Saturday, 24 December 2011

Grinch This

There will be no haggery during Christmas. I love Christmas! I love the feeling of closeness and happiness that comes with this holiday.  Family togetherness is one of the best things in this world. (After we are all together, I usually have a couple of rants, but that comes after)

Christmas is a time of beauty, from the inside out.  There is something about this holiday that is truly magical.  In one way or another, we all see the underlined spiritual side of this holiday. That may be religious beliefs, peace within yourself, or more willingness to understand and tolerance for others that we don't have all year round. 

This is a time to forget that you may have a control freak mother who thinks your turkey will never taste as good as hers and when are you finally going to settle down and stop living in sin?  Let your alcoholic father have those 5 extra drinks of holiday cheer.  Who cares if Uncle George takes his teeth out at the table and leaves them on the side of his plate?   Your hellion nephew who just shaved your cat is adorable today.  And when your sister in law makes an underhanded comment about the cleanliness of your house, just give her a hug and a smile.  She'll still be a bag tomorrow.

I would like to wish all of you a wonderful holiday, filled with laughter, peace, smiles, warmth and family. Merry Christmas!

PS. On Boxing day, I will likely be back to bitch about all the wrapping paper I had to clean up and the 64 loads of dishes I had to do.

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Christmas with a Crank

Before I rant, I realize that those of you that subscribe only get notifications 24 hours after I blog. I don't know how to fix that. You will just have to check regularly I guess. And comment for crying out loud. I see I have 236 readers - 4 from Russia! Comment or I'll cut you.

If any of you go to a shopping mall, I guess it is only fair of me to tell you that I hate you. Seriously, it seems that everyone's manners and knowledge of how to walk in a mall is lost on them the second that they step foot in the building.  Is it the bright lights and shiny things?  Get the fucking fuck out of my way. Stop shuffling and dillydallying.  Move to the side. Pick up your feet!  I came dangerously close to punching someone in the back of the head today.  Instead, I just purposely stepped on the back of their shoes.  It felt good.
I won't single out the elderly and shoppers that are over the age of 100. They need to shop too, and have paid their dues. They had to tolerate these assholes when they were young shoppers back in 1897.

And what is up with those that are walking in the opposite direction as you, heading right toward you?  I am always the one to move to the side.  Enough of that shit.  I refuse to move anymore and am willing to play a game of head-on-collision chicken with you, bitch.

Then you have the assholes that think it's cute to let their 1 year old learn how to walk on his own in the middle of the mall.  Guess what? Your kid annoys me now and is no longer cute.  And you, jackass parents, do you not realize you are just baiting kidnappers and pedophiles?

I would be willing to fund mall cops that direct people.  Just like the ones that wave you through when stop lights are broken.  Clearly this needs to happen as we are just barely evolved zoo animals. It's either that or an IQ test followed by an agility obstacle course in order to enter a shopping mall. So we will have mall traffic cops and I will seek anger management counselling in return. Done and done!

Saturday, 17 December 2011

Divine Punishment

I need a Christmas miracle, people.

We are hosting an Ugly Christmas Sweater party tonight. There is supposed to be about 25 people coming over in 4 hours.  I am still in my pajamas. I want to die.

I had a work related party last night.  As usual, I was the drunken fool that nobody wants to be.  It's kind of my thing. My claim to fame. I am that girl.  Just once I would like to experience going out, having a few casual beverages and go home with my boyfriend who will actually say he still loves me after a night out with me.
Le sigh. That will most likely never happen.

Even the Wine Hag has her limits. I have just been introduced to mine. I am not as hardcore as I used to be. I am the equivalent of a human stump today. I cannot function. I want to cry. I want to stop shaking. And I want the little bit of puke on my bathroom floor (courtesy of moi) to magically disappear.

In 4 hours I must:
-Clean up and get rid of clutter that happens to be fucking everywhere. God damn Christmas and the wrapping paper paraphernalia that comes with it.
- Move a mattress from the lowest level of our house to the top level. Fuck.
-Brush my teeth. This needs to happen.
-Put clean sheets on our 2 guest beds.  I now hate my friends.
-Take a shower. Boo.
-I still have to make my cursed Ugly Christmas sweater. I'm toying with the idea of Christmas pajamas. That would be nice.
-Go and pick up my truck that is still at the place where it all began.
-Go and buy food and snacks for tonight.  My boyfriend does not agree that crackers and a jar of peanut butter set out on a nice Christmas table cloth will suffice.  He's never having sex again.

In my desperation to feel human again, I have been googling hangover cures. actually suggested eating mineral rich foods like pickles or canned fish.  Canned fish??!  Are they for real?  I can tell you that if I were to come into contact with canned fish right now, it would be barfomania. Ugh, the thought of it is making gag and sweat at the same time. Sick.

I'm now going to go find a McDonald's cheeseburger and say my prayers. Would it be bad if I went to bed at  my own party at 8:30? Wish me luck.

Sunday, 11 December 2011

What Doesn't Kill you Makes you Stronger

This holiday season just might kill me.  My social calendar (aka scheduled pummeling of my liver) is jam packed this year.  I'm not complaining at all. I love holiday parties and food and libations (please take note of my big and fancy word usage) and the activities that occur at said parties. If there is a board game to be had, I will be there front and center, bossing everyone around.  I have also been known to physically attack complete strangers at parties during board games.  But only if the stranger is cheating.  And I only dove over a table and tackled this stranger to the ground.  Once. There was no blood!
Another of my finer moments as a guest at a party was to not only parade around in the hostess' Snuggie, but then climb into bed with her at 2:30am when she was trying to sleep and suggest that we watch the Royal Wedding.  Both of these occurrences happened at the same house and as I type this, I honestly cannot believe these people still talk to me.

In addition, it's always a fun challenge when you wake up after a Christmas party and try to figure out who in the hell your  5 newest Facebook friends are.

This coming week is a big and busy one. It is my last week of work before I go on holidays.  I'm sure most of you that have jobs can relate to just how hard it is to maintain being drunk everyday for the month of December and stay on top of everything at work?  For those of us that can pull it off successfully, I believe we should be given an award or at least an honorable mention in a History text book.  I'm exhausted and it is only December 11th.  I took it easy tonight and only had 2 glasses of wine. Anyway, besides a crazy work week and a few evening work events, I have 3 parties to attend before Sunday, one of them being an ugly Christmas sweater party.

I am determined to somehow fit into this week making my very own ugly Christmas sweater.  Remember when I said I spent $107 at Dollarama? Well my friends, a good $35 of that was collecting the materials to make this sucker.
In my mind, this garment is magnificent. I have a plain old red sweater that I am basically going to sew on a bunch of random shit.  There is going to be 2 fake sparrows sitting on my shoulders, ok.  There will be bells, drums, ribbons, tiny presents, stuffed animals, bows; hell, there may even be leftovers from this fridge on this thing.  You know those light up reindeer people put on their front lawn? Yeah, I'm trying to figure out a way to attach one to the back of this sweater. I figure I can somehow rig up a backpack style harness.

 This sweater is going to be the Mother of all ugly Christmas sweaters.  I have no idea when I am going to have the time to perfect my masterpiece, but rest assured, I will most likely be drunk when I do it, which is when I do my best work, really.
Wish me luck, and if I can figure it out, I'll post a picture of the sweater.  Stay tuned on my adventures in Christmas partying this week.

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Rated "R" for Ridiculous

After I spent $107 at Dollarama (that's a whole other blog post), I watched The Bodyguard tonight. I will always like that movie. My two favorite parts are when they are about to get it on and Kevin Costner throws Whitney Houston's silk scarf in the air and it effortlessly is sliced by his samurai sword (no really, there is a samurai sword. I'm not being a pervert and referring to his junk as a sword) and the very end when she's about to leave on the plane and yells "wait!",  right before Whit busts out the best part of "I Will Always Love You".

 I got thinking about Kevin Costner. He had some solid movies: The Bodyguard, Dances with Wolves, Robin Hood and that baseball cornfield one or whatever. So this got me thinking about movies today.  What in the hell has happened to our society's definition of entertainment?  7 out of 10 movies released now are about vampires, paranormal activity and weird, creepy possessed children.  What happened to the good old movies with substance and plots that were somewhat believable and even possible?

Is it too much to ask for a terrifying slasher flick? The reason Friday the 13th and Scream films were so scary is because it is highly plausible that someone could come into your home and murder you.  I don't lay awake at night worrying that there will be a Vampire vs Werewolf throw down in the front yard or that there is small sleep deprived child in my closet seeing dead people.  Ridiculous!
Remember the movie called "The Ring"?  What. The. Fuck.Was. That.  A video tape of a wishing well, with a weird dark haired kid that climbs out. Oh, and you die if you watch the tape.  Oscar worthy!

For the record, I actually hate horror movies. I would not sit and watch someone be murdered in real life, so why would I pay $10 to watch murder for entertainment purposes?  But for arguments sake, and to save me from this imaginary fairyland bullshit, I'll gladly watch Freddy or Jason make a comeback.

Don't get me wrong.  I can get down with some fake shit.  Independance Day and Jurassic Park - love!
I'm just ready for a selection of Shawshank Redemption/Donnie Brasco/Dazed & Confused caliber movies to come out, damn it.  I am forever grateful for Liam Neeson and his kickass, action packed and twisty ending films that he still releases every couple of years.  Fuck this little Harry Potter bastard! (Whoever he is. I have never read a Harry Potter book or seen a movie. And I never ever will)

Until I get my wish, I will remain at home, heckling at the previews of the newest movie about a Ghost and a Warlock having a baby, and their hard decision of whether to have it baptized by a unicorn or a leprechaun, all while under siege of  Santa's reindeer, being ridden by the cast of Twilight.

Monday, 5 December 2011

Cheese with my Wine

I don't know what it is about this year, but I cannot get enough of leopard prints. I love them! This is a new development because I usually cackled at any sort of animal print on any person that I could see. Oh, except for the RAD black and white zebra print tank top I had in university for bar hopping. It looked wicked with my cherry red low-rise pants.

Tonight I bought myself a supremely cheesy pair of satin leopard print pajamas. ($22 at Walmart!)
 I. Am. Awesome. Seriously, I feel all classy and rich and lady like in these things. Like Elizabeth Taylor. I feel like I should be draping myself across the furniture and reading Jackie Collins novels while wearing every piece of jewelry I own. My sister in law said I need a pair of fuzzy high heeled slippers and I think she just may be onto something there. And bonus! The leopard print camouflages red wine spills beautifully.

Tomorrow I plan on making my boyfriend falling in love with me all over again/seducing him by prancing around in these jammies while blasting Mariah Carey's "Baby all I Want for Christmas is You" and baking something. It's totally going to work.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Haggin' Ain't Easy

Alright, so the morning after the birth of this blog, I had an extremely uneasy feeling about it.  I was no longer in my super-confident-I-am-invincible-and-awesome drunken stupor.  Reality had set in that I not only started a blog and basically told the world that I am an alcoholic that hates people, but I had shared it in public. People actually read it. My (not so) secret was out.
I took the links down that I had plastered all over every social media sites I am a member of (an impressive and whopping 2, if you're curious)  and mulled over my options in regards to either keeping the blog, or deleting it.
Fast forward to me at last night's Christmas party and I decided to share the links with the public again after a healthy dose of super-confident-I-am-invincible-and-awesome-and-everyone-loves-me.
The blog is staying. My love of wine is clearly staying. A perfect union and it must be shared.

I'm going to clarify what I mean when I say I don't like many people. That isn't entirely accurate. I do like people and I am a real people person. What I have no tolerance for is stupidity, idiocy, losery, dumbness, trash, arrogance, assholery, bitchiness, body stench, liars, cheaters, bad hair, bad wardrobe choices, awkward conversationalists, little to no sense of humor and/or  bad driving.
I told you I was judgmental. And I like to make up words.

So if you were asking yourself after my first blog if you were one of the people I actually don't like;  if you possess one of the above qualities, the answer is yes.
If you do not possess any of those cursed attributes, then you are majestic in my eyes and my next blog entry will be dedicated to you, you rare little gems of human gold.
I have the shakes due to last night's merriment and desperately need a shower and a toothbrush. If I don't tend to myself immediately, I will hate myself.

Love and kisses,
The Hag

Friday, 2 December 2011

Feels like the first time

Do you remember when you lost your virginity? For some of you, it may have been a very long time ago. For some, it's still pretty fresh in your memory bank.  And for others, it hasn't happened yet. (Why? And what's wrong with you?)

This first blog entry is very much like losing virginity for me. I'm nervous. I'm drunk. I want who is reading it to like it and want to read it again. And I am hoping very much that I won't regret this in the morning.

I have been told by numerous people to start a blog and let my freak flag fly. I have resisted until this point. Not because I don't like attention, because I love it. I have lots to say all. the. time. I guess it just took this half a bottle of Barefoot Shiraz and three quarters of a bottle of Barefoot Cabernet Sauvignon to give me the courage to share my rantings with the rest of the world. (thank you baby Jesus for spell check)

The thoughts I will share really are rantings. There are very few people I actually like in this world. I am judgemental as hell. I am sarcastic and the smallest incidents send me into a fit of rage and ranting. And I like wine. So, there you have it - Rantings of  a Wine Hag.
So, a word of warning. I am politically incorrect and incredibly inappropriate. Also, I am in a professional position in my career, so if you know me, don't divulge my identity. If I get fired and can't afford internet, then I can't let you all know how bitchtastically mad I am about the whole situation.

Until next time,
Love and kisses,
The Hag