Tacky Christmas

I love tacky Christmas sweaters...I love tacky Christmas sweater parties. Our friends, Tris and Eric had one this weekend and David and I went in all our tacky glory. It was such a good time. I had gone to Salvation Army to look through their sweater collection because I just knew I would find one for me with detachable ornaments and jingle bells around the neck. Alas, I could not find one. I found about 13 Halloween sweaters that were wonderful, but it's Christmas, so... I just grabbed the grossest sweater I could find and decided I'd "Christmas" it up when I got home. Then, I went and looked through the men's section to find David the perfect costume...and I did. It was awful in its wreathed splendor, so I grabbed it. I was in a hurry, so I quickly paid and headed out the doh (yes, doh). It wasn't until I got home that I noticed something special about David's sweater. Yeah, it had a wreath on it and it wasn't particularly manly, but there was still something different about it. It had pearls all over it...and florets...and gold threading...and shoulder pads...shoulder pads?? Gross, it was a woman's sweater! Well, I wasn't gonna return it because it was just too awesome, so I waited until he got home and gave him a big bear hug and smooch and said "How was your day? Did the audit go well? The sweater I got you for the party is actually a woman's sweater. How is Clint's son? Is he feeling better? Did you get those papers --"  

"What?! What did you say?"

"I said, 'Is Clint's son feeling better?'"

"Nooooo...that's not what I meant and you know it." 

"Ugh. Fine. The sweater I picked up for you at the store might be a woman's sweater. But it was totally in the men's section!"

"Might be?! It has make-up around the neck!"

Well, I assured him it was an honest mistake and when I reminded him that it was a tacky Christmas sweater party and the dumber you looked the better, he relented. But he said I had to make it up to him. So, after washing the sweaters about 31 times, we played some Smash Brothers. (I let him win...like always.) 

I decided to go all out and do some tacky hair and make-up, too. I had to say that because I was afraid people would think I normally did my hair like that. I don't. Just saying. It was for the party. It took me longer to make my hair look that ridiculous than it does to fix it in the morning for work. I wore some awesome earrings that belonged to my great-grandmother and a brooch from like, forever ago. 

Tris and Eric, two of the most incredible photographers I've ever known, took pictures of everybody at the party. Here are mine and David's. This is my "Ruth face." People want me to do the "Ruth face" and here it is. I don't know what it is...I don't know where it came from...it's just...my face. Obviously, David was thrilled with his choice of apparel. What a trooper! Tee hee! Love you, Hugsy. 

Nicknames

So, most everybody has a nickname, right? It's always been funny to me to find out how a person's nickname came about. Some are pretty self-explanatory and relatively normal...like Ruthie for me. Some are not so normal...like, Slett, for my brother, Peter. Nicknames are supposed to be a shortened version of your name or a term of endearment. A lot of times nicknames come from a person's habits or "faults"...like the nickname my friends call me..."Oh Awesome One." I can't help it - it's not my fault I was born awesome. But I've noticed that the majority of nicknames I call people or have heard people called are completely far-fetched and ridiculous, which makes them all the more fun.

I'm pretty sure I got the nickname bug from my grandfather (see "Who Are Bogue and Weejer" post). He started off calling everyone is his life by a nickname. I mean, it was years before I realized my grandmother's name was Daphne, not Snuff. When I first met David, I thought his name was Joe. I don't know why. Doesn't sound anything like David. Well, when we started dating, I called him Joe Bear...which morphed into Puddin' Bear...which morphed into Hugsy Bear (after Hugsy, my bedtime penguin pal from Friends)...which morphed into just Hugsy...then just Zee (from the ending sound of "Hugsy")...then Zipper...then Zip. Then, he started calling me Zap. So, we call each other Zip and Zap. Has nothing to do with our names at all.

I call my Mom Mumsy. I call my Dad Dad, so no nickname there. My mom calls my Dad Papsy or Paps or Specialer (don't ask). Sara and I used to call Noah Boogeretta when he was a baby. That turned into Booger and now we just call him Boog. Mom calls Noah Hoop...from his middle name Harper...she would call him Hooper and then Hoop the Scoop and then just Hoop. I call Peter Wep or Weppers. His nickname in Bulgaria was Pepe...which I turned into Wep. My grandfather gave Peter the nickname Luis Ledbetter...which turned into Slett...because when you say Luis Ledbetter fast enough, it merges the words...Luisledbetter...then Sluis...then Slett. Mom calls Peter Stir. First it was Pep, then Pepster, then Stir. Sara and I call each other Skank. Awesome nickname, I know. We try not to do it in public because people don't realize it's endearing and not a cut-down. Sometimes I call Sara Skankface...she answers to both. Sara's middle name is VanNuys...which Mom turned into Vamooser and now Mom just calls Sara Mooser. When Noah was a baby, he couldn't say Ruthie...so, he said Woosie and then Soofie...so, they call me Soof at home. David's nickname in my family is Elvis. One time, almost 10 years ago, David sent me a recording he had done and he was singing and Noah comes up and says, "he sounds like Elvis" and Mom thought it was hilarious and she and the rest of my family have called him that ever since. So, all of our Christmas presents are labeled...Specialer, Mooser, Soof, Elvis, Hoop and Stir.

I do love nicknames and I love people's real names...it's just fun to call them something ridiculous. Here is a list of a few nicknames for my friends:

Blue the Cat = Blueshky/Bluebird/Shmrrgrrrs/Shmear/Shmeow Shmeow/Shmitty Shmat

Seumas the Dog = Monster/Shluppy/Ruppy Rog/Shamtar/Shammers

Brandi = Brandar

Shane = Shanedar

Tris = Trissers

Eric = Erica

Tris & Eric's unborn child = Chappie/Chappita

Ryan = Little Ryan

Chris = Little Chris

Melissa = MelBel/Lissa/Lissers

Melanie = Shmoop/Shmee/Moop

Graham = Graham Cracker (that one's easy)

Erin = Rrrrn

Mike = Shmike

Malinda = Linder/Linder Pants

Amber = Ber/Little Ber/Arbs

Zack = Shmack

Tiffany = Tip/Tippers

Beth = Beffff/Bethers

Billy = Kaniggit

Beth and Billy's unborn child = McNugget

Other Melissa = Missy

Abigail = Abbs

Audry = Odd

Whitney = Shwit

Cousin Drew = Droopy Drawers/Droops

Cousin Jake = Jakkers

Amy = Ames

Glenda = G

Ashley = Shlayfer

Kelly = Kells/The Google Queen

Other Ashley = Ashey/Hoshley

I generally stick close to their names and I'll add "Sh" or "Shm" or "Little" or "ers" and that's pretty much it.