The Cullen Claus

'twas twilight before Christmas, and all through my house
Cullen creatures were stirring, including my spouse.
The strong traps were set by the chimney with care,
Oh, those sweet smelling rodents did not have a prayer.

We were sipping our cocktails of varying reds,
Watching fat tasty children outside on their sleds.
With Alice a'wrapping, and me on Edwards lap,
Poor Emmet was listening to Rosalie yap.

When from inside the kitchen, there arose such a clatter,
Esme dropped her mixing bowl full of blood-cookie batter!
I jumped from my seat when I heard the loud crash,
And we saw Santa running 'cross the yard in a flash!

We all heard him yelling, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
And we saw Jasper chasing, with his eyes all aglow.
Then what to our hungry dark eyes do appear,
But eight savory prey in the form of reindeer!

With such a young vampire, so weak and so quick,
I was sure this would be the end of St. Nick!
He was sure to catch him, he had laid his claim,
To lose good old Santa would be such a shame!

Help Alice! Help Esme! Help Carlisle, I called!
Help Emmet! Help Roaslie! Help Edward, I bawled!
We must catch him quickly, we don't have much time!
Then up to the chimney I saw Santa climb.

Suddenly in a twinkling, he fell though the roof!
I had never met Santa, but now I had proof!
He hit the ground running, with a heart that did pound,
And suddenly vampires were circling around!

He was pale and shaking from his head to his foot,
When I suddenly yelled out, YOU BETTER STAY PUT!
Jasper was still hunting his Christmas Eve snack,
When the house filled with howls from an angry wolf pack!

Poor Santa just stood there, his fortune quite scary,
I was so sure this Christmas would soon lose it's Merry!
His poor little mouth was turned into a frown,
And werewolves were hoping for a Holiday showdown!

The dogs kept their distance, we thought them quite smelly,
And the jolly old round guy tried to suck in his belly!
He thought looking trimmer could ward off the teeth,
Then the Cullens trapped Jasper, in the shape of a wreath!

Santa was chubby, and smelled so good, he did!
I was thankful his reindeer had ran off and hid.
This could not be happening, it must be all in my head,
Then I heard Jasper whisper, you have nothing to dread.

I'll try to control it, this weird little quirk,
Even I know that Santa has important work!
And then with two fingers he held his nose closed,
Edward scooped up St. Nick, and he instantly froze!

Outside he took him, and put him into his sleigh,
He said, this Christmas you're lucky, now hurry away!
We watched as the wolves ran off into the night,
And we heard Santa chuckle as he flew out of sight,

Merry Christmas to all! Now it's MY turn to bite!

Where mah ZETA's at??!

I have a new best friend.

And, because I know my (publicly pledged stalkers and anonymous pawns) perusers are undeniably sanguine, I didn't bring you any lotion-filled Kleenex. I know your feelings won't be hurt.

I'm a big believer in friend sharing, and I know you'll approve of this one.

Perusers, meet (Anna Faris) "Shelley" from "House Bunny." She's going to be our new (house) blog mother.

Shelley: "My name is Shelley and I am here to be your house (blog) mother."

Michelle: "This is Ben."
Shelley: [in a deep voice] "Ben."
Michelle: "And then Christa, and Renee."
Shelley: [in a deep voice] "Chris-ta, Rhe-nae"
Jeremy: "What is that?"
Shelley: "It's just this thing I do to remember peoples names."
Michelle: "Shelley, that's Jeremy."
Shelley: nods head [in a deep voice] "Jer-e-my."

Karyn: "You are the exorcist, that's great!"

Michelle: "This is Emily, and she's Amanda."
Shelley: [in a deep voice] "Em-a-lee, Ah-man-dah"

(She already knows Tony and Russ, no need for an introduction.)

Michelle: "Guys, Shelley is awesome. She's fun, affectionate, and kind (Shelley defines kind as love with its work boots on)."

Shelley: "We're going to have some amazing parties, learn all kinds of "'things and stuff,'" and do yoga on the lawn every morning!"

Michelle: "We only have one problem: We need 30 new pledges (followers in blogspeak) by December 25th or they (I have no idea who the hell "they" are) are going to take away our house! We can't let that happen. [pouting] I kind of like our screen door."

Shelley suggested we attract some attention with a car wash.



Who's in!??

Maybe it IS Rocket Science...

Unfortunately, I don't give refunds. See, these little tidbits of literary candy are free, so upon your (stunning) possible dissatisfaction, my only option is to try just that much harder to please you. Your apparent call for a "do-over" has been justly noted.

Here's my feeble attempt at a rebound.

I'm really not a man hater, and no, I don't think "you" includes the entire male population on planet earth, or elsewhere. I simply shove my opinion down your eager little throats as requested. Aren't I kind?

Conversely, I find your company quite pleasing, so much so in fact, that I have a robust tendency to prefer your company over the company of most women (yes, I said most, and no, ladies, I won't respond to catty -- hiss hiss -- comments). Capiche?

My respect for you grows as your expectation continues to rise, and with that being said, I'm flipping the coin. As a friend of mine would say, "this one's for the ladies."

Guys, I'm profoundly aware of the recondite annoyance of women. I've been overheard on more than one occasion stating the obvious -- "I'm glad I'm female, because had I entered this life as a man, women would drive me crazy."

Most of us have no idea what we want, and we expect you to not only know, but to also provide us with such to our in⋅du⋅bi⋅ta⋅ble satisfaction.

Yes, that's crazy, and no, I don't blame you for the collective eye-rolls and side-stepping of our oh-so-barmy company.

I'm actually quite happy that Edward, and his leviathan affect on the multi-generational female psyche, finally exists.

Why, you ask? Well, it's quite simple. You may be thinking I'm going to say it's because you finally have a realistic idea of what women really want (nix the pseudo-vampire persona). Well, here's where my coin flip applies.

I'm fractionally giggly, because while women are swooning like tabbies in heat, they still have no idea why. I find that peculiar. I'm sure you do too.

Here's the gist. You really do have a point.

Ladies, put your claws back in. Edward is awkward, skinny (skinny = sexy in my assessment, but disregard that groundless comment), and pale. He is a *tad* overwhelming, and if he were your common boy next door, you'd likely think him a weirdo.

In real, bona fide, card-carrying life, you'd completely ignore him -- even if he tried to give you money (and don't hit me with the "'it all depends how much'" line, because I'm not buyin' it, and if you do, you're not only idiosyncratic, but also a hooker). Where do all of you think this leaves the real guys? Your harebrained sanctions for "normal" behavior are of your own construction, and well, my heartfelt congratulations to you, because you've outdone the guys.

I won't put my "Michelle's Top Ten Reasons (insert female persona here) is Better Than All the Other Erratic Women Out There" into action until (and if) I get a *qualified nominee.

Until then, I'll summarize just for the sake of clarity. You women are swooning because you are confused (shocking, I know). You've packed up all your neat little garments made of 100% pure expectation and you're planning to move to vampire-island, where bountiful disappointment awaits (alongside your orders of pretty, yummy drinks), because your blood-sucking love interest is sure to be sleeping in the dog house within seventy-two hours of your arrival.

It's true, shut up.

He'll come to sweep you up into the magical trees, and your warm, little, welcoming self will kindly provide him with a gratudial verbal tirade (that would chase him right back to Italy, into the welcoming arms of the Volturi), because either A) You don't like to be treated that way, or B) He didn't anticipate the fact that you were in the "mood" for a quiet, sullen evening with a salad and a spritzer.

I know! The absolute nerve of some people.



*Qualified in this case consists of a female character, bound by the same tantamount (look it up) standards as "our" dreamy, muddle-haired Edward.

Bring "her" on, I'm all over this one.

There Really ARE Rules.

I need to clarify a few minor details.

I've gotten a few questions about Edward, and why his spice is so much spicier than yours. So, I've got a few answers for you, just to be clear.

1. Climbing through our windows.
Okay, no, we don't want you really invading our privacy that way (unless of course, you really are Edward Cullen). Yes, you are right in thinking that sort of rude behavior early on would likely result in a restraining order, and your new public nickname sounding like "stalker."


What I really mean by that is, be confident. Please follow "dealing with women, rule #1."

Rule #1, defined:

Don't sit and wonder what we want, expect, wish, dream, obsess over, or crave you to be.

Edward: I want to go watch her sleep. Bam! He's in her room, watching because he wants to be.

You: I wonder if she would get mad if she caught me in her room watching her. Would she think it was romantic? Or, would she think I was crazy? Umm...(figiting)...I don't want to give her the wrong impression, but I'd really like to try that. What if she thinks I'm weird? What if....

Ugh. Really? What if you just stop being a sissy la-la and show her your manly vampireness. Yes, I just said vampireness, shut up.

Be yourself. Be confident in who you really are. If we don't like it, find someone who does. She's out there, believe me.


2. What the hell does being a little "nuts" consist of?
Well, let me tell you. We don't mean we're looking for a psychiatrist match-maker. We aren't interested in getting ourselves hurt, physically or emotionally. If you're unsure if you're afraid of heights, you may want to find that out before you take us bungee jumping.


What I really mean by that is, please follow "dealing with women, rule #2."

Rule #2, defined:

Don't sit and wonder what we want, expect, wish, dream, obsess over, or crave you to be.

Edward: I have no problem taking this chick up a hundred foot tree, and calling her a spider-monkey (because that's who he is). Up he (we) go(es).

You: I wan'er find'n me mysterious and dangerous. Chicks dig that kinda thing. I'ma tak'er skydivin'. You then find yourself unable to jump from the plane, sitting in your own urine, wondering how you're going to explain this one when you finally land. Oh, and she did jump. Good luck with that, pal.

Be yourself. If we don't like it, find someone who does. She's out there, believe me.

Let's put it this way. It's all about inviting her into your world. Better to find out if she fits there than finding out later you're miserable being the "I-failed-at-trying-to-be-what-she-wanted-because-I-didn't-realize-it-really-wasn't-what-she-wanted" version of you. You didn't see Edward going around pretending he wasn't a vampire did you? No. He just tried to not kill her. Rock what you've got.

If you fear it, we smell it, and so does Edward.

Just sayin'.

It's Not Rocket Science...

Michelle's "Top Ten Reasons Why Edward Cullen is Better Than a Human Guy (other than his obvious dazzle-inducing intensity and hypnotizing brilliance)."



10. Yes, women tend to like the "bad guy" type, but only to a certain point. Edward is smart enough not to be a jackass. He's not abusive or cruel, he just isn't a wuss either. He doesn't run around looking for a fight, but he can still kick your ass.



9. He's a little nuts. Admit it ladies, we're suckers for a guy who is a little more interesting than dinner and a movie. I'd love to climb (fly up) hundred foot trees on a Friday night, and being called "spider monkey" really does has an affectionate ring to it.



8. He can drive. I mean, really drive. I'm not much of a fancy car type (a car can't pull a horse trailer), but that little silver Volvo does it for me. Any guy (vampire) that can spin a 360 like that is more than okay in my book.



7. He knows how to feed a girl. I'm just sayin'. A good mushroom ravioli gets me every time. The little fact that he ignored the waitress with the cleavage spilling out of her shirt doesn't lose him any points either. If I point them out, fair game. Otherwise, I'm over here, pal.



6. The emotional eyes. I don't know many guys with such expressive sincerity. Feel it guys, we don't like dead eyes (no pun intended). We'll let the little fact that yours don't change color slide. Okay, I lied. We won't.



5. The whole "biting" thing. Seriously, what other long-term flirting strategy can you come up with that beats that? Yep. That's what I thought.



4. Personality. 'nuf said.



3. Vampire baseball. Sorry, guys. I don't see any of you cracking thunder-inducing bats. And to top it off, could he have picked a better sport? I think not!



2. He's hella confident. He doesn't sit around wondering whether or not he should float through your window at night. He just comes in, stands there quietly, and watches you sleep. Permission has it's place, but have the guts to handle your business. We don't want to always be one step ahead of you.



And, drum roll please...

The #1 reason why Edward Cullen is Better Than a Human Guy:

Can you say lullaby?

1. He's a vampire musician. Yes, how utterly romantic that he is capable of writing his own music -- for you. It has nothing to do with being the "rock star" type. We don't like groupies; I mean, who really wants a man who pockets all the change in town (if you catch my drift)? Music is the language of the heart, and I think I've lost mine.



Sigh...