I attended my very first hockey game last night – at the San Jose Shark Tank amid of sea of teal. I have never seen a hockey game before. Mostly, because it is not baseball.
For one of our very first dates, Jon and I got good seats to a baseball game. We sat through it in an almost reverent silence – there was no chatting/get to know you banter. Game was on!
Are you reading A Nervous Tic Motion Yet? You should be. I write a weekly column there – Wineconed Wednesday. You know you want to throw some. And I would really love for you to join in!
Comments Off on Wineconed Wednesday – The Holiday Edition
I know many of you hate receiving these yearly accolades neatly condensed into a single letter – complete with stationary bearing the appropriate winter motif.
Too bad. I wrote one anyway. Continue reading
(Warning: This post contains language not meant for polite society. But it is totally warranted.)
(Note to self: Never again think, “I’m not going to blog tonight. I have nothing to say so I’ll just read.” You’ll end up in a situation forcing you to respond to yourself, “Well, shit. Now I’ve got to write this down.) Continue reading
Today was the big day to meet the big man. The muppets and I went to visit Santa. At the mall. The Saturday before Christmas.
I’m a sucker for tradition, and I’ve been striving to create our own Stream family traditions around the holidays. And who wouldn’t want an annual screaming at Santa photo to pull out when your sons become teenagers. Besides, last year Search puked all over the floor of the Macy’s Believe special section as Santa handed back a screaming muppet. Continue reading
There is little to no hope for a white Christmas in this neck of the woods. So in the balmy chill of 60 degree California weather, we headed out for some autumn adventures in the outdoor air.
There’s just something so enticing about a giant pile of fallen leaves. And also, punching penguins. Continue reading
I was just getting ready for a lunch meeting when my phone buzzed. My first inclination was to ignore it – my preference for most phone calls (email me please folks: tricia@streamoftheconscious.com) – but I saw the number.
I don’t even have the number programmed into my phone so I have those extra few moments of hope that it is not the preschool. Because nothing good ever comes from the preschool calling me in the middle of the day. Nothing.
Dear Santa,
Look, I’m sorry I took your name in vain. (That is you I’m supposed to avoid doing that with, right?) Anyway, this isn’t even a real blog post. This is a Monday. Continue reading
Under the stars, beneath the moon
Will be a Christmas party you won’t forget soon.
A party for all so full of cheer
A room full of people we all hold dear.
So join us for this Christmas celebration
Forget all your sorrows, worries, frustration…
We’ll deck the halls and you deck the children.
Bring your little ones in their Christmas best.
Moms, please wear something red for a group photograph. Continue reading
Rainbow colored icicle lights line the frame of our house. Two brightly LED-lit penguins frolic among the fallen autumn leaves in the front yard. Visitors are welcomed with a large Costco acquired plastic pine wreath affixed beside the front door.
Inside, an 8-foot fir tree stands gated, draped with silver garlands and brilliant white lights. Family ornaments hang from the top quarter of branches. Continue reading
