Has Anyone Ever Had Figgy Pudding?

Has anybody really ever had figgy pudding? If so, please fill us in on the whole figgy pudding experience. We (as in me) are dying to know. I have had chestnuts roasting on an open fire, but no figgy pudding. You know that line in the carol: "Now bring us some figgy pudding..." and "We won't go until we get some..." leads me to believe that people either don't mean what they sing -- or a hellava' lot more carolers would be camped out on one's front porch holding out for figgy pudding. Perhaps figgy pudding is far more prevalent than I thought, but in my fifty-some years of being dragged through this depressing forced march of seasonal giddiness, no on has EVER offered me a slice, bowl, cup or plate of figgy pudding.

That said: Could someone please fill me in on the whole just who is "Good King Wenslas", what is "the Feast of Stephen" and did the good king indeed only come to town on that day?

I want to know. I could just Google, but where would the fun be in that?

Viva La Ugly Christmas Sweater!!!!

Fashionistas, a notoriously cranky bunch (I blame the shoes. You try being nice in five-inch stilettos). Pick-up any fashionista handbook and you will find the same people who can say "jeggings" with a straight face bemoaning the proliferation of holiday sweaters like it's this year's new flu strain. Word-up you fashion facists: We know the Christmas sweater is bad. That is why we love it. I believe Coco Channel (or was it Diana Vreeland?) said it best: "No taste is worse than bad taste".



A new movement is afoot that promises to enshrine the "Ugly Christmas Sweater" right-up there with the other vestiges of the season, like mistletoe and trying to find parking place at the mall. It now seems so obvious, I still can't believe I didn't think of it myself: "The Ugly Christmas Sweater Party".




Instead of denigrating this beloved icon of the holiday season, we are donning our gay apparel and rocking around the Christmas tree. Hell, yeah!!! It's about time.



What makes a truly fabulous Ugly Christmas sweater? First of all it help if you received it from a relative you only pretend to like.



Donning some stupid headgear will kick-up the effect of your Ugly Christmas Sweater ten-fold. Something about an Ugly Christmas sweater just cries out for festive headgear.



Not finished "Decking the Halls" or the yard? Wrap a little instant festivity around a tree.



Of course, jingle bells, lights or anything you have to use a hot glue gun to adhere is even better. Tights and Christmas boxers??? Whoo-hoo and party-on!!!



So instead of pooh-poohing this fabulous "Fashion Don't", slap on a Santa hat or a mistletoe head-band: We're going caroling.

The Tooth Fairy is a Bitch

Let's get this out of the way right from the get-go so I don't have to listen to any one's inane advice about how to improve my oral hygiene. I brush. I floss. I have the high-speed toothbrush and a water pick. I see the dentist more than I see my own husband, but still I have crappy teeth. Up until Tuesday this week, I was on a roll since I hadn't had a dental crisis in two years. Then the whole house of cards came crashing down on me like a rotten molar on Laffy Taffy. Like a responsible adult I went in for my routine six month cleaning. Everything was fine. I left with a clean bill of health. My mouth was a little sore, but sometimes it is after a cleaning. Then, at 3:30 A.M. I awoke to a ragging, throbbing mother-of-all-toothaches. I would like to say I didn't know what it was, but I had been down this road before, sad to say, and I know a blown root-canal when I feel one. That's right all you happy people with decent teeth, that root-canal you had can GO BAD. The dentist assures me this is a rare thing -- 90% of root-canals are fine. Funny that this is the second one I have had explode on me, but I guess I AM JUST LUCKY!!! Most people think a root-canal is the end of the line for oral torture, but I am here to tell you it ISN'T. There is a WHOLE OTHER RELM OF HURT out there and it is called the endodontist.


Here is the short version of my history with endodontists: I had a root canal. The root canal failed. I had endodonic surgery (They drilled through my jaw! I had a bit of bone GO UP MY NOSE.) then THAT root canal failed. I got talked into a implant by an endodontist who should be the poster boy for medical malpractice, and wound-up with a major infection and bits of bone graft COMING UP THROUGH MY GUM. Did I mention that I have had heart surgery and endocarditis is a major health concern for me? Oral infection is like bad, bad, bad. Thousands of dollars later, I have a permanent bridge that spans one side of my mouth, which is what I was trying to avoid in the first place. Endodontists are all about saving your tooth. I swear sometimes they are more attached to my teeth than I am. That, and telling me, what my insurance covers and what it doesn't. Those people just love to quote the 60%, 40% co-pay crap. I KNOW it is going to cost me, I just don't want them to kill me, but I would still like to be able to chew.

So, if you happen to see the tooth fairy along side the road, flag that bitch down and tell her I want my old teeth back. I NEED THOSE BABY TEETH I SO FOOLISHLY SOLD FOR QUARTERS!!!!

P.S. If this makes no sense it is because they changed my pain medication -- as they no longer make Darvocet -- because apparently it causes heart problems. This does case me some concern that this is the drug they had me taking for pain after open-heart surgery for pain. BUT -- I suppose that it another blog for another time.