A Crummy Commercial? Son of a Bitch.

The presents are wrapped; tomorrow's brunch casseroles are prepped; the Christmas Eve spaghetti dinner has been consumed; the dining room table is covered in desserts, and A Christmas Story is rounding out its fourth hour of the glorious 24-hour rotation.

(Extended Time out. We are that family. The marathon-watching-since-the-TNT-days-had-trouble-adjusting-to-the-TBS-switch-but-got-over-it-soon-enough family. I don't care if we have the DVD. Or if we've already watched it twice this lovely holiday season. All of our TVs will be tuned into Ralphie and Ol' Blue until the Old Man screams "Sons of Bitches! Bumpuses!" for the twelfth time. We may currently be taking a break for a quick Family Man screening, but that doesn't weaken the fact that, in a pinch, each of us Bassetts could step in to play narrator in any community theater production with practically zero prep time. Our yearly marathon is a participatory event. We talk along. We don't just know the lines. No, no. We don't just quote. We've got the timing. The cadence. The inflection. We're hardcore. And that's all there is to it. Time in.)

Like the song says, folks: It's the most wonderful time of the year.

And to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year... I decorate. But not until after Thanksgiving. Because that's just the way it's done. Thanksgiving deserves the cornucopias and various gourd centerpieces without holly and reindeer getting in the way. But after the leftover turkey sandwiches are consumed...it's no holds barred.

My name is Mellie and I steal ideas from Sips n Stokes to make my own Christmas decor. And I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Perhaps the best Big Lots deal in the history of all Big Lots deals. $20 for a 6 foot pre-lit tree? Merry Christmas to me.

The tablescape. No, I never actually ate off of the snowman plates, but they provided a lovely ambiance.

One soup can. Thee boxes of candy canes. Five glue sticks. One giant Martha Stewart moment. It's a good thing.

And so as this holiday season comes to a close, I want to wish you all out in Blogosphere Land a very Merry Christmas! Now go turn off your computer and turn on your TV. Ralphie's about to beat up Scut Farkus and it's gonna be epic.

Oh, Jack says Merry Merry, too.

I was soo right...

Ah yes, the Biddy returns to your Google Reader. After much pestering and constant reminders that I've yet to blog anything in over a month from the lovely Sister...I'm back to keep her happy and passive. Because Christmas is coming. And she's been present teasing for months now, and I'm pretty sure if I didn't post in the next few days she'd withhold all gift-giving, and instead present me with a lump of coal and a "you know what you did" scowl come Christmas morning.

To explain my absence: I do my best blogging at work. Now, let's not say that I'm neglecting my job to entertain thousands if not four faithful readers; let's just say that I'm so productive I occasionally have pockets of time that I can devote to social-media-fueled snarkery. The past month has had very few of those pockets. Crazy busy. That's all the excuse you're gonna get from me.

And this morning I return with a air of self-righteous told-you-so-ness fueled by the Biggest Loser finale. I made my predictions and, yep, I win.

Meet Brendan. Now stick him in flannel and a backwards baseball cap. Why, is that Gilmore Girls' Luke Danes? Why, yes, I do believe it is. Winner.

And this is Jessica. Ok, no she's not knocked up like I predicted. Yet. But hot, right? Too pretty for her own good? I do believe so. Winner.


And finally, this little mother-loving dear heart is Adam. Wowza and hubba hubba. I cannot be alone in this opinion. I want to fry egg substitute and turkey bacon off those rock-hard-sizzling abs. Mmmm. Win-ner.

And folks, the time for another changing of the guard here at the ol' blogstead has arrived. As of last Friday I've been working for seven months. Seven. Feels a lot longer. Point being, I'm no longer "newly employed." From henceforth-on-out-forever-and-ever-amen-until-I-change-my-mind, I shall be: Just a Biddy.

In the upcoming weeks I promise the following blog posts:

A Tour Through Mellie's Winter Wonderland

Mad Men: From Ignorance to Obsession. The Untold Love Story of Biddy Mellie and John Hamm.

How to Survive the No Glee til February Slump