2005: A Reflection

As 2005 officially comes to a close, I like to think back on what the past year has brought. What have I done? What have I learned? Regrets, life lessons and all around good times. It is time for reflection.

New Year's 2005 was rung in at Popstar's house with an overflowing toilet and an offer of a massage. I believe that the latter was the more distasteful of the two. Following that, here are the highs and lows of 2005...

January: Headed to Disney with the Midge and Durk and had a ball.

February: I moved into my own place and hosted a Super Bowl party 5 days later. The part was a great success despite being BYOC (bring your own chairs)

March: Other then my niece being born on St. Patrick's Day, March was the worst month of 2005. Lots of traumatic shit went down over a few week period. And I had to march in a parade wearing a bed plastic green hat.

April: T and Gail B celebrated their 30 wedding anniversary, feeding in to my naive notion of true love that lasts forever. Thanks for setting a great example. And she has a fine ass, I get it.

May: I was away more then I was home traveling to exotic locations such as Memphis, Vermont and San Diego.

June: Hit the big 2-6 and celebrated by falling asleep in my hotel room in San Diego at 6 pm. Granted that was after a 6 am cross country flight and 3 beers. I am such a rock star.

July: Spent most of this month lounging on the beach in South Carolina working on my tan and spending QT with the fam. Also, big sis got engaged.

August: Vegas, baby! What happens there stays there. Sorry.

September: September also blew. Nothing exciting happened and I had to work too much. I did find new craft project...making personalized t-shirts. This came in hand later in the year when Midge and I had to commemorate Mr. Miyagi's life that was tragically cut short. But that is another story.

October: Spent 57 of the worst hours of my life rain and mud soaked at the Hartford Marathon. Followed by a long weekend in San Fran where I was invited to a bachelor party, although I am not sure in what capacity.

November: Headed out to the old west with my two sisters , crashed up my rental car and didn't have to cook Thanksgiving dinner

December: I celebrated Christmas with my whole family, engaged in a heated Christmas Card competition (which I am happy to say I came in 2nd) Played 215 games of Hold'em including the most inappropriate game ever where my father made tasteless jokes about the Midge and my 14 year old cousin. I also was forced to spend Christmas Eve at my parent's house who guilt tripped me into staying there. After a night in the small Queen bed sleeping under the plastic stars I affixed to the ceiling when I was 15, I was awoken by Gail B to open presents. Let me reiterate, I am 26.

All in all, I would consider 2005 to be a good year in the life of Ms. McDougall. That does not stop me from wanting more in 2006. Mark my words...2006 will be the year of McDougall.

There are no words...

McDougall’s Fragile Psyche

Dreams have always held a lot of mystery for me. Why does it happen and what does it mean? I am one of those people who never remembers my dreams. I am lucky if I can remember one a month.

So this morning when I woke up with not one but two dreams fresh in my memory, I was intrigued. Not only for the fact that I remembered them but for the fact that they were both very violent and disturbing dreams.

In the first dream, I was attacked by someone and they knocked my tooth out.

Interpretation: To dream that you are being attacked by someone signifies questions on your character and the need for you to defend yourself. You are feeling stressed, vulnerable and helpless. You may also be faced with difficult changes in your waking life.

The second dream was more detailed. I fell asleep at my kitchen table and when I woke up I had been robbed. Everything was gone. Things of significance? My sheets, my couch and my Christmas tree were missing. The presents and the decorations had been taken and my tree was outside on my deck. I got mad and ran outside to find the culprit. When I thought I did, I backed off and went back inside.

Interpretation: To dream that you are sleeping, denotes peace of mind. Alternatively, it may also mean that you are ignorant and not fully aware of the conditions and circumstances around you. Perhaps you are refusing to recognize a negative aspect of yourself.

To dream that you have been robbed, denotes that you are experiencing an identity crisis or you are suffering some sort of loss in your life. Alternatively, you may feel that someone has stolen your success or has taken credit for something you did.

All this goes to prove is that I am in touch with my subconscious as I have addressed many of these exact issues this week with my newfound New Year’s Resolution.

I just need to learn not be so mean to myself, even in my dreams. I’m a good kid and deserve better.

Eating Snow

Last night I embarked on my first ever snowboarding experience. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. However, I have always been athletic. Balance is not usually an issue because my stature provides me with an extremely low center of gravity. Add to that, the fact that I am a stubborn asshole and these all seemed to be qualities that would make me be a pseudo-success at snowboarding.

Going into the evening, I had a few goals:

1. Get off the lift without falling
2. Don't break anything
3. Don't be a pussy

That was it. Simple enough, right?

I arrived at the mountain on time, as usual and had to wait for my sister who was late, as usual. I headed up to the rental building figuring I would get my goodies while I waited. Things started badly there.

The girl who was supposed to help me yelled at me right off the bat. She yelled at me for putting my lift ticket on my jacket and because I didn't know what size snowboard I needed. I answered every one of her questions the same way..."I've never done this before." Then she got really pissed when she asked me if my stance was "standard" or "goofy." Huh? Is riding on your ass a stance option?

Thankfully, at this point a more experienced member of my party arrived to help me out. He explained things to me without making me feel stupid while the girl behind the counter rolled her eyes.

Once I got all my gear all set, the four of us headed out to the mountain. Here is a picture of me upright. It will be the last one you see. Notice, I am not even clipped in which is the reason I am still standing.

It took me a little bit to get used to the board and the whole toe vs. heel edge thing but pretty soon, I was making it about 5 feet without falling. Then 10. The Bunny Hill was not going to be the boss of me.

It was suggested that we head over to the other lift to go to a higher and more challenging run. I was game. We did the "snowboard shuffle" over which had to be at least 10 miles away. It sucked, plain and simple. Once we reached it, the lift broke. And we waited.

As we waited, the line of people behind us grew longer and longer. Filled with visions of myself causing a 20 person pile-up trying to get off the lift, I decided to head back to the other less dangerous side of the mountain.

After an hour of falling, exhaustion and pain started to take over.

The first photo was a staged version of what I looked like most of the night. The photo below however isn't. This occurred when Gadamoose attempted to show me how to use my heel edge. What followed was disastrous. I went down and smacked my head so hard, my hat actually flew off. Thankfully, I have a hard head and there is no permanent damage.

On our way over to the challenging lifts for the second time, I got stonewalled by a ski lesson. I couldn't cut over because there were people strewn all over the mountain and I was not good enough to manuever through them. As a big believer in signs, I took this to mean I was not supposed to go any higher. My second attempt to get on the lift was thwarted. I could take a hint. So the three of them headed over while I took a much needed break.

However, I am a total psycho. I cannot sit ideally and watch. My party was gone for about 2 minutes when I decided to head back up and face the mountain alone.

The first run went by without incident. When I got to the bottom, I turned around to get back on the lift. The girl laughed at me as I was covered in snow and breathing like Darth Vader.

Ski lift girl: "Are you ok?"
McDougall: "I am going to learn how to do this if it kills me."

That last run down was the worst one. I was bruised and exhausted but I put on my game face and got it done. My buddies were at the bottom waiting for me, cheering me on as I rolled down the hill.

Total Damage: bruises and aches everywhere. My knees look like Kuato's babies are going to pop out at any moment. Nice red welt on my chest where I got the wind knocked out of me. Bruised left hip. Strained left calf muscle. Shooting pain up my right wrist.

Goals:

1. Made it off the lift ONCE without falling
2. Didn't break anything
3. Was not a pussy.

The Verdict: I feel great and and hitting the slopes again next Wednesday.

Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging

Seeing people fall is always funny. Maybe I am evil, but it cracks me up every time. We were talking about this very topic today at lunch and sharing our personal horror stories. Plain and simple, it is hilarious even if it happens to you. And trust me, I've had my fair share!

From Shaun on the bull to Fred's bowling alley folly and of course my not so graceful exit to the bathroom in Vegas last year, it is classic slapstick comedy at its best. Here are some other stories worth mentioning....

A friend of mine at work was sitting in her office when she fell out of her chair. Even the chair toppled over too. This incident would have been funny in and of itself, but the fact that our boss was walking by made it even funnier. He heard the ruckus and came running over to see if she was alright. He found her on the floor with the chair on top of her. I must have missed this day at work but thankfully, she provided me with a reenactment this afternoon that proved just as funny.

Growing up, my grandparents owned a house on the lake where we visited them almost every weekend during the summer. They had this back porch that was all sliding glass doors. I have a very clear memory of my sister running up the stone steps towards that door. I was sitting inside watching her and thinking "that door is closed; this is going to be funny." And sure enough, about 10 seconds later, she slammed right into it. That still makes me laugh to this day.

A few years back I was walking down an icy driveway with a significant other. He started to slip and he tried to grab my arm for support to keep him from falling. My immediate reaction was to yank my arm away as quick as possible so as not to go down with him. He found himself in a pile of snow and I laughed my ass off. My defense was that I couldn't have possibly supported him as he outweighed me by about 70 pounds. After this incident, every time we got into a fight I'd get "You let me fall!" thrown back in my face. Two year of that. However, give the opportunity, I'd do it again.

This is an especially appropriate topic today as tonight I will be embarking on my first snowboarding adventure where I will undoubtedly have my share of noteworthy falls. To add insult to injury, we are going to take pictures in an attempt to document this outing so all of you can laugh at me as well.

New Year’s Resolution

This year I am breaking my annual tradition of not making a New Year’s Resolution. In the past, I have refused to partake in this damaging tradition based on the fact that you are pretty much setting yourself up for disappointment when you fail to achieve a pipe dream that you have not been able to accomplish in previous years.

I have opted for a more abstract resolution. Rather then giving something up or trying to find the meaning of life, I have chosen to work on something that has bothered me for a long time.

Recent events have prompted me to identify my problem and take action to correct it. I have decided that I am going to live my life on my terms. I have always been a giver and in the past, have given pieces of myself away that I have yet to get back. I need to learn to make decisions based on my best interest instead of taking a consensus of what everyone else thinks. I need to learn to trust my judgment in knowing what is best for me.

In short, I am going to start asking myself…what would McDougall do? How will McDougall feel about this? Is this a good decision for me? I am going to stop giving a shit about what others think I should be doing or where they think I should be at this point in my life. The decision is not theirs to make…they don’t live with the consequences. I do.

So I am done. I am taking the power back and taking control of my life. That is my firm resolution.

Be A Man

My sister sent me the following link today and it has made me very sad. A whole section on what to buy your metrosexual boyfriend for Christmas? Is this where we are headed?

As one of the apparent last single women around who truly appreciates a rugged man, I believe that this is the downfall of our society. Why are we catering to these pansy ass men? Why can’t we just buy them tools and video games and other such manly paraphernalia?

Other then my penchant for shoes and crying, I am not a girly girl. I was not raised that way. My father always told me that if someone hits you, you hit them back. I have often been accused of taking the side of the boys when it comes to arguments, shopping, decorating, and toilet humor.

Much to my mother and sister’s dismay, I have chosen poker or the Giants over shopping. I drink beer and like football, basketball and boxing. I ran the NCAA pool last year. Gadgets, AV equipment and computers turn me on. My favorite Christmas present last year was my electric drill/screwdriver. It takes me 30 minutes to get ready, including my shower. I suck at being a girl.

If I am supposed to be buying my guy books about bad hair days and wine glasses, there is a problem. Guys are supposed to have bad hair days, scruff, bad clothes and drink beer. They are supposed to enjoy playing sports, sweating and getting dirty. When did it become ok for men to get manicures, pedicures, highlights and facials? I don’t even do those things.

So it stands to reason that the last thing I would like is a guy who acts like more of a chick then I do. If that is the case, I will remain steadfastly single until men are men again.

Wanna Bet??

At this time of year, most people are filled with holiday cheer, graciousness and the spirit of giving. In my family, we are filled with the desire to compete. The day after Thanksgiving kicks off one the oldest McDougall traditions...tis the season of betting.

The McDougall's can make a competition out of anything. Whether it be a "friendly" poker game after the dinner dishes are cleared or a full out bocce tournament complete with bracketology at a family picnic. We even had a baby pool going with an over/under as to how long my sister was going to be in labor. I won.

We used to play a family football game every Thanksgiving against my aunt's family. This game has since been cancelled. It got out of hand one year when we all showed up in matching Giant themed shirts that Eboogie made. Plus, the boys are now well over six feet and the touch football game always turned into hard core tackle. Too many injuries.

Christmas time is different. We have two competitions we engage in every year...the Christmas Card Competition and Secret Santa. The Christmas Card competition came about 4 years ago. My sister and I had moved in together and foolishly claimed that between the two of us, we were going to accumulate more cards then my parents. I believe they beat us by a good 20 or so that year. Slowly we climbed back and last year's game gave them a run for their money. I believe that it actually ended in a tie. Of course there were three of us pooling our resources.

This year is going to be quite interesting since I have moved out and Pooh has now thrown her hat in the ring. Currently, I am holding strong in 2nd place but T and Gail B have a commanding lead. I have to rally if I am going to win.

Our second and longest running game is Secret Santa. This started when we were kids but we didn't actually start gambling on it until I was in high school. Typical Secret Santa rules apply. The McDougall twist? After the first night of presents, everyone has to write down their picks and seal it in an envelope with $1. Sometimes the envelopes are sealed with hot wax and a thumbprint. We mean business.

On the last night of presents, we open the envelopes and the person who had the most correct wins the pot and bragging rights until next year. This makes the first night of gifts very interesting because we try to frame each other. Good times.

Every family has their own traditions to pass on to younger generations and these are ours. And we are passing them on. In the words of my 13 year old cousin..."Who wants to play for fun when you can play for money?" This is our mantra.

Careful...Mom & Dad are watching

I feel that introductions are necessary now that my blog circle has grown by two. The newest readers are none other then the illustrious ‘T’ and Gail B, or as they are more commonly known by me, Dad & Mom.

At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about Mom & Dad reading the fluff that I post for others to judge, mock and comment on. But after I thought about it, I figured what the hell? I tell them everything anyway. So I say, enjoy…Now you get to see what a nutcase your daughter really is.

My parents are not the most technologically savvy individuals. Gail B’s online expertise is limited to buying antiques on ebay and booking travel on expedia. To my father’s dismay, they are both very costly pastimes. ‘T’ uses the computer to play solitaire and poker.

After Gail B found out what a blog was, she approached my father to spread her newfound wealth of information. This is the actual exchange that took place:

Mom: “Do you know what McDougall’s blogs are?”
Dad: “Her boobies?”

(Disclaimer: Do not liken my father to Joe Simpson…Thankfully, he does not often make comments about my boobies or any other part of my anatomy.)

My father seemed to enjoy the world of blogging. He told my mother that she better prepare herself for the inevitable fact that he will now have to fend off “the ladies” because his photo is online. Then he broke into the ‘T’ dance…think the Bill Cosby with much less rhythm. Those of you who have seem him do it can launch into a nice visual right now and have a good laugh. Those you who haven’t can base your visual on the fact that my dance face comes directly from dear old dad.

He was also excited that he now had a forum to argue with people in. The only hindrance is the typing thing. So I get to be typing bitch as he dictates to me what he wants to say.

Gail B’s reaction was much different. She is afraid that now anything she says or does can potentially become fodder for my blog. And she is correct. So watch it woman!

Drama Jar Week One - The Leaves

Since it seems that there is a lot of interest in this topic, I will keep you all informed of the Senate's decision this week. It has been a slow week in the drama department. I surmise this is because currently, the McDougall sisters are all in different states and we are usually the ones causing the drama.

This is not the case this week. My recommendation to the Senate would have to be 'T', my father. This week he has been fighting his nemesis, the leaves. My father is the man and never shies away from hard work. When both my sister and I moved out, he spent hours after work sanding, painting, spackling and cleaning our places. He spends more time outside in the summer trying to grow grass instead of clovers. And he loves it. But for some reason when it comes time to rake the leaves, he loses it.

They taunt him, plain and simple. He will sit at the window, watch them fall and swear at them under his breath. He called me yesterday solely to bitch about the leaves. When I stopped by this morning, topic of conversations? You guessed it, the damn leaves. He is obsessed.

Last year, he called Billy the Lawn Guy to come over and do them for him because he just couldn't handle it anymore. This year Billy couldn't come until this weekend. 'T', not wanting to wait another 2 days, could not let the leaves get the better of him. So yesterday and today, he went out in full force to get them done.

Here is 'T' hard at work...

and his gi-normous pile of leaves:

This may be a different kind of drama, but I believe that it is drama nonetheless. Bickering with inanimate objects should be construed as a wee bit dramatic, at least in this humble girl's opinion. Anyway it is not for me to say, as I am not a member of the Drama Senate (those bastards won't let girls in.)

We'll have to wait and see what happens.