Christmas Vacation

I'm taking the next week off to chill and try to reconnect with what's important.

I hope y'all get to do the same. Have a great holiday.

I think I forgot how to blog.

I think I also forgot how to do Christmas. I seem to be in denial that the Christmas season is here. I have yet to make a single list, for gifts, cards, or otherwise, and no idea what I'm going to get anybody, or for that matter even what I hope to receive. I don't have any Christmas knitting projects going because I'm still working on that dagnab sweater I started way back in July for my sister's birthday (this is why I don't often do sweaters). Christmas exploded all over my mother's house, with red and/or green and/or twinkly colored lights and/or faux-pine garlands and bows and wreaths and/or nativity sets and/or shiny Santa figurines everywhere you look. But upstairs, our part of the house is such a chaotic mess that the only reason any Christmas decorations are up is because we never got around to taking them down from last year, and they've pretty much faded into the background of our perception by now.

And the thought of Christmas shopping makes me want to crawl into bed and sleep until St. Patrick's Day.

I wouldn't say it's holiday depression or even ennui--it's just not sinking through my thick skull that Christmas is here already. It feels too soon. It feels like summer just ended. It's still relatively warm here, even, at least for the most part. All of this Christmas-ness surrounding me feels surreal and out of place, and it's making ME feel surreal and out of place.

Maybe this is just what happens when you keep your head buried in your own novel for all of November. Maybe I just need to go get a peppermint latte and listen to some Christmas carols and watch Rudolph and drink some 'nog and get acclimated to the fact that 2007 is practically over already. Maybe I need to go home and plug in the Christmas lights that have been hanging unlit all year.

I mean, it's December already, you guys! When did that happen?

How Do I Suck?

Here's how:

Christmas e-Cards I meant to send: 6

I was going to send them Friday afternoon, knowing full well that everybody with any vacation time left would be taking off early and leaving me with plenty of downtime until 5:00. But then at 2:00 a company-wide e-mail announced that they were closing the office RIGHT NOW and asked us to please leave, k'thx. Merry Christmas! Get out! I barely had time to throw an irreverent Christmas video on the blog in between frantically texting Matt to please hurry up and come get me.

Christmas e-cards actually sent: 0

Christmas phone calls I meant to make: 5

Matt's Scrooge company made him work on Christmas day. That sucked in a lot of ways, but I consoled myself with plans to use the time between the family who showed up for Christmas dinner calling it a day and Matt coming home to catch up with people I haven't talked to in forever (fennie and sunny, you guys were top of the list). But then one nephew Ash, age three-and-a-half, decided that he wanted me, and ONLY me, to play with him and his new Thomas the Tank Engine Duplo set. And play "boingy" (a "game" where I lie on my back and bounce him in the air on my ankles until my legs just can't take it anymore). And play "horsey" (self-explanatory, I hope). And play a half-dozen other exhausting games that I felt I couldn't say no to, since I hardly ever see the kid since I went back to work full-time. By the time he and the rest of the company said goodbye, I had to go lie down "for a few minutes," which turned out to be about three hours.

Christmas phone calls I actually made: 0

Hand-knitted Christmas gifts I meant to give: 3

Early November I started a sweater for my husband, a scarf for my S-I-L, and planned to make her an accompanying pair of mittens. At least I finished the scarf.

Hand-knitted Christmas gifts finished and given: 1

Christmas Dinner side dishes I meant to contribute: 1

Mom asked me to make the roasted cauliflower recipe I got from Keckler, and I agreed. Then by the time Matt and I exchanged our gifts, I saw him off to work and got dressed and ready for my day, I headed down to Mom's kitchen only to see that she had already prepped the cauliflower and stuck it in the oven.

Christmas Dinner contributions I made: 0, unless you count introducing the recipe in the first place. And the "recipe" is so simple that I don't really feel too guilty for not handling it fast enough for Mom's liking.

Unhealthy Christmas treats consumed: 50 bazillion jillion.

And now I'm off to the gym.

How do you make Rudolph even more un-PC?

Cross it with Pulp Fiction, that's how:



Merry Christmas, folks!

Not-fun things (and some fun things, too)

Know what's fun? Waking up at 2 AM feeling like somebody's jabbing a hot poker into your eye, that's what's fun. Wait, no... that's actually the opposite of fun. Stupid allergies. And my eye is still swollen. Bleah.

Know what else is not fun? Disillusionment destroying nostalgia, in the form of watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and really paying attention for the first time instead of merely having it on as happy holiday background static and realizing what a sexist bigot is Santa Claus. I always kind of understood that about the reindeer, but I can forgive them, because they're deer. But that is not a Santa I'd want as a role model for my kids. "Jingle jingle jangle, I'm so jolly! Now get your bitch ass in the kitchen, mama, and knit a cozy to cover up that abomination's red nose. Ho ho ho, what a freak. He can't pull my sleigh because he's different." Sheez.

And don't even get me started on Yukon Cornelius, chasing the newly crippled Abominable Snowman over the cliff just because he could. Yeah, you're lucky Bumbles bounce, you insane suicidal bastard.

At least Hermy the elf turned out to be delightfully snarky, so I'll overlook the fact that by the end he's pulling teeth and opening up a practice with no formal dentistry training whatsoever.

Speaking of awesomely un-PC cartoons of yore, Cityrag has a list of links to online videos of the animation industry's selected 50 Greatest Cartoons (via Boing Boing). It's a hard list to argue with, although I would have given The Rabbit of Seville a higher slot.

Red Toenails and Christmas Poo

On the way home last night I made a detour to Ulta, where I not only took care of all of the women on my Christmas list (save S-I-L, who's getting hand-knit goodies), but also scored myself a fancy set of gift-with-purchase hurricane candle holders and a free bottle of O.P.I. nail lacquer. Sweet! Somebody's going to be giving herself some shimmery red toenails this weekend, and that somebody will surely be me.

If the all the recent snow and my first round of Christmas shopping wasn't enough to get me in the holiday spirit, SomaFM's station Xmas in Frisco is doing a pretty good job of giving me that extra push. Because it's just not Christmas until you've heard "Mr. Hankey the Christmas Poo." Obviously.

Unrelatedly, Matt and I have decided to start saving up (both money and vacation days) for a European cruise. I don't know whether we'd rather take a trans-Atlantic cruise and fly back from Europe, or fly there and back for a Mediterranean cruise, either of which would be awesome. But it'll be at least a couple of years before we're able to do it, and who knows what the choices will be by then. At any rate, it's something to shoot for, and I think it'll be a pretty good last hurrah for our coupledom before we start trying for a family and settle in for 20 years or so of domestic road trips all centered around national/theme parks.

Speaking of Matt: do you know what I'd like to write? I'd like to write a children's book that helps familiarize small children with the idea of disabled adults and helps them to react appropriately when confronted with them in public. Or better yet, helps their parents react appropriately. That would be a useful book. If I don't write it, I hope somebody out there does.

I've got some quiz- and YouTube-spam coming up later, but for now I'd better get some work done. Ciao for now.