much, but trust me . . . once you have saved (or appeared to save) your S.O.’s life in front of their parents, they can NEVER REJECT YOU and you can do whatever you want, forever.
I hope this has helped. Please, continue to send your questions, and I will continue to answer them.
UPDATE: Due to popular demand, I am auctioning off the beautiful John Green ornament seen above for CHARITY! The ornament is paper on glass, handcrafted and absolutely one of a kind, with artist's signature. Send your bids in to Twitter. The auction starts NOW and ends at noon tomorrow (EST). The winner will make an online donation to Citymeals on Wheels, and I will send the ornament with my SPECIAL THANKS.
PLUS . . . you will ALSO get the ONE AND ONLY HARDBACK COPY OF SCARLETT FEVER, my PERSONAL copy with my handwritten notes in it. Truly, you cannot get it ANYWHERE else.
As you know, I am an expert on all things Cheer-related, so I am kicking off my annual Cheer Blogs, in which I help YOU solve your holiday conundrums. Recently, many of you have been asking for help buying gifts—specifically, gifts that don’t cost too much.
I know it's bad to encourage commercialism and of course the MAIN thing you should be buying is BOOKS, preferably from your local independent bookseller. But okay. I know some people don't want books, or you have to get something BESIDES books. So I have assembled this list of things you can buy for $5-30, most of which I own and can vouch for.
These bags are awesome. I first saw them at Scott Westerfeld and Justine Larbalestier’s house. They own a half dozen or so. Now, so do I, and I go nowhere without them. They are super durable and fold up into this awesome little ball you can chuck at people’s heads. You just keep one or two in your bag or suitcase and you won’t need any plastic bags at all! Good for the environment, good for you.
A small family of Flip and Tumble bags, waiting for adoption.
HARMONICA, $5-25
I was amazed to discover one day that I had a drawer full of harmonicas. And when I say “full of harmonicas,” I mean that there were two of them. But that is more harmonicas than I was expecting to find. And they are NICE harmonicas, too. They are “professional quality.” So I pulled out one of the harmonicas and IMMEDIATELY played “Happy Days Are Here Again” on it. Like, literally! I never knew I could play the harmonica! Harmonicas are awesome, and an excellent gift for those times when you first start dating someone and you aren’t sure what you “are” yet and you don’t want to freak them out by giving them a piece of jewelry or a vial of your own blood or something like that that just radiates COMMITMENT. Harmonicas are also great gifts for people who really hate their roommates, or for anyone who has a mustache. I think you will find they are RIGHT in many circumstances.
I buy a lot of journals. I don’t know why. I don’t usually write that much in them. But I buy them like a maniac and I’ve taken a real shine to this brand, which makes beautiful ones with great bindings and a handy magnetic clasp to keep them closed and tidy. The bonus part of this is that you can sit and flick the clasp closed over and over. It makes this awesome snick, snick, snick noise that will annoy others but somehow really helps you think. Or at least look like you are thinking. And that is what matters.
I own this one. Snick. Snick. Snick.
FIRE EXTINGUISHER, $10-25
Everyone should own a fire extinguisher. It’s a gift that says you care. It’s best given with a word of loving caution and a deep, unblinking stare. Say something like, “You never know when a fire could break out.” Or, “You’d be amazed at how many things burn.”
Listen to me, and believe me . . . I am OBSESSED with good holiday candles. Every year I go around to ever shop like some kind of deranged bloodhound, sniffing. I sniff and sniff. And I am not easily satisfied. But let me tell you something . . . this candle smells like a frickin’ tree. I bought five of them, and I’m going to buy more. You probably know someone who wants a frickin’ candle. Get them this frickin’ candle. That is all.
"It smells like a frickin' tree." - Maureen Johnson, author, so-called interesting person on Twitter
There’s a store called Fishs Eddy here in New York that just makes awesome weird stuff. I shop there a lot. If you are in NYC, you should, because they have cool crap like mugs with the least-famous presidents on them, or drinking glasses with striptese dancers on them, or big piles of flatware for cheap, and they also have a large assortment of antique disembodied ceramic arms. I am really taken with these plates, which have all kinds of demotivational messages written around the edges, like, “It’s hard to be around you when you eat like this” and “For the love of god stop eating.” They are good, strudy plates too, so you can really fill them up! (This store also has totally awesome scissors too, if you are into scissors.)
So when I was out the other day at the makeup store (the same day I bought the vibrating makeup that keeps breaking and vibrating in my bathroom sink) the saleslady said to me, “You should buy this stuff.” And I said, “What is it?” And she said it is a POTION that keeps your eye makeup on. Now, if you have ever worn eye makeup, you will know that it can rub off and be annoying, and clearly I was in the mood that day to be convinced so I took it. I don’t know what is in this stuff—magic, or uranium, or glue or something—but it totally works. A good gift for people who wear makeup, and a lot better than a stupid vibrating sponge.
Now with NEW WAND
GAP SLIPPER BOOTIES, $25
I own a pair of these in white. They’re nice. I originally bought them because they looked warm and comfy and I thought they would be great to wear on writing days at home. I have discovered their other advantages. Like if you live above a crazy person who sends security after you if you close your windows, or attacks your cable guy while he is installing your Verison FIOS, or calls the apartment complex’s carpet police to say you don’t have enough carpeting even though you totally do and in fact went and bought thousands of dollars worth of deep-pile shag rugs to shut her up but nothing you do will satisfy her, nothing, so you essentially carpet your feet but still that isn’t enough! Anyway, these slipper booties are great for that! Also, you can wear them to walk home from the emergency room at 4am after you have a reaction to medication and you are so ashamed that an ambulance had to drive you ACROSS THE STREET that you go home on foot, which is fine because you are ACROSS THE STREET.
I don’t own one of these yet, but you better believe I mean to. Because . . . mini helicopter. There is nothing a right-thinking person can’t do with one of these babies. Check out this sweet video:
See what I mean? Don’t you just want to cover that thing in post-it notes and fly them into unsuspecting people’s heads? I mean, that is what I am going to do with it, when I eventually get one.
Have CHEER-related questions.? Hit me. I am here, ready to help.
So, it’s December. Those of you who have been around these parts for a while know that I AM FAN OF THE HOLIDAYS. I can barely contain myself through the year, so eager am I to put up my tree, hang the shiny things, and let loose the hamsters of joy. Christmas carols, holiday stories, cookies, stockings, general merriment . . . I am there, 100%!
For the past three years, I have done a holiday card giveaway. For the first two, I made each card myself, until I reduced myself to such a broken condition that I had to get the cards printed. Then last year, I got double or triple the requests. I spent six weeks singing and addressing the cards—working right through Christmas Eve—until I was once again a broken (but CHEERFUL!) wreck.
This year, I am faced with a big deadline, and I have finally admitted to myself that the card thing has gotten away from me. I do not have the time or the muscle power in my freakishly small hands to write out the hundreds of cards again.
“Fie!” I said, when I realized this. “How will I spread CHEER?”
How could I be CHEERFUL under these circumstances?
And then, it hit me . . . I could TWITTER my Cheer.
Let's start December off right with the 13 Days of Cheer! Here’s how this works: every day, I will pick someone at random on Twitter who replies or otherwise writes to or mentions me and that person wins a book! (One of mine, of course. And by “mine,” I mean, written by me, not just a book I own.) There is a wide selection on offer, including two copies of the as-yet-unreleased Scarlett Fever! It could be any time of the day. You will never know when the CHEER ATTACK is coming.
Now, of course, this isn’t the ONLY way I am going to spread Cheer. This is like a warm-up exercise for the first half of the month, before I get the BIG CHEER on. And, as is my custom, I will answer your Cheer-related questions. If there is something you need to know about the holidays, I am here to help.
Many of you have recently written to inquire if I am, in fact, dead. Because during this, one of my favoritest times of year, I have been silent for almost three weeks! (Not really THAT silent. I was on Facebook for much of this, giving brief, meaningless, insane updates. Also giving away books. I like Facebook.)
So for 25 days I have been working away . . . on CHEER. And signing a few hundred cards for the MJ Holiday Card Workshop. Also, I finished my book. Yes, I was deep in Scrooge’s workshop, writing away by the light of one guttering candle to get Scarlett Fever done.
And now I am in Philadelphia for Christmas! I almost didn’t make it. It started when I booked my train ticket, and then I got on the train, which was oversold. So I was crowded into a seat. I had five bags with me—two overhead, one behind the seat, one by my feet, and one essentially on my head. I heard the conductor say the name of my stop and say it was the SECOND STOP. So I took out my computer and prepared to do a little work on something you’ll see below.
And then, we didn’t go anywhere. Apparently, the rails broke. We sat and we sat and we sat. I barely noticed when the train finally started going. So there I was, minding my own business, working away, computer open, coat off, and we finally slowed to the first stop and it was . . . MY STOP.
And I was still . . . computer open, coat off, headphones on, five bags in all directions. And the conductor started yelling, “THIS TRAIN IS GOING TO HARRISBURG!”
Harrisburg is very far from Philadelphia, and I was very far from getting off the train, so what happened next was me yelling, “#^$^&*^#$&*^&*%!%!!!” I slammed my computer shut, but for some unknown reason, it started to play music OUT LOUD. Specifically, it played THE GONK, which is the music featured in the thing you will see below.
One thing you kind of don’t want? Is to be jumping around a crowded train, yanking out bags, swearing profusely . . . AND blasting The Gonk from your bag. But that’s how I arrived home for the holiday. And I only made it because a man blocked the door with his body, giving me just enough time to eject myself and my five bags and my musical accompaniment on to the train platform. My computer was so mad at being slammed shut that it refused to stop playing The Gonk as I walked through the train station.
I was very quiet in the car.
I felt much better when we got back to my house. When we pulled up, it was all decorated. We Johnsons go all out in the Cheer department. I learned from the best. Every single room in our house is decorated, many with items actually made by my mother, who has the gene that allows her to make VERY FANCY DECORATIONS. So I was all ready for the Cheer. I opened the door and saw the thousands of twinkling lights, and our dozens of nutcrackers, and our bows and our wreaths and our snowmen. I looked over and saw our Christmas village (the basis of the Flobie Santa Village in Let it Snow).
And there was an alarm going off, and my mother was on the ten foot ladder screaming, “ALL I DID WAS PUT OUT A SCENTED OIL DIFFUSER AND IT HAS BEEN GOING OFF FOR A HALF AN HOUR AND I CANNOT GET IT TO STOP.”
So then we had to Cheerfully pull some circuit breakers and Cheerfully call the electrician.
Now, I have many questions here that I have not answered as I was gone for so long. So I will try to make that up this week, because as far as I am concerned, Cheer STARTS on Christmas! But let me try to answer a few. And let me try to do it in a way I have never done before. I am going to try to SORT OF LIVE BLOG some Cheer! Every hour until Christmas, I will UPDATE this blog and answer at least one CHEER RELATED QUESTION from the comments! So leave them now, and as you wait for Santa, I will STUDY the questions and provide the most advanced CHEER-RELATED answers I can!
ALSO! I promised a signed Let it Snow to a random commenter before! I will announce that winner at midnight, as I finish answering questions! And I will give out ANOTHER copy tonight, to ANOTHER random commenter! I just can’t stop!
So, leave your questions, and I’ll GET ON THEM! Let’s have CHRISTMAS EVE TOGETHER!
Oh, and The Gonk? Is here:
QUESTION ONE, 9:23 PM
Gabriella said... Amazon is sadly bringing cheer down. They have FAILED to deliver half our family's presents on christmas eve like they PROMISED. What are the odds that santa had them in his possession and will show up in the middle of the night/before we leave for the grandparents house with all of them?
They have failed, Gabriella, and I'm afraid Santa can't help you. I know this because he just went down our street in the fire truck, wrapped in plastic. This is a tradition in our town. Every Christmas Eve, usually when we are having dinner, we hear the sirens in the distance and my mom says, "EVERYBODY GET UP SANTA IS COMING ON THE FIRE TRUCK GET UP NOW, NOW, NOW . . ." and we have to drop everything and stand outside. And inevitably, as he did this year, he turns down some other street, so we stand there for about fifteen minutes but my mother, who is CONSUMED by Cheer, refuses to let us go back inside until we have WAVED TO SANTA. So I saw him and he does not have your stuff. I think the plastic was for the rain.
But you are not without hope, because I totally have your back and have some gifts you can get RIGHT NOW if you hurry and they are fine, fine gifts.
First of all, you can get this:
Yes, that's a Hannah Montana full coverage bra in 34a, which anyone can wear, even guys! If it doesn't fit as a bra, you can use it as a hairband. It was in Macy's which I think is still open so HURRY . . .
Failing that, you can go to Seven Eleven right now. Bring a plastic bag, like the one Santa was in, and get some CHILI AND CHEESE.
This is both delicious and economical. Nothing says Christmas like a bag of chili and cheese!
QUESTION TWO, 9:35 PM
Halle said... What do you think about chrismtas lights in a washroom? And what do you think if said christmas lights are radiating a demonic red glow that instills fear into anybody needing to pee?
I am for them. They make much more sense to me than those scary doll clamps we demonstrate in the video. Also, we have such things HERE, IN THIS HOUSE. Yes, even our bathrooms get their own special bubble lights. Except for the downstairs powder room, which is the domain of my lawyer, C. Catso Fangola. That is where he keeps his legal office and litter box, and the bubble light gives him the shakes and makes him howl at the wall.
Remember, SANTA is just SATAN spelled wrong! So that may help you think of your demonic glow as more of a Cheer-glow!
QUESTION THREE, 9:45 PM
Chelsea said... So... Let's say your mom has had a Very Bad Tooth Infection and is currently on antibiotics, but all of a sudden it starts to go insane and she almost has to go to the emergency room. But she ends up not going to the E.R. because you called beforehand and they said they couldn't do anything and there was a three hour wait. What would you do to Cheer your mom up?
Let me tell you a Christmas story, Chelsea, that actually happened to me.
When I was a kid, I was not exactly Little Mozart. Thoughts came slowly to the tiny mj brain. So, I was sitting there after a Christmas party with a toy I had gotten, but instead of playing with the toy, I decided the thing to do was break off some of the Styrofoam and stick it up my nose. As you do.
So I went in to the kitchen to proudly show my mother what I was achieved, and she said, "WHY DID YOU STICK STYROFOAM UP YOUR NOSE?" And I just smiled enigmatically, probably because I had no idea. I mean, if you go around sticking Styrofoam up your nose, you are probably not thinking very deeply.
My mother, who is a nurse and Knows Things, got a flashlight and looked up my nose and decided that this was very bad, because the Styrofoam might get into my sinus. So she turned off the oven, where our dinner was cooking, and packed me up. See, it was snowing. A lot. It was a huge storm. And we had to drive to the hospital in it. (Well, my parents did. Or one of them did.) The drive, which normally took ten minutes took and hour and a half, and when we pulled into the parking lot . . . I sneezed. Out came the Styrofoam.
My mother was not amused and decided that since we had risked our lives getting to the ER in the first place, I was going to be seen. So we went in and it was all deserted, because there was a storm. So everyone was paying attention to me . . . the little child who stuck foam up her nose. And you know who was there? SANTA! Yes, there was a hospital Santa and he was TOTALLY BORED, and in came this little kid, and he had something to do! So I got a TOY!
And my mother said, "OH NO SHE IS ALWAYS GOING TO THINK THAT IF YOU STICK THINGS UP YOUR NOSE YOU WILL GET TO SEE SANTA." And you know what, Chelsea? I DO think that!
I realize this may not help you directly, but if you meditate on this story for a while, I am sure you will be able to make the connections.
QUESTION FOUR, 10:00 PM
Joanna said... Any Christmas Eve suggestions for, say, a Jew who is stuck inside because of some freak snowstorms and has in fact barely left the house in 5 days because of said snow and is now going a little STIR CRAZY? You know, just hypothetically.
Two words, Joanna: puppet show.
NOT A QUESTION, A CORRECTION 10:05 PM
My mother has just informed me that I put paper up my nose at home. And then, shortly after, I put Styrofoam up my nose as an attempt to repeat the experience.
QUESTION FIVE, 10:25 PM
Devyn said... How do you say HAPPY HOLIDAYS--OHH AND I 'LIKE' YOU! To a friend? :O!
Devyn, I assume you are asking how you tell someone that you LIKE like them. This is always tricky, but I have a method that is very useful. It is called, "I AM HAVING ONE OF MY EPISODES."
Here's how it works.
When yo see your friend, make sure to look good, but not TOO good. Don't, for example, get dressed up in a top hat and tails. Keep it casual good. Just hang out and talk for a while, make some jokes, act like everything is normal. And then, just say, "I LIKE like you."
Then immediately clutch your head, sway a bit and yell "OH NO! I AM HAVING ONE OF MY EPISODES." Fall to the ground.
If the friend is creeped out by your admission, he or she will probably sneak away and leave you for dead. If the person likes you, he or she will stay and cradle you in his or her arms until you come back to consciousness, which you should do in about five minutes.
If the person does not seem to feel the same way, this method gives you an out. Because later you can say, "What happened? I woke up and you were gone?"
And then the person will start mumbling something about just liking you as a friend. Cut them off quickly and say, "What are you talking about? I was having ONE OF MY EPISODES. And when I have an episode, I say some words twice and then pass out."
And then the person will be embarrassed and you will have the upper hand, forever.
For the holidays, do this in a Santa hat or festive sweater.
QUESTION SIX, 11:00 PM
hannah said... what if you are trying to enjoy a nice christmas eve with your parents, watching Its a Wonderful Life, and then your brother comes home with 5 of his very loud and obnoxious friends who want to play poker at your kitchen table for just a few min. your mom says sure why not?! they have now been here for 45min and are getting louder by the min. help me...
Stay calm, Hannah. I've got this. Here's what you do. Take your computer and get as close to them as possible. Crank up the volume, expand the screen, and play this:
Do this three times. This will upset them and make it very hard for them to play. Watch them closely. They will start making mistakes. Then, hit them with this:
Stay strong, Hannah. Keep the computer on them. And as it plays, mutter the word "tampons" under your breath.
They will see the error of their ways and immediately leave to commit acts of CHEER.
QUESTION SEVEN, 11:35 PM
Nadia Murti said... What should one do when confronted by loud parents who refuse to stop singing ABBA? When these parents cannot sing?
WHERE DO YOU LIVE? I WILL BE THERE IN TEN MINUTES.
QUESTION EIGHT, 11:50 PM
SarahE said... Did you know that on Rollercoaster Tycoon you can actually manipulate the people in the park? At the exit, if you stop them from leaving with a no entry sign, they get very depressed and drag themselves around, heads hanging forlornly. You can also drown them. One time, when I logged onto the game, I realized that my sister had drowned 20 people in a row. It wasn't very Cheery. She also made one of the rides crash, killing eight more souls. It was truly terrible.
Sarah, I not only know this, I have done it. I've done even worse than this, actually.
I played this game when I was snowed in to my friend's house, and he said, "You should play this. You would like it. You like organizing things."
And I do like organizing things. But I hate rides. So when I built my theme park, I ignored the rides and concentrated on food stands and costumed characters. I had no good roller coasters, but I won a never-before-seen award for best food! And then I hired all these people dressed like tigers to entertain people in the lines for my terrible rides, and I went to move one of them, which you do by picking them up with what looks like a little claw. But I wasn't very good with the controls, and I accidentally dropped my costumed tiger in one of my ornamental lakes (I also invested in landscaping) and it struggled and DROWNED. Which totally bummed out the little patrons in the game. So I built a new food court.
QUESTION NINE, 11:57 PM
Renata said... Maureen, I'm reading your blog and laughing out loud very loudly in my grandfather's living room and everyone keeps looking at me weird and asking me what the heck is so funny. Then I read it out loud and they just don't get it . . . how can I explain to them the amazing humor that is Maureen Johnson?
Try reading it in a Swedish accent. Imagine Abba is reading it. Or use this.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!
A signed Let it Snow to DASHA (send me your address, Dasha) . . .
If you have been around here for a while, you will know that I am more than a little obsessed with the holiday season. I love Cheer. I cannot get enough. Soon, I’ll be opening the MJ Holiday Workshop, as I do every year, to distribute CHEERFUL things, like books and cards.
And in the past, I have often liked to use this special time of year to give out advice. I thought I’d do a little of that today.
It seems now that when I am working a lot, I check in with Facebook once or twice a day, as it is an excellent way of seeing what and how everyone is doing. The other day, I asked people if they had any questions that needed answering. I got many excellent questions. Here are a few of them.
Julia asks: is there a bad reason to leave and never come back?
Well . . . and I’m not saying I have any direct experience with this . . . but say you burned the place down by accident because you were decorating a makeshift disco with hundreds of tea lights and you didn’t know your spray glitter was an accelerant and the whole place went up like Edward Cullen riding a rocket on a sunny day. That’s a really good reason not to come back.
Faith asks: do you accept apprentices of awesome?
Yes.
Tim asks: How should one handle bitchy customers at work?
I have held many jobs in which I dealt with the public. I remember well dealing with bitchy, longwinded, annoying, unfriendly people who have come to take your time and ruin your life. This kind of customer is impossible to dismiss. They don’t care about you, or the other people, or common decency. They’ll scream, they’ll throw money in your face, knock things off shelves. They’ll make twenty people wait in line behind them while they rant and rave and announce that they don’t care. You can never be rude back, sadly, as that just adds fuel to the fire (and see the above questions for where that will get you).
This kind of anti-Cheer behavior must be stopped. I used to employ many methods for doing this. Here is one of my favorites. It never failed me.
Say you work at Target, at the customer service counter. For the last twenty minutes, you have watched a horrible woman screaming about the fact that the store has run out of the Hannah Montana Rockstar Powerdrill and Bake Sets that were advertised in the circular. She has been taking out her wrath on an innocent checkout girl. The checkout girl, reduced to tears, pointed at your counter in defeat. Now it is your turn for punishment. But no. You will not go down quietly. You need to be one step ahead of her. Before she even gets to your desk, run around so that you are standing in front of her on the same side of the counter. Bow low at the waist and pretend to take off a hat.
From this point on, speak entirely in Renaissance Fair speak. Wring your hands together and say something like, “Please, good madam, speak to me that I may absorb the gist of your need!”
This should set her a little off-balance, but she’ll keep rambling on. Whatever she says, just look shocked and exclaim “Most injurious, sweet lady! Most assuredly injurious!” Offer her a chair. If there is no chair, offer your own back as a bench. Say, “Fie on this! Fie, fie! Come. Together we shall investigate this injustice and rectify all that seeks rectification.”
Lead her away. Make sure to keep stopping and bowing and that you always walk a few steps behind. Go to the toy section, but to the wrong aisle. Proceed to take every single toy off the shelf and ask, “Doth this be the object of merriment?” Whenever she looks like she is tiring of you, jump up and down and exclaim, “Curseth my pumpkin head! I have possessed the knowledge all this while! I will bring the bauble henceforth!” Disappear. Come back with a toaster oven.
After an hour or so, when you have exhausted all the objects in the aisle, scream at the top of your lungs and say, “Fair lady! Fair lady! Do you hear the sound of carriage wheels on the road and the steps of a hundred mighty horses? I THINK THE QUEEN IS COMING!” Run out of the store and never come back.
Tobias asks: Maureen, where does one meet cute nerdy gay guys who like to watch Dr. Who and House?
Tobias, everything you need to know—all of the essential skills of attracting the ladies or the mens—can be found in the works of 1990s manboy band, Color Me Badd. Color Me Badd was so bad that they had an extra “d” on their name. What did the “d” stand for? No one knew. That was just one more thing that made Color Me Badd so very badd. These guys were so goodd with the opposite sex that they could have all the consonants they wanted.
Color Me Badd
The theme of every single Color Me Badd song, as far as I can tell, is how much they want to get wit chu. Their hit song “I Want to Sex You Up” is more or less the only textbook you will ever need to learn the Art of Love. They are very on-message. What do they want to do? They want to sex you up. The song never deviates from the theme of sexing you up. We are never left scratching our heads and wondering what is going on. Sexing up is going on.
Lines like “we can do it until we both wake up” and “we can make love until we both drown” made many people think Color Me Badd was a little confused about what “sexing up” was. But that’s the baddness of Color Me Badd—no one knows what they’re talking about, really! You just know that it a). is smooooove and b.) involves really big pants.
I think it could only help you to learn every move and line of this video, get the biggest pants you can find, and head to the nearest con. Slide on up to the debate about who the eleventh Doctor will be, and at the first pause bust into your move. But you will, of course, have changed the lyrics of the song to reflect the occasion, so you will sing something like:
Want to get you in my Tardis Just like that Rose Tyler Show you my big blue police box And my sonic screwdriver
By the time you are done, EVERYONE will be attracted to you. It is merely up to you to select the appropriate nerd.
Kayla asks: I'm trying to compose a short, fun little song for kids....and I'm not for sure what it should be about. Giraffes who love giraffes? penguins? llamas? I just don't know. What do you think? :)
Back when I was an editor, I had an assistant named Cartography Jones (not his real name, but a name I bestowed on him). I spent the majority of my time at work trying to make Carto’s life better, and one of the ways I did this was by hiding pictures of lemurs all over his desk. Dozens and dozens of pictures of lemurs. He would come in in the morning, tired and bleary-eyed, and slowly notice the round, gleaming eyes of a lemur peering from just over his monitor, or just under his mouse, or on the fourth page of a report, or out of an “urgent e-mail of instructions” I had sent him. Sometimes the lemurs were under his mug. Sometimes they were in a book, waiting to be discovered weeks later. Sometimes the lemurs were in his lunch, carefully placed just under the wrapper of his sandwich when he stepped away from his desk. Sometimes he would even go home and find lemurs in his bag, his hat, his laptop. I buried pictures of lemurs deep in actual work files, attached them to spreadsheets, planted them in the conference room . . ..
There are many pictures of lemurs on the internet!
A LEMUR
Because I was his boss, Carto knew that the many, many pictures of lemurs that haunted his every waking moment were important, and good for his personal and professional development. Sure, they made him shaky and screamy and sometimes he would beg for NO MORE LEMURS, but I would just smile and nod and send him more important e-mails, only some of which were full of the moony, crazed faces of lemurs. What I was trying to show him is that sometimes, life gives you lemurs. Now, I know that it sort of follows to say something like, “When life gives you lemurs, you should make lemurade.” But there is no such thing as lemurade, and if there was, it would be disgusting.
The main point is that it is awesome to be someone’s boss because you can send them 2000 pictures of lemurs and there is nothing they can do about it. So stay in school and become a boss!
(You are probably thinking that this means that I want your song to be about lemurs but I would actually like it to be about penguins.)
Ariel asks: How might one go about getting free Starbucks on a daily basis?
I have a plan that will not only get you free Starbucks every day, it will also SPREAD CHEER! Pick a local Starbucks, the busiest one you can find. If it has disaffected, emo staffers, so much the better. Purchase one (1) shiny holiday sweater. If it lights up or has tinkling bells, again, so much the better. Also get one bag of discounted holiday chocolate from the drugstore. Let this get a little melty and misshapen, and then put it in the refrigerator to harden it in its deformed state. Also, if you can, get your hands on a slide whistle.
Now you are ready for action.
Position yourself in the middle of the Starbucks with a large smile on your face. Wish everyone who comes in a happy holiday. Then, when people are least expecting it, break into Jingle Bells. Don’t go for quality—go for Cheer. Use that slide whistle as much as you can. Emulate this sound:
Leave the store abruptly. Come back again 15 minutes later. Stand around for a few minutes, and then sing again. Make it look like you are going for the door, but then pause and come back in. You must build a sense of anxiety in the staff, who are now watching your every move. Make sure you are always smiling. Pass out a round of deformed candy to customers and staff. Do this all day.
While you stand there, try to figure out who runs the place. Avoid the manager. The manager will be looking for the most legitimate way of throwing you out. What you want is the Assistant Manager, the person who has probably been there the longest and hates you the most. Go up to this person and say, as quietly as possible, “One grande eggnog latte and I am gone. Leave it outside in five minutes or I come back with the accordion.”
Coffee is cheap, and one eggnog latte is definitely worth the price of peace. So while the manager is looking through the corporate manual, the Assistant Manager will be brewing you one hot, delicious eggnog latte. Leave at once with it.
Come back the next day. This time, don’t go in. Make periodic passes by the window, holding up your slide whistle happily. Go away. Return, and sit quietly in the corner for an hour or so. Really build things up for your performance. When the Assistant Manager looks over (these are the people who work every day), make a drinking motion with an invisible cup and hold up one finger. You mean, “One eggnog latte.” It would be really effective at this point if you could pull out some stuffed reindeer antlers or some bells.
You may or may not need to sing at this point. Every staff has a different level of tolerance. But within a few days, you should have them to the point where they will simply hand over the eggnog latte the moment you appear. You may have to travel from store to store, but since most Starbucks seem to be located about ten feet away from each other, you can assume word has spread.
But what about after the holidays? you ask. This works even better in July!
Emily asks: what's the best way to tie your shoes?
It is best to hire someone for this task. It is quite dangerous.
Al asks: What happens to socks in the drier?
I answer this and several other pressing questions in Scarlett Fever.
Let’s kick off some CHEER right now. A signed Let it Snow to a random commenter! Please tell me what is going on with you, and if you have any CHEER-related problems that need solving!
I have been looking through your comments today, and I have noticed something distressing. LOOK!
distraught beth said... *Sigh* Yet another loss. I like all the prizes and contest you have, MJ but it gets quite self-deprecating when you keep losing because you're just not quite clever and/or insane enough.
And this:
jk said... oh, see i thought that we were supposed ot be finding like the real meaning of it. but i guess this makes more sense cause i goes with teh book and everything. but ahh this is so sad I called him, i talked to teh guy with the tape dispencer, seriously. i google the post office i called it i talked ot the guy. he told me what it meant!
I was understandably dismayed. This had DECREASED YOUR CHEER! Drastic measures were needed! I dropped what I was doing and went right to cheer control and set everything on MAXIMUM CHEER. I made calls, I poked elves.
And I am pleased to tell you two things!
One, the Holiday Signing Workshop Elves, in response to the poking, produced one more box of Suite Scarlett cards. I will keep sending these until the supply dries up! There aren’t many, but there are some! And they can be yours! Act now! Supplies are limited!
Two . . . and then even better news . . .
I managed to obtain two more advance copies Suite Scarlett. This was a bit tricky, as they are rare creatures. The giveaway starts RIGHT NOW, because the time for giving is upon us! And this contest requires NO CLEVERNESS.
This is how you enter to win COPY NUMBER TWO of Suite Scarlett:
1. Leave a comment. That’s it. I don’t care what it is about! It can be about Cheer, or it can be about why you want to read Suite Scarlett, or it can be about how to get rid of J.K. Rowling. Whatever. No research, no cleverness, no wit required! It doesn’t matter where you live—I ship EVERYWHERE!
2. Okay, you do have to put a name on the comment somewhere, even in the comment itself. I can’t enter “anonymous” into the contest. But that’s not that hard.
3. If you want, send your friends or family along to comment, and if they win, take the book from them! Feel free to stack the odds in your favor!
4. If you want to leave a comment but aren’t interested in being entered to win the book, just say so!
I will pick the winner completely at random the day after Christmas, December 26th, around 3pm.
The next Scarlett could be yours!
Speaking of . . .
anonymous said... im sorry MJ, but i am unmistakably out of Christmas cheer. quesiton: i am having a brain fart and cant remember if you told us when Suite Scarlett is coming out. so, uh, when is it coming out in 2008? 2009 even?
The answer to the question is: MAY 2008. Just a little over four months from now. Basically, when the first little flowers pop their fool heads out of the ground, Scarlett will appear.
From the comments I’ve seen, many of you are suffering deficiencies of CHEER for many reasons. Again, I can’t just sit by and let this happen. So I thought that—since I am now ensconced in the Swiss Family Johnson treehouse, and the SFJT is pretty much the most Cheer-encrusted place I know—I would take you on a little photo tour. The Cheer will seep out of the computer and infect you!
It would be impossible for me to show you all of the holiday decorations around Chez Johnson, because there are simply too many. Quite literally, there is a decoration in every room. This is like one of those White House tours, where you only get to see a tiny, tiny portion of the full workings.
To begin, this is my lawyer, C. Catso Fangola, wearing his Santa hat. Even though he is a member of the Bar Association, C. Catso always takes time out for Cheer.
C. Catso, seen here right after having some delicious wet food.
I have talked little in the past about my mother’s extensive Dickens Village. In fact, I got at least one request for photos of the Village. Ask, and ye shall receive!
I must tell you that the Dickens Christmas Village* is sadly incomplete. There was a furniture change in the room where it is normally set up, so its custom-made table can no longer be used. It is a third of its normal size. It used to be two streets deep with a cathedral and a lake. Most of the houses are packed away in the attic right now, crying quiet little ceramic house tears. If that doesn’t break your heart, then you are made of stone.
Here is an overall shot of the tiny Village:
The Village has two outposts (again, it used to have more). Here is the one that hangs on the wall in a wreath that my mother made for this very purpose. (My mother is really good at making wreaths, and we have a LOT of them. It was for this wreath that we pepper-sprayed ourselves in the infamous squirrel incident.)
The Little Village on the Wall.
The other really important things to note about this photo are the two framed pictures to the left and right of the wreath. Those are needlepoints my mother has made of some of her favorite Dickens Village houses. The small grey lump on the sofa is C. Casto, reading a legal brief as he reclines against a snowman pillow. And that throw on the sofa is an official Dickens Village throw listing the names of popular houses and the years that they were made.
These are what I call the Kreepy Karolers. I dislike the Kreepy Karolers, but my mother insists they bring Cheer. She also says they are highly collectible, which to my mind means that people will collect anything.
This is just one group of Kreepy Karolers. There are others.
Now, let’s move on to the tree, which is really sort of a Cheer antenna. I used my parents’ camera to take some of these next photos, and accidentally downloaded 848 pictures from their trip to Egypt. So since I have them, here is a photo of my mother on a camel. It's kind of like one of those live Nativity scenes!
Watch out. They spit.
In case you didn’t think I was telling the truth before . . . here are the boxes of tinsel my mother had ready and waiting on my arrival. There are TWELVE of them. That is for ONE TREE.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my mother gave to me, twelve boxes of tinsel, eleven Kreepy Karolers, ten Village houses, nine rabid squirrels . . .
Not enough Cheer yet? Let’s keep going! Let’s go to the front room. Here are some of our nutcrackers.
We have others . . . obviously. I mean, this is hardly enough.
I used to get so excited when the nutcrackers came out. I used to use them to make my own version of this board game called “I Vant to Bite Your Finger.” A more CHEERFUL version, where there was no board, and occasionally, I would bite you with a nutcracker. And by you, I mean me, because I am an only child, and these are the kinds of things only children do. We make friends with boxes and old bits of string, we make games with nutcrackers, and we like it!
Speaking of being an only child . . . look! Christmas stockings! Can you guess which one is mine? Can you?
If you look VERY CAREFULLY you may be able to figure out which one belongs to me!
But Cheer is not limited to the inside of the house. Oh no! Nor is it even limited to OUR house!
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this or not, but our next door neighbor—who has lived next to us as long as there has been a me—paved over a lot of his yard about ten years ago and installed 150 cement angels and a ten foot high cross. He constantly rearranges these things. It looks like he has taken down the ten foot high cross (which he used to shine a blue spotlight on—it would cast a huge, cross-shaped shadow that stretched all the way out to the creek that runs behind our houses). There is a smaller one now.
Here is a little peek at what we can see from the window:
There used to be an angel that hung from a bungee cord out of a tree. That was my favorite. But the tree has been taken down to make way for more angels. If it had been there, I could have sung:
Angels we have heard on high Bungee jumping out of trees And the cross lights up the sky I am al-ler-gic to bees
Fa la la la la la La la la la la La la la la
STRICTLY FOR THE NERDFIGHTERS:
If you have come here via Brotherhood2.0 and are waiting for today’s scavenger hunt clue . . . here it is! I have just returned from hiding it. American History Nerdfighters . . . this one is for you.
After I hid the clue, I turned and took this picture—if you can get to where I was standing, you will get today’s clue!
* This Village plays a huge role in my story in “Let in Snow,” the three-story collection I am writing with John Green and Lauren Myracle. If you read it, feel free to come back and look at these pictures to get a visual!
I am back at my desk, now that my jury service is over. Being on a murder trial is certainly interesting, and sometimes excruciating. It took us a few days of painful deliberation to come to a verdict. I was the jury foreman, and I had to stand up in the court and declare someone guilty of murder. Now that it is over, I can say I feel pretty good about it. I think we did the right thing, even though it wasn’t easy.
There were reporters there in our jury room when it was all over. So, I am telling you something, Law and Order . . . if you ever rip this one from the headlines, you had better let me be in the episode . . . preferably playing MYSELF. I will be watching.
In my absence, so many questions have come in! Let’s not waste another moment!
danica said... A-TEAM QUESTION! Is there an episode of the A-Team where B.A. DOESN'T have to be knocked out to fly in a plane/helicopter/whatever?
Yes. In “The Beast from the Belly of a Boeing” (real episode title, and no, I didn’t even have to look it up—I just knew it from memory), BA and Murdock pose as airplane mechanics to put something on a plane before it takes off. Unfortunately, the plane starts moving with them on board. BA, after a few moments of panic, passes out. But technically, he is not drugged—nor does he even look that scared later on as he fights hijackers at 42,000 feet. I suspect he was “on the jazz” at the time.
As much as I loved the A-Team, I will acknowledge that they were a bit cheap in some of their production values. You will notice in the very last scene of this episode, when the nosecone of the plane crashes through the window of the airport . . . a woman throws a baby in the air? That’s because it is taken directly from the movie AIRPLANE!
lindsay n said... What is your favorite ornament- and are you a pro-tinsel (as in "in favor of" vs "professional") Christmas tree decorator?
Tinsel is a very serious subject at the Johnson homestead in Philadelphia. My mother, for reasons we have never completely understood, is obsessed with the stuff. You have never seen anyone use as much tinsel as my mom. In fact, the tradition now is that I decorate the tree (using the careful and time-honored tradition of putting on the balls in a very specific order). Then I put on FOUR BOXES of tinsel, thinking that will be enough. And then she comes in with a cup of nog and says, “The tree looks nice, but don’t you think it looks a little bare?” And then she whips a bag containing SIX MORE BOXES of tinsel and puts them all on the tree.
It’s hard to believe that a tree can withstand the tinseling we give it. I’m surprised we haven’t snapped a few. As she’s encrusting the tree, my mom always reminisces about some old-timey tinsel that was really heavy and hung straighter than modern tinsel. She implies it was made of lead or something, which really doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you want to put on a tree—especially considering that my lawyer, C. Catso Fangola, eats as much tinsel as he can get his little kitty jaws on.
In the end, we have a blinding silver spike that sort of resembles the nose-cone of a rocket, which probably explains all the strange visitors we get on Christmas Eve seeking transport to their home planets—and also why I thought Santa was from space.
SANTA!
emily said... do you think red sequined converse (google them, i'm sorry i can't figure out how to link) are appropriately cheery? because i just got them, and i think they are, but i want ask you, master of all cheer. (keep in mind that they sparkle when light shines on them!)
shakes
shakes very hard
BUY THESE AT ONCE. THE IMAGE OF THEM DANCES IN MY MIND AND I CANNOT SLEEP. GET THEM IN EVERY COLOR, ESPECIALLY THE SILVER.
THE VERY DEFINITION OF CHEER
rebekah ruth said... When can we expect to see these cards?
The Holiday Signing Workshop Elves have just produced the first box of cards, so I will start signing them and sending them out early next week! I will continue to sign and send right up until the 20th of December (or until the cards run out). And to those of you who asked . . . NO! It is not too late to request cards! This is the perfect time!
ashley said... my mother and I are currently in a 'disagreement' (it's not a fight, there was no yelling) about some particularly obnoxious ornaments. They are large, strangely shaped, and metallic purple. I think they are AMAZING, but she tells me that purple is not a holiday color. I disagree. So, master of all cheer, my mother has agreed to let you settle the debate, because she also loves your books. Is purple a holiday color? Are these ornaments allowed to don our tree full of cheer?!
Thank you for including me in your cheerful debate! First, let me just say that it is a good thing you didn’t ask Daphne Unfeasible this question. Daphne is not rational on the subject of purple. Daphne is wearing purple shoes in her wedding to Rexroth Implausible, where we will be eating purple cupcakes and carrying purple flowers. If you asked Daphne, the entire tree should be purple, like something out of the Lorax.
As it happens, the MOST IMPORTANT ORNAMENTS at the Johnson Family homestead are large and purple. They are from the 1940s, and we keep them in a special box. But that is really not enough information to help you settle this most Cheerful of discussions. So let me give you some historical background.
Purple is the color of kings, and my personal favorite when it comes to kings is “Mad” King Ludwig II of Bavaria—largely because he is the man responsible for the construction of Neuschwanstein Castle, which is arguably the coolest castle in the world (and the basis of the Disneyland Magic Kingdom castle). The German room of my high school had a large wall-mural of Neuschwanstein, so in my memory of high school, I visited this castle EVERY DAY.
As it happens, I kept all my foreign language textbooks from high school. (I didn’t steal them. We had to buy them.) My textbooks are very, very hilarious because, for whatever reason, we used a German edition created in 1974, and a French edition from 1984. Even taking into account that I went to high school several years ago, the books were still outrageously outdated, and yet we were made to memorize everything in them as facts. For example, I took a test with questions drawn from the following passage on French culture:
Young women enjoy wearing bib overalls (salopettes). Every girl carries a purse (sac), which is usually tiny with a long shoulder strap crossing the body. Currently, some girls wear ankle socks with high-heeled shoes.
I remember some brave soul in my class trying to explain to sister that this was not exactly accurate, and sister saying, “It is IN THE BOOK.” Some people have trouble understanding the fact that you kind of need to think about cultural and historical context before you go being all literal and following every word of something . . . because if you don’t, you are liable to make some egregious mistakes.*
Anyway, I want to show you the difference between the very first lesson of French I and the very first lesson of German I.
FRENCH I, first page text of Perspectives Françaises:
CHRISTINE: Bonjour, Marie! MARIE: Bonjour, Christine! Comment vas-tu? CHRISTINE: Je vais bien, merci. Et toi? MARIE: Comme-ci, comme ça. CHRISTINE: Que fais-tu maintenant? MARIE: J’étudie les math. Je passé l’examen dans dix minutes. CHRISTINE: Bonne chance! Ou vas-tu après l’examen? MARIE: Je vais a la patisserie. J’ai faim! CHRISTINE: Moi, aussi. Allons a la patisserie ensemble! MARIE: D’accord. A bientot, Christine. CHRISTINE: Au revoir, Marie.**
Translation:
CHRISTINE: Hello, Marie! MARIE: Hello, Christine! How are you? CHRISTINE: I’m fine, thanks. And you. MARIE: So-so. CHRISTINE: What are you doing? MARIE: I’m studying math. I take the test in ten minutes. CHRISTINE: Good luck! What are you doing after the test? MARIE: I’m going to the pastry shop. I’m hungry! CHRISTINE: Me, too. Let’s go to the pastry shop together! MARIE: Okay. See you soon, Christine. CHRISTINE: Good-bye, Marie.
Now, I think you will agree with me when I say that that is PRETTY BORING. The only part of that that I was even remotely interested in was this pastry shop they all went running to after math tests. What’s THAT about? The best I ever got after a math test was a prayer card and a lecture about my slouching socks.
The trouble was, I was used to better. Our German textbook was just so very excellent, Perspectives Françaises never had a chance. First of all, it was loaded with pictures from 1974, so everyone looked like Abba!
Everyone in my book looked like this. Now those are some bib overalls!
Aside from the obviously superior photos, my German book totally rocked when it came to conversations and vocabulary. No “Good morning, I am going dans le pastry shop” for us! No way! Here is the first piece of German text I ever had to read:
Du kennst mich nicht Ich heiße Gisela und wohne in Deutschland Ich finde Deutschland schon Ich habe eine nette Familie, aber oft fuhle ich mich ganz allein Und du?
Gehst du auch ab und zu lieber allein durch die Straßen? Fuhlst du dich manchmal verlassen, auch wenn viele Leute da sind? Traumst du manchmal? Schaust du in den Spiegel und fragst: ‘Wer bin ich und was wird aus mir?’
Aber es ist nicht immer so! Erika kommt oft zu mir. Wir gehen dann in mein Zimmer und sprechen lange und lachen laut miteinander. Oder wir weinen zusammen—und finden die Welt trauig und schon, fremd und freundlich. Und du?
Translation:
You don’t know me. My name is Gisela, and I live in Germany. I find Germany beautiful. I have a nice family, but often I feel quite alone. And you?
Do you too prefer to walk alone through the streets now and then? Do you feel sometimes forsaken, even when many people are there? Do you dream sometimes? Do you look in the mirror and ask, “Who am I, and what will become of me?”
But it’s not always this way. Erika often comes over, then we go to my room and talk a long time and laugh loudly with one another, Or we cry together—and find the world sad and beautiful, foreign and friendly. And you?
No vapid snacking here! Marie and Christine aren’t in the same universe as Gisela. I liked her insane trawling through the streets, mirror-talking, and group sobbing. Bonus: one of the first ten German words I ever learned was FORSAKEN.
This is why I became president of the German club. German is awesome.
Anyway, Ashley, I hope this clears everything up for you!
I hope those purple balls hang proudly from the branches of your tree! And if you want, you can be like my mom and just cover them up with tinsel! Everyone wins!
Thanks to Libba Bray (who gave out the link), I can offer you the chance to see my new publicity photo in the form of either Elf me or Scrooge me. You're welcome!
NOTE:
I understand that Blogger has been giving some of you trouble leaving comments. I am sorry for this! You can also send your questions via e-mail if that is easier! Your questions are the lifeblood of my very existence!
* It is possible that I am talking about more than just language textbooks, but I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions!
** Note to French and German readers: I love both of your languages, so please do not be offended by the lack of some accents and umlauts. I tried to make them appear, but the Gods of Word and Blogger colluded against me. If you have accents and umlauts I can borrow, I would be most appreciative.
