Sunday, December 17, 2006

Christmas blows.

I know you people think I'm a genius, a prodigy, multitalented on so many levels that it brings new meaning to the prefix 'multi.' Okay, I don't know you think that, but just go with me on this. The point is, no matter what level of intellect and talent you assumed I possessed, I'm here to correct you, and show you how gravely you've overestimated me. Turns out I'm way, way dumber than you could have imagined. Perhaps the only smart thing I've been able to do consistently is find new, more spectacular and innovative ways to prove how dumb I really am.

Take, for instance, the gingerbread house. If you've been a reader of this blog for more than a few minutes, or if you've ever spent any time with me at all, you know I'm definitely not the kind of person who trots around the kitchen in an apron, baking delicious treats for my family. In fact, I've made exactly one cake in my entire life, and that was from a mix. I've made cookies a total of 3 times, also from mixes. My strategy thus far has been to take the considerable time and effort that I know is required to learn how to be good cook, and instead devote that time and effort to perfecting my drinking skills--which I have to say, has paid off. I'm excellent at that. But we make choices in life, and inevitably, when we choose Thing A, Thing B necessarily suffers. Thus, while I was out modeling myself after Dudley Moore in Arthur, my skills in the kitchen shriveled and died, along with two-thirds of my liver. That's the best explanation I can give you for the horror you're about to see here.

My neighbor bought two gingerbread house kits; one for her and one for me. Her idea was for the two of us to hang out together at one of our houses and assemble our gingerbread houses while her daughter and my son played underfoot. Quaint, no? Charming, even. I thought it was a very sweet idea, and really nice of her to think of me.

I should have known how it would turn out. My neighbor is good at everything. Everything! She's a great cook, an excellent host, she's crafty, and she can successfully grow all manner of flowers and vegetables without killing them in a matter of a week like I would. It's not easy living mere feet from such an overachiever, and I'd probably hate her if not for the fact that she feeds me from time to time, and brings me desserts or glasses of wine now and then. Instinctively, she must know the secret to keeping bitter, underachieving neighbors from gutting her with her own lemon zester is to ply them with food and booze. Smart girl.

At any rate, the Great Gingerbread House Fiasco netted me a few of the saddest photos in the history of photography. Below, see her adorable little specimen on the left, and my post-Hurricane Katrina model on the right.

Need a closer look? Here's Bree Van De Camp's house, zoomed in for your inspection and admiration: And no, it's not done yet in these photos. I'm only showing you how far each of us was able to get in the given time. I'm sure it got even more picturesque and fabulous when she added the final touches later at her own house. Look, she even remembered to put a doorknob on the front door!

By shocking contrast, here's my own Keebler Elf Haunted House:


I know it looks like I put it together one-handed in the shower while I shaved my legs with the other hand, but I assure you, we completed our projects under the exact same conditions. And to answer your question, I was indeed stone-cold sober at the time. Maybe that was the problem.
The next day, when my son, almost two years old, would amble around the kitchen and point to this new addition sitting on the countertop, looking inquisitively at me for the word to identify it, I would hang my head and mutter, "Uh...gingerbread house," and then quickly distract him, ashamed of the lie I was telling the impressionable, trusting boy. Because it's really not a gingerbread house, is it? It's a fucking monstrosity, a slab of iced shit, but it's not nice to say things like that to a toddler, so I lied and let him think that gingerbread houses all look like they've been peed on belligerent, fairy tale giants. One of these days he's going to see a picture of a normal, perfect gingerbread house in a book or on TV, and he's going to swivel his head to glare at me, and shout accusingly, "You lied, mommy."

A day and a half later, I did the right thing: I chucked it in the trash, putting us all out of our misery. Well, after I ate half of a roof panel. Fairy tale giant pee tastes better than you'd think.

52 comments:

CommonWombat said...

For the record, this?

"Because it's really not a gingerbread house, is it? It's a fucking monstrosity, slab of iced shit, but it's not nice to say things like that to a toddler, so I lied and let him think that gingerbread houses all look like they've been peed on belligerent, fairy tale giants. "

An entire paragraph of pure comic gold. That should make you feel good, especially in light of the fact that you have some sort of kitchen-leprosy. I mean Jesus lady, that house looks like it was decorated by a blind epileptic on a sugar bender.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

A regular Martha Stewart you ain't. Looks like somebody splooged all over your gingerbread crackhouse.

But don't be so hard on yourself, crazy babbler. You couldn't possibly be dumber than I imagine.

Anonymous said...

I've always wondered what it would look if the Keebler Elves gratified themselves all over a gingerbread house. Now I know.

CommonWombat said...

I've re-thought my previous analogy. Disregard the earlier comment. Your house looks like it was decorated by Stevie Wonder, while being dragged over a bed of seashells behind a galloping mule.

CommonWombat said...

Oh, and I mean your real house, not the gingerbread one.

Antonio said...

Damn, that is one dilapidated house. Maybe you start a new tradition "The Gingerbread Projects". You can even stick a little Lego crackhead in front of the house. Of course, then you'd forget he's plastic and try to eat him.

Anonymous said...

You could have told everyone that your son made it all by himself. People would be impressed.

karla said...

Wombat: Um...leprosy? You mean I have a skin disease? That makes sense. Drunk prick.

Dyckerson: Thanks, sweetie.

Lux: I wouldn't do that to Jake. I'm pretty sure relatives would demand that I have him evaluated for being slow. The house was THAT bad.

praying mantis said...

Looks like a house from the Appalachians here in Kain-tucky!

Anonymous said...

OKay, so you're not Martha Stewart - (Thank God, she's a boring pathetic creature.) You, on the other hand are a down to earth and considerate person. At least you tried. Who knows, maybe the experience will prepare you for another and more successful attempt in the future.

And oh yes, Martha Stewart on her best day could never make me laugh like your posts do.

Anonymous said...

Next time, have the neighbor do ALL the cooking, while you toy with a glass of pinot noir. Pinot grigio is good, too. Being you, you probably know that already.

Anonymous said...

HAHAHAHA that is HILARIOUS. What is MOST funny about these pictures is the little ways you tried to imitate your neighbor's genius, like your own "doorbell" made of a M&M that is leaking down the door in a giant cascade of frosting. At some point, I would have given up and probably started crying and made her finish it for me. But not you! You persevered in a crazy babbling fashion, and I wish you'd auctioned it off....

mindy said...

that is the scariest gingerbread house i've ever seen!! karla.. not drinking before hand?? what were you thinking??
i actually picked up one of these kits yesterday and thought about buying it and having a pretty gingerbread house.. and then i remembered that i don't cook, don't decorate, so what kind of chance did this house really have?

Anonymous said...

You must be really, really good at drinking.

p2

Brookelina said...

I don't care what it looks like. I'd eat it.

Got milk?

The Bard of the Wood said...

I bet you can drink her under the table, though. Post some pictures of THAT day, and see how she likes her perfect little gingerbread house then.

Anonymous said...

It looks like you seriously should have had a few drinks first to relax and not care about making a perfect.......ly boring cookie cutter ginger bread house. Seriously, try to get a look at what her g'bread houses from past years look like. I bet you they look way too similar. I mean honestly, there is not enough candy and frosting on hers.

Just get back to the best part of this Christmas, the last year before your son gets old enough to really understand what Santa and all the rest of Chrismas crap is. For instance if you drink too much Xmas Eve and can't get Xmas morning together, you could just push it to the next day. Or make-up something about the "magical noon hour" when Santa comes while little boys are taking their naps.

Edge said...

Wow, your house is like the white trash neighbor gingerbread house where the beer cans are in the yard and the gingerbread man comes out and smokes in his wife beater and has that husky gingerbread man laugh.

~Jef

Anonymous said...

Of course hers looks better. She didn't put in any windows or put any icing on her gables. She took the easy way out, and you rose to the challenge.

Who am I kidding? You did right with the mercy kill.

Bonanza Jellybean said...

Well, at least you didn't wait for FEMA to show up and try to fix it. :)

And I LOVED it- it was way better than that run-of-the-mill thing next to it. Yours has CHARACTER.

GhostHost said...

It's strange how women rate themselves by different standards than men. Being male, you could take a wrecking ball to either house leaving a smouldering pile of gingerbread and frosting and I'd still think it tastes the same and give it a thumbs up.

Jenn said...

OMG! Did the icing tube explode? Are you okay? You didn't shoot your eye out with errant icing, did you?

Anonymous said...

I'm sure that this was not the point of your story, but I'm kind of jealous that you live next to Bree. I long for a neighbor who brings me fresh cut flowers and glasses of wine. ...hmmmm sounds like a date when I put it like that.

Now, about your gingerbread house -- what is that slopey thing adorned with m&m's to the right of the door? What kind of house did you grow up in???!!! :)

Mr. Fabulous said...

Just as well. You never would have gotten a certificate of occupancy.

TexasGal said...

Now I know what a Gingerbread Crack House would look like! Just kidding! Those things are a pain in the a**. I tried making one once where you actually had to bake the gingerbread. The panels all baked to different sizes. I tried filling the gaps in with frosting...it looked a lot worse than yours!

Gecko Bloggle said...

Awesome.

Instead of "Pimp My Gingerbread House," you've given me a golden idea for HollyWood:

"Put Gingerbread on My Pimp"

We'll make millions, I tell ya.

Anonymous said...

Abe Lincoln on the civil unrest: "A house divided cannot stand".

Pug on the latest project: "I cannot stand Karla's Gingerbread house".

Anonymous said...

Abe Lincoln on the civil unrest: "A house divided cannot stand".

Pug on the latest project: "I cannot stand Karla's Gingerbread house".

Ole Blue The Heretic said...

*finishes eating a ginger bread cookie* You know *smacks lips and drinks some milk* I don't care how bad the ginger bread house looks, if it is ginger bread I will eat the house.

Now I am off for more cookies!

CommonWombat said...

I keep re-visiting this post for some reason. I think it's because the more I look at the pictures, the more convinced I am that you had to be TRYING to make your house look that bad. I'm taking into account the following:

a) I know for a fact that you are in posession of all your limbs and not given to having siezures.

b) I know that you are a fitness instructor and therefore I assume that you have some degree of physical coordination.

c) Who the fuck can't ice a fucking gingerbread house?

So I think you are faking this whole story. I think both pictures are YOUR house. The first is a "before" picture, and the second is "after" you drunkenly tried to lick all the icing off. Just admit it.

If it makes you feel any better, I think gingerbread houses kind of stupid. Now make a gingerbread dildo, or a gingerbread anus... Maybe a diorama with little gingerbread monkeys flinging icing poo at each other... Then you might get my attention.

Anonymous said...

You have to write a book for 2007.
As always a wonderful post.
Take care,
Frances

karla said...

Wombat: I think I know why you keep revisiting this post: You have no life. Plus, you're obsessed with me.

As for my gingerbread house, I swear I didn't intentionally make it look like something you'd find in a toilet just so I could get a blog post out of it. I really tried...although I did get angrier and angrier as the struggle continued, so maybe I took my anger out on my poor little cookie house.

Either way: Get a life.

Monkey said...

peed on belligerent, fairy tale giants

I laughed cranberry juice through my nose. I should have come over here years ago. Thanks for lifting the shroud of my depression with this heart warming holiday tale.

LisaBinDaCity said...

Um, it's the thought that counts? ;-)

Looked seriously yummy anyway!

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Yeah Wombat, get a fucking life. Only losers write multiple comments for one post. And if anyone around here is going to be obsessed with Ms. Babble, it is ME. So step aside, amateur.

karla said...

Oooh, I love it when a fight over me breaks out in the comments section.

kerrianne said...

I'm totally not laughing right now. Well, I sort of am. But I'm laughing with your gingerbread house, which I think has to laugh, because it really does look pretty awesome. And "Bree VanDeCamp" was an awesome reference.

Dustin said...

Was that right front window actually at a 45 degree angle or was that just the lighting?

No judgement, honestly. =)

CommonWombat said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
CommonWombat said...

Knock yourself out, Dyck. Feel free to be Karla's #1 stalker. I can tell you from experience that it only ends in tears... Well, that and herpes.

And Crabs. Tears, herpes and crabs. And the worst part of it is, some of the crabs actually have herpes also.

Also you should know that contracting herpes from karla does not mean you get to sleep with her. The herpes is carried in her saliva, and she spits like a fucking llama.

Crashtest Comic said...

I've never seen a gingerbread shanty before.

Looks like the apartment from Good Times.

Jessica said...

At a glance of the photos, I just knew you were going to tell us that you had decorated the one on the left and let Jake have his way with the house on the right but, apparently....not so much.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Wombat, I'll see your herpes & crabs and raise you a bad case of The Clap. And I get spat upon on a daily basis - that's why I never leave the house without one of those spit shields the prison guards wear.

Now if the babbler starts flinging her feces at me, then I'll start to worry. I prefer to get my e-Coli the old fashioned way: from Taco Bell onions.

John said...

I peed on a gingerbread house once. Well, by gingerbread I mean graham crackers and by house I mean a s'more. Well I didn't actually pee on a s'more I peed on the hand I burned while making the marshmallow for the s'more and I didn't wash it off before I made the s'more. wait....what? Happy Hannukkah

Anonymous said...

Dude, don't worry about it, cause your house looks WAY tastier. More frosting = better. I would eat the shit out of that house like I was Godzilla, and that's no lie.

Nocturnal said...

A little bit bigger, and a full six pack of Michelob gold bottle could be the perfect accent inside that thing.

Hillary said...

Maybe you'd feel more at home in a redneck gingerbread trailer: http://flickr.com/photos/hellohillary/323694853 It's good times.

At least you got yours to stand up, which is more than I can say for this one: http://flickr.com/photos/hellohillary/70405178/ The tag reads "Brad's fixer-upper (in a great neighbourhood)"

Yay for annual gingerbread decorating festivities. I should have you over next time, it looks like you'd fit right in!

Anonymous said...

OMG, are those Sprees on the roof?? I LOVE SPREES!! I ate them by the ton in high school. I'm salivating at the thought of the sweet/tartiness of them.

I like your house better.

Anonymous said...

I like the extra icing it adds character to the house. Great job! :)
~G

Spaceman Spiff said...

Things I learned about Karla today.
1. Not eligible for MTV's Gingerbread Cribs holiday special.

2. Eligible for Extreme Gingerbread House makeover Christmas special.

3. Apparently, has a working knowledge of the bodily functions of mean spirited giants.

4. Crabs, herpes, spitting, and tears all given/inspired by Karla.

5. Should not cater a dinner party.

That about covers it. Hope you have a Merry Christmas anyway, with no new diseases in your stocking. . . .er. . . who-ha.

Karl said...

OK, I think you may be right. You're quickly moving into High Crush territory. Frankly, I like your gingerbread house better. It's more realistic. That other one looks like a Martha Stewart ShowModel house or something.

Anonymous said...

Well, I am now convinced that you and I are twins. Albeit you are the prettier and more attractive of the two of us. OY. I couldn't decorate a gingerbread house if you locked me in a kitchen with the whole decorating team from Martha Stewart's magazine. I am THAT inept. *sigh* Let's just do heavy drinking and let those Mommy types decorate for us, shall we?