I can hardly believe it's been a year since Capricorn and I first celebrated Feliz Navidad, our Christmas decorating/Mexican food fiesta.

Just like last year, we had our first snowfall of the year, coincidentally, on Feliz Navidad. I think that means God was in agreeance. Or that God was crying and it happened to be cold out. Either way.

There are several key ingredients to a good Feliz Navidad:

1) Christmas decorating
2) Mexican food
3) Holiday movies
4) Chihuahuas
5) Immigrants*

* Optional

Well, we all know I've got more chihuahuas around here than I know what to do with, so that's done. For Mexican food this time, we went with tacos. Whoever (Whomever? Ah, who ((whom?)) cares?) came up with the idea to wrap spicy beef in a corn flour shell is a genius.

On to the holiday movies. This is where it gets tricky. We watched Home Alone last year, so that was out, and let's not even talk about the sequels. We also recently watched The Santa Clause 2 (the first one is Capricorn's favorite Christmas movie).

So, based on what was available, we had some old classics, some new favorites, some awful Lifetime-y crap and some holiday movies that should have never been made. Example, according to the Comcast description:

"Santa's Slay": "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He's actually Satan's son, who lost a bet and has had to spend the last thousand years giving gifts and being nixw. But this Christmas, the thousand years is up. Starring WWE star Bill Goldberg."

We passed on this one, even though Amazon users gave it four out of five stars, just a half-star less than "It's a Wonderful Life."

We decided to go with The Family Stone, a vastly underrated Christmas movie. It does have Sarah Jessica Parker in it, but it also has Claire Danes, Rachel McAdams and Diane Keaton, so it's a wash.

As per Feliz Navidad tradition, I put the Spanish subtitles on, but foreign languages are annoying after a minute or two (let's just be honest). I switched it to the commentary with SJP and co-star Dermot Mulroney, who somehow gets leading man status in multiple films despite a first name that makes him sound like Kermit's closet boyfriend.

Now on to the decorating. As I tightly wound the last bit of a string of blue lights around the center of our fake tree, Capricorn asked if I had tested them out first. No, I responded, since they had worked for three years.

Ten minutes later, we were at Wal-mart, buying blue lights that actually worked.

I then had to unwrap and then rewrap the lights, as Capricorn baked Christmas tree sugar cookies. Have you ever thought about how silly it is we put lights on a giant indoor plant to celebrate the birth of Jesus (aside from the fact we decorate trees out of an old pagan tradition)? Wouldn't it make more sense for families to go out and buy a crib each year to decorate? Or breastfeed each oth ... I mean, yeah, Christmas tree decorating it is!

Oh, and just in case you remembered, I busted out my door decoration again this year. If you recall, my mom made this last year, and it won first prize for best holiday door decoration. Here's hoping for two years in a row. I'm like the Yankees of doors, except not as expensive or douchey.

Merry Feliz Navidad to you and your illegal immigrants.

I think it's about time I had my own catchphrase.

Think about it. All the greats have their own.

"Did I do that?" - Urkel
"How rude!" - Stephanie Tanner
"Mission Accomplished" - former President Bush
"It depends on what the definition of 'is' is"- former President Clinton
"*crickets chirping*" - Spencer Pratt's head

Making a catchphrase is difficult business, though. Just like Gretchen trying, in vain, to make "fetch" happen in Mean Girls, you can't just force it. There has to be a natural progression of things. It's an organic process, much like how how Will Smith would yell, "Dammnnnnn" when a fly honey would walk by, as fly honeys are prone to do on Fresh Prince.

For no particular reason, I made up a word for my catchphrase. That way, no one can say they've said it before, and no one can dispute the meaning. Think of Skeeter's "Honk! Honk!" from "Doug." That's just genius. On the surface, Skeeter is saying, "I'm in agreement, or I'm glad to see you." On a deeper level, it's a social commentary on the dangers of nuclear proliferation. True story.

My phrase is "Shebamzee," with a variation of "Shebam-o" when the situation calls for it.

Possible uses:
"Look at that pack of cougars groveling over the Twilight movie. Shebamzee!"
"We were just about to get down and dirty, when, shebamzee! She told me she was a he."
"Shebam-o! Those Jersey Shore cast members are a shebamzee away from reversing the theory of evolution."

I don't know about you, but this could be a landmark event not seen since the Fonz's "Heyyyyyy."
If you have a catchphrase of your own, please tell, and try to use it today in everyday conversation or in a blog post. It's for the children.

Capricorn and I finally did it. Is that:

A) Got engaged, to the delight of our parents who await grandbabies with the most bated of bated breaths.
B) Bludgeoned said babies
C) Watched Twilight

The answer is C.

Basically, we had to see what the mass gnashing of teeth and panties is all about, so we decided to watch the first Twilight. We're fans of True Blood, after all, and Twilight has trendy vampires, so it must be decent. And it's based on a book- book to movie adaptations always go well!

Um...

Here are the positives:
1) Bella's dad is kind of funny and lovable
2) Edward's dad is the dude from "Can't Hardly Wait," so that's 5 bonus points
3) They didn't make Bella super-popular her first day, like some teen movies, as that's totally unrealistic. And even after she got friends, they didn't show her being the center of the group, which, again, is a more likely scenario since she's an outsider coming in.
4) There was some cool music (I appreciated the Radiohead song at the end)
5) Bella doesn't escape a super-strong, super-fast vampire on her own, and instead gets her leg broken. That's plausible. Plus, they developed the Bella/Edward relationship in a more drawn out way, instead of just falling in love right off the bat. Actually, when they first see each other, it looked like Edward was going to vomit. Sure, it was probably from the sunlight, but let's just admit it's because Kristen Stewart is probably a little smelly.

Here are the negatives that I'll pare down in order not to have my house burned to the ground:
1) We understand everybody will broach vampire abilities differently. But there are two basic principles of being a vampire that are kinda necessary: They burn in the sun, and they must be invited into a building. Edward Cullen glows like pixie dust in the sun like the gayest My Little Pony, and these vampires enter any place they want. I'm not cool with that.
2) What was the budget for this movie? Are we in "Blair Witch Project" range*? Some of the camera work must have been done by the crew from "One Night in Paris." And Edward's sun glow was like watching bad 3D effects without the 3D glasses.
3) Edward is a total creeper. Sure, we get it, teen girls. He's got the crazy hair and the enchanting eyes. He also uses those eyes TO STARE AT YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP. He tells Bella he's snuck into her house to watch her sleep, because "it's beautiful." Capricorn: "What is he talking about? People are not sexy when they sleep."
4) The first 45 minutes was about Bella and Edward staring at each other in a contest to see who could brood the undies off each other. Lot of intense staring. Not a lot of action. In "True Blood," half the cast was naked by now.
5) The evil vampire has a pony tail and Spencer Pratt facial hair. I was more scared he was going to turn Bella into a douche than into a cadaver.

* Is that too dated a reference for teens reading this? Um, how about, Are we in "Paranormal Activity" range?"

So, are we out of line? I'd still watch the sequel, as I've heard there's more action in it, plus werewolves. And it doesn't hurt that Alice is on the cover of Maxim this month. But we're not sure what all the hysteria is about. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was better, wasn't it? Twilight is a decent movie, but if that's the kind of thing that makes people fanatical, well, I'm worried. Of course, I got fanatical about Ace of Base, so ...

Thanks to my sister for finding that Twilight Moms poster.

I'm still recovering from an action-packed weekend trip to Chicago. I was attending a journalism conference, but, as I've written before, these weekends tend to be fairly eventful. Here, with photo evidence, is a Weekend Update.

Friday

• On the flight out, United reminded all passengers that in case of a water landing, the inflatable slides out the doors can be used as flotation devices. Because after your plane hits the water at 200 mph, you better find a flotation device and fast. You saw what happened to Jack after the Titanic sank. Rose let that bitch freeze in the water.
  
• United also had in-flight television, including a re-run of "Two and a Half Men," and a show about wildlife ... that included a guy with a rifle shooting deer. And they say the airline industry is out of touch with consumer needs.

• Trying to kill some time, I took a walk to the nearby beach (!?!?). People strolled by, dressed in winter coats, scarves and gloves. Except for the guy you'll notice to the top right of the couple. He was shirtless. In short shorts.
  
• After a few seminars at the hotel, the conference was moved to a nearby restaurant for cocktails and dinner, followed by a speech by an elderly college president. She took the opportunity to talk about the future of college education, reading from her lengthy article on the subject. I turned it into a wine drinking game. By the 18th page, she was brilliant. And sexy.
• I met up with my friend Steve Urkel and his friend, Eddie Winslow.* Steve and I have known each other our whole lives, although not at the point of conception (that I'm aware of). They took me on a little Chicago bar hopping tour.

* Both names changed to protect the innocent. And to get an awesome "Family Matters" reference in while talking about Chicago.
• We ended up taking a train packed full of slutty teens, 20-something alcoholics and 70-something creepers, to Wrigleyville, home of the Chicago Cubs' Wrigley Field, which has been home for disappointment for more than a century. Steve explained to me Chicagoans drink before games, during games and after games, thus making the losing tolerable. Even though it was November, people were drowning their sorrows all over the place. They are really dedicated fans!

• Random encounter of the night: One of the guys in the Sonic commercials (he's the guy on the left in the car). Random encounter on Sunday at O'Hare: I am sure I saw the UPS commercial guy who draws the eerily straight lines on the whiteboard.
• I saw more stretch limos in one night than I had seen in the past five years. And they were outside of dive bars. You stay classy, Chicago drunks.
  
• We got back around 2 a.m., riding on a train now chock full of regrets and Planned Parenthood customers. When I was about to part ways with Steve for the walk back to my hotel, he was kind enough to remind me Chicago is one of the tops in the country for murder. "If someone approaches you, shiv them," he advised. Unfortunately, I left my shiv in my room, along with my vampire stake and my crossbow.
  

Saturday

• There's something about being out of town that lets you get up early even after being up way past your bedtime. I need to trick my body into thinking my apartment is in Jamaica. On a side note, I need to trick my body into looking like Gerard Butler's in "300."
• After a full day of seminars (see, I did actually learn something ... for example, tuition is never going to stop rising and we're all screwed), it was time for another night on the town. This time, I took a cab with a bunch of reporters to Wicker Park, across town. We eventually found a trendy-looking Mexican restaurant, trendy because the word "Bell" wasn't in the name, and you couldn't order a personal pan pizza along with your taco.
• Half the group split off, and the hardcore people eventually went back to a bar that had a combination of waitresses struggling to make ends meet (otherwise, they would have been able to afford the rest of their shirts), Ultimate Fighting (Subtitled: Homoerotica for Dudes Who Experimented Once and Liked It A Little), and, by 11:30, karaoke.
• One of the reporters started off the night with "Slave 4 U." Another reporter and I busted out Spin Doctors' "Two Princes," in what critics called the finest song selection of a random 90s song at a Chicago karaoke bar this side of "Wonderwall."
• At one point, a very, very large man with a voice similar to what I imagine Snuffleupagus would sound like after an all-night bender in Mexico, asked my "Two Princes" partner and I to sing "I Want It That Way" with him. (Can't recall "I Want It That Way"? Try this.)
  
• Being that we didn't want to get eaten, we agreed. By the end of the song, two things were certain: 1) Once journalism fails me, I will go on to become a 90s-only karaoke DJ, and 2) Everybody is a closet boy band lover. That everybody included the DJ, who, at one point, sang a song of his own. That song was LFO "Summer Girls." I don't think he looked at the lyrics once.
  

Sunday

• The conference wrapped up by noon, so a group of us decided it would be smart to walk from the hotel to Millenium Park, a mere 4,536 mile 30-minute walk. It turned out to be well worth it. We got to see the shiny bean thing, which is basically one giant metallic funhouse mirror. Who knows how many countless marriage proposals, first dates and late-night cocaine binges have been done there?
  
• Next, some of us stopped at a giant indoor mall, where I found a man made of Legos. Is that a building block in his pocket or is he just happy to see me?
• Finally, I got the shuttle bus to O'Hare, and got on my flight home, losing an hour in the process due to Eastern Standard Time. That's exactly when you realize how ridiculously arbitrary time zones are. At exactly this moment, you are one hour further ahead in life, they say ... Well, readers, then I declare after reading this blog post, it's actually Christmas Day 2093. Merry Christmas. You're dead.
  

We're down to Laura and Nicole in Cycle 13 of "America's Next Top Model," the first cycle for girls under 5'8. Nicole, at 5'7, and Laura, at 5'6, will now have to do the traditional Cover Girl commercial/photo, the Seventeen magazine shoot and the runway show to determine who will be America's. Next. Top. Model. Here's the TV Play by Play (here's last week's)......

The nickname reminder (explanation in the season premiere recap) Laura (The Widower) and Nicole (Black Sheep)
Eliminated: Understudy (Lisa), Headlights (Rachel) and Spirit Fingers (Courtney) The L Word (LuLu) Pouty McPouterson (Bianca) and Lady Luck (Ashley), Lelly (Kara), Mommy (Rae) NC-17 (Brittany) Hot Fudge Sundae (Sundai) Miss Congeniality (Jennifer), Mena (Erin)

-------------------

:01 I almost forgot about the time at the baby photo when Jay Manuel asked if Black Sheep, "Are you awake?" Your "Top Model" finalist, everyone!

:02 Cows everywhere hope The Widower win tonight so they can stop shaking in fear she'll be back. That is, unless she somehow finds a way to combine her old life of cow castration with her new life of modeling. I smell a photo shoot theme.

:05 Jay Manuel looks like an Oompa Loompa today with his green coat and always slightly-orange skin. But he still looks good. Darn you Jay Manuel.

:08 I think Black Sheep's hair must weigh as much as her body. During her Cover Girl photo shoot with Nigel Barker, she looks as natural as possible and is already off to a good start.

:09 Widower, who is dyslexic, is stressed about her Cover Girl commercial. No worries, Widower. It's only a $100,000 contract and the chance of a lifetime! At least she has a legitimate excuse for messing up her lines. Most cycles, girls mess up just because they aren't any good. What's more, Widower didn't let it get to her, and eventually got it within about 10 takes. Compare that to Erin/Mena, who earlier this cycle was whimpering on her last take.

:11 When most models want a mental image to make them smile during a photo shoot with Nigel, they think of Jesus or their boyfriend. Widower is thinking of milkshakes and kittens. If she's not the all-time coolest Top Model contestant by now...

:12 Black Sheep's commercial isn't going well. Jay said she sounds like a rich snob. Maybe Cover Girl is catering to a new clientele these days. Goodbye Wal-mart, hello Nordstrom! ... There's such a juxtaposition between the Southern drawl of Widower and the private school enunciation of Black Sheep, it's almost as if the producers wanted to pit these two against each other on purpose... but hey, they'd never fix it like that. Um, right?

:15 Time for the Seventeen magazine cover shoot, with Ann Shoket leering around, hoping to get on camera a lot to prove she's still editor of the magazine and not just a woman who keeps popping up on "Top Model."

:18 The girls have a sit-down one-on-one interview Tyra, who asks hard-hitting questions like, "How tall are you?" and "So, you're a finalist?" Black Sheep says she used to sit in a bathroom stall during lunch as a student. Those days are over, Black Sheep. Now you can sit in a bathroom stall during lunch as a Top Model!

:20 Widower's grandmother wrote her a letter, saying how proud she is of Widower for making it this far. What grandma isn't saying, Widower, is that she's going to be jacked if you win the competition, because you won't need grandma to make clothes for you anymore. Another unemployed grandma, out on the streets. It really is a tough economy.

:22 It's time to prepare for the final runway performance; isn't it strange the show has the girls do runway in the finale, even though they barely do it at all during the season (this is one area that Bravo's "Make Me A Supermodel" is superior). That would be like "American Idol" asking its finalists to rap. On second thought, let's make that happen.

:23 Erin/Mena, Jennifer/Miss Congeniality, Sundai/Hot Fudge Sundae and Brittany/NC-17 are back to walk with the girls. They do their best to not act jealous.

:24 The girls (also including Cycle 12 winner Teyona) are going to model Julia Clancey designs, which evidently are a mix of Victorian-era, disco balls and pixie dust ... Everyone says they want Widower to win. So if you win, Black Sheep, I'd exit stage left asap.

:27 It's a shame Widower doesn't smile more.

:28 Runway time. The theme is "the elements." Black Sheep's first runway walk is a little scary. She looks like she wants to murder the audience. Maybe "the element" is volcanic explosion?

:30 If The CW is ever hard up for cash, they could probably make a killing selling uncensored "Backstage at 'Top Model' Runway Shows" DVDs. The blurred nipples are everywhere. Meanwhile, Widower looks great on her first walk, despite having never been in a runway show like this before.

:33 Black Sheep does much better on her second walk, with a theme of "Wind." And the last walk is "Water." This is starting to feel like a "Captain Planet" runway show. "This is one of the funnest things I've done," Widower says. Well put, Widower.

:38 It's time for the winner to be revealed. After going through all the girls' photos and work so far, the judges think Black Sheep is very couture, and Widower is very photogenic and personable. And the winner is...

:40 Black Sheep! She can hardly believe "a dork" like her is "America's Next Top Model." Dorks everywhere, rejoice. Too bad for Widower (and for her cows), but you have to think she'll get a modeling job in no time.

---------------------------------

Photos are from The CW.

By Friday morning, I will be in a city known for wind, historic losing, Oprah and a musical starring Catherine Zeta Jones' legs.

That's right, it's Chicago.

It's the third time I'll be attending an expenses-paid reporters' conference (who knows why they keep accepting me).

The last time, I went to the A-T-L, but was unable to track down Kim, NeNe or Ludacris. I did, however, have this happen to me:

"Since I didn't want to end up anyone's bitch, handcuffed to a bed with my wallet stolen and a sock in my mouth, I smiled politely and tried to back off. She then leaned over and asked me,
'Do you like bad girls?'"

That trip was also right after the first time Capricorn and I told each other "I love you." We have since told each other that about 10,000 times, and have managed to never say "P.S. I Love You" Hilary Swank style because that would be obnoxious and annoying.

For the first conference, I went to St. Louis, and happened to stay at a hotel across the street from a rally for then-presidential hopeful Barack Obama. I also got to go up in the St. Louis Arch, which I imagine is more or less a claustrophobic's worst nightmare. And how could I forget this random encounter on the street:

Old dude: "Do you know where Blah Blah bar is?"
Me: "Yeah, actually, we just came from there, it's down the street."
Old dude: (To Michigan girl): "You have a nice smile." (pauses... stares awkwardly)
Mich. girl: "Uh...."
(Enter homeless dude)
HD: "Hey y'all... It's my birthday today."
Me: "Well, happy birthday"

Who knows what will happen this time. Any guesses? Knife fight? Chess match with a Chicago Cub? Oprah decides not to leave Chicago just because of my presence?

I was quick to write Thanksgiving a letter last week to apologize for Christmas stealing the proverbial holiday thunder.

At the same time, I should confess I've been singing Christmas music for a week now. Before you throw flaming crosses and ninja stars at me, let me explain.

No, it's not because the motherf&*@$# GAP decided it's the holiday shopping season.* It's because I'm singing in a trio now, and we're got a holiday program coming up. Unlike the Bayside Choir, we can't simply just ask Tori Spelling to guest star and hide a malfunctioning boom box beneath the risers. We've got to practice.

For my solos so far, I'll be doing "I'll Be Home for Christmas," "The Christmas Song," and possibly "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" or "Christmas Time Is Here." I've also got a bunch of duets to practice, from "White Christmas" to "Silent Night."

And I'm also doing the David Bowie part in the Bing Crosby duet, "Peace on Earth"; my partner doesn't agree with me she should smoke a pipe and say things like "Yes, that's swell," or "Get back here boy before I beat you with my belt." I guess she's not as committed as I am... I was planning to dress like Ziggy Stardust.

Not considered, because it's the devil's music: "Christmas Shoes."

So I've been listening to Christmas music in my car as preparation. And that brings me to the new poll. What Christmas song played a month or more in advance would make you feel like murdering someone?

For instance, if someone played "Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer" in a grocery store right now, I'd amputate my arm and beat a baby senseless with it. But if I heard "Carol of the Bells" from the Home Alone soundtrack, I'd be in the holiday spirit and may even donate to the Salvation Army.**

So take a minute and vote in the poll on the right side. And a Merry November to you and yours.

* Capricorn loves this non-holiday GAP commercial with Juliette Lewis. I prefer the "Fall Into the Gap" years.


** Dear Salvation Army: When you put an ATM swipe machine on top of your kettle, you will get a donation from me. Until then, stop making me feel guilty for your lack of technology, just because I don't carry cash. I haven't carried cash in five years. I am considering putting a competing, ATM-ready kettle beside yours, with a sign saying "Donations Go to Support Child Molesters In Need." And I'd still blow you out of the water.

Last week, Sundai drowned under the pressure of an underwater shoot, and she was sent home. With just four girls remaining in Cycle 13, it's only going to get more intense as we head into "Hawaiian Hip Hop," which sounds like something out of So You Think You Can Dance.

Here's the nickname reminder (explanation in the season premiere recap): Black Sheep (Nicole), Miss Congeniality (Jennifer), Mena (Erin), The Widower (Laura)

Eliminated: Understudy (Lisa), Headlights (Rachel) and Spirit Fingers (Courtney) The L Word (LuLu) Pouty McPouterson (Bianca) and Lady Luck (Ashley), Lelly (Kara), Mommy (Rae) NC-17 (Brittany) Hot Fudge Sundae (Sundai)

------------------------------------

:04 Mena Suvari has been in the bottom two for three weeks in a row now, and escaped every time. Is that a Top Model record?

:06 The Widower is surprised she's still in the competition, considering not luck ago she was castrating bulls. I'm surprised she still has sunburnt cheeks. Hasn't she figured out the whole sunscreen thing yet?

:07 Hip hop hula dancers ... well, now I've seen it all. Instructor Anna-Ritta Sloss says it's a new interpretation of hula. Then you see the Top Model girls try to do it, and you see a new interpretation of the new interpretation: hip hop hula train wreck.

:17 You know Top Model is struggling to find controversary when, during a practice for the hula challenge, all they can come up with is Black Sheep saying Mena "is getting kind of annoying." Take that, Mena! Oooh, burn! So Miss J, runway diva extraordinaire, says the winner of the challenge gets a trip to Hawaii with a friend. Just for doing hip hop hula? Shoot, where's my grass skirt?

:19 I love Miss J. On Mena's sad-to-happy hula interpretative dance: "It was like, child, please, you were angry." Meanwhile, Widower, out of nowhere, shows she can shake her booty on the hip hop portion. Miss Congeniality thinks Widower "probably gets freaky at the club." I'd think so, too, if I thought Widower had ever, ever been to a club that didn't have line dancing.

:24 Photoshoot time. The big surprise: Two girls are getting eliminated, a major change from Top Model history (usually, it goes down to Top 3, with two girls going home in the final after they all shoot the Cover Girl commercial). The theme is emulating Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of volcanoes. Top Model doesn't take the extreme step of having the girls shoot in a volcano, though. Hey, if Frodo and Sam can do it...

:30 Miss Congeniality is having a tough time modeling with her face and her body at the same time. On top of that, she has a tough time standing on the rocks without falling. Other than that, she's doing great.

:32 Black Sheep is going to win this photo shoot. You can tell by her amazing hair alone. Well, that, and Black Sheep almost always wins the photo shoots.

:33 They make Widower look like Rachel Hunter (Ed. note: I thought that before the judges point it out later). Widower tries doing the off-balance ninja wearing a dress pose. Sexy! I almost forget what Widower sounds like when I see her all done up... and then she talks and you remember she puts the bumpkin in country bumpkin.

:34 According to the photographer, evidently the goddess of volcanoes should be flirty and sexy. Have you ever met a sexy lava flow? Mena turns around her shoot by singing a pop song in her head. Any guesses what the song is? My guess is "I'm a Little Teapot."

:42 Judging time. Guest judge: Ann Shoket, who must never actually be in the office at Seventeen Magazine. The judges think Mena's photo is sexy and Miss Congeniality looks stiff. Tyra wants to help Widower look better in another grandma-made outfit, telling her to adjust the shirt. Can someone tell Tyra, then, that her parachute suit looks ready for takeoff?

:47 The judges love Widower's photo, even if she looks short (and her face looks like she wants to possess your soul). Black Sheep has a great face, but OK pose. This is the Top 4, right? And no one nailed it?

:55 Black Sheep, of course, gets best photo. And the other finalist is ... Widower! That means Miss Congeniality misses being Top Model's first Asian girl in the finals, and Mena misses adding to her record-setting escape of the bottom two. Next week, it's the grand finale, with the Cover Girl commercial and the runway show.

In the past when I've written about trip to the vet, it's been about my chiweenie, Bailey.

There was the time he wouldn't stop licking his paws, as if he was a college co-ed and his paws were tequila.

And there was the time when he had a mysterious back ailment that caused him to hide underneath my bed and shriek like Republicans at the mention of gay marriage.

But this time, the sick puppy is Leo. Leo is Capricorn's chihuahua, about 5 years old. He and Bailey have become best friends and possibly gay lovers, if all the butt sniffing and come hither glances are any indication.

Last week, Leo starting scratching his ear, leading Capricorn to believe he had ear mites. She tried some over the counter medication, which only made the problem worse. So there was no avoiding it. Leo had to go to the vet.

Since I had time this morning, I took him to the appointment. If I look dainty carrying in my 11-pound chiweenie, just think how I look carrying in a 5-pound chihuahua. I might as well start butt sniffing.

The veterinary center had been remodeled since I had last gone (which I surely would pay for in some manner when the bill came). On a giant flat screen TV behind the receptionist, Cesar Milan, even on mute, reminded me I'm not being a good pack leader and should lower my head in shame. You say Dog Whisperer, I say Human Humiliator.

Soon, Leo and I went into a room, where he got the ol' rectal thermometer (unlike Bailey, his eyes didn't pop out like a Troll doll). He got weighed: 4.8 pounds, smaller than most cats. All that yo-yo dieting is really getting to you, Leo.

As a vet about my age and ostensibly much better paid than I checked out Leo's ear, she said he likely had a yeast infection. How embarrassing, Leo. Now they're gonna have to give you Monistat. Oh, not that type of yeast infection? Should I put him in the oven to rise?

As it turns out, he just needs some medicated drops and antibiotics, which I could have told them without the $20 test but hey, what do I know, I got shamed by a reality television dog whisperer.

The vet and her assistant left the room. That gave me time to look at all the literature around the room, reminding me of how many tests/preventive medications I wasn't nice enough to give to my dogs. God help a paranoid pet owner. The sole purpose of all that stuff is to make sure you think your dog will become rabid at any moment and eat your flesh off unless you get him vaccinated. And once you're done with that, you better get heartworm prevention or you'll get an $800 bill for heartworm treatment, plus get shamed again. Curiously, none of the signs mentioned anything about erectile dysfunction, which I'm sure must affect millions of dogs everywhere. Except Bailey. And he's fixed.

I was also curious about the magazine selection. What are they trying to say about Gwen Stefani? And is the idea here no guys ever take their pets to the vet? Shouldn't there be a Playboy? At least we could stare at Bunnies.*

* Hey-yoooo!

After Leo tried fiercely not to get drops in his ear, what with having been ear raped minutes earlier as they cleaned everything out, we were all done.

The bill came to about $150. Having a pet is like having a kid. It's not like you can say, "You know what... I think I'll just let the little guy suffer. I'd rather not have to spend $150. There's a sale at Banana Republic" Then you're a monster, and ripe for an appearance on Maury Povich. (Show title: Shocking Pet Owners Refuse To Pay Vet; Neighbors, Family and baby Jesus appalled)

Leo's ear seems to be doing better. That's good. Because otherwise I was just going to Van Gogh that sucker.

Dear Thanksgiving:

On behalf of jag-offs everywhere, I apologize. I haven't seen this much thunder stolen since Urkel joined "Family Matters" and Carl Winslow became an afterthought.

Once Halloween is over, it's no secret marketers and businesses want to remind us it's the holidays. Commercials tell us to shop now for Christmas before it's too late. In reality, it's too late on Dec. 26. It's not too late Dec. 24.

But the commercials aren't a big deal, and to be expected. I can even look past Jim Carrey's "Christmas Carol" movie coming out last weekend, hoping without cause it could be better than Muppet Christmas Carol.

What's not to be expected is for people to jump the gun and start decorating for Christmas now, before anyone has carved a turkey, watched Al Roker flag down parade floats or watched the Detroit Lions in their annual Thanksgiving Day loss.

On Friday, I was driving down an autumn foliage covered road. Fall was in the air (and likely H1N1, but that doesn't have pretty leaves).

And then what to my wondering eyes did appear, but an inflatable Santa Claus, lights and general Christmas regalia spread all over the side of a house and lawn, inviting me to have a Merry Christmas.

Full holiday decorations. Nov. 5.

And then yesterday, Thanksgiving, you remember what happened? I drove through a town that had jack-o-lanterns decaying gracefully on doorsteps, hoping to scare off children one last time with the threat of a bacterial infection. I saw brown banners on light posts adorned with leaves. I had football on the radio, and leaves falling from the trees. It was fall in all its splendor.

Except for the garland and Christmas bells hanging throughout the town.

So, Thanksgiving, it seems once again you are the redheaded stepchild of holidays. You are a mere formality to Black Friday, a roadbump to Christmas morn.

Sorry about your loss. Maybe next year, try adding gift-giving to your holiday's list of traditions, right after the turkey feast. Steal the thunder right back from Jesus. He already gets two holidays a year, anyway.

Sincerely,
Wild ARS Chase