Holiday Winner!!

When I posted this last week, I told everyone it would be a quick turn around.  So here we are, turning it around.

Turn the beat around . . . love to hear percussion . . .

Try to get that out of your head today!  Yeah, sorry about that.

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Ok, so turning it around (the giveaway, not the beat!), let’s get this party started!

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And without further ado . . . the winner of the last giveaway of 2013 on Misty’s Laws is:

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LILY!!!

Well, Lily, my friend . . . it seems your week just keeps getting better!!  Starting with a minor fender bender, then an engagement, and finally, the most exciting thing to happen to you in your entire life . . . winning these two mugs!!!  Woo-hoo!

So, send me your info at mistyslaws at gmail dot com and I’ll get these in the mail to you as quickly as possible.

And, since this will possibly be my last post of the year, I just want to wish every single one of you a very festive and happy holiday, filled with fun, family and fruity cocktails!!  Feliz Navidad, my peeps.  Happy Everything!!

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Holiday Quickie

Ok, I told y’all that I was going to do another giveaway before the holidays, and with commenting time, picking time and shipping time, in order to get the prize to the winner prior to the big day, I realize that I have to do this thing NOW.

So, that’s what this is.  I ordered a mug for someone for Christmas (if you receive it in the mail, act surprised and like you didn’t already see the same one on the site!) and was mistakenly sent multiple.  Thus, I am going to Santa them straight to you.  Holly Jolly, Fa La La.  Just call me your favorite Ho Ho Ho.

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So, that is two mugs, each of varying size (one is a taller mug with “I Like Big Books and I Cannot Lie” on it, and one is regular sized with “Fra-GEE-lay!” on it) for you to win!

In order to enter, just comment below and tell me your favorite holiday beverage that you like to drink this time of year.  Be it egg nog, hot cocoa or a festive cocktail, just share it below and you will be entered.  I’ll give everyone a couple of days, but then I’m having my kids pick a name this weekend, so if you want in, comment quick!

That’s it!  Told you it was a quickie.  Wait, what did you think I meant?  Pervert!

You Win Some, You Lose Some

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In case you are wondering, the loser in this situation, at least based on recent occurences and evidentiary support, is me.  We’ll get to the winner in a moment.  But, as to that whole losing thing, it seems that my good buddy and pal, LIFE, has decided to be a cold, hard, manipulative bitch lately.  Maybe it’s that time of the month, huh Lifey ole friend?  And lest you think I might be over-exaggerating my present loser status (But Misty!  You just had a super rad weekend with Val!  Full of fun and shenanigans.  Surely, it can’t be all that bad, right?), let me present to you Exhibits A through D.

Exhibit A:

Last Friday I was hit with a massive chest cold which knocked me on my ass and out of work.  But, since my job sucks (still), I couldn’t just lay in bed in misery on that cold and rainy day.  Oh no, I need a note from a doctor to take a sick day.  Yes, that is correct.  My employer treats us like toddlers that cannot determine when we are able to make it into work and when one of our sick days needs to be taken.  So, despite the fact that my throat hurt like hell and anytime I spoke to someone, I sounded like an 80-year-old asthmatic with a pack-a-day habit (mmmm, sexy), I hauled my ass into the shower and out to the clinic to wait 2 hours just for a note.  That’s it.  No meds.  Nothing.  Just needed a note, thank you very much. 

Exhibit B:

So, remember that whole broken washer saga thing?  And remember how I commented to everyone that it was fixed and I had a functional washer once again?  Yeah, so scratch that.  The working washer only worked for a couple of weeks before it broke again.  And this time, we were told that we needed TWELVE parts to fix it.  So, we had to order the parts, wait for them to be delivered and then schedule another appointment for all of those many parts to be installed.  In the meantime, I’ve had to trek downstairs to my Father in Law’s place to use his washer, which is a huge annoyance.  And although I am very happy that at least I don’t have to go to a laundromat, I want my damn washer to work again!  Especially, when you go downstairs and put in your delicates, leaving another load of delicates in a basket pending washing, and you get busy with trying to decorate the tree and forget to go down again for 2 hours, and your Father in Law, who is just trying to be helpful, puts your wash in the dryer and washes your undies on hot with Tide.  Oy.  I love him for trying, but oy.  I really need my washer back.

Exhibit C:

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That.  Yep, that would be a mouse, peeking out from the dishwasher in my kitchen.  Now I know where all those little black pellets I found in my pantry have been coming from.

Exhibit D:

Tree

The Fucking Tree.  That Goddamn Fucking Christmas Tree!!  This might be a familiar tale, if you have been reading this blog for a while, because it seems that I go through this same Groundhog Day extravaganza every single year.  You see, I’m married to an elf.  He is the most holly jolly of all Christmas elves, while I tend to skew more towards a Grinch-like countenance.  However, over the years, he has definitely pulled me over to the dark candy cane side of holiday spirit.  Which is all well and good, until it comes to the tree.  I am the one who has to decorate the thing.  Meaning lights, bows, ornaments.  The kids help with the ornaments, but up until that point, it’s all me.  Oh, did I mention I’m allergic to pine?  Yeah, that’s another little added bonus to the decorating hell I seem to find myself in every year. 

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This is what my arms look like after a few hours wrestling lights onto the tree.

And look, I’m not trying to be a martyr about this whole thing.  I’m not forced to do the tree, I do it willingly, even knowing what will happen to my arms.  It hurts and itches for a few hours, then is all gone by the next day, so I can deal.  Plus, the hubs just doesn’t have time to do everything, and he does all the outside lights.  So, it’s totally fair.  What isn’t fair is when you spend hours wrapping the lights all around this big majestic beast of a tree in your living room, getting it to look just perfect, and making sure every single strand is working and lighting up before plugging each one into the next . . . only to have the entire thing go dark the next day.  Then, you realize it is the bottom strand that is dead, and are happy your husband picked up an extra strand at Home Depot the previous weekend, and wrestle with the tree to remove that bottom strand and then replace it with the brand new, just out of the box one . . . only to have the whole damn tree go out again the next weekend after you’ve already put the bows on it (in case you’re wondering, I left it dark for a while before replacing that first bottom strand)!  Not believing it could possibly be the brand new strand you put on just a couple of days prior, you test out all sorts of things, before you come to terms with the fact that the new strand is indeed the culprit.  So, you pull that whole thing off, discover one extra strand in one of the Xmas boxes and put that on . . . and a half hour later, everything but that strand goes out.  You are now super pissed, out of lights, and possibly having a mini-breakdown, as you throw a tantrum, complete with whining, stomping, and threats to get a fake tree next year. 

So, in case you lost count, that would be FOUR times the lights went out on the tree, THREE restringing of the lights, ONE temper tantrum and ONE threat to get a fake tree.  All with the kids asking a million times if it’s time now to put the ornaments on.  And that’s just THIS year.  The same damn thing happened last year.  I think I may be cursed.

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So, still doubtful that I’m a big, fat loser in all of this?  Yeah, I didn’t think so.  The Defense rests!!

Now, on to the winner in this scenario . . . the winner of my most recent giveaway.  Yay!!

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In case you forgot . . .

And, as always, I left the pickings to my spawn.  More specifically, my oldest and first born son, 8.

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And the winner is . . . . . .

Emmapick

EMMA5150!!!!

Congrats Emma5150.  Send me all of your info (mistyslaws at gmail dot com) and I will get this prize package out to you presently.  I might just be able to swing it so as to arrive before Xmas!!

And, for all of you big losers out there (don’t worry, you’re in good company . . . with ME), stay tuned for yet another giveaway coming next week!  How did you get so lucky as to get TWO chances to win Misty Laws awesomeness in one month?  Well, partly because of a shipping snafu that sent me extra stuff that I’m going to pass along to you, but mostly just because I’m awesome.  I will even try to post, pick and send in time to arrive before Xmas as well.  No promises, but I’ll try.

Things To Be Thankful For

Around this time of year, you will see many bloggers posting about the things they are thankful for.  Things like . . . family, friends, pumpkin pie, etc.

Well, this is not going to be one of those posts.  I’m not going to give you a list of things that I am thankful for.  I mean, I could, of course.  Obviously, there are many good things in my life, and many reasons to be thankful.  And this is the time of year people reflect and try to be appreciative of all the things that don’t suck right now.  So, this would be the obvious time to give you my thankful items.  But I won’t do that to you.  Because really, do you care about all of the stuff I’m thankful for?  No, you don’t.  You’ve got your own shit going on, your own list of things, your shopping and Thanksgiving meal to prepare.  Why would I make you read some list of stuff you don’t care about?  I wouldn’t.  Because I care, dammit.  You’re welcome.

So, instead of some list, what I’m gonna give you is this . . .

A giveaway!!

That’s right.  So, even if you don’t have anything to be thankful for right now, if you win these items, you will.  See how that works?  I’m a giver.  And for that you can be thankful.  Bam!

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There are some pretty fun things here, yes?  And if you win, and there’s something that you don’t want, well guess what is right around the corner?  That’s right . . . it’s Re-giftmakus!!!

Just in case you can’t see all of the goodies in the picture above, let me break it down for you:

– Bleeped out Knee Socks
– Blingtastic mouse
– Retro hand set for cell phone
– Beer keg koozie
– Oh Snap magnet
– Could You Be a Bigger Bitch? gum (you know you wanna give that to someone).
– Maybe You Touched Your Genitals hand sanitizer
– Work Sucks red knit cap (Office Space style)

All you have to do to be entered is comment.  Yep, no hoops to jump through here, folks.  It’s the holidays and we’re all tired already.  And we haven’t even hit Black Friday yet.

As always, my spawn will do the honors and pick a big wiener in a week or so.  Whenever I get around to it.  Because I’m busy, that’s why.  Don’t rush me!

In the meantime, I hope all of you and yours have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and celebrate it as was intended by our forefathers . . . with a big full belly in front of the tube watching a football game with some booze in your hand.  Ahhhh, now that’s what I’m thankful for!

And do not fear . . . the epic tale of Val’s most recent visit is in the works and pending for next week.  It will be a two-parter.  Yes, it was that epic.  As if you had any doubt.

Happy Turkey Day!!

(And if you’re so inclined, feel free to tell me what you’re thankful for in the comments.  Only if you want to, though.  No pressure).

The Quest to Fall Out

The first time I dialed, I received a busy signal.  That was normal.  I was not deterred.  The second call was met with ringing.  Wait.  But it never rings.  That’s odd.  After three tones I heard a voice . . . “HFS.”  A bit too shocked to comprehend the meaning of those three little letters, I responded as if I had never used a phone before.  “Hello?”

“Hi!” was the response I received.  Starting to realize what this meant, I started talking.  I have no memory of what I said next, but it was apparently enough to convey that I did indeed know why I was calling, I was a cognizant and vocally able individual, and yes please, I would love the prize.

Concert tickets.  Along with a meet and greet before the show.  And even a possibility (although this was not firm yet) of a private show prior to the concert.

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Holy cow!  This was awesome.  Best day ever!  My luck is turning around.  Things are looking up!

But then it got a lot less awesome.  Obviously, not being forward thinking enough to listen to any details before my hot little fingers furiously dialed in to the radio station, I had to ask the DJ when and where the show was.  Tuesday night.  In Virginia.  “And the meet and greet is early, so you should probably take the day off. ”

Hold on now, what’s this you say?  I just wanted to go to a concert, not have to invest an entire day into this whole endeavor.  But, at that moment, all of those were just details.  Because I won.  I won.  That just doesn’t happen.  So, this was a good day.

I arrived home to share the news with my husband.  He was happy for me, but luke warm about the entire prospect.  He would not be able to escort me, since he already had plans to be out of town.  Although, if I had won Kenny Chesney tickets, I bet those plans would have changed.  But regardless, I was now in a position of needing to find a date.  So, I started texting friends.  And began to get many rejections.  For many different reasons.  Childcare issues, Back to School night, Surprise Going Away Party, work meetings, unchangeable doctor’s appointments, etc.  Apparently, this was a very busy Tuesday night for all of my friends and family.  (Either that or they were all coming up with very different and creative ways to blow me off).

It was getting very frustrating.  And I was starting to get worried, and feared that it was hopeless.  I began thinking that I would either have to go by myself, which was not a concept I embraced, or not go at all.  It seemed as if my luck had not turned around at all.  And this would be the second time that I wouldn’t see the band perform whilst having tickets.

Two weeks prior, they played at the State Fair.  I had bought tickets, good seats as well.  But when the night arrived, there was just no possible way that we were going to be able to go.  It was impossible.   And here I was again, in possession of presumably good seats to see this very same band, and needing to forego them because I could not find anyone who wanted to go.

Then I received an email from the DJ with details for the day.  Arrive by 2:45 to meet the band.  Get your tickets there.  Oh, and by the way, they will play a private show just for the winners before the concert.

Damn, this was a game changer.  I had to go to this thing.  Even alone if necessary.  Because while the meet and greet was no big deal, since I’m not a squeeing teenaged fangirl of the band members, I did love their music.  Seeing a private and intimate performance from the band would be a once in a lifetime experience.  Not to be missed.

But 2:45 was early.  So very early in the day.  I would basically have to take a half day to ensure I arrived at that time.  DC traffic is notoriously awful at all times of the day.  All I would need was one backup and I’d be done.

But I had to do it.  There was no other option.  Now, I just needed to find someone to go with me!  Getting desperate, I posted on both of my facebook accounts (private and blog), offering anyone who could do it the chance to go with me and see the band.  I will neither confirm nor deny the fact that I also offered up the opportunity to molest the lead singer.  Nevertheless, I had zero takers, unless you count my former au pair who now lives in Venezuela and another friend who lives in Oregon.  So, basically nobody.

And then I finally got a bite.  I had texted my niece to see if she could make it, and she was very wishy washy about the whole thing.  Then, I let her know about the private show, and she was onboard.  She would make it happen.  She just had to pawn off her nephews to her parents for babysitting and get a substitute teacher for her class.  No sweat!

The day of the show, I somehow arrived at the venue very quickly, although already a bit sweaty because it was 95* outside and the A/C in my car is broken.  Nevertheless, I was there on time, met my niece there, and rendezvoused with the other winners and DJ.  We were all very excited and ready!  So, after some ridiculousness involving trekking all the way around the stadium (did I mention it was really hot?) to go down to the band entrance and go into a very nicely air conditioned lobby, only to be unceremoniously kicked back out into the sweltering heat because security had to show us their big balls, we eventually were escorted inside and into a room.  Within thirty seconds, the band came walking right in.  I had never seen them in person before, and my first impression of them was that they were very wee.  Like teeny tiny boys.  I wanted to just grab all of them and stick them in my pockets.  They were precious and adorable.

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Fall Out Boys

As they entered the room, one of the guys joked with us that we looked like we were lined up for a firing squad (we had all been told to sit on all these window seat benches against the wall, and we were good little lemmings, so we did).  Then, he went on to say that the lead singer wasn’t going to speak because he had voice issues and was saving his voice for the concert, so if he wasn’t singing on stage, he was mandated not to make a peep.  Now, you might have some clue as to what this portends, but at that moment, nothing registered in my noggin that foretold trouble and disappointment.  But we’ll get there.

The band was awesome.  Very laid back and personable.  Accessable and gracious.  Fun and funny.  I met them, got my picture taken with them (after which I thanked them, to which they responded with a very genuine, “no, thank you.”), and got them to autograph my CD case.  There were about twenty of us, and they took pictures and signed things for all of us.  It was very nice.  And very quick.

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Before we knew it, we were being asked to leave the room and were sent back out into the heat.  Wondering what the itinerary was for the rest of the day, I asked the DJ.  He very deftly avoided my question and moved away.  Hmmm, that’s odd.  But I did not have long to wait for the answer to my question.  He got everyone’s attention and announced that since the lead singer was saving his voice for the stage, that meant that they had to cancel the private concert.

I was crushed.  What a disappointment.  We were all a little shell shocked at that point.  I mean, we met the band and that was cool, and we still had the concert to attend much later in the night, but . . . The private concert was a once in a lifetime event.  And we were so looking forward to it.  But, it was not to be.

But, we had to rally.  So, my niece and I hooked up with another pair of winners, drove to a local sushi restaurant, had some food and drinks and chatted away the time, and then returned to see the show.  The original plan was to leave soon after the band went on, thinking that we lived very far away, we both had to work the next day, and anyway, we were going to get to see them play their songs before the concert just for us, so who needed the concert for the masses?  Yeah, well we ended up staying until right before the first encore. I hated to leave, because the concert was incredible, but we had to start our long trek home, as we had been there for almost eight hours.  As for the lead singer’s voice, you could tell he was strained on some of the higher registers, but you could only tell if you knew he had an issue.  Otherwise, it was fabulous.

I was finally able to see the band in concert, so that’s a relief.  But the addendum to this story is that laryngitis and I are officially fighting, and the band owes us a private show.  I’m holding them to that.  Whether they know of this or not.

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Beach ball-apalooza

The Hangover

Well, since we’ve probably all been in a drunken stupor for the past two weeks after trying out ALL of the delicious drink recipes from this post . . . what do you mean it’s just me?  And why is it so bright in here?  And why are you talking SO LOUDLY.  Oh, my aching head!

Anyway, before I go lie down for a couple of hours with a cold washrag on my head, I guess I should tell everyone who won the giveaway from that post.  Remember these?

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Yet again, I enlisted the assistance of my lovely spawn to help pick the winner of these highly coveted prizes . . .

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And the winner of the Sock Monkey Wine Koozie and the Wine Tags is:

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PINOTNINJA

Congrats, my dear!  Just send your deets my way, and I will get this out to you.  But not right now.  Just the thought of wine right now is making my poor head pound.  I need to go take some aspirin and lie down.  But soon . . . soon.

Drink It Up!

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but I have a swimming pool in my backyard.  I most likely have not brought up the subject previously because the pool is of no consequence to me.  I don’t swim.  And no, I don’t mean that I don’t know how to swim.  I was a lifeguard as a teenager, for pete’s sake!  No, I just do not go into the pool.

However, this does not stop our entire extended family from using our backyard, and the pool within, as their own personal summer vacation destination.  Any number of them stop by during the week while we are at work and enjoy a nice dip in the pool.  And every weekend, there are at least a few out there swimming and enjoying the sun.  This is all completely acceptable to us, as our family is rad (the hubs’ side, anyway), and we extend our hospitality to them at any time, even if we are not present.

On the weekends, when multiple family members descend upon our property, we will often go outside to spend time with them.  And by “we” I mean that my husband and kids will go swim in the pool, while I whip up some kind of alcoholic concoction to share with the group.  Sitting by the pool with my feet up and a cocktail in my hand is a perfectly acceptable way to enjoy watching the family splash around in the pool.

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A few weeks ago, on Memorial Day weekend, the family all showed up for the first time this year, in an unofficial “start of summer” pool party.  Each summer, I try to come up with a new drink that I can prepare and share with the family when they come over.  I am sort of the unofficial bartender of the family, if you will.  They’ve come to expect some interesting and delicious concoction to be whipped up by yours truly and served to them each year, and I try not to disappoint.  This year, I decided to go with a simple, yet quite tasty, little drink.  A strawberry lemonade.  But an adult strawberry lemonade.

STRAWBERRY LEMONADE
 
1 part Strawberry flavored Vodka
2 parts lemonade
splash of grenadine for color
 
Garnish with fresh strawberries if desired. 
 

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See?  Super simple, but very delicious.  If you make it, you can obviously play with the ratios of alcohol to lemonade based on how strong you like your drinks.  If you want to go half and half, go for it!

Ok, now it’s your turn!  Seeing as I am always looking for new and creative drink recipes to subject treat my family to, I want you to comment below with a fun summer drink recipe.  But don’t worry, I will give you something in exchange for the generous sharing of your most delicious and prized recipes . . . because this is a giveaway post!

One lucky commenter will recieve this prize:

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A Wine Monkey wine bottle sock monkey, and Winelines, I.D. tags for your stemware (both by Fred & Friends, of course!).  Fun, right?

One of my sons will pick a name from a hat, and whoever wins will recieve this rad prize.  So, give me your best drink recipes in the comments, and you could win these items that will make your drinking experience that much more memorable and enjoyable!

(Note:  if you do not drink alcohol, please feel free to leave a non-alcoholic drink recipe.  If you win, you can always give these items to someone in your life that does imbibe spirits).

So, hit me with your best shots, people.  Oh wait, nevermind . . . I don’t do shots.  Not since the infamous Lemon Drop Incident of ’98.  The memory of that night still makes me cringe.  But regardless, give me your best drink concoctions below.

Cheers!!

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